PONS Die drei ??? Fragezeichen Soccer Gangsters mit Audio

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2. Explosive News

They decided to play on a small field with two center forwards and three defenders. Bob and Jimboy tried to score goals while the girls took over the defense. Justus pulled two benches onto the field for goals. Peter was the referee. For the kick-off he pretended to blow an imaginary whistle in a dramatic way. Soon it was clear that Jimboy really was an ace at soccer. He always stayed close on the ball, dribbled past his opponents any way he chose to, cleverly bluffed and kicked the ball into the improvised soccer goal four times.

Some students from the Three Investigators' high school watched the scene and wanted to know who this guy was and where he came from. Justus proudly introduced his cousin.

"He will probably have a great career," Justus heard one school mate say. "Only too bad," said another boy, "he specialised in soccer of all things. There's no money in that profession."

After they took a shower all seven of them went to a small café across the street. They ordered soft-drinks and burgers. "Do you really think that you can earn enough money by playing soccer?" Justus asked.

Jimboy nodded. "But a lot depends on the next soccer world championship. If enough people become enthusiastic about soccer then there'll soon be a better professional soccer league in the USA." He looked around. "And then I'll be one of them."

"I don't think so," Bob disagreed. "The first attempt to make soccer popular here was a big flop. Even though world-famous players like Pelé played in New York."

Kelly didn't agree. She said that, in the past, they forgot about the schools. And that nobody took care of youth work and the young and upcoming talents in our own country.

"You seem to know a lot about it." Jimboy was very impressed. Kelly smiled shyly and twirled her ponytail.

Justus was thinking about Jimboy's performance and the conversation that they had afterwards when he was looking at his cousin's documents in the office an hour later. "Like a male model," he said to himself. It was a proper application folder, with glossy photographs, CV, winner-certificates from tournaments that he participated in, a detailed list of all results of sports-medical examinations. Jimboy successfully applied at Tamilton High School with this portfolio. The school was connected to a college where he could continue, if he received good grades at school - without missing out on soccer.

Aunt Mathilda came and brought one of her famous cherry pies. Justus looked down at himself and was satisfied that he could afford this luxury without a bad conscience - after all, he had slimmed down lately because of his girlfriend, Lys, and all the exercise he'd been getting. Then he saw the two letters that the mailman put under the door. Justus took the letter opener and opened one of the envelopes. Inside was an advertisement for stationery paper.

"Where did they possibly get our address?" he murmured. At the same time he took the other envelope. He opened the envelope with the letter opener and there was suddenly a deafening bang.

He was pushed back into the chair as if a big force held him there. At the same time a terrible smell overwhelmed him. His eyes started to water. Justus struggled out of the chair and stumbled to the door.

Outside he took a few deep breaths. Then he looked around. Nobody noticed him. Nobody heard the sound of the explosion. The trucks nearby were making a lot of noise because they were unloading big rocks. They were working for hours.

He turned back around towards the trailer. Slowly gray smoke was drifting away through the open door. Justus was surprised that nothing was destroyed. He pinched his nose shut, returned to the office, took the letter opener and picked up the shredded envelope with it. Then he went outside again and pulled a rag out of his pocket. He held the envelope between his thumb and forefinger with the rag and took out the almost undamaged white piece of paper from inside.

"FRYDAY FUUTBALL FINDS FALSE FRIENDS" was written there. Justus saw right away that each of the letters was cut out of newspapers and that someone meant soccer, not football. "FAFNIR FIRES FIRESTONE ON FANS!"

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Twenty minutes later Bob's orange VW-beetle drove into the junkyard. Justus immediately alarmed the specialist for research, investigation technology and documentation.

"What a mess!" Bob said, wrinkled his nose and took a look at the hate mail. The postmark showed that the letter was posted in Los Angeles two days before. He carefully sprinkled gray powder on the piece of paper. "Maybe we're lucky and there will be nice and clear fingerprints," he said to himself. He repeated the same procedure with the envelope. Then he took out a small piece of cardboard with a pair of pincers. He nodded and showed Justus the fuse that was attached to the cardboard. Then he put the envelope into a transparent folder, sat down at the desk and took a closer look at the fuse mechanism with a magnifying glass.

"What do you think?" Justus bent over him from behind.

"The smelly powder was inside a plastic tube. And the tube was connected to the envelope by a thread. When you cut it with the letter opener the whole thing went off."

"So some kind of explosive was mixed with the smelly powder," Justus concluded.

"And it was exactly the right dose." Bob put the magnifying glass aside. "Somebody was at work here who knew exactly what he was doing. I'll take a closer look at the powder." He stood up and disappeared behind the thick laboratory curtain.

Justus called after him. First of all they had to find out which newspapers the letters were from. "It would be great if we could find out the date of the newspapers."

Bob came back. "That'll take a while, by then I'll know the mixture ratio of the ingredients." He bent over Justus' shoulder. "The sender is definitely not a soccer fan. But he likes alliterations." Surprised Justus looked at his friend. 'Alliterations?' Since when does Bob Andrews know such fancy words?

Annoyed, Bob frowned. Of course Justus Jonas was an absolute ace at almost every topic. But did he have to react so arrogantly when someone else knew something? Bob liked the word 'alliteration' when he heard it in class for the first time. He memorized: 'alliterations' were a number of words in a phrase starting with the same letter. And he also remembered that alliterations were popular among poets and in advertising. Bob swallowed his anger because there was one part of the hate mail he really couldn't figure out. "But you surely know who or what this Fafnir...