The Smartest Kid in the Universe: Chapters 40–57

“And he’s charming, too?” seethed Mr. Huxley. “We need to hatch a plan. We must destroy this boy.”

“Here’s your question: If you take one letter away from the word ‘friend’ and put the rest into a different order, what word would you create? ‘Blend,’ ‘diner,’ ‘fiend,’ or ‘freak’?”
“Ah,” said Jake. “Very tricky, Jenna. The answer, of course, is ‘diner.’ ‘Fiend’ is the word you would get if you took away one letter—‘r’ in this instance—but didn’t rearrange the letters. ‘Diner’ fulfills both criteria specified in the question.”

“Well, Uncle Heath, not to be a Debbie Downer, but technically, until we recover the treasure, it’s not really”—she made air quotes—“‘rightfully yours.’”
“Oh yes it is, Patricia. It is my inheritance. It is our family’s legacy! Whatever is buried under that school is Mieras money!”

“Because they didn’t want word of their bungling to spread. I was the first to even have an inkling as to where the vile cabin boy had hidden what is rightfully ours—because I paid good money for that information. Now it is up to us to avenge our family’s honor and reclaim Dog Breath’s buried treasure. It is our destiny, Patricia. And to fulfill it, we must tear down that school! Me ayudaras en mi busqueda?”

“Because they didn’t want word of their bungling to spread. I was the first to even have an inkling as to where the vile cabin boy had hidden what is rightfully ours—because I paid good money for that information. Now it is up to us to avenge our family’s honor and reclaim Dog Breath’s buried treasure. It is our destiny, Patricia. And to fulfill it, we must tear down that school! Me ayudaras en mi busqueda?”

“Because they didn’t want word of their bungling to spread. I was the first to even have an inkling as to where the vile cabin boy had hidden what is rightfully ours—because I paid good money for that information. Now it is up to us to avenge our family’s honor and reclaim Dog Breath’s buried treasure. It is our destiny, Patricia. And to fulfill it, we must tear down that school! Me ayudaras en mi busqueda?”

“That publicity stunt at the college?” said Kojo, crunching into a piece of cinnamon toast. “Now, that was pure genius, baby. You’re going to be getting offers to endorse products. I’m thinking Cracker Jacks could be renamed Cracker Jakes!”

Jake and Kojo were whisked through security. They surrendered their phones and were given laminated high-security clearance badges on lanyards.

“This McQuade?” asked a gruff guard.
“Roger that,” said the lead Marine.
“Who’s the other kid?”
“I’m Kojo Shelton, sir,” said Kojo. “I’m kind of like Jake’s sidekick. He’s Batman, I’m Robin. He’s Captain America, I’m Bucky Barnes. He’s—”

The guard took Jake and Kojo into a conference room where a gray-haired general with a colorful salad of ribbons on his chest was impatiently waiting for the dozen assorted military personnel seated at the table and clacking their laptops to tell him something he needed to know.

“Son, I’m General Joe Coleman. They tell me you’re smarter than Einstein.”
“I don’t know about that, sir,” Jake answered modestly. “I did score pretty high on an IQ test.”
“This is no time for modesty, son.”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

The general snatched up a sheet of paper near one of the keyboard clackers.
“We intercepted this coded message from a hostile ship patrolling near the Strait of Hormuz.”

The general snatched up a sheet of paper near one of the keyboard clackers.
“We intercepted this coded message from a hostile ship patrolling near the Strait of Hormuz.”

“Exactly,” said General Coleman, squinting hard. “So, son, can you decode this thing? So far, our top cryptographers, all of whom are assembled here, haven’t been able to. What are the hostiles’ intentions? Do I need to alert the president and ask him to authorize a preemptive military strike?”

“Exactly,” said General Coleman, squinting hard. “So, son, can you decode this thing? So far, our top cryptographers, all of whom are assembled here, haven’t been able to. What are the hostiles’ intentions? Do I need to alert the president and ask him to authorize a preemptive military strike?”

“Well done, son,” said the general. “You just saved us from making a major military blunder. Well done, indeed!”

