The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar

by Martha Freeman

  “But Hooligan likes to sleep in!” Tessa protested.

  Mr. Mormora shook his head. “No, no, no! Regular hours and regular habits. This is the way of the Canine Class.”

  This is also the way of Aunt Jen. No wonder she had invited Mr. Mormora. “Because of the early start,” she said, “Mr. Mormora is staying with us in the White House. He’ll be joining us for dinner this evening, too.”

  “Downstairs?” asked Tessa. “Sweet!”

  Most nights we eat with the family in the second-floor dining room next to our own kitchen. Getting to eat downstairs is a treat.

  Mr. Mormora put his hand over his heart. “I came to this country as a young child. For my first job, I cleaned dog kennels. It is beyond my dreams to be a guest in the White House.”

  I looked around. We were standing in the center hall on the ground floor. It has cream-colored, arched ceilings, statues of the heads of important dead people, and paintings of kind, smiling first ladies. Now that my family has lived here a few months, I am getting used to the whole White House deal. But Mr. Mormora reminded me it’s special.

  Mr. Bryant looked at his watch. “Would you mind taking Hooligan back upstairs, girls? I have an engagement this evening.”

  I took Hooligan’s leash and said, “see you at dinner,” to Aunt Jen and Mr. Mormora. Then Tessa and I started back upstairs. On the way, Tessa asked, “What’s engagement?”

  “Date,” I said.

  Tessa looked confused. “Isn’t Mr. Bryant too old for that stuff?”

  Sometimes it’s my job to educate my sister. “There’s lotsa kinds of dates, Tessa. I bet it’s only with his daughter—the grown-up one who’s always broke.”

  Back upstairs, we saw there was still time before dinner, so we decided to study Hooligan’s collar for clues. The diamonds that were left were each attached with eight silver prongs. Looking closely, we saw four of the prongs for the missing diamond were bent back, and the other four had broken.

  “I don’t think there’s any mystery, Tessa,” I said. “I think Hooligan caught his collar on a bush when he was running yesterday, and the diamond got yanked off.”

  Tessa looked at me and sighed. “Well, that would be disappointing.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DINNER was pink fish with green-speckled sauce. Mom was delayed—this happens a lot—and Granny had gone out. So it was Dad, Ms. Kootoor, Mr. Mormora, Aunt Jen, Nate, Tessa and me around the table. Tessa, Aunt Jen and Ms. Kootoor talked about fashion. Ms. Kootoor owns this big plaid purse with buckles that to me looks like a big plaid purse with buckles. But according to Tessa and Aunt Jen, it’s a Blueberry Bag, and that makes it just about the coolest thing ever. Tessa’s Fashionista Barbie even has a teeny tiny one of her own.

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “If it’s a ‘Blueberry Bag,’ why is it plaid?”

  “Blueberry is the designer label,” said Ms. Kootoor.

  “Oh,” I said. “And it’s special because . . .?”

  Ms. Kootoor gave me a look like I was crazy. “The style!”

  Tessa leaned toward me and whispered, “Also, it cost a ton.”

  For dessert we had strawberries with lemon ice. That’s what we were eating when Mom finally came in. She was dressed in her Madam President clothes—blue skirt and jacket, stockings and high heels. She looked tired. After kissing Dad on the cheek, she turned to Mr. Mormora. “A pleasure to meet you.” She gave him her hand. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here earlier, but there’s a senator behaving badly, and then that typhoon in Asia . . .”

  Mr. Mormora shook his head. “Sometimes I am glad all I must worry about are dogs.”

  “Helping people and pets live in harmony is important,” said Mom.

  “We could use a little more harmony around here,” said Aunt Jen.

  “My methods are very effective,” said Mr. Mormora. Then he told us about some dogs he had met, like a Rottweiler that dug up flowers but only red petunias, and a poodle that ate whole rolls of toilet paper.

  Honestly? None of them sounded as bad . . . I mean as full of energy . . . as Hooligan.

  “I, for one, like Hooligan the way he is,” said Ms. Kootoor.

  “Oh, please do not mistake me,” said Mr. Mormora. “I like all dogs. That is . . . all dogs except one.”

  “Which one?” Tessa asked.

  Mr. Mormora frowned. “A certain Pekingese dog of my unlucky acquaintance.”

