“It has to be one of these houses.”
“Pe-arl!” Renée calls. “Pe-arl!”
Someone cackles back. “I’ve got you and your little dog, too.”
Ping barks so hard his body jumps. Pong gives a menacing growl. At this point I know I should text Dad exactly where we are in case there’s someone really evil living there.
Too late. Mistake two of the day. Pong yanks me forward so hard my cell phone goes flying.
DAY THREE, MISTAKE THREE
That weird, witchy voice cackles again. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” What does she mean? Does she have Pearl?
Raff, raff, raff! Ping’s bark turns hoarse as he drags us toward a house with a tall hedge. The voice becomes louder; it’s coming from behind the hedge.
Mistakes don’t have to be permanent. I pick up my cell phone to correct mistake two. I’m going to text Dad. Except … I watch the screen light up and then go dark … forgot to charge it last night. A new mistake. Drat. “Can you text my dad for me?” I ask Renée.
She nods. “Hold Ping.” She passes me the leash, takes her cell phone out, and reads out the message as she types. “We are at 2461 Melissa Street. Investigating.” She turns to me. “Done.”
Not sure what Dad will make of that message. It could be a mistake, but I’ll worry about that later. For now, we continue around the hedge to the walkway: Renée, the dogs, and me. For this moment, I take a breath and feel brave.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” That strange voice from last night squawks again.
Someone giggles.
“Pearl?” I call.
What I see next blows my mind.
Pearl sits on the front step, a large, white bird on her shoulder. Next to her, on the same step, sits a real live pirate. His head, covered by a red scarf, hangs down on his chest. One of his arms ends with a hook. The pirate lifts his head and grins at me. “You know this young lady? Thank goodness, I was about to call the police.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in.
Ping rushes to Pearl and yells at the bird. Raff, raff, raff, raff!
The pirate opens his eyes again. He breathes out in a hiss.
Squawk, squawk, squawk! The bird yells back.
“Pearl, you have a cockatiel sitting on you,” I tell her over the barking. I am the captain of obvious.
She turns to look at the bird and smiles. “He’s a scalliwag.”
“Well, get him off if he can’t behave!” I say.
“Scalliwag is his name; he’s a great bird,” the pirate grumbles. “Can you get your dog to behave?”
Renée scoops Ping up and circles his snout with a thumb and a finger. His barking turns into a rumble.
Pong sits down in front of Pearl, staring at the cockatiel as though daring him to move. “Everybody is looking for you, Pearl!” Renée says.
Pearl frowns and pouts. “But I’m right here!” Her eyebrows gather in pale clouds over her husky-dog eyes.
The pirate breathes loudly. He looks panicky. “Can you call her parents? So they don’t worry? She didn’t know her number.”
Renée’s phone plays a couple of notes.
“Too late. They’ve been looking all over the neighbourhood for her,” I tell him as she checks it. “My dad’s texting.”
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” The pirate waves his hook and hand in front of his face frantically, like he’s trying to get more air.
Renée holds out the cell so I can read the text from Dad.
You okay?
“Mind if I answer?”
Renée hands me her cell and I type in: We found Pearl @2461 Melissa.
Dad texts back. What a relief! Will tell Mrs. Lebel.
“Done,” I say to the pirate. “My dad will let her mother know where she is.”
The pirate’s skin looks pale. He doesn’t answer, just keeps breathing noisily.
“He’s hyperventilating,” Renée says. “Quick, give me a paper bag.”
“I don’t carry paper bags.” I rip off a doggie poop bag from the roll. “Here, take this.”
Renée fingers the plastic, trying to open it.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” The pirate’s hook lies across his chest. “Just give me a second. I’ll catch my breath.”
“Brawk. Pretty bird. Pretty bird.”
The pirate’s chest sinks. “Getting better.” He pushes back the poop bag. “I don’t need to breathe into that.” He takes a long, slow breath … “I’m Pete” … and releases it … “the party pirate. Scalliwag and I entertained at Pearl’s cousin’s birthday. Today she decided to visit me and, and … I just didn’t know what to do!”
