London Art Chase

by Natalie Grant

  “Deal!” Lulu banged her fists on the table, making all of the silverware jump with a clatter. “Oops!”

  Maddie and Mia started to giggle. Lulu held out, but not for long. Soon, tears filled Maddie’s eyes and her stomach started to burn, but every time she managed to stop laughing someone would snort or squeal and she’d burst out laughing all over again.

  When the waiter showed up with their food, they finally managed to get themselves under control. He placed fancy plates in front of each of them with a flourish. Maddie nearly started giggling again over the odd combination of french fries and fish on such fancy china, all placed carefully on a white tablecloth-covered table.

  “May I bring you anything else?” the waiter asked.

  “I think we’re all set,” Miss Julia said.

  “Cheers!” he answered, leaving them to eat.

  “Why is everyone always saying ‘Cheers’ around here?” Lulu asked, reaching for one of her french fries—chips, as they called them in London. “What does that word mean, exactly?”

  “Cheers can mean a lot of things,” Miss Julia said. “Thank you, or good wishes, or even hello, depending on who’s saying it and when.”

  “Then why don’t they actually say thank you or hello?” Lulu asked.

  “Because saying cheers is so much cooler,” Mia said, and then tried out the word with an English accent. “Cheers!”

  “God bless this meal,” Miss Julia said. “And make us a blessing to the people around us today.”

  “Amen,” chimed the girls, and then everyone dug in.

  It turned out that fried fish was much more delicious than most other kinds of fish. And the french fries were perfectly crispy too. Apparently, you were supposed to eat them with vinegar, like salt and vinegar potato chips. Maddie chose good-old-American ketchup, which she was relieved to find on the table alongside the vinegar.

  “It’s good, Maddie,” Mia insisted, holding a vinegar-soaked fry out in front of Maddie’s face. The smell made the inside of Maddie’s nose burn.

  “No, thanks,” Maddie said.

  “Suit yourself,” Mia said, and popped the whole fry in her mouth. “Mmmm . . .”

  Soon, every last chip had been inhaled. The fish wasn’t quite as popular, but between the four of them, they nearly finished the lot. And Lulu’s bites of salad were miniature, but in the end, she did swallow them down.

  “So, are we ready to solve our mystery?” Miss Julia asked.

  “And see Maddie’s ‘Sun-Splattered Afternoon’!” Mia reminded everyone.

  “Let’s go!” Lulu jumped to her feet and nearly toppled a water glass in the process.

  “Oops-a-daisy,” the waiter said, catching the glass just in time.

  “Wow! Nice catch,” Mia said.

  As they stood to go, the waiter stepped aside to let them pass. “Cheers!”

  “Why do you say cheers instead of thank you?” Lulu asked. “Do you ever say plain thank you?”

  “Well now . . .” the waiter said, thinking. “I definitely do say thank you every now and again, but cheers is my go-to, I suppose.”

  “Thank you for all of your help today,” Miss Julia said.

  “Yes,” Lulu said, and then in her best English accent, “Cheers!”

  The waiter gave them a broad smile. “Now you sound like a right little English maiden. The best to all of you in your travels.”

  “The Glimmer girls are on the case!” Lulu said, and then launched into her theme song again.

  “Shhh, Lulu,” Mia warned.

  Maddie just smiled. Lulu made everything more fun, theme songs and all.

  ELEVEN

  They had three more rooms to visit on the Art Detective tour. In Room 9, the room Maddie would call the green room, all the paintings were from Venice. They were also huge. The painting on the Art Detectives tour was called Christ Addressing a Kneeling Woman. The woman knelt in front, with a crowd pressing in around her and Christ standing next to her. Like many of the paintings with Jesus in them, he had a white glow around his head to show his holiness.

  “His eyes are so kind,” Mia said. “I like to think of Jesus looking like that. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we actually had lived in those times and could have looked at him? I mean, to look at God? He wouldn’t have had that glow. If you passed him on the street, I wonder if you’d know he wasn’t an ordinary person.”

