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the water went down.
    “I don’t know what you two were up to,” said Dad, “but you kids are going to clean up this mess.”
    Mom handed her rubber gloves to Judy.
    “Grab a bucket, Suds,” said Judy. “I’ll get the mop, and we’ll clean up the scene of the crime.” So much for the Judy Moody Detective Agency. It was more like the Mop and Bucket Brigade.
    As soon as the bathroom was sparkling clean, Judy and Stink ran outside to meet Rocky and Frank at the old manhole. “Somebody in this neighborhood has got to have a broken toilet for real,” said Stink.
    “Let’s knock on doors and ask,” said Judy. “But if anybody wants your name, use a fake one, just in case. In
The Thirteenth Pearl
, Nancy Drew uses the alias Nan Drewry.”
    “I’ll be James Madison. Judy, you be Elizabeth Blackwell.”
    “Duh. Everybody knows we’re not them,” said Judy.
    “Okay, then I’ll be James Madagascar,” said Stink.
    “I’ll be Liz Inkwell.”
    “Spuds Houdini,” said Rocky.
    “Dills Pickle,” said Frank.
    Liz Inkwell rang bells. Dills Pickle knocked on doors. They asked, “Is your toilet broken?” But not one single house in the whole entire state of Virginia, it seemed, had a broken toilet. Not even a stopped-up sink or a semi-flooded basement.
    “We’ll never find Mr. Chips,” said Liz Inkwell. “Nancy Drew would have found him three days ago. First, she would have been kidnapped, bound and gagged, and thrown in a river. But by now she’d be at the River Heights Police Station collecting a big, fat medal.”
    “Boo-hoo, Nancy Drew,” said James Madagascar. “Rule Number One: A good detective does not get in a bad mood.”
    “You’re right, Stink. A good detective always keeps her spirits up.”
    Judy shook herself to shake off her bad mood. “Eureka! I’ve got it! If those thieves know we’re onto them, maybe they’re not pretending to be plumbers anymore.”
    “A dognapper could pretend to look like anybody,” said Rocky.
    “Yeah, an old lady. A dog walker. An elf. A clown,” said Judy.
    “How about a mailman?” asked Frank, pointing across the street.
    “Hey, it’s Jack Frost!” said Stink as they ran toward his mail truck. “Is your toilet broken, by any chance?”
    “Have you seen a green van around here?” Frank asked.
    “How about any cute, brown, and hairy dogs?” Judy asked.
    “Who answer to the name of Mr. Chips?” asked Stink.
    “Or any sneaky bad guys who look like plumbers?” Frank asked.
    “Or any old ladies or clowns who look like sneaky bad guys?” Rocky asked.
    “One question at a time! Let’s see . . .” Jack Frost scratched his beard. “I did see Mildred Benson’s Chihuahua. But he’s not cute. And he’s not hairy. I haven’t seen any green vans, just two white cable TV trucks. No suspicious old ladies today. And not one single clown.”
    “Roar,” said Judy.
    “But there is one thing that’s strange. Might be a mystery.”
    “What? What?” they all said at once. “What is it? Tell us!”
    Jack Frost held up an empty sandwich bag. “I packed a lunch this morning and put it in the truck. But when I got back to the truck at lunchtime after walking my route, my food was missing.”
    “Strange,” said Stink.
    “Weird,” said Rocky and Frank.
    “Interesting,” said Judy. She peered at the plastic baggie up close. She held it up to the light. “Was it a baloney sandwich?”
    “Yes. Yes, it was.”
    “Did your baloney sandwich have mustard?”
    “Yes. Yes, it did,” said Jack Frost.
    “How did you know that?” asked Rocky.
    She pointed with her Grouchy pencil. “There’s a mustard fingerprint right here. And I can smell the baloney.”
    “So it was Colonel Mustard, with the baloney sandwich, in the mail truck!”
    “Or,” said Stink, “maybe a koala ate the baloney sandwich.”
    Judy shot him a super-sidewinder stare. A poison-dart-frog glare. “What?”
    “Fact,” said Stink. “Koalas are one of the only animals with