“It’s the right thing to do, dear. The detectives and I don’t know enough to say anything early on, and we don’t want to say something we might regret by the time a crime scene is examined and the witnesses are interviewed,” she explained, massaging my aching calves while she talked. “The facts should come out in a courtroom, not off the cuff.”
Natasha clicked on the television and flipped to the station we liked to watch.
After the commercial, the anchor opened the newscast: “We have a lot to tell you about tonight, so we’re going to start with breaking news.”
“They must have made an arrest in your case,” Natasha said to my mother.
“No.” She sat up straighter but didn’t flinch. “I would have been notified by the chief of detectives if that had happened.”
One thing about my mom—she hated to be the last to know.
“You can see that our reporter is on the front steps of the American Museum of Natural History,” the anchor said.
I twisted onto my side to stare at the screen. My mother, on the other hand, relaxed and kept rubbing my legs. The newsman was standing beneath the huge statue of Theodore Roosevelt on horseback. He was so close to the horse’s hooves I thought he might get kicked in the head if he didn’t hurry up and get to the point.
“Those Roosevelts are everywhere,” I said.
“Ssssssh.” Natasha was into the moment.
“I’m standing at the entrance to the American Museum of Natural History—one of New York’s most iconic institutions, visited by more than five million people every year—where the museum’s president just made a startling announcement.”
The cameraman panned the historic facade of the museum, to increase the dramatic effect of the announcement.
“I hope he isn’t going to blow the surprise about Katie’s birthday party,” I said.
“Not what I’d call breaking news,” Natasha said, reaching back to poke my leg.
“Not he, darling,” my mother said. “Ms. Sutton is the first woman president of your favorite museum.”
“Like you!” I said.
My mother laughed. “Like me, Dev. Only smarter. Wicked smart, as the Boston Quicks would say.”
The engraving over the entrance was strong but simple: TRUTH. KNOWLEDGE. VISION.
“Earlier tonight,” the newsman said, “President Sutton stood on these steps with several scientists to announce the findings that support the probable existence of an entirely new species of dinosaurs, unknown to paleontologists until the discovery less than one week ago in the Badlands of Montana.”
I was on my feet, digging into the cushions to find my phone to call Katie.
“Mom!” I was so excited I could barely catch my breath. “Mom! This could be the crested duckbill Steve was looking for. And Katie’s clutch of eggs might be the find of the century. She’s going to be so famous!”
“Listen in,” the reporter said, playing a tape of the earlier interview from the museum’s front steps.
President Sutton was at the microphone attached to a temporary podium, surrounded by a group of people whom I recognized immediately.
“That’s Steve Paulson,” I said, kneeling down in front of the screen and pointing at him. “And Chip Donner. And that’s Ling Soo.”
“. . . . and our team of expert paleontologists,” Sutton went on, “will be working with this group, who flew in with their fossils today, so that we can begin the painstaking work of confirming the identity of this ancient animal. It’s quite possible that the bones you are looking at, ladies and gentlemen, are the first feathered dinosaur fossils in the world—the long-sought proof of a firm link between birds and dinosaurs.”
“You didn’t tell us about feathers,” my mother said.
“Katie didn’t find any such thing, Mom. This is all news to me.”
President Sutton gestured to the young woman standing next to Steve. Ling moved closer to the podium.
“This marks an historic partnership in our relationship with the Chinese—forged in the Gobi Desert by one of our founding members a century ago—and revived on a hillside in Montana by this hard-working group of scientists,” Sutton said, “and by the tenacity of a talented graduate student with a very bright future.”
Ling Soo smiled at the camera and nodded her head, mouthing the words “thank you.”
“The great Age of Exploration, celebrated by this museum for more than one hundred and fifty years, continues today, as you see here,” President Sutton said. “We’ll do the work to authenticate this unique find, and then invite you all to come back to the museum to see this ‘terrible lizard,’ which Ms. Soo will have the privilege of naming.”
“LING SOO!”
“Stop screaming, Dev. The neighbors might call 911,” my mother said.
“But it was Katie’s big discovery,” I said.
“Apparently, there was something even bigger that happened after you two left the dig. You and Katie will have to deal with this. I’m sure it’s disappointing, but it doesn’t take a single thing away from Katie’s clutch.”
“I’m telling you, Mom. There’s something wrong with this picture,” I said. “Ling was really jealous when Katie found her nest. I sort of got the feeling that she didn’t want Katie to succeed at all. She didn’t want Katie to get credit for anything.”
“You’re being too harsh on this young woman, Dev. I’m sure Katie’s eggs will be an essential part of confirming and proving Ling’s discovery.”
“I hope so,” I said. “There’s something way too mysterious about this turn of events.”
“What do you mean?” Natasha asked.
“I can’t put my finger on it yet,” I said, trying to order the jumble of ideas racing through my brain. “No comment.”