“Yeah, I’m visiting!” Pearl repeats.
My eyes roll. I can’t help it. “Yeah, but you’re not supposed to leave the house on your own!”
Renée’s phone plays a note. “Your dad.” She passes it over again.
I read the text out loud. “‘Mrs. Lebel will be right there.’”
“But I don’t want to go,” Pearl says. “I’m helping Pirate Pete.”
“With what?” Renée snaps.
“We were just practising a song when Pearl came along.”
Pearl starts on her own: “Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the water spout …” Scalliwag shifts from side to side on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s show them, Pirate Pete.”
The pirate joins in softly at first, in a deep voice. “Down came the rain” — the bird nods to the music — “and washed the spider out.” The pirate sings louder now, like an opera singer. Scalliwag’s head feathers lift up and spread out.
Suddenly, Pong opens his snout and gives out an arroo-ooo-oo!
Renée sings with them. “Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.” The bird’s head bobs hard. Arrroo-ooo-oo! Pong adds.
Shuffling closer to Pearl, I join in, too. Scalliwag shifts from side to side. He is rocking out! “So the Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the spout again.”
We sing another round. Ping yaps a couple of notes. Scalliwag loves it; the pirate looks like he’s breathing better, too. Arroo-roo! I’ve never heard Pong do so much talking before. At the end, we are all smiling.
The bird suddenly squawks, “Get lost, kids!”
Now we know for sure who made those strange sounds last night.
“That’s not your cue, Scalliwag!” Pirate Pete says. “Only when I say, ‘Goodbye everyone.’”
“And your little dog, too, your little dog, too. Brawk!”
Pirate Pete sighs. “His favourite movie is The Wizard of Oz.”
Raff, raff! Ping barks back. Renée grabs hold of his snout again.
Pirate Pete takes another deep breath. “I’m feeling so much better. I’ll text my new assistant. Let him know I’m on my way.”
“Let me guess, Attila?” Renée asks.
“Yes! Unusual name. How did you know?”
Exactly what I always wonder. How does Renée know so much about everything?
“He’s my brother and he has a pirate costume in his cupboard. With a fake parrot on the shoulder.”
“Fake is better than nothing. Good bird or not, I can’t let him handle Scalliwag too much. Not with a crowd of children.”
“So, you are the entertainment for the library party?” I ask.
“Yes. The Halloween party pirate, as it were.”
Renée’s head turns sideways and her eyes squint. “Did you happen to pick up a pink diamond in Brant Hills Park?”
Mistake three of the day? Asking a criminal about a theft before backup has arrived? Or is she doing it for shock value?
I watch the pirate’s face. Study his eyes, which are a treasure-coin gold. I see nothing. No shift, no twitch.
“Nope. I never walk there.”
But he had to be walking close by. Pearl said she visited a pirate when she ran out on reading buddies the other day.
No curl of his lips. Plenty calm now. This pirate is either innocent or a good liar.
Through Renée’s fingers, Ping gro
wls.
A car screeches to a stop in front of the walk and Mrs. Lebel jumps out. “Purrrrrrr-al!” she calls.
“We’re over here,” Renée answers and waves. “Don’t worry! Pearl is fine.”
Mrs. Lebel runs up the walk, scolding, “How many times have I told you not to wander off on your own?”
“I always knew where I was,” Pearl complains.
“Well, I did not, young lady,” her mom says.
“Sorry.” The pirate sounds breathy again. “If she would have told me her number, I would have called immediately.” He turns to Pearl. “I’ll take Scalliwag.” He reaches his hand to her shoulder and the bird hops on. “You better get along now.”
“Get lost, kid. And your little dog, too.”
“Shush, Scalliwag. Sorry, that was one of his cues.”
Raff! Raff! Raff!
“That’s okay. Don’t listen to him, Ping. Good boy. Nice work, Pong.” Yes. I smile. Battery fail on my phone was not the mistake of the day. Texting Dad turned out to be the right thing to do. Mrs. Lebel will drive Pearl home. We can return the dogs and get ready for the party. Mistake three, hooks down, belongs to Pearl alone, for running off and scaring everyone like that.
