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Now you can get a "sneak preview" of my fifth Hidden Treasure mystery, which I am working on right now.

First of all, here is something interesting about the new mystery. It's written in a reverse alphabet code. Can you figure out what it says? If you need the answer, scroll all the way down to the bottom of this page.

GSRH NBHGVIB GZPVH KOZXV RM TVINZMB

In The Secret on Peacock Island, Elizabeth and Jonathan again work with Peter, the German boy who worked with them on The Mystery of Observatory Hill and A Mystery in Maine. Peter has moved from Hamburg, Germany, to Berlin, Germany. At the beginning of the book a postcard arrives at Jonathan and Elizabeth's house.

Lola LaFarge needs our help! Top secret! The words, in thick red letters, were scrawled across a postcard sent from Berlin, Germany. Elizabeth Pollack, ace detective, knew of only one person who would send such a message – their German friend Peter. She was right. The card was signed at the bottom, modestly as always,Peter Hoffmann, Germany’s Number One Junior Detective Super Extraordinaire.

The next morning, Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, staring at the postcard as she slowly drummed her fingers. Typical Peter. Her friend had moved to Berlin just two weeks ago and had already sniffed out some kind of mystery. But . . . Lola LaFarge? What kind of person had a name like that?

Elizabeth read the message once again. She could almost hear Peter’s voice. Old-time English with a heavy German accent and the words rushing like a waterfall. Dear Elizabeth and Jonathan! What ho, old chaps! I am liking Berlin very much. You must visit this summer. Lola LaFarge needs our help! Top secret! Elizabeth propped the postcard against her cup of hot chocolate. One thing was sure. This wasn’t pretend. Peter had already helped solve two mysteries. Real ones. She leaned against the rounded back of the chair and stretched out her legs. She felt as comfortable as a cat. What could be better than a sunny breakfast with a serving of mystery on a crackly-cold Saturday in January? And – she glanced through the kitchen doorway – no kid brother to annoy her. She sank her teeth into a warm bagel dripping with strawberry jam.

“Hey, Elizabeth! I’m gonna get a hissing cockroach!” Jonathan crashed into the kitchen, waving a newspaper. “It’s right here in the want ads. Someone wants to give away a hissing cockroach. For free. And it’s even finger tame!”

“Finger tame?” Elizabeth tried not to choke on her bagel.

“Yeah. See, hissing cockroaches fit right in your hand. They’re not big. Only the size of a small mouse.” Elizabeth’s lip began to curl. Jonathan chattered on. “And they’re no trouble. You just have to clean up their little pellets. You know, the little black things that come out of their . . .”

“Jonathan . . . I don’t want to know.” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Her brother was nine years old. Sometimes she imagined him being sent to a faraway school. One of those schools where boys wear navy blue jackets and only come home on holidays. She had read books about places like that. “Anyway, you’re just making it up to ruin my breakfast.”

“I am not!” Jonathan slid the newspaper to Elizabeth’s side of the table. He placed his finger on the want ads. “It’s right there.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and glanced down. Suddenly she bent close to the page. She tapped her finger on an ad printed in bold type. “Look at this, Jon! There’s something here about Germany. About Berlin. Come to Germany this summer. Retired professor would like to trade his villa apartment in Berlin for a house near Milton College. Month of July only. Contact Professor Henirich Keller at Haus Sonnenschein.”

Elizabeth stood up in slow motion. She walked to the kitchen window, peering past the tangle of bare trees. The red brick buildings of Milton College were just over the hill. She could even see the pointy clock tower on the building where her mother taught history. Professor Heinrich Keller was looking for a house near the college. A house just like theirs!

Jonathan hovered over the newspaper. “You mean, we could just trade houses? So professor what’s-his-name would come and live in our house?”

“Exactly. And we would live in his house in Berlin. Just for July.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. Peter’s postcard came yesterday. Then today, she found this ad in the newspaper. As if . . . as if they were meant to go to Berlin.

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