I thought of Katie and her switched bones the first night at the dig, then the tire tracks of the trespassers, and then her monumental discovery—just before we left town. I had a bad feeling about things.
“Dev?” my mother said. “Devlin Quick?”
Using my full name came first. The finger wagging was sure to follow.
“Let sleeping dinos lie, okay?” Mom was shaking her forefinger at me.
My phone was ringing. I reached between the cushions to retrieve it.
“Sure thing, Commissioner,” I said to my mother heading into my bedroom to answer the call. “I read you loud and clear.”
15
“Soo-saurus?” Katie said. “It just doesn’t have the same ring as the Cionosaurus katus.”
“The name isn’t the important part,” I said, closing the door to my room. “I’m beginning to think you were right.”
“About what?”
“First of all, remember how upset you got the first night, when you thought that Chip Donner had swapped out your little bones?”
“I told you so.”
“I hope you’ll lose that expression soon, Katie. It’s really an under-eight kind of thing to say.”
“Saint Augustine’s opinion?”
“Nope,” I said. “My grandmother’s. But then there’s the way Ling was a weeny bit too edgy when you found the clutch. She was all about wishing she had made the discovery herself.”
“But, Dev, Ling even said it was the best thing anybody could find in a dig—unhatched dinosaur eggs.”
“Yes,” I said, climbing up on top of my comforter and opening my iPad with my other hand. “Then she goes ahead and the very next day she’s the one who finds something even better.”
“It’s a bummer,” Katie said. “I’m so glad I didn’t waste time writing a paper about it. Looks like my precious Ditch will get buried by Ling’s feathered friends.”
“Don’t be silly, Katie. Nothing can take away your buried treasure. I’m sure they can’t prove anything without the eggs.”
Katie was
quiet for a moment. “You’re a real friend, Dev. Thanks for saying that.”
“Even my mom thinks that’s true”
“Do you think Ling will keep her word? Let us visit her at the museum? I do want to see the fossils she found.”
“Good idea, Katie. I’ll text her, now that we know she’s in New York.”
“We could drop in on her tomorrow.”
“I can’t do that,” I said. “I mean, I’m busy all day.”
I had promised Mrs. Cion that I would keep Katie away from the museum until Saturday night’s party. Her mother didn’t want her to see any of the brand-new exhibitions that had just opened before we got our private tour for the birthday party. Not that I’d even thought for a second that Katie would want to go there this week. I figured she’d be busy locket-shopping.
“Doing what?”
“Um—Booker,” I said, trying to think of an excuse. “Booker wants me to go to—um—to the Statue of Liberty with him.”
“He does?” Katie asked. “You’ve both been there a dozen times.”
“I know. I’m trying to talk him out of it. I’ll let you know if our plans change,” I said. “Meanwhile, have you talked to Kyle?”
“About the tractor?”
“Yeah. And about Chip’s real name.”
“I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”
“That’s your assignment, Katie. Stay on it, okay?”
We said good night and then I texted Booker. “You up? Too late to call?”
Less than a minute later, Booker Dibble phoned me. “’Sup, Dev?”
“Hey, Booker. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Hanging out with some of my friends from Hunter. Why?”
“You’ll have all the school year to do that,” I said. “I’m thinking of doing some investigative work.”
“I’ve already got a gold shield, Dev,” he said to me. “What more does a guy want?”
“I think Katie needs a save.”
“You told me all about finding her clutch. She should be sitting on top of the world.”
“She was, Booker,” I said. “But somebody just knocked her off. Humpty Dumpty and all that. You and I have to put her back together again.”
I told him the update of the story I’d given him earlier in the week.
“What do you want to do about it?” he asked.
“I thought we could go over to the museum tomorrow and look for Ling. I have a lot of questions I want to ask her. I can’t take Katie with me because it would spoil the whole surprise that Mrs. Cion is trying to pull off.”
“Do you know for sure that Ling will be there?”
“Nope. But all the fossils from the dig—and Katie’s clutch—are there. I heard the museum president say so on the news just a few minutes ago.”
“Nobody’s going to give two kids access to those old bones, Dev.”
“Everybody trusts you, Booker. You’ve got ‘reliability’ written all across your face,” I said. “That’s why I like to have you on my side of things.”
My compliment was met with silence.
“At least we could scope the place out before Saturday night, Booker. The truth is that because Katie found her fossils on private property, they actually belong to her. Mrs. Cion told my mom that Katie’s dad called the ranch owner, who was happy to let her have them. That’s going to be one of her birthday surprises,” I said. “So if Katie asked for them back from the museum, they would have to let her have them.”
“Are you pulling a waggles?” Booker asked.
“No, sir. No lie at all. Not even a fiblet.”
“So you have a plan to get some of the bones back?”
“I can’t say it’s come together as a formulated plan,” I said. “But I’ll sleep on it.”
“What would you do with a fossil, Dev?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. It was always cool to test one of my theories on a sympathetic sleuth. “I was figuring I could get my mom to have it analyzed at the DNA lab.”
