The Smartest Kid in the Universe: Chapter 58–Epilogue

“A very wise observation,” said Jake. “Consider: Would we even know who Shakespeare was if a whole troupe of performers and stagecraft people hadn’t helped him put on his plays?”

“A very wise observation,” said Jake. “Consider: Would we even know who Shakespeare was if a whole troupe of performers and stagecraft people hadn’t helped him put on his plays?”

After dinner, Jake, Kojo, and Grace reconvened in Jake’s bedroom.

“Almost as odd as Grace getting sick right after she ate your brownies,” added Jake.
“Yes, I’ve been wondering about that, too,” said Mrs. Malvolio, placing a hand over her heart. “It’s almost as if someone tainted my brownies when I wasn’t looking.”

“We think the shirts are a little too splashy,” said Grace. “Too showy. We don’t want to look conceited when we win.”

“Good to see you guys,” he whispered. “Follow me. We have to take a circuitous route to my office. That way we can avoid all the cameras.”

Mr. Lyons led Jake, Grace, and Kojo on a serpentine path through the cafeteria and the corridors.

In one hall, they had to zig and zag to opposite sides and sidle along the lockers to avoid the security cameras.

The team made it to the doorway on the right, which, of course, was closed. It took all three of them, and several grunts, to shove open the heavy metal panel. It screeched on its hinges the whole way. On the other side, a new kind of passageway presented itself. This one seemed to be a natural crevice slicing through slick, smooth stone.

Jake swung up his flashlight and illuminated several tapering stone icicles suspended from the ceiling of the cave.

Jake swung up his flashlight and illuminated several tapering stone icicles suspended from the ceiling of the cave.
“Those are stalactites, formed of calcium salts deposited by dripping water. The ones jutting up from the floor are called stalagmites. One way to tell them apart is this simple mnemonic device—”

Jake swung up his flashlight and illuminated several tapering stone icicles suspended from the ceiling of the cave.
“Those are stalactites, formed of calcium salts deposited by dripping water. The ones jutting up from the floor are called stalagmites. One way to tell them apart is this simple mnemonic device—”

Jake swung up his flashlight and illuminated several tapering stone icicles suspended from the ceiling of the cave.
“Those are stalactites, formed of calcium salts deposited by dripping water. The ones jutting up from the floor are called stalagmites. One way to tell them apart is this simple mnemonic device—”

“How does that happen?” said Kojo.
“By invoking the ‘treasure trove’ notion of common law,” said Jake. “It refers to any property that is verifiably antiquated and has been concealed for so long that the owner is probably dead or unknown and certainly unlikely to demand that their goods be returned. In such an instance, ‘finders keepers’ would apply.”

“How does that happen?” said Kojo.
“By invoking the ‘treasure trove’ notion of common law,” said Jake. “It refers to any property that is verifiably antiquated and has been concealed for so long that the owner is probably dead or unknown and certainly unlikely to demand that their goods be returned. In such an instance, ‘finders keepers’ would apply.”

“How does that happen?” said Kojo.
“By invoking the ‘treasure trove’ notion of common law,” said Jake. “It refers to any property that is verifiably antiquated and has been concealed for so long that the owner is probably dead or unknown and certainly unlikely to demand that their goods be returned. In such an instance, ‘finders keepers’ would apply.”

“How does that happen?” said Kojo.
“By invoking the ‘treasure trove’ notion of common law,” said Jake. “It refers to any property that is verifiably antiquated and has been concealed for so long that the owner is probably dead or unknown and certainly unlikely to demand that their goods be returned. In such an instance, ‘finders keepers’ would apply.”

The team made their way up the slick fissure.
“Another split, you guys,” said Grace.
“This time we go left,” said Kojo. “Right?”
“Correct!” said Grace and Jake. “Left.”

“Bats go to work at night. They ‘see’ in the dark using a special skill called echolocation. It’s a little like sonar in that—”
“Jake?!” Kojo and Grace said it together.
“Sorry. Something about the adrenaline associated with this treasure hunt has shifted my brain into hyperdrive.”

“It’s night,” said Jake. “Bats go to work at night. They ‘see’ in the dark using a special skill called echolocation. It’s a little like sonar in that—”
“Jake?!” Kojo and Grace said it together.
“Sorry. Something about the adrenaline associated with this treasure hunt has shifted my brain into hyperdrive.”

“That makes absolutely no sense, Jake,” said Grace. “I know you just learned Spanish yesterday, but come on.” She hunkered down and quickly rearranged the stones to construct a different sentence.

“There never was a fire pit! Your ancestor was a genius, Grace. A math prodigy. The cabin boy knew how to do plane geometry and trigonometry, maybe even better than Mr. Keeney. All along, there was only one way to find his buried treasure! With math!”

Kojo set his phone on a rocky outcropping on the nearest cave wall and started recording.

LeVisqueux was brandishing a sword.
He was, as the FBI had predicted, armed and dangerous.

“None of that matters,” said Jake. “We found it first. And, if I might cite the common law principle governing this sort of treasure salvage, it clearly states—”

“None of that matters,” said Jake. “We found it first. And, if I might cite the common law principle governing this sort of treasure salvage, it clearly states—”

A few stalactite spears lost their grip on the ceiling and plummeted, shattering on the rock-strewn floor like falling icicles in a thaw.

The first “another way” was the math problem. If there never was a fire pit, the cabin boy knew that to find his treasure, his descendants would need to explore another way of solving the problem. They’d have to use the plane geometry solution. They could imagine a virtual fire pit at any random point. Its true location was irrelevant to finding the treasure. But what was the second “another way”?

“Eww, what’s that smell?” said Grace.
Jake sniffed the air the way a sophisticated connoisseur might. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the familiar and fragrant scent of yesterday’s french fries and deep-fried chicken nuggets.”

“Then let’s get out of here!” said Grace, scampering down the ladder first.
“I’m right behind you, baby,” shouted Kojo.

Jake, Grace, and Kojo ran up the narrow cobblestone corridor to the dappled circle of light on the floor.

With invaluable assistance from Mrs. Malvolio, who, as Kojo predicted, sang like a bird and folded like a cheap suitcase (two more of his favorite detective cliches), the FBI quickly apprehended and arrested both Heath Huxley and Eriq LeVisqueux.

But even after she had given away 55 percent of her wealth, Grace was still the richest twelve-year-old in the world. She immediately set up a trust fund for the “perpetual betterment of Riverview Middle School and all struggling public education facilities in the city.”

Kojo donated most of his treasure money to the same fund. But he kept enough to buy a complete, professional-grade forensics investigation kit.

Jake sighed. Guess I won’t be making paella tonight.