London Art Chase

by Natalie Grant

  “Who?” Lulu asked. “Who, who?”

  “The thief!” Maddie said.

  “Where?” Lulu asked.

  “What’s going on, girls?” Miss Julia asked, turning away from the ceremony to give them her full attention.

  “There, on the other side of the courtyard,” Maddie said. “I can tell by the gray steaks in his hair, and those wire glasses. I’m pretty sure—”

  “I’ll catch him!” Lulu took off running, straight into the courtyard, and straight toward the lines of soldiers.

  The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Lulu’s plan seemed to be to dart around the soldiers, on the straightest path possible to the thief, but instead of going around them, she knocked into the soldier on the end of the line, causing him to stumble and knock into the soldier beside him. Maddie and Mia watched in horror as guard after guard stumbled and scattered, black hats toppling everywhere, with Lulu in the middle of the whole mess.

  “Oh no,” Miss Julia said. “No, no, no!”

  She gave Maddie and Mia her most serious look, ten times the one she’d given them in the museum the day before. “You two stay right here and don’t move.”

  They both nodded in agreement, and Miss Julia hurried into the courtyard, making a beeline for Lulu.

  TWENTY

  Maddie bounced up and down on her toes, watching the thief move farther and farther away. “He’s getting away!”

  “Why are you so sure this guy is a thief?” Mia asked.

  “You saw the same thing I did, Mia. Why don’t you think so?”

  “I don’t know. Because no one else is worried, I guess. Because no one is talking about a stolen painting.”

  “Mia, I promised Mom I’d let it go, and all day, I have. But I prayed last night asking that if there was anything I could do, God would make it clear. And now I see this guy again, here. It’s like I’m specifically being given another chance to follow him and find out what’s going on.”

  “You mean, from God?” Mia’s eyebrows raised skeptically.

  “Could be.” Maddie knew she was on shaky ground.

  “I don’t think God expects kids to chase down thieves.”

  “Okay, well, even if God didn’t send him, what’s the harm in following him and seeing where he goes and maybe who he is? I really, really need to know what happened yesterday.”

  “You are taking this whole thing too seriously,” Mia said.

  “If we go together, and we’re careful, it will be fine. Come on, Mia. Please? Miss Julia will be upset for a second, and then she’ll come along. Look, he’s already made his way through the crowd. We’ll never catch up with him if we don’t go now.”

  “Okay, Maddie,” Mia said. “If this is truly so important to you, then let’s go catch this guy.”

  The two girls joined hands and started to run. Instead of battling through the crowd, they followed Lulu’s lead and went straight across the courtyard, careful not to run into any guards.

  They passed Miss Julia and shouted, “Come on!”

  Miss Julia called after them, “Girls, wait!”

  They were already on their way. Maddie glanced over her shoulder. Lulu and Miss Julia had untangled themselves from the pile of guards and were now running across the courtyard too. Satisfied that they were all together, if a little spread out, Maddie doubled her speed.

  “Come on, Mia. He’s turning the corner!”

  Weaving in and around people, they ran and then walked whenever they got too close.

  “What do we do if we catch him?” Mia asked, breathing hard.

  “Let’s just see where he goes,” Maddie gasped. “Maybe we’ll figure out where he lives or works or something when he stops. Then we can ask someone for help.”

  Maddie felt ridiculously conspicuous, but the man seemed unaware of being followed. He walked briskly on, down street after London street, past telephone booths and post boxes, old-fashioned lights, and window boxes filled with brightly colored flowers.

  “What are you girls doing?” Miss Julia asked as she finally caught up with them.

  “We’re catching him, we’re catching him!” Lulu shouted.

  “Shhhh!” both Maddie and Mia hissed.

  “You cannot follow a strange man through the streets of London,” Miss Julia said.

  “But he’s a thief!” Maddie whispered.

  “Especially if he’s a criminal,” Miss Julia said. “We need to leave this situation up to the police.”

  “We’re keeping our distance. He has no idea we’re following him,” Maddie said. “And you’re with us, so we’re safe.”

