Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

“Look! That chip’s worth a thousand pounds!” Molly observed. “And she’s got about fifty of them.”

“And,” Micky noticed, “if the ball lands on a black number, she’ll win quite a few more.”

The croupier, a man in a dark waistcoat and a starched shirt and black trousers, stood calm and official behind the spinning roulette wheel. The little silver ball tittled and tattled, as though gossiping with the numbers on the roulette wheel as it spun. Then it stopped. For a few seconds it was impossible to see what color it had landed on, for the wheel was still a rotating blur.

“Red, fifty-two,” the croupier announced. Without a glimmer of emotion, he swept all the gambling chips off the numbered felt toward a slit in the table’s surface, through which the chips disappeared.

“Black must make a fortune!” Molly whispered.

“Just like a one-armed bandit,” said Micky.

“Yup. He’s an ugly bandit,” Molly agreed. “Come on, let’s get the book.”

The twins followed the vent up a slope and around a corner. Now it was dark again, and to make things worse, a cold breeze was blowing as the casino’s air conditioning blew through the vent. It made the tight passage like an arctic wind tunnel.

Finally they reached the grille. And true to Miss Hunroe’s plans, this vent looked down on Black’s casino office. Molly and Micky peered down. A glass kidney-shaped lamp with a brass stem lit the room, its warm glow making the green leather-topped desk and the paneled walls tinge with gold. A narrow slit window onto an alley outside let in a little more light from the street.

“Empty! Perfect,” Molly exclaimed, and she and Micky began easing off the metal grille.

“Bet I can punch it through,” Micky decided. “You hold it so it doesn’t fall out into the office.” Seconds later the grille had given way and Molly was quietly pulling it into the duct.

“After you,” Micky said.

Maneuvering herself so that her legs went first, Molly dropped into the room. Micky followed, and at once they set to work. Molly quickly began to lift pictures off the walls, peering behind them to see where the safe was.

“Maybe it’s under the carpet,” Micky whispered, lifting the corner of a Persian rug from the floor.

Molly opened the central drawer of the desk. And as though the heat of an oven had just hit her in the face, she stumbled backward.

“What is it?” Micky asked worriedly. Then, looking into the drawer himself, he uttered a sigh. “Wow!”

For there, almost so carelessly deposited that it seemed like it must be a trap, lay the book. Its brown leather cover, heavy with inlaid stones, had golden embossed words that read Hypnotism, Volume Two: The Advanced Arts.

Molly ran her fingers inside the indentation in the top right-hand corner of the leather cover and remembered Miss Speal’s stolen stone.

With a shaking hand, and full of respect for the book, Molly opened it.

Six

Molly glanced around the room suspiciously. “Can’t believe he left it in such an obvious place. Do you think it’s a trap? Or maybe the book’s a fake.” Something buzzed past her nose. “What was that?”

“A ladybug, Molly. You’re just jumpy because you’re nervous,” Micky said, jittering himself. “They’re crawling all over that plant.”

Molly pulled the heavy book from the drawer and opened it up. “Let’s check if it’s the real McCoy.”

The pages inside the book were yellow from age. Molly found the title page, Hypnotism, Volume Two: The Advanced Arts, and read on.

“By Dr. Logan, Published by Arkwright and Sons, 1910…I can hardly believe that our great-great-grandfather wrote this,” Molly whispered. “Can you? The first book was written in 1908. So he wrote this one two years after he wrote the first book.”

“It’s very fancy looking, with those stones stuck on the front,” Micky observed.

“Yes, much fancier than the first volume,” Molly agreed.

“Don’t expect there are many copies exactly like it,” Micky said. “Maybe it’s unique.”

“Let’s hope so,” Molly replied, running her fingers along the headings. “Do you think Black has photocopied it? “‘Chapter One,’” she quietly read, “‘Recapping Hypnotism. Chapter Two, Time Stopping. Chapter Three, Time Traveling…’ Ah, now this is more interesting. Look. ‘Chapter Four, Morphing—Animals. Chapter Five, Morphing—Humans. Chapter Six, Mind Reading. Chapter Seven, Hypno-Dreaming.’ Wonder what that is. ‘Chapter Eight, The Logan Stones. Chapter Nine, Possibilities.’ Wow.” Hurriedly, Molly flicked to the first page on morphing.

Unable to control their curiosity, the twins began to read the book’s instructions.

“‘MORPHING or body borrowing,’” read Micky,