  “I only ever heard of one Pekingese dog,” said Tessa, “the one who sent Hooligan his diamond dog collar, Empress Pu-Chi.”

  Mr. Mormora dropped his spoon. “But this is the dog to whom I refer!”

  “She’s not like a close personal friend,” I said quickly. “We never even met her.”

  “Still, the collar is cool,” said Tessa. “And guess what?” She paused dramatically. “One of the diamonds is missing!”

  Tessa was hoping for a big reaction.

  But she didn’t get it.

  Ms. Kootoor took a dainty bite of dessert. “They’re only rhinestones, I believe?”

  “A rhinestone is the same as a diamond fac-si-mi-le,” said Nate.

  “But what if they’re not?” said Tessa. “What if there’s a diamond thief loose right here in the White House?”

  For a second we all looked around, like, Which one’s the thief?

  Then Aunt Jen laughed. “I think someone’s imagination is running away with her. But tell us, Mr. Mormora, how do you know this Empress Pu-Chi?”

  “I have family in that nearby nation,” he said. “And a few years ago I was hired to train the animal. The training did not, shall we say, go well.”

  “Are Pekingese generally difficult?” Dad asked.

  Mr. Mormora shook his head. “It is not the breed but only this particular dog. She is very spoiled.” Mr. Mormora turned to Mom. “What do you think, Madam President, of Manfred Alfredo-Chin’s leadership?”

  Mom smiled at Mr. Mormora, took a sip of coffee, then set down the cup. “I’m so sorry. I have a briefing that begins”—she looked at her watch—“five minutes ago. So if you’ll excuse me. . . .”

  “Mo-o-o-om!?” Tessa whined. “Don’t go! What about Monopoly?”

  Friday night Monopoly is a tradition in our family. But sometimes Mom’s too busy. “You don’t need me tonight,” Mom said. “You’ve got plenty of players! Later I’ll be up to give you a kiss.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MS. KOOTOOR took Mom’s place at Monopoly, and you never saw anyone go bankrupt so fast! Only a half hour into the game, she landed on Boardwalk and couldn’t pay the rent.

  We were up in the Solarium, which is like our family room. It’s on the third floor, and, at night when the monuments on the Mall are lit, the view is beautiful. Besides me and Ms. Kootoor, Tessa, Dad and Nate were playing. Mr. Mormora was preparing for his class in the morning. Aunt Jen doesn’t like games.

  When Nate won, he punched the air. “Loser puts the game away! Loser puts the game away!”

  Ms. Kootoor raised her hand. “That would be me.”

  Nate looked embarrassed. “Oh . . . but you don’t count.”

  “Because you’re a guest,” Tessa said. “Anyway, Cammie doesn’t mind.”

  I said, “Me?!”

  Ms. Kootoor shook her head. “No, no, Cameron. Let me. I lost fair and square.”

  Granny came in while Ms. Kootoor was collecting the pieces.

  “Past your bedtime, isn’t it, Judge?” Dad said.

  Granny laughed. “I’m wide awake! Must be that splash of coffee late in the day.”

  “Maybe some news will lull you to sleep,” Dad said. He punched the remote . . . and you’ll never guess what picture came on the screen: a big, fat diamond!

  Tessa squealed.

  “. . . missing from the National Museum of a certain nearby nation, Jan. Officials are calling the sixty-karat stone known as El Brillante an ‘irreplaceable national treasure.’ ” It was Larry who was talking. He and pretty, blonde Jan do the lo
cal news we always watch.

  Now there was a close-up of Jan, who looked concerned. “And the gem was kept in a sealed vault, Larry?”

  “Locked up tight, Jan.” Larry looked concerned, too. “The theft was discovered this morning, but authorities say it’s possible the diamond had been missing for as long as a month.”

  Tessa said, “See! I told you a diamond was missing!”

  Nate said, “Earth to Tessa. Different diamond.”

  Tessa shook her head. “But it’s the exact same nearby nation! There’s gotta be a connection.”

  “I don’t see how,” Dad said. “El Brillante is one of the largest diamonds in the world. Even if Hooligan’s was real—by comparison, it’s puny.”

  Tessa was offended. “Puny?”