  Mia pointed. “Look, he’s turning onto another street!”

  The girls hurried around the corner so they wouldn’t lose sight of him. Miss Julia had no choice but to follow, grumbling under her breath. Now that Maddie was all-in, she knew she’d have to prove this guy was a thief, or face her parents’ anger. The only way they’d forgive her for running Miss Julia all around town was if it was for a very, very good cause—such as saving a famous and beautiful painting. For one tiny moment, Maddie allowed herself to think about how she would feel once she found the painting and the thief was caught. Rather than being the one who was always last to join in, the one who never said the most interesting thing, the one just off-center, she’d be the one who’d spoken up and taken action.

  The man turned one last corner, and headed up a set of stone steps into what looked like an office building. Trafalgar Square was just at the end of the street, and in the distance, Maddie could see the National Gallery.

  “Look where we are!” Mia said.

  “I know! This is the direction he was walking yesterday.” Maddie held out her arm to stop everyone so they wouldn’t get too close and be spotted.

  Once the man was inside, she said, “Come on! Let’s go see.”

  Miss Julia didn’t say anything. She followed along silently, her lips pressed together in a thin line, as though she was holding back all the things she might say.

  Mia and Maddie raced each other up the steps, with Lulu right at their heels. A sign above the door read, National Archivist, Ltd.

  “Like the National Gallery?” Lulu asked, dancing around in excitement. “We found our thief!”

  “But wait,” Mia said. “An archivist is someone who takes care of paintings and documents and old things, right?”

  “Yes . . .” Miss Julia said, her brow furrowing.

  Maddie paused, less sure than she’d been all the way across town. If her thief worked here, maybe Mia had been right all along, and he hadn’t been a thief at all.

  “We should definitely go inside,” Mia said, and Maddie knew she was doing the twin-thing, listening in on Maddie’s thoughts. “We should ask questions and get to the bottom of what’s going on here. You still want to know, right, Maddie?”

  “Right,” Maddie said, but her voice came out more like a question than a for-sure answer.

  “Let’s go!” Lulu said, and pushed through the doors before anyone could stop her.

  Mia looped her arm through Maddie’s, and they followed Lulu inside.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Inside the building, it was at least fifteen degrees colder and at least twice as dark as it had been on the streets outside. And it hadn’t been warm or bright outside. Maddie’s teeth started to chatter.

  A dim desk lamp lit the receptionist’s desk and cast grim shadows across her face as she looked up with surprise. “May I help you?”

  Kids must not come here very often, Maddie realized. She looked at Lulu and then at Mia, but clearly, no one knew what to do next. They couldn’t exactly demand to see the man with wire-rimmed glasses.

  Miss Julia shot Maddie a say-something look. Seeing that no one was going to help her out, Maddie stepped up to the desk.

  “We, uh, came to see the man who just came in.”

  “Mr. Hughes?”

  “Yes,” Maddie said, trying to sound sure when she was anything but.


  “Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked, flipping through a book on her desk. “I’m afraid Mr. Hughes is quite a busy man.”

  Maddie fidgeted, trying to think of the right answer. Mia and Lulu always had something to say, but now, when she needed help . . . nothing? And shouldn’t Miss Julia say something? She thought of Miss Julia’s expression when Lulu toppled the guards and the sound of her voice when she’d told the girls to come back. No. Miss Julia was definitely not going to smooth this over for Maddie right now.

  “We don’t have an appointment, but we really need to speak to him,” Maddie said. “It’s urgent.”

  The receptionist narrowed her eyes at Maddie, sizing her up, and then picked up the phone. “Your name?”

  “Maddie Glimmer. And these are my sisters, Mia and Lulu.”

  She dialed and waited. “Mr. Hughes? I have three American children here to see you. Maddie, Mia, and Lulu Glimmer . . . No, sir, they did not . . . I’m not sure. They say it’s urgent . . . Yes, sir . . .”

  Maddie shifted from foot to foot, her discomfort growing. If Mr. Hughes was the thief, there was no way he’d want to talk to them. But he hadn’t seen them at the museum, or when they’d been following him—at least she didn’t think he had. Maybe he’d think they were harmless kids. But if he wasn’t the thief, what reason would he have to talk to three kids he’d never heard of before?

