"Who Could That Be at This Hour?" (All the Wrong Questions) by Lemony Snicket

kidnap your father?” I asked her.
    “That’s the most mysterious part of all,” Ellington said, and poured herself more coffee. “My father never hurt anyone. He’s a kind, quiet man.” Two tears rolled out of her eyes, and she brushed them away with her smooth black sleeve. “And he’s a wonderful father. I’ve got to find him, Mr. Snicket. Will you help me?”
    I had fallen out of one mystery and into another, and perhaps that was why I made another promise, this one as foolish and wrong as all the others. “I’ll help you,” I said. “I promise. But not tonight. Right now I have to leave. Thanks for the coffee.”
    “You didn’t drink any.”
    “I told you I don’t drink coffee,” I said. “But come find me tomorrow and we can worktogether. I’m staying at the Lost Arms with my associate, S. Theodora Markson.”
    “What’s the S stand for?” she asked, but then there was a knock at the door. The clock above the fireplace told me it was close to two in the morning. Ellington looked at me and asked the question that is printed on the cover of this book. It was the wrong question, both when she asked it and later, when I asked it myself. The right question in this case was “What was happening while I was answering the door?” but when the hinges stopped creaking, I was thinking only of the Officers Mitchum, who were standing there with matching stern eyes.
    “Aren’t you that Snicket lad?” Harvey Mitchum barked at me while Mimi Mitchum barked, “What are you doing here?”
    I replied “yes” to the first question and “visiting a friend” to the second.
    “What sort of young man visits friends inthe middle of the night?” asked the male officer suspiciously, sniffing the air and frowning.
    “What sort of hanky-panky are you up to?” asked his wife.
    I replied “a friendly one” and “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” but I could tell these were the wrong answers.
    “We need to talk to you, Snicket,” Harvey Mitchum said. “There have been reports of a burglary. Somebody stole a very valuable statue in the shape of a mythical beast. Do you know anything about that?”
    “I’ve always been interested in mythology,” I said.
    “That’s not what I mean!” he snapped. “Your chaperone was hanging on the hawser and refused to tell us why.”
    “It’s still too early to make assumptions,” Mimi Mitchum said, “but it wouldn’t be surprising if she’s as big a criminal as you are, Snicket.”
    “I’d say she’s a bigger criminal,” her husband said.
    “No, he is.”
    “She is.”
    “We can settle this later,” Harvey Mitchum said with an annoyed look. “Right now we’re going to search the premises for this valuable statue.”
    “Don’t you need a warrant for that?” I asked.
    “This isn’t the Clusterous Forest,” the female Officer Mitchum said, gesturing behind her back. “This is Stain’d-by-the-Sea, and we are the law here. Step aside, Snicket.”
    I stepped aside, but not before looking behind me and seeing with relief that the Bombinating Beast was not in plain sight on the table. Instead, Ellington Feint was in plain sight, holding her envelopes and parcels in an awkward pile in her arms.
    “Good evening, Officers,” she said.
    “It’s not good evening ,” Harvey Mitchum said sternly, “it’s bad behavior . You should follow the example of my boy, Stewie. He knows better than to stay up late. That’s why he’s sleeping in the car right now.”
    “It keeps him calm,” said Mimi.
    “And alert,” said Harvey.
    “And good looking,” added his mother.
    “That’s true,” the male officer said. “Stew Mitchum is as cute as a button.”
    I tried to think of buttons I’d seen that liked to torture small animals, but I couldn’t.
    “Mr. Snicket,” Ellington said quickly, “will you help me with these parcels?”
    I took a step toward her. “Of course, Ms. Feint.”
    She smiled at the Mitchums. “Mr. Snicket and I were