DAY THREE, MISTAKE FOUR
Pearl whines about wanting to walk with us rather than go home with her mom. “Doggie loves me. See?” She crouches down and squeezes her face up to let Ping lick it. “He knew where I was! Look, he wants me to come, too.”
Ping wags wildly; even his butt wags along.
“But you have to get your princess costume on. We have your unicorn horn all ready,” Renée tells her.
“I shouldn’t even let you go to the party after taking off like that,” Mrs. Lebel says.
That draws a pouty lip and a whimper.
“Except, sick as he is, your dad has to work at the Brilliant Diamond Show with me.” Mrs. Lebel snaps her fingers. “I know. Ruby can stay home and watch you.”
“But Pirate Pete needs me!” Pearl wails.
“We were kind of counting on her, too.” I can’t believe I’m pleading for Pearl to come. “We invited August so they can make friends.”
Mrs. Lebel sighs, shakes her head, and then changes her mind. “All right.”
“Yay!” Pearl brightens.
“Only no more dilly-dallying. Come right now, we have to get you dressed!”
We watch and wave as Mrs. Lebel drives away with Pearl.
“We better hurry up,” Renée says. “We need to get our costumes on, too.”
We start to jog but then Ping stops for a barkathon. Raff, raff, raff. His barking builds so that his body jolts and jitters along with it. Raff, raff, raff. Pong moves slower, head low, in hunter pose.
Up ahead, I see the reason for it. A masked man with a baseball cap dashes from a house. The mask covers his mouth and nose and makes him look like a doctor. All he needs is a gigantic needle. Scary.
“Hey you!” Renée calls.
What? Does she have a death wish?
He stops, tugs at his cap, and turns to face us. Only his eyes show, but they’re dark and familiar, crinkled up as part of a smile. Would they look that happy if we had caught him in the middle of a home invasion?
He pulls down the mask from his face so it hangs under his chin. “Hey, kids!” He slaps his hands against his pants and greyish powder puffs from them. “Dusty work, drywall.” It’s Harry.
“Hi, Mr. Diamond,” I call as we head toward him.
“What’s your hurry?” Renée squints at him.
“Need to get cleaned up for a date. Going to the Brilliant Diamond Show with my honey.”
“You taking Salma?” she asks. “Are you back together again?”
“Yup. Hoping to trade diamond rings today for something new.”
“She doesn’t like the old ring?”
“She did but she thinks we need to trade up to get something luckier. By the way, how’s that kid who locked herself up? Did she find her show-and-tell ring?”
How does he know about the pink diamond? We never told him.
“Not yet.” Renée narrows her eyes. “Hasn’t told her parents, either.”
“And they’re supposed to be displaying it at the Brilliant Diamond Show this afternoon,” I add, watching his face.
“Oh, they can show pink glass. No one will know the difference,” Harry says. “See you later.” He climbs into his van and drives away, a little too fast, as always.
They can show pink glass? Really? I wonder about Harry. How much does he know about gems? Maybe naming his company Diamond Drywall wasn’t just about alliteration.
“You think it’s him, don’t you?” Renée asks as we head back toward the Bennetts’.
“Maybe. He dropped his business card on the Lebels’ floor. He could have found the pink diamond ring there.”
Ping and Pong trot along much slower, sensing we’re on the homebound lap. Both take turns marking their favourite tree.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“Well, Pearl said a pirate had it. Nothing pirate-y about Mr. Diamond.”
“I don’t know, does he download movies illegally from the internet?” I ask.
“Yeah, like a five-year-old would know about that kind of pirate,” Renée says.
“Ya’ never know with Pearl,” I say. At the Bennetts’ house now, I key in their code and we drag Ping and Pong into the house. I check their water dishes and then we turn for the door.
Ping actually grips onto Renée’s pant leg with his teeth and drags along behind her all the way to the door. Renée turns and holds up a finger. “Stay!”
Ping lets go and sits, staring at her finger, complaining. Rouw, rouw, rouw, rouw.
“Quick, let’s go,” she says, and we rush outside and slam the door. “Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t look. Ohhhhh! You looked!”