Booker laughed. “Let me guess, Dev. You haven’t asked her to do that yet, right?”
“Baby steps, Booker. No point asking before the bones are in reach.”
“And what exactly will the DNA tests tell you?”
I didn’t have an answer for that one, either. I was hoping the paleontologists would give me a good reason. Probable cause is what my mother would want, to get the city’s DNA lab involved. It was a legal term that was worse than “someday” or “maybe.”
“We might find out who had their mitts on the fossils,” I said.
“That’s what fingerprints are for.”
“DNA is more reliable than that, Booker.”
“Well—but—”
“Katie’s prints might have been on the bones the first night. But then when she passed them along to other people, their own fingerprints would cover up most traces of hers.”
“And DNA?” Booker asked.
“A person’s DNA can be on an object like a bone because our skin cells come off—they rub off onto things we touch. And no matter how many other people touch the same thing after we do, there’s a good chance that our DNA—just a tiny fragment of it—will still show up.”
“Trace evidence,” he said. “We learned about it in biology last year.”
“So I’m thinking of getting to the museum about one o’clock tomorrow afternoon, Booker. What do you say about that?”
I couldn’t see Booker’s face, of course, but I knew he was smiling.
“Game on, Devlin Quick. Game on.”
16
“I may not be able to sleep at all tomorrow night,” I said, talking to Booker as we walked through the great hall of North American mammals on the first floor of the museum.
“Why not?”
“Just in case these animals in the dioramas come to life. It reminds me of being in a tent in Montana.”
We passed glass display case after glass display case—grizzly bears, mountain lions, panthers, moose, and elk—all real animals that had once been alive, displayed against scenery that resembled their natural habitat.
“You want me to bring a bow and arrow to the party?” Booker asked.
“Only if you think the smell of Natasha’s cupcakes will bring them out of their long slumber.”
“You’re safe. The cupcakes will be eaten by us by the time those animals break out of their cases. Besides, that only happens in the movies,” he said. “Did you text Ling to say you were coming?”
“No. I kind of like the element of surprise. Sam says it’s a real advantage for detectives.”
“Where to, then?” Booker asked.
When we entered the museum, we had each picked up one of the floor plans. We turned into a stairwell and I spread my map out across a broad step.
“Aren’t most of the dinosaurs on the fourth floor? On top?” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Well, if we start there, I’m sure someone can direct us to the lab,” I said. “Elevators?”
“Too slow,” Booker said. “Start climbing.”
Every schoolkid in New York—and just about every tourist—considered the natural history museum a required stop. Almost everything I knew about animals and birds; origins of Native American, African, and Pacific peoples; sources of gems, minerals, and meteorites, I learned within these massive walls.
“You know what my mom told me this morning?” I asked. “That this museum is actually a whole bunch of different buildings, built at all different times.”
Booker was taller than I was by half a head. He was taking the steps two at a time, and I imagined I could hear Katie, yelling at us to slow down. He was African American—and had once pointed out to me, when I was maybe five or six, that our ancestors occupied different “halls�
� in this vast museum.
“You told Aunt Blaine that we were coming here?” Booker asked.
His mother and mine had been college roommates—best friends since the age of eighteen—so we called them “aunts” even though we weren’t related.
“I did.”
Booker stopped on the landing and looked down at me. “She was okay with it?”
“Somebody has to pick out a place for us to sleep at Katie’s party, right? Under the humongous blue whale, or in the room with the T. rex? I told Mrs. Cion I’d help with the choices she has,” I said. “My mom was fine with my doing that.”
“It works for me,” Booker said. “What was her point about all these buildings?”
“You know how big this place is, when you stand at the entrance on Central Park West, where Roosevelt’s statue is? Well, that wasn’t even the first part that was built.”
“No way.”
“You can see that the bricks are different,” I said. “The original entrance from the eighteen seventies was on Seventy-Seventh Street. So even though these buildings connect in the great hallways where all the exhibits are, when you go into the basements, each one of them is a dead end. Twenty-eight separate structures, with every kind of dead animal in each one of them.”
“I’ve had enough of basements,” Booker said, pointing above us to the next flight. “We’re going upward this time.”
I knew, when he said no basements, that he was thinking about our last case.
“I just thought it was interesting,” I said.
“Creepy things always interest you, Dev.”
I poked my head out of the stairwell when we reached the third floor. There were endless cabinets of birds on display, and beyond them were the exhibits of primates, reptiles, and amphibians.
We reached the fourth-floor landing and snapped our fingers, smiling at our touchdown. We’d reached dino headquarters—practically an entire floor, covering several city blocks, where all the remains of the ancient fossils were gathered.
No matter how many times I visited the museum, it excited me as much as it did the first time I went. The scientists’ knowledge expanded and evolved, the exhibits were updated and remounted, and the excitement of seeing something for the first time never got old.
Digging For Trouble Page 10