“Right. Those. So, Subject One, this is my urgent status report. I may have an antidote. I may also have a Spanish-language jelly bean. Which one do you want me to complete first?”
Okay, this was a new conundrum (what old Jake would’ve just called a difficult question). If there was an antidote, should Jake take it?

Struchen cleared his throat. “We have impounded the rental vehicle as evidence. Mr. Shaffer put on a lot of mileage.”

“So it’s possible that Mr. Shaffer flew to Columbus, drove to Bakersfield, robbed the bank, and drove back to Ohio, where he caught a flight home to California a few days later to give himself an alibi?”
“That’s what we think,” said Struchen, planting his hands on the conference table and leaning in.

“Okay. Have your people in Ohio scrape the windshield and the grill. The front license plate, too, if there is one. We need to analyze any and all squished bugs.”
“Squished bugs?”
Jake nodded. “You’re also going to need an expert entomologist. Someone who can identify all the insects.”

“Here we go,” he announced. “Two species of Hemiptera, or ‘true bugs’—Neacoryphus rubicollis AND Piesma brachiale—plus the leg of a rainbow grasshopper, all of which are endemic to the western United States, not Ohio.”

Jake received a hero’s welcome when he returned to Riverview on Friday morning. Banners festooned the much cleaner hallways.

Grace rattled her head like she was trying to clear Jake’s and Kojo’s words out of her ears. “What are you two talking about?”
“Nothing,” said Jake. “It’s just a hypothetical ethics debate.”

Mr. Lyons reached into the safe and pulled out a document that was sealed inside a thick plastic sheet. It was an antique parchment, the pale brownish color of a tea stain.

“It would be a lot easier if everything down below had remained exactly as it was when young Eduardo wrote it,” said Mr. Lyons. “All we know for certain is that the treasure is hidden in a cavernous room underneath this school.”

“Can we crack open the window, baby?” said Kojo. “I’m burning up.”
Jake jimmied up the window. “Sorry. Steam heat radiators.”

“Could I trouble you for some water? Feeling a mite parched.”

“Okay,” said Kojo. “That was weird. And I am not wearing that spangly T-shirt.”

“Some give credit for the dish to Pope Benedict the Thirteenth, who was put on a strict eggs and toast diet. However, most culinary experts agree that the dish was named after Lemuel Benedict, a Wall Street stockbroker who wandered into a hotel one morning in 1894 and, hoping to find a cure for his grogginess, ordered buttered toast, poached eggs, crisp bacon, and a dollop of hollandaise sauce. Canadian bacon was soon substituted for the regular bacon, and the rest is, as they say, history.”

“No,” insisted Jake. “It was Mrs. Malvolio and her accomplices! You guys saw the closed window. You know she doesn’t want us anywhere near the Quiz Bowl. Somebody broke in here while we were out in the living room dealing with her. They planted that evidence. That’s how they could tell the police exactly where to find it.”

He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was one of those bumpy ones, with what builders called a textured finish. As Jake studied the bumps, he started seeing patterns in the dots. Constellations of stars. Three-dimensional trigonometry problems. Vectors depicting advanced computer-aided design models for amazing new skyscrapers.

He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was one of those bumpy ones, with what builders called a textured finish. As Jake studied the bumps, he started seeing patterns in the dots. Constellations of stars. Three-dimensional trigonometry problems. Vectors depicting advanced computer-aided design models for amazing new skyscrapers.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected, thank you for asking. However, my laboratory was completely destroyed. I was working on your jelly beans, Jake. But I can’t tell you their formulas because the fire destroyed my computers. Melted them into smoldering lumps. The inferno also devoured my notes, my files, my chemicals, and my equipment. Everything. It’s all gone. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“I’m doing as well as can be expected, thank you for asking. However, my laboratory was completely destroyed. I was working on your jelly beans, Jake. But I can’t tell you their formulas because the fire destroyed my computers. Melted them into smoldering lumps. The inferno also devoured my notes, my files, my chemicals, and my equipment. Everything. It’s all gone. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“The State Quiz Bowl is still on for nine a.m. Wednesday,” she’d told Jake when he had his breakfast of oatmeal (because it looked the most like the gruel they served in prisons and he sure felt like he was in prison).