Macdonald Hall #3: Beware the Fish!

Take cover!

The next evening, in a corner of the squad room of the Chutney police station, Featherstone and Hamilton pored over a large map of Chutney and the surrounding district. They had been up all night comparing notes on their observations and experiences, and had been working most of the day on the map.

"Now," said Hamilton, "we've got a black X in every area where there've been complaints of fish broadcasts. Let's see if we can find out where they're coming from."

Both men studied the map intently for a moment.

"The area is round," commented Featherstone, to break the monotony.

"So it is," agreed Hamilton.

"As a matter of fact," added Featherstone, "it's almost a perfect circle. So—"

"So the broadcasts have to be coming from the centre of the circle," finished Hamilton. He laid a long, bony finger on the map. "That would be right here."

Featherstone beckoned to the desk sergeant and pointed to the centre of the circle. "What's located there?"

The man scratched his head. "Schools," he replied finally. "Yeah, two boarding schools, right across the road from each other."

"Schools," mused Hamilton. "That's impossible. Just children."

"Yes, definitely two schools," confirmed the sergeant. "One's a girls' finishing school called Scrimmage's, and the other's a boys' school. It's called Macdonald Hall."

"That's M.H.!" cried Featherstone. "M.H. Flying Fish was written on that bomb! This is what we've been looking for! Macdonald Hall!"

"But a bunch of kids?" protested Hamilton.

"Kids have teachers," Featherstone insisted in growing excitement, "and teachers are adults. One of those adults is the Fish!"

"The perfect cover," agreed Hamilton slowly. "No one would think to investigate for terrorist activity in a school. This Fish is a clever one."

"We don't know who we're after, so we'll have to restrict the whole place," decided Featherstone. "We'll need barriers and men. Sergeant, can you help us?"

"Well," offered the desk sergeant, "we've only got eight men on the Chutney force, but you can get any support you need from the county police."

"Good," said Featherstone. "Tonight we bring in the Fish!"

* * *

"What happened?" bawled Elmer Drimsdale, home from his field trip. "Where are all my things?" The room looked empty without all the equipment. The only things left were the plants and the ant colony. "What have you done?'

"We buried them," explained Bruno.

"You what?'

"Listen, Elmer, you're lucky we don't bury you too!" snapped Boots. "It's all your fault, you and your video machine!"

Elmer just stood there, stunned.

"You told us it would only broadcast to the screen on your black box!" accused Bruno. "That thing has been telecasting my fish jokes and your idiot salmon all over the county!"

"Remarkable!" breathed Elmer.

"Yeah, The Fish thought so too," said Bruno bitterly. "He was pretty sure it was us, but he couldn't prove it. So he called a big dorm inspection. We had to get rid of your stuff or the three of us would have been expelled!"

Elmer looked as if he were about to faint. "Expelled! I was almost expelled and I didn't even know it!" he exclaimed weakly. "You did the right thing! I hope you buried it deep enough!"