Claudia and the Mystery at the Museum

by Ann M. Martin

  “We were just down the hall from it,” I said, remembering how I’d heard the sound of breaking glass. I told my friends about the robbery. “It was pretty exciting,” I said. “First of all, I thought there was a fire somewhere because the fire alarm went off. That was scary, since I was responsible for the girls. Then, on top of that, another alarm went off, and the guards herded us all back into the museum to be searched.”

  “Wow, just like on TV!” said Stacey. “Did you see anyone suspicious?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “There was this guy with one blue eye and one green eye, and a whole troop of Brownies. The custodian was there, with his mop and pail. But nobody looked really suspicious. I mean, there weren’t any guys with trenchcoats and briefcases or anything.” I paused to munch on a Dorito.

  “I wonder where those coins are now,” said Shannon. Her eyes were gleaming. She likes a mystery as much as the rest of us. “I mean, they could be anywhere.”

  “Not really,” said Mal. She had been listening closely to everything I had said, and I had noticed her reading the article very carefully. “Those coins are still somewhere inside the museum.”

  “What?” exclaimed Stacey. “How can you be sure?”

  Mallory held up her hand and started ticking off points on her fingers. “First of all, when the alarm sounded, they made sure all the exits were guarded. Nobody was allowed to leave. Then they searched everybody who had been inside — including the guards and the staff. There’s almost no way the coins could have left the building.”

  “Wow,” I said softly. “You’re right. I didn’t think of that.”

  Kristy leaned forward. “So where do you think they are?” she asked Mal.

  Mal put down her hand and shrugged. “I have no idea,” she said. “All I know is that they must be in the museum.”

  The phone began to ring then, and for the next few minutes we were busy setting up jobs. Or, at least, everyone else was busy. I was just sitting there, thinking as hard as I could. As soon as Kristy finished with the last call, I spoke up. “Okay,” I said. “I’ve thought of a few places where the coins might be.”

  “So have I,” said Jessi. Obviously, she had been thinking, too. “But you go first, Claud.”

  “They could have been dropped into the donation box,” I said. “It’s a big steel case near the front entrance. You’re supposed to donate some money every time you come to the museum. You don’t have to — it’s not like paying admission — but if you can, you should.”

  “Did you donate?” asked Stacey playfully. She must have thought I was getting a little too serious about things.

  “Of course!” I said. “The girls each put in a quarter, and I put in two dollars.” I took another handful of Doritos. “Okay, next possible place. How about the museum gift shop? We took a quick look at it yesterday, and I noticed that they sell reproductions of the ancient coins. The thief could have put the real coins in with the fake ones, and nobody would know the difference.” I stopped and looked around. I was proud of my ideas, and I could see that everyone else thought they were good, too. Mary Anne was taking notes. Kristy was nodding and biting on the pencil she usually keeps behind her ear. “What about your ideas, Jessi?” I asked.

  “I really only have one,” she said. “I heard that the museum has a big fountain in the courtyard. And you know how people throw pennies into fountains, to make wishes? Maybe the thief threw the coins in there, hoping nobody would notice them.”

  “Great,” said Mary Anne, making a note of Jessi’s idea.

  “I guess we’ve already decided that we’re going to try to solve this mystery,” said Kristy, raising her eyebrows.

  “Definitely,” I said. “I mean, sure the police are working on it. But I was there when it happened. There’s no way I can forget about it now. Plus, that museum is really important to me. It just opened, and I’d hate to see it close because of this.”

  “Okay,” said Kristy. “So what do we do next?”

  “Well,” I said, “I guess we go back to the museum and check out some of these ideas. Maybe we’ll come up with some others, too. Plus, we have to watch out for suspicious characters.”

  “Like the man with one green eye and one blue eye?” asked Shannon.

  “Sure,” I said. “Anybody who was there is a suspect.” I thought for a second. “Except me, of course. And except for Corrie and Carolyn and Marilyn.”

  “Even the Brownies?” asked Stacey, with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Even the Brownies,” I answered solemnly. “Who knows? They could have stashed the coins under one of their beanies or something.” I giggled.