  “I think if you talked to him, you’d have known,” Maddie said. “In all the Bible stories, even when Jesus wasn’t preaching, he said the kinds of things that surprised people and made them think.”

  “What are we supposed to figure out in this painting?” Lulu asked.

  They listened to the audio, and then tried to figure out what the other people in the painting were thinking, each person a little different than the others.

  On their way out of the room, Maddie stopped to look at a painting called Mary Magdalene. The colors were muted—grays and browns and blues. Mary Magdalene sat curled up, her shawl wrapped around her shoulders and knees. She seemed to be thinking deeply. Maybe if she could be a painting, Maddie would want to be one like this. Even though it wasn’t fireworks or a courageous charge, this painting made you stop to think.

  They finished up the Art Detective tour, and Lulu gave one final rendition of the Glimmer girls theme song. Fortunately, the last stop of the tour was in the children’s hall, so no one really minded.

  Maddie hurried from the children’s hall up the stairs to the purple room, only just keeping herself from running, something she knew she should never do in a museum. It was finally time to see “Sun-Splattered Afternoon” again, and this time, she would have as much time as she wanted to look at it.

  “Hold up,” Mia called, jogging to catch up.

  “Wait for me!” Lulu said, her high voice approaching the kind of wail that Maddie knew would turn to tears if she wasn’t careful.

  She slowed down and waited for Lulu and Miss Julia to catch up. Then, together, they made their way through one room after another. It was odd, the way that nearly no one was in any of the rooms right then.

  “I think it’s so quiet because everyone is gathered downstairs for that special concert,” Miss Julia said, flagging down a nearby guard to ask him if that was the case.

  When they were about to step into the Purple Room, Maddie saw a gloved man reach up and take a painting off the wall. She pulled her sisters back behind a pillar and peeked around to see what he was doing. People weren’t supposed to take paintings off the wall, Maddie was absolutely sure of that. This man glanced over his shoulder, as if to check to make sure he was alone, and then he hurried away into the next room.

  Maddie stood frozen, completely unsure of what to do.

  “Did you see that?” Mia asked, eyes as round as saucers.

  “He—” Lulu began in her voice that carried across any room, but Mia clapped her hand over their little sister’s mouth.

  “Shhh!”

  “Yeah,” Maddie said, and then realized she knew exactly what they should do. “Come on!”

  She raced after the man, who seemed to have disappeared into thin air in the next room. A door clicked, and she knew he’d gone into an employees-only area.

  “Should we follow him?” she asked Mia.

  “I don’t know . . .” Mia said. “Maybe he’s an employee and we just misunderstood.”

  “But did you see the way he looked over his shoulder, like he was doing something wrong? People who work here wouldn’t do something like that. Plus, why would he be taking a painting off a wall all by himself?”

  “He’s getting away!” Lulu wailed.

  “Maybe we can cut him off somewhere,” Mia said. “Maybe he’ll come out of the employee door downstairs.”

  “What’s going on, girls?” Miss Julia asked, catching up with them. “You can’t just go running off like that.”

  Maybe Mia was the one who’d usually lead a charge, but Maddie wasn’t going to let this criminal get away. Not on
ly had she been waiting all day to see “Sun-Splattered Afternoon,” but it was wrong to take a painting, something that had been made so long ago and which could never be replaced.

  Maddie made up her mind. Even if it was against the rules to run in a museum, this situation was obviously the exception. “He’s getting away!” she called to her sisters.

  TWELVE

  Maddie sprinted for the stairs, hoping Mia was right about him coming out an employee door downstairs. It didn’t seem like the man would want to come out into the main hall with a painting under his arm, but he wouldn’t want to stay in the employee area either. Not if he was stealing the painting. Anyone could see him.

  “Maddie, where are you going?” Miss Julia called after her.

  Maddie glanced over her shoulder. Once again they were like a parade. Mia, then Lulu, with Miss Julia hurrying along after them, trying to keep her cool as she passed a guard.