Pong stands at the window, wagging. Ping bounces.
Renée drags me by the arm. We run for a block.
“Maybe Mr. Rogers found the diamond ring at school,” I say when we make it back to Renée’s house.
“Yeah, could be,” Renée agrees. “You can find treasure in the lost and found; he said so himself. It’s like it’s his personal chest.”
“What about Pirate Pete?” I ask. “He doesn’t seem all that comfortable around kids. If that pink diamond ring somehow made its way to him, he could give up all those parties.”
“Pearl likes him. She wouldn’t even tell if he had it,” Renée says. “Are there any pirates we’ve missed?”
Loaded question. I can feel smoke coming out of my ears as my face steams red. Your brother, I think, but I cover my mouth to keep the words from blurting out. Then I think for a moment. “What if Pearl hadn’t said it was a pirate who has the diamond? What if she was just ‘imagining’?” I air quote the word. “It could be anybody in the neighbourhood.”
“Mrs. Klein vacuumed at the Lebels’ just the day before.”
“She’s so nice, though,” I say. “She wouldn’t pick up a ring in someone else’s house and keep it.”
“If you had to clean houses, wouldn’t you want some quick way out?” Renée asks. “Besides, no one put posters up about the lost diamond. Anybody could have found it and decided ‘finders, keepers.’”
“Or ‘finders, sellers’ and then they can try to get some money for it at the show,” I say. “The Lebels will know their diamond, though.”
“For sure, the Lebels will realize it’s missing.”
“So, it will all come to a head,” I say.
Renée nods. “We should find the culprit at the Brilliant Diamond Show.”
“I wish Pearl would tell her parents about losing the ring, though.” We arrive at Renée’s house now and see Attila’s SUV in the driveway. “Keeping that a secret has to be a big mistake.” Number four. “Wait till they go to get the diamond from the jewellery box. They will freak.”
“We’ll see!” Renée opens the door and drags out the bag of c
ostume bits from the front closet. She scrambles among the shoes and pulls out some tall black boots. “Mo-om!”
Mrs. Kobai sticks her head out the dining room. “Yes?”
“Can I borrow these for my Storm costume?”
“You are not spraying sparkle paint on my boots like you did with my hat, are you?”
“For a Storm costume? Seriously, Mom.”
With Renée’s attraction to bling, I would be nervous about the sparkle thing, too.
DAY THREE, MISTAKE FIVE
The door from the basement opens and Pirate Attila steps out. On his face, a gaping wound oozes blood. It’s so realistic it makes me woozy.
“Oh, great, you’re here,” Star calls. “Put your costumes on. I’m ready to do your makeup next.”
No, no, no! “No makeup, please,” I say quietly, even though I scream it in my head. I head for the bathroom and put on the canary-yellow tights and turtleneck.
“Stuff in the padding along the top of your legs. And your arms!” Star calls through the door. “You’re too skinny.”
Someone knocks. “Open up,” Renée says. “I have my dad’s blue Speedo. You can wear it on top of the tights.”
Her dad’s Speedo. Just because her dad isn’t such a big yeti anymore doesn’t mean I want to wear his personal articles of clothing. When I step out, Star pinches me as she shifts my padding to look more like muscles.
“I bought a yellow bathing cap at the thrift store and glued on some blue eye-wings,” Star says.
“Thanks, it looks great!” I answer, stalling for time.
“I also have some blue duct tape to make the Wolverine shoulder thingies.” Star holds the roll and cap in her hand, waiting for me.
“Here’s the Speedo.” Renée pushes a scrap of stretchy blue material at me. She grins at it. “The pièce de résistance. Just slip it on.”
She’s so happy with it, I have to take it. Surprising how tiny Mr. Kobai’s bathing suit is. It’s a pièce, all right. I step back into the bathroom. No slipping into it, though. Plenty of résistance. I pull and tug it over the muscle bulges of stuffing on my legs. Finally, I have it all the way on. I step back to see what it looks like. That tiny blue brief of blue does cut down on the yellowness of the whole outfit.
The Diamond Mistake Mystery Page 11