  Everybody else cracked up, too. “Gotta watch out for those Brownies,” said Kristy.

  Mal had picked up the newspaper again. “It says here that all kinds of events are coming up at the museum,” she said. “They’re really trying to make the first month exciting, to give the museum a push. It will take a lot of community support to keep the museum going.”

  I nodded. “My parents have been saying the same thing,” I said. “So what’s going on there?”

  “Well, there’s a big formal party planned for the last night of the Don Newman exhibit. Plus a cocktail party to celebrate the museum’s one month anniversary. And they’re going to have a special exhibit about historical Stoneybrook.”

  “Those would be perfect opportunities for us to do a lot of detective work,” said Kristy.

  “Wouldn’t it be cool if we could somehow go to the Don Newman party?” I said dreamily. “I’d give anything to meet him.”

  “Yeah, but there’s no way any of us could get invited to that,” said Mal. “It’s going to be really fancy. Black tie, it says here. That means it’s formal. I bet the only people who get invited are the rich ones who gave the museum a lot of money.”

  We all looked at Kristy then. Her stepfather is the only really rich person we know. She shook her head. “I don’t think Watson gave money to the museum,” she said.

  “Oh, well,” I said. “Even if we can’t go to the parties, we can check out the historical thing, and we can still walk into the museum anytime we want. Who wants to go there with me tomorrow?” I looked around the room. It was obvious that everyone wanted to. “Great,” I said. “Why don’t we meet here at about —” Just then, the phone rang again. Kristy picked it up.

  “Sure, Mrs. Pike,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Mal. “No problem. We’ll have someone there.” She hung up. “Your mom says she and your dad are taking your brothers and sisters to the mall tomorrow to shop for school clothes. She wants you to go along, and since you haven’t been feeling well, she was hoping another sitter could go, too.”

  Mal rolled her eyes and flopped down on the floor. “Good-bye, museum,” she said, good-humoredly. “When you have a big family, clothes-shopping is like an Olympic event. I’m exhausted just thinking about it. But there’s no way I can get out of this.”

  “I’ll go with you,” volunteered Mary Anne. As usual, she was being sweet and sensitive. “I saw a sweater I wanted last time I was there.”

  The rest of us made plans to meet at the museum the next morning.

  “Okay,” said Kristy, a few minutes later, “meeting adjourned. Oh, and by the way, Claudia,” she added. “Good job cleaning your room.” She nodded toward my closet door, which had fallen open. A huge pile of clothes was cascading out of it. I blushed as everybody cracked up. Then I started laughing, too. At least they had noticed I tried.

  Mary Anne arrived at the Pike house that morning just as Mr. and Mrs. Pike were starting to load the kids into the two cars they would be taking to the mall. (Whenever the Pikes take a family trip, they have to take two cars. Someday maybe they’ll be able to buy one of those mini-vans, but until then, they use this system.) Getting the kids set to go somewhere can take awhile. Mrs. Pike once said that it’s like trying to herd sheep into a pen, and that maybe a good sheepdog would come in handy.

  “Byron,” she
called. “Adam, Jordan! Put down those swords and get into the car!” The triplets, who are ten years old, have been playing “knight” lately. Basically, that means they spend a lot of time bashing each other with these silly-looking foam rubber swords.

  “Take that, you varlet!” said Adam, landing one last blow on Jordan’s shoulder. He dashed into the car before Jordan could hit him back, and his brothers chased after him. Mrs. Pike closed the back door of the station wagon as soon as the three of them had jumped in.

  “Three down, four to go,” she said. “Claire! Margo! Time to get in the car.”

  Claire, who’s five, was performing a tap dance on the concrete floor of the garage. She had bribed seven-year-old Margo to be her audience by promising to give her her share of dessert that night. “On the goooooood ship, Lollipop,” she sang, as she tapped away. Margo pretended to watch politely, but Mary Anne could see that she had a book hidden in her lap. She turned a page every time Claire turned her back. When Margo heard her mother calling, she looked relieved. “Coming,” she said, dragging a still-singing Claire along with her.

  “Where’s Nicky?” asked Mrs. Pike, when Mr. Pike came outside to see how the loading process was going.