  “And besides,” Dad said. “That diamond was missing from a vault a thousand miles away. The fake stone is missing from Hooligan’s collar.”

  Behind me, Granny cleared her throat. “If anyone is interested,” she said, “I think Tessa has a point.”

  Before she was a judge, Granny was a police officer, so she is the only one in the family with actual crime-fighting experience. Dad, Nate and Ms. Kootoor tried to argue with her, but she wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s like I told the girls last time they were detecting,” she said. “Something illogical just might be a clue. This time, the incidents may seem unrelated, but happening together like that? An unlikely coincidence.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHEN Mom came in to say good night, she was wearing an old gray Stanford hoodie and pink plaid pajama bottoms.

  Tessa groaned. “Mo-o-o-om! I don’t get how you and Ms. Kootoor ever even got to be friends. She is so stylish! Like that Blueberry Bag—”

  “What’s a Blueberry Bag?” Mom asked.

  I put my hands over my ears. “If I hear ‘Blueberry Bag’ one more time, I will scream.”

  Tessa shrugged. “We can talk about diamonds instead. Did you hear one is missing from a certain nearby nation, Mom? It’s called El Brillante! And you wanna know what I think?”

  Mom nodded and yawned. “Uh-huh, muffin. What do you think?”

  “It’s got something to do with the diamond missing from Hooligan’s collar!”

  “Uh-huh,” said Mom. “Interesting.”

  “You should tell the FBI that, Mom. They will want to know,” said Tessa.

  “Uh . . . okay. But first, let’s see what develops,” Mom said.

  Tessa crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, if that’s your attitude, then me and Cammie will investigate ourselves.”

  “Cammie and I,” said Mom.

  “Great!” said Tessa. “We could definitely use your help.”

  “Oh, dear, muffin, I didn’t mean . . .” Mom tried to tell Tessa she was only correcting her English.

  But Tessa wasn’t listening. She was too busy planning our investigation. “First, we interview witnesses,” she said. “I know—how about President Manfred Alfredo-Chin? One thing I want to know is who really wrote the letter from Empress Pu-Chi. Is he sure those diamonds on the collar aren’t real? After that—”

  “Muffin?” Mom interrupted. “It really wouldn’t do for you to phone the president of another country and ask questions. The secretary of state would have a fit. But I do have an idea. If you’re interested in diamonds, one of the most famous in the world is right here at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. It’s called the Hope Diamond. What if you and your sister and Nate go see it this week? It’s not a trip to California, but at least it’s a project.”

  “Can you come with us?” Tessa asked.

  Mom hesitated. When she used to be a plain old senator from California, we could do regular things like go to the mall or the zoo. Now that she’s president, there has to be loads of security anytime anyone in the family goes anyplace—even school. For Mom, if she even takes a walk, they shut down streets and surround her with officers and motorcycles.

  I bet she wanted to come with us, but the hassle would never be worth it. “I’m sorry, girls,” she said. “But Granny would love to go.”

  Tessa rubbed her eyes and sniffed like she was going to cry, but really she was just being dramatic. I know because as soon as Mom kissed us, said good night and closed the door, she was totally fine again. “Cammie?” she whispered. “You agree with me about the missing diamond, right?”

  “Wrong,” I said.

  “Oh,” said Tessa. “Well, okay. But you’ll still help me investigate?”

  “I guess,” I said.

  “Because you don’t have anything better to do?”

  “Right,” I said. And I closed my eyes. And I know this sounds weird, but I think I heard my little sister smiling.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE next morning arrived with Granny at seven a.m. “Rise and shine, girls! Canine Class today!”

  Tessa pulled up the covers and grumbled, “I already know ‘sit’ and ‘stay.’ ”

  “Me, too. I can even roll over.” I demonstrated.

  Granny laughed but there’s never any point in arguing with her. Ten minutes later we were dressed and brushed and ready to name the canary. He lives in a cage in our family’s kitchen and belongs to Granny, but she won’t tell us where he came from.

  It’s a minor mystery.

  That day it was Tessa’s turn, and she tried “Sunny.”

  “Because he’s yellow,” she explained.

  “Boring.” I said.

  “I have to agree,” Granny said. “Nate’s turn tomorrow—if he gets up in time.”