  “Yes, blonde hair, one is wearing a . . . They do have a guardian here with them. Okay, yes, sir, I’ll send her right up.” She hung up and spoke only to Miss Julia. “Mr. Hughes would like to see you, Miss . . .?”

  “Julia Twist,” Miss Julia said, shooting Maddie a this-is-going-to-stop-now look.

  “Mr. Hughes thought there might be a few blonde children following him today as he walked back from Buckingham Palace. He’d like a word with you.”

  “Of course,” Miss Julia said.

  “His office is up the stairs and to the left. The girls may have a seat on the bench over there and wait. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

  Maddie, Mia, and Lulu sat. Lulu swung her legs, obviously not a bit bothered.

  Mia elbowed Maddie. “Do you still think he’s guilty?”

  “I don’t know,” Maddie whispered, eyeing the receptionist.

  “Maybe he won’t talk to us because he is guilty,” Lulu said, her voice loud and clear.

  “Excuse me?” the receptionist asked.

  “Nothing,” the girls chimed in unison.

  “I must ask that if you must speak at all, keep your voices down. This is a place of business, girls.”

  Good thing this receptionist wasn’t their nanny. Miss Julia might get mad every once in a while, but at least she didn’t wear her hair in a too-tight bun and have too-strict rules that even made something like waiting in a lobby uncomfortable.

  Maddie tried not to talk, listening to the tic-tic-ticking of the clock. She rubbed her arms to keep warm.

  “It’s freezing in here,” Lulu said to no one in particular. “Why don’t you turn up the heat?”

  The receptionist gave her a withering look. “We are an archival office. Cool temperatures keep the paintings and documents from deteriorating.”

  “So that’s what you do here? Take care of old paintings and things?” Maddie asked.

  “Yes,” the receptionist said, deliberately looking away from them and back at her computer screen.

  “Maybe we can get some clues from her!” Lulu whispered, and then raising her voice again, said, “Do you know of any paintings by Renoir?” She said Renoir with a strong “r” at the end.

  “Ren-oir!” Mia corrected, pronouncing his name in the French way.

  “Of course I know of Renoir,” the receptionist said.

  “There’s this painting,” Lulu said, jumping to her feet and slinking around the room, the way a detective might in a cartoon. “We call it ‘Sun-Splattered Afternoon,’ but that’s not its real name. Anyway, it’s missing from the National Gallery. And we think we know who took it!” At this, she turned and pointed her finger directly at the receptionist.

  “Lulu!” Maddie said.

  “Come sit down,” Mia said.

  “I’m going to have to insist that you girls stay quiet until Miss Twist returns. And that you stay seated,” the receptionist added as an afterthought.

  Lulu shrugged one shoulder and sat back down with her sisters. “I think she’s guilty too. We’ll see.”

  Even though the receptionist could clearly hear everything Lulu had said, she didn’t respond.

  “Girls?” Miss Julia had come down the stairs. “Mr. Hughes would like to speak with you for a moment.”

  Maddie shot the receptionist a triumphant look as she followed her sisters upstairs. The truth! She was finally going to get the truth. She would look Mr. Hughes in the eye and demand an explanation. Soon, the painting would be back on the wall of the National Gallery and it would be all because she, Maddie Glimmer, hadn’t given up.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The stairway and upper hall were just as dim as the rest of the office. Shady. The kind of place where criminals might hang out. She’d been so busy chasing after Mr. Hughes, she hadn’t thought of what she’d say to him when she found him. Mentally, she ran through her questions. Why did you steal the painting? Where is it now? If he denied being the one who took it, what would she say then?

  The tightness around Miss Julia’s mouth and eyes had relaxed, and her cheeks weren’t flushed with frustration anymore. The meeting must not have gone the way she expected. Maddie wondered what that meant. Did Miss Julia finally believe her, now that she’d looked into Mr. Hughes’ guilty face?