  “He’s upstairs, changing his socks,” said Adam, before Mr. Pike had a chance to answer. “He’s been wearing the same ones for, like, three weeks, and Mal told him he had to put on fresh ones if he was going to try on new shoes today.” Nicky is eight, and he doesn’t believe in “wasting” clean clothes by changing too often.

  Mrs. Pike nodded approvingly. “And Vanessa?”

  “She’s up in her room, putting the finishing touches on a poem,” answered Mr. Pike. “She says she’ll be right down.” Vanessa, who’s nine, wants to be a poet when she grows up. She likes to compose poems for special occasions, and she likes to share them, so whoever rode in the car with her would probably be treated to a recitation of “An Ode to the Mall,” or something like that.

  By the time Nicky and Vanessa ran downstairs, Claire had decided she needed to use the bathroom one last time. When Claire climbed into the car, Margo realized she had forgotten to bring her “barf bag,” which she usually needs on long car rides, so she ran back into the house. Then Adam remembered some hidden money he’d saved from his last allowance, and he dashed to his room to find it.

  Finally, all seven kids, plus Mal and Mary Anne, plus Mr. and Mrs. Pike, were packed into the two cars. They pulled out of the driveway and started down the street, with Claire singing, “We’re off to see the ma-all, the wonderful Washington Mall,” to the tune of “We’re Off To See the Wizard.”

  The trip to the mall was uneventful. Mary Anne told me later that she had been riding next to Margo, and had worried about Margo “hurling,” as the triplets put it, but although Margo had looked a little pale for a few minutes, the barf bag turned out to be unnecessary. “Lucky me,” said Mary Anne, with relief.

  As soon as the cars were parked, the trip went into high gear. Everyone piled out and ran into the mall, ignoring Mr. and Mrs. Pike’s pleas to stay together and “proceed in an organized fashion.” The triplets and Nicky headed straight for the video arcade, and Mal and her dad had to run after them and drag them to the shoe store. Claire and Margo let their noses lead them to the store that sells giant chocolate chip cookies, and they stood there with their faces pressed against the window until Mrs. Pike convinced them to follow her to the department store where they were going to look for clothes. Vanessa wandered dreamily around the fountain that splashes in the middle of the mall, watching the poetic way the water rose and fell. Mary Anne had to listen to Vanessa’s “Fountain” haiku before she could convince her to join the other girls in looking over new sweaters and blouses. Seeing the fountain reminded Mary Anne of the fountain we were going to check at the museum, but she had no time to stop and think about the mystery.

  After the “first round,” as Mrs. Pike called the first hour or so of shopping, everyone gathered for lunch at the pizza parlor. Mrs. Pike pulled a long list from her shoulder bag and began to check off items that had already been bought. “Nicky — sneakers,” she said, making a check mark. “Vanessa — white blouse. Claire — sweater and skirt. Adam, Jordan, and Byron — good shoes.” She sighed. “We still have a long way to go,” she reported. “The girls all need shoes, and the boys have to have some new jeans. Shirts, too.”

  “I saw a pair of boots I liked when I was with Dad and the boys at the shoe store,” said Mal. “I’ll go back there with you and the girls.”

  “And I still want to check out that sweater I saw,” said Mary Anne. “I’ll go back to the department store and help the boys find what they need.”

  “You two are great,” said Mr. Pike to Mal and Mary Anne. “There’s no way we could do this without you.” He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead. He looked very tired. Helping four boys try on shoes had not been easy.

  Claire shrieked. “Nicky, stop it!” she cried. “Mommy, Nicky chewed his pizza and then opened his mouth and showed it to me.”

  “Ew,” said Mary Anne. She felt a little sick just thinking about how chewed pizza would look.

  “Did not!” said Nicky, swallowing quickly.

  “Did too!” said Claire.

  “That’s enough,” said Mrs. Pike. “Nicky, if you want to play ‘see-food,’ play it with your brothers. The rest of us aren’t interested.” Mary Anne admired Mrs. Pike’s matter-of-fact tone, and realized she must have been through this argument a thousand times before. You can always learn something new about dealing with kids from watching Mr. and Mrs. Pike deal with theirs.