  “Hey!” he called, and started after them. “You can’t run in here.”

  Maddie took the stairs two at a time, hoping she wouldn’t fall flat on her face. No time to worry about that now. All that mattered was finding the thief before it was too late.

  Maddie put on a burst of speed down the last two stairs and rounded the corner. Crash! She skidded to a stop, and Mia thumped into her back, causing another loud crash. Blinking, Maddie realized they’d run straight into a cellist, knocking her cello out of her hands. Crash! Lulu plowed into a whole section of music stands and scattered them. Sheet music flew everywhere.

  “Oh no, no, no!” The cellist knelt beside her fallen cello, running her fingers over the sides of the instrument, inspecting every last inch.

  Maddie stood helplessly, remembering what Mom always said about orchestra instruments in particular. They’re expensive, girls, very expensive. Whatever you do, you must be careful if there are instruments involved. Of all the things she could have run into, why did it have to be a cello?

  “What were you thinking?” The cellist’s voice felt as sharp as a slap.

  Maddie stared at her toes, not able to meet the cellist’s eyes.

  “Now there.” A violinist tucked her instrument under her arm and knelt next to the cellist to take a look. “I don’t see any damage.”

  “So, your cello is okay?” Maddie asked, praying this was the truth.

  “No thanks to you,” the woman snapped. “And I think there’s a scratch. I’m not sure.”

  Mia hurried to pick up the music stands and Lulu tried to help.

  “Leave them,” the conductor said.

  By now, most of the instrumentalists had gathered round, wearing grim expressions. A few murmured soothing words to the cellist.

  “We’re so sorry,” Maddie said, tears filling her eyes.

  “Don’t think you can cry about this and get away with it,” the cellist said. “You’ll pay if there’s anything wrong with my cello.”

  “She didn’t mean . . .” Miss Julia began, trying to sooth the angry woman.

  The security guard spoke into her radio urgently, and then clapped a hand on Maddie’s shoulder. “I think you should all come with me.”

  Maddie’s stomach dropped. For a moment, she couldn’t move.

  Mia slipped her hand into Maddie’s and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

  “But what about my cello?” the cellist asked no one in particular.

  “Bring your cello along. If need be, we will certainly work out a way for you to file a claim. You say there’s no damage you can see?” The security guard frowned down at the cello.

  “Well, no,” the cellist admitted, placing her cello back in its case. “But I won’t know if my instrument is ruined until I truly play it. Anything could have happened to the balance, tiny things, things the naked eye could never see.”

  “Well, then, you can exchange information. Come with me, and we’ll get this handled,” the security guard said.

  The thief! Maddie suddenly remembered why they’d been running in the first place. “But we can’t leave. We have to find the thief!”

  “The what?” the security guard asked, reaching for her radio again.

  “A man took a painting off a wall upstairs. We were running to catch up with him. What if we made it easier for him to get away because we made this giant mess?”

  “If there had been a robbery, I’m sure I’d know about it,” the security guard said, checking her radio’s knobs and dials.

  “But—” Maddie said.

  “Girls, let’s go.” Miss Julia looked more serious than Maddie had ever seen her look.

  They followed the guard through another employees-only door, and up a cement staircase to the second floor. Behind them, the cellist followed, carrying her cello even though the case was huge and looked nearly impossible to lug up the stairs. A security door opened into a reception area. Behind the wide desk, a number of offices lined a long hallway.

  “Wait here,” the guard said, indicating a couch and chairs.

  “Would you like something to drink?” the woman behind the desk asked. “Tea or water?”

  “Oh, no . . .” Miss Julia said, looking embarrassed as the guard shot them a withering glance. “But thank you.”

  “I’ll take tea,” the cellist piped up.

  The receptionist looked from the girls to the musician and back again, but didn’t comment as she rose to pour tea into a mug. “Milk or sugar?”

  The cellist sniffed. “Both.”

