Leo’s heart hammered. He flipped back to page 14—a slapstick comic about a detective named Inspector Piff. He looked closely. Behind the final panel, where the Inspector was slipping on a banana peel, there was a faint, raised outline. Using his fingernail, Leo carefully peeled back the edge of the paper. Hidden in the binding was a tiny, silver key.
The cover featured a psychedelic, hand-drawn illustration of a cat wearing aviator sunglasses, lounging on a slice of pepperoni pizza that was floating through a nebula. It was absurd, it was colorful, and it was exactly what Leo needed to escape another long summer in the suburbs. Piff Magazine No 46 1973
Leo looked at the trunk of the tree he was leaning against. High up, where the main branches split, was a knot that looked suspiciously like a keyhole. Leo’s heart hammered