  “Ready?” asked Mr. Pike.

  “Just about,” said Mrs. Pike, taking a last sip of water.

  “Mom, can I have another piece of pizza?” asked Adam. “I dropped mine on the floor.”

  “Did you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “I could have sworn I saw you eat it. And there aren’t any slices on the floor.”

  “Well,” said Adam. “A dog came and ate it?”

  “Let’s go,” said Mr. Pike, ignoring the situation. “I want to get home sometime before midnight.”

  The Pikes and Mary Anne headed out of the pizza place and down a corridor they hadn’t yet explored. Claire ran ahead to check out a display in the center of the hall. Then she ran back. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were gleaming. “Mommy!” she said. “Daddy! There’s something I have to show you.” She grabbed their hands and pulled them toward the display. “Look,” she said. “I can make a really professional movie here! It’s just what I always wanted to do. Can I? Please? Pretty please?”

  Mr. and Mrs. Pike looked the booth over. So did Mary Anne, Mal, and the rest of the kids. They saw that customers could be videotaped as if they were playing a part in a movie. They could dress in a costume, stand in front of a backdrop, and sing along to a pre-recorded tape.

  Mary Anne saw an orphanage set for Annie, along with a curly haired wig and a red dress. She saw a set of the Ghostbusters’ office, and official-looking Ghostbuster outfits. And she saw —

  “The yellow brick road!” cried Claire. “I can wear that blue dress and look just like Dorothy!” She turned to her parents again. “Oh, Mommy, please? I promise I’ll be good for the rest of my life.”

  Mrs. Pike turned to Mr. Pike and raised her eyebrows. He shook his head slightly, pointing to the price on the sign. She looked at it and winced. “Are you sure you want to do this, Claire?” she asked. “It’s very expensive.”

  “I want to do it more than anything in the whole wide world,” said Claire passionately.

  Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Pike relented. “All right, honey,” said Mrs. Pike. “I guess we can count this as an early Christmas present. Now, where do we go?” She glanced behind the booth and gasped. “My goodness, there’s a long line,” she said.

  “No way I’m waiting in line,” said Nicky. “I have important stuff to do.”

  “We all do,” said Mr. Pike. “Claire, w
e can come back another day,” he began, but Claire started to wail.

  “Why don’t I wait with her?” asked Mary Anne. “I don’t mind, really.” She was just as glad to avoid jeans-shopping with the boys. And that’s how Mary Anne ended up watching Claire make her film debut.

  “She was really very good,” Mary Anne told me later. Claire spent her time waiting in line figuring out what to sing, and finally decided on “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” even though, as she pointed out, Dorothy really sings that song in Kansas and not when she’s on the Yellow Brick Road in Oz. When she reached the head of the line, she put on the blue gingham dress, slipped the prop picnic basket over her arm, stepped onto the set, and sang her heart out. “The other people on line actually applauded,” said Mary Anne, when she finished telling me the story.

  And Claire hugged her “professional video” to her chest all the way home from the mall, looking happier and prouder than an actor with an Oscar.

  “Awesome!” said Kristy, looking around the Discovery Room. “Karen and Andrew and David Michael are going to love this.”

  “So will Becca,” said Jessi. “We’ll have to bring all the kids we sit for. This’ll be great for rainy days.”

  “Wait till Charlotte gets a look at that robot,” said Stacey. She was talking about Charlotte Johanssen, who is one of her favorite kids to sit for.

  Shannon was looking at the exhibit about physical disabilities. “It really makes you understand how hard this could be,” she said. She sat in a wheelchair and wheeled herself around for a minute. “Whew!” she said. “That takes a lot of muscle power.”

  My friends and I were back at the museum (in case you haven’t guessed), and they seemed just as excited about it as I had been. They wanted to see everything. I led them through the mole tunnel and into the Science Room, where Kristy insisted on shaking hands with the skeleton and Shannon tried out the Van de Graaff generator. We all cracked up when her long, thick hair stood on end.

  “I think you should wear your hair that way the next time you go to a dance,” I said. “It looks super-chilly.” (That’s what my friends and I say when we mean “cool.”)