The Mystery of Babe Ruth Baseball (4 page)

BOOK: The Mystery of Babe Ruth Baseball
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A tall woman with red hair just like Cam's came out of the Goldwin apartment. Two children were with her. One of the children, a small boy with curly blond hair, picked up the flier. As they walked to the elevator, the woman smiled at Cam.
Cam waited until they were in the elevator. Then she walked from one apartment door to the next. Two of them, the Goldwins' and the Grants‘, did not have fliers.
His name is Grant, Cam said to herself. He must have taken the flier when he went inside.
Cam was just about to knock on the door when she heard some people get off the elevator. It was Cam's parents and Eric, with a policeman and a policewoman.
“Why didn't you wait for us downstairs?” Eric asked.
“His name is Grant,” Cam told them. “This is his apartment.”
“What were you about to do?” Cam's father asked.
“I hope you weren't going to knock on the door,” Cam's mother said. “Chasing and catching a thief isn't something children should do. It's a job for the police.”
The policeman knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” a voice called from inside the apartment.
“It's the police. We'd like to ask a few questions.”
The door was opened by a boy wearing jeans.
“Is this the boy you think took the baseball?” the policeman asked.
“Yes,” Cam told him.
“No!” the boy shouted. “You're wasting your time. This is the second time these two kids have said I stole that baseball. I had one with me when I left the exhibit, but it wasn't the Babe Ruth ball. I showed it to them the last time.”
“Would you please show it to us?” the policewoman asked.
“Just a minute.”
The boy opened a closet near the front door of the apartment. Then he held out a baseball.
Cam looked at the ball. She closed her eyes and said,
“Click.”
“This isn't the same one you showed us in the park,” Cam said when she opened her eyes.
“Is this the Babe Ruth baseball?” the policewoman asked.
“No.”
“Then let's go.”
The boy was just closing the apartment door when something green caught Cam's eye. The boy's jacket was hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. And there was something on the kitchen table.
“Wait,” Cam said. “Don't close the door.”
Chapter Seven
Cam's father held the door open.
“What is it now?” the policewoman asked Cam.
“I saw the baseball. It's on the kitchen table.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think I'm sure.”
The policewoman looked inside the apartment. “Oh, there is a baseball on the table,” she said. “Bring it here,” she told the boy.
The boy walked slowly to the kitchen. He took the baseball off the table and brought it to the policewoman.
“It sure is old,” the policewoman said as she looked at the ball. “And it says here ‘To Henry Baker, from The Babe.' ”
“Maybe it's mine,” the boy said.
“Is it?” the policewoman asked.
“Well, no,” the boy said softly. “I took it from the old man. I'm sorry.”
“You'll have to come to the police station with us. We'll call your parents,” the policewoman said as she led the boy to the elevator.
“But first we'll stop at the exhibit,” the policeman said. “We'll return the baseball to Mr. Baker.”
They all squeezed into the police car. The boy just stared quietly out of the car window. But the police officers and Cam's parents weren't quiet at all. They talked all during the ride to the exhibit hall.
“I'm too young to remember the great Babe Ruth,” the policewoman said. “But my father told me lots of stories about him.
“His favorite story was about the time Babe Ruth hit a home run in the 1932 World Series. The score was tied. There were two strikes. The Babe pointed to the centerfield fence. Then ...” She paused.
“And then what happened?” asked Cam's mother.
“That's where he hit the very next pitch, right over the centerfield fence.”
“And on the
next
pitch,” the policeman said, “Lou Gehrig hit a home run.”
“He was a pretty good ballplayer, too,” Cam's father said.
When they reached the exhibit hall, Cam, her parents, Eric, and the policewoman went inside. Cam held the baseball with both hands.
Mr. Baker was sitting in the Babe Ruth corner of the exhibit. His head was down. Eric tapped him on the shoulder. Then Cam gave him the baseball.
“You found it! You found it!” Mr. Baker yelled. He hugged Cam, Cam's father, Eric, the policewoman, and a man who just happened to be walking past.
“Look, they found my baseball!” Mr. Baker told his wife when she came from the other side of the exhibit.
“I'm not putting this back on display,” Mr. Baker said as he put the baseball in his pocket. “Someone else might take it.”
“I want you to come to the station house and sign a complaint against the boy who took it,” the policewoman said. “Come as soon as the exhibit closes.”
The policewoman started to leave.
“Wait,” Mr. Baker said. He took a handful of baseball cards from the box. “Take this,” he said as he handed the policewoman a card. “It's Hank Aaron. He's the greatest home run hitter of all time. And here's George Brett and Yogi Berra and Willie Mays and Pete Rose.”
The policewoman held up her hands and said, “Oh, thank you, but don't give them to me. Give them to these two children. They're the ones who found your baseball.”
Mr. Baker gave the cards to Cam and Eric.
“Can you stay a little longer?” he asked Cam. “My wife would like to see you and your amazing mental camera at work.”
“Sure.”
“Good. Wait right here. I want everyone to see what a great memory you have.”
Chapter Eight
“May I have your attention, please,” a woman's voice called out over the loudspeaker. “First, I want to thank you for coming to our hobby show. And I want to invite all of you to go to Henry Baker's baseball exhibit. An amazing memory show will be given there in just a few minutes.”
A small crowd gathered around Mr. Baker's exhibit. Cam's parents stood right near the front. Both of them were tall and thin. Cam's father had red hair just like Cam. Cam's mother's hair was brown and curly.
Mr. Baker and Cam were standing on chairs. Mr. Baker quietly asked Cam a few questions. Then he announced, “The girl standing next to me is Jennifer Jansen. She is in the fifth grade, and she has a remarkable memory.”
Mr. Baker picked up a box and said, “I'm going to pick a few cards from this box. Jennifer will take a quick look at the cards. Then I'll let you test her memory.”
Mr. Baker picked out some cards and handed them to Cam. Cam said,
“Click,”
as she looked at each card. Then she gave the cards to Eric and closed her eyes.
Eric gave the cards to people in the crowd. “Ask her anything you want,” Eric told them.
“I'm holding a Dave Winfield card,” someone called out. “What's his middle name?”
“Mark.”
“What's Eddie Murray's hobby?”
“Basketball.”
A woman standing next to Cam's parents said, “She sure has an amazing memory.”
Cam's mother told the woman, “She's our daughter. We're very proud of her.”
“And not just because of her memory,” Cam's father said. “We were proud of her even before she said her first
‘Click.' ”
BOOK: The Mystery of Babe Ruth Baseball
7.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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