  The office was surprisingly cozy, with overstuffed armchairs and a couch. Where outside, the dim light was bluish and cold, in here, the lampshades were amber, giving the room a warm glow. Even though the temperature wasn’t any warmer, the room felt inviting, less like an industrial refrigerator.

  “Come on in, girls,” Mr. Hughes urged. “Now, sit yourselves down. It sounds as though we’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

  Miss Julia introduced the girls to Mr. Hughes, and then she, Mia, and Lulu sat together on the couch. Maddie stayed on her feet, eyeing Mr. Hughes critically. Was the warm, welcoming tone his way of putting them off his criminal trail?

  He perched on the edge of his desk, took off his glasses, polished them with a handkerchief, and then put them back on. “I have to admit, I was a tad concerned when I realized a parade of girls was following me back to the office after lunch. But then Miss Twist explained that you saw me remove the Renoir from the wall at the National Gallery, and all the pieces fell into place.”

  “So, you admit that you stole the painting?” Maddie demanded.

  “Actually, I didn’t steal it,” Mr. Hughes said. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?”

  Maddie folded her arms. “I’ll stand.”

  “Have it your way.” Mr. Hughes cleared his throat, and then scanned the room as though someone might be hiding in the shadows. No one was, of course, and so he went on. “Now, girls, what I’m about to tell you is confidential.”

  “That means it’s top, top secret!” Lulu said, starting to bounce on the couch. “I knew this was going to be good when I chased after you at Buckingham Palace.”

  “That’s why all those guards knocked into one another today?” Mr. Hughes asked and then glanced at Miss Julia. “Oh dear, we seem to have made quite a mess, haven’t we?”

  “I didn’t mean to knock into anyone,” Lulu said. “There were so many of them, and they were in my way . . .” As Miss Julia caught her eye, her voice trailed off. “I’m really sorry about it.”

  “What’s done is done. I didn’t realize you girls were following me until I was quite a distance from Buckingham Palace. Turns out that you’re rather good at following people. Not”—he raised a finger—“that I’m suggesting you follow anyone else. If you truly believe you’ve found a criminal, you should do exactly what your
nanny has told you to do and tell a bobby.”

  “So, what’s so confidential?” Maddie insisted, not willing to be distracted from what actually mattered.

  “Here at our office, we keep a vault of valuable paintings when they aren’t on display at the National Gallery.”

  “Why aren’t all of the paintings on display?” Mia asked.

  “We have far too many paintings to display all of them at one time.” Mr. Hughes shook his head regretfully. “Honestly, many paintings which ought to be seen are languishing in our storage vaults. Most of those vaults are housed at the National Gallery itself, but when a painting needs special attention or restoration, we bring it here to our office.”

  Maddie felt like a teakettle about to boil. Mr. Hughes was acting so reasonable and as though he had all of the answers, but he hadn’t explained the thing she wanted to understand. “But why did you take the Renoir off the wall, and then look over your shoulder like you hoped no one saw? We saw you,” she said.

  Even though his glasses were already spotless, Mr. Hughes took them off and rubbed them clean again before answering. Maddie wished she could be a teakettle and start to whistle, loud and long, until he got to the point and spilled the truth.

  “The truth is,” Mr. Hughes said, putting his glasses back on again, “we’ve had a string of robberies recently, all paintings that were newly brought here to the archives. The theory is that someone is watching which paintings we bring to the archives, identifying those that he or she wants to steal, and stealing them from us, here. Our security in this office isn’t as tight as the security at the National Gallery.”

  “I don’t understand,” Maddie said. “If you need more security, why were you taking the painting all by yourself with no one else around?”

  “We figured that by cutting out the procedures, paperwork, and official red tape, we might be able to avoid notice. Maybe that way, we could bring paintings here without the thief’s knowledge. I scheduled my pickup of the painting to be just before the concert, when I thought no one would be around.”

  Mia frowned and then started to nod. “That’s actually a good idea! If the thief worked for the National Gallery and was watching the paperwork to plan his robberies, he might not find out about the paintings until they were treated or repaired and back in the more secure vaults at the National Gallery.”