  The receptionist gave the girls an apologetic look as she handed off the tea. Lulu begged to take a picture for the travelogue, while Miss Julia tried to explain the seriousness of the situation. Mia tossed in a comment now and again, but Maddie couldn’t focus on the conversation. If she were a painting now, she’d be a messy black storm. A woman came out of one of the offices talking on her phone.

  “It should be ready in a day or two,” the woman said, and then nodded to the receptionist.

  Maddie noticed that the woman had paint under her fingernails, the way her art teacher always did. It made sense that artists would work at museums, but she thought it might be difficult too. Wouldn’t it be hard to be around art all the time and not be able to paint yourself?

  “Yes, the Renoir,” the woman said as she passed through the door.

  Maddie frowned. The stolen painting had been a Renoir, and now this woman had mentioned one. Did that mean the museum had discovered the robbery? She stood up, meaning to stop the woman and tell her they’d seen the thief, but just then the security guard showed up.

  “The director can see you now.” She motioned them toward one of the offices.

  Maddie didn’t think she should argue, not with the cellist, Miss Julia, Mia, and the security guard all giving her their most serious you’re-in-trouble-now faces. She’d have to wait and tell the director about the thief. If one of the staff knew about the robbery, surely the director did too.

  THIRTEEN

  The director’s office was very much like a principal’s office, with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a no-nonsense desk behind which the director sat. He motioned to the seats across from him, and steepled his fingers on his desk as he eyed the girls one by one. Maddie had never been to the principal’s office because she was in trouble, but she had been there once with Mia and Mom to talk about class placement—whether the twins should be in the same classroom or each in their own. Even though that conversation had been important, she hadn’t felt scared or guilty, the way she felt now. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever having felt this badly before. She’d never, ever want to knock over an instrument on purpose. Even more importantly, she’d failed at stopping the thief, and all the commotion they’d made may have even made it easier for him to escape. Instead of helping, she’d made a giant mess.

  “Now what’s this I hear about running in the museum?” the director asked, after they’d all taken a seat.

  “We saw a man steal a painting and . . .” Maddie started, thinking the directo
r would be grateful for more information on the robbery.

  “We don’t know if he was stealing,” Mia corrected.

  The director smiled the smile that adults wore when they were trying to be patient, but weren’t feeling very patient at all. “Girls, I don’t have time for stories. The point is that you were running—”

  “And you knocked over my cello!” the cellist roared. “That’s what this is all about.”

  “Now, I’m sure the girls are sorry they knocked over your cello,” the director jumped in, looking slightly alarmed at the volume of the woman’s outburst. “And I’m sure they’ve learned their lesson, haven’t you, girls?”

  Maddie couldn’t quite catch up with the conversation. Didn’t the director know about the robbery? Had she totally misunderstood the conversation the woman was having on her phone?

  “But we—” Maddie started.

  “Maddie,” Mia said, giving her a stop-talking-now look.

  “Girls, don’t you think you owe everyone an apology?” Miss Julia said.

  “We’re sorry,” Lulu said. “But we were—”

  “No buts,” Miss Julia said.

  “What will you do about my cello?” the cellist demanded.

  “I understand you’re upset,” the director said. “But if your instrument is unharmed—”

  “As I’ve been trying to tell you, we won’t know whether it is harmed until the instrument is played, and not just a note or two, but when the instrument is truly warmed up and being used as it’s meant to be used. Then I’ll know if there are any damages.”

  “Someone stole a Renoir!” Maddie blurted. “We saw him take it right off the wall.”

  Everyone stopped and stared. Even Miss Julia looked a little shocked.

  “You may have thought you saw . . .” the director began.

  “I don’t have time to sit here while these children make excuses for themselves,” the cellist said. “My concert is in five minutes and I need to warm up my cello.”

  “Perhaps I can take your contact information?” the director asked Miss Julia. “Just in case?”

  “Of course,” Miss Julia said. She jotted a few lines on the director’s notepad and passed it back to him.