  So far, my cousin still hadn’t come down from his bedroom on the third floor. No surprise. He may know everything, but he’s so lazy he’s always missing breakfast.

  Tessa and I sat down at the table. I barely had my napkin in my lap when she crossed her arms over her chest. “We already found something illogical,” she said. “So next we interview witnesses.”

  I shook my head. “Huh?”

  Tessa pointed at the pink baseball cap on her head. “Duh, Cammie!”

  It took a second, but then I got it. The pink cap is what she wears for detecting.

  “You mean two missing diamonds at the same time is illogical,” I said. “But we don’t know for sure that Hooligan’s was even stolen. So what if first we look around and see if we can find it?”

  This was the most obvious idea ever, but Tessa nodded like I had said something smart. “That could work. But where do we look?”

  “Good morning!” Ms. Kootoor was standing in the kitchen doorway. “Here—let me take those.” She took bowls of cereal from Granny and brought them to us at the table. “Did I hear you girls say you’re looking for something?”

  “The diamond!” Tessa said.

  “Ah.” Ms. Kootoor nodded. “And where do you think it might be?”

  I explained about the bent and broken prongs. “We think it came off yesterday when Hooligan was being chased.”

  “So here’s the plan,” said Tessa. “We’ll start looking in the shrubs and trees on the South Lawn—right after Canine Class.”

  A few minutes later, we ran into Mr. Mormora and Aunt Jen’s secretary, Mrs. Crowe, in the Dip Room.

  “Oh my goodness!” said Mr. Mormora when we stepped out under the awning. “The backyard is enormous!”

  Mrs. Crowe laughed. “You haven’t been out to the South Lawn yet?”

  He shook his head. “I have not had the chance. I believe everything has been made ready for us, though?”

  “Follow me,” said Mrs. Crowe.

  The class was going to be held on the grass in the middle of the driveway—the same place the helicopters land.

  To my surprise, Nate was already there waiting.

  And guess who else?

  Puppies!

  Big ones, small ones, all different breeds plus mutts—but here’s the thing: They were all around six months old . . . and Hooligan is two years old! When Mr. Ng brought him out a few minutes later, Hooligan looked big and go
ofy—like a fifth grader repeating kindergarten.

  Hooligan wasn’t embarrassed, though. Dragging Mr. Ng by the leash, he charged right in, bumping the little guys with his nose and rolling them over to get a good sniff. Soon there was a spiderweb of leashes, and Mr. Ng and the rest of the humans were going over and under to sort things out.

  It took a while, but eventually Hooligan’s leash was attached only to Hooligan. That’s when Mr. Ng came over and handed it to me. “Good luck, Cameron,” he said.

  Mr. Ng is tall and skinny and kind of serious. Mr. Bryant says he’s shy, but he makes me a little nervous.

  Now—and it wasn’t his fault—he made me a lot nervous. “What?!” I said.

  Mr. Ng shrugged. “Somebody’s got to be the Canine Buddy. Your dad talked to me about it, and . . .”

  I took the leash but immediately held it out to Tessa. “Don’t you wanna—?”

  Tessa put her hands behind her back. “No, no, no, Cammie! You’re the responsible older sister.”

  “Nate?” I tried. But that was hopeless. He’s into piano, not pets.

  Mr. Mormora was calling the class to order when the last puppy pupil arrived, a black puffball mutt, along with his owner, Mr. Bryant. Of course, Hooligan was thrilled to see Mr. Bryant! He lunged and would’ve pulled me over, but I leaned back with every ounce I own. “Hooligan! Stay!”

  Too bad he actually did, which I never expected. Unbalanced, I sat down on a cockapoo. The cockapoo wasn’t hurt, but he snapped at me, which made the owner squeal and Hooligan growl. This got the rest of the dogs excited, and we were on the verge of total puppy upset when Mr. Mormora dropped to dog’s-eye level and spoke: “Amigos, perros, dogs of my heart . . .”

  And like magic, every pup was quiet.

  In Canine Class, the people are known as Canine Buddies, CBs for short, and the dogs are Canines in Training, or CITs. To start with, we all went around in a circle and introduced ourselves.

  Hooligan and I were first, and then the woman next to me with the cockapoo. “I’m Ann Major. I’m an assistant press secretary to President Parks. And this is my dog, Pickles.”