Then, naturally, he picked the Scottie dog to be his game token.
The Scottie dog is my game token.
I didn’t want to play Monopoly with Mr. Will. I don’t even like Mr. Will! But what could I do? I sighed and said, “That’s okay. I can be the thimble.”
Tessa had the race car as usual. And Nate got the top hat.
When Mom came back she was wearing a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants plus she had wiped off her makeup. I think she was surprised to see Mr. Will.
“Oh dear,” she said. “I hope I still have your vote.”
“You’re as lovely as your sister—with or without lipstick,” said Mr. Will.
Nate made an ewww face, but the grown-ups didn’t see it.
We played while Tessa, Nate and I caught everybody else up on the case of the ruby slippers. As usual, it seemed like by the time I’d made it around the board once, Nate had three hotels on Boardwalk. Mr. Will was the only one who landed there, and he was too broke to pay the rent.
“I’m good for it,” he insisted. “I’ll pay you when I pass Go.”
Nate is pretty competitive about Monopoly, but he couldn’t exactly say “No way—you’re out!” to a guest, so instead he looked at Mom. She said, “That’s not how we play Monopoly in our family, Mr. Will. But you’re welcome to stay and chat if you like.”
I would have been embarrassed, but I guess Mr. Will’s not the type to get embarrassed. Instead, he shrugged, put the Scottie dog back in the box and stayed.
There was kind of an awkward silence after that. Then Dad asked, “What’s next in the ruby slipper investigation?”
“Tessa and Nate are both busy tomorrow morning,” I said. “So it’s kind of up to me. Only I don’t know what to do.”
Mom said, “Maybe you could go talk to Dr. Zapato at the museum.”
“Who’s Dr. Zapato?” Tessa asked.
It was Mr. Will who answered: “The curator in charge of shoes.”
I wondered how he knew that, but I didn’t have a chance to think because Tessa was making so much noise: “No fair—I wanna go!”
“Ballet,” Mom said.
I passed Go on the next roll. Dad was banker, and instead of handing me two hundred dollars like he was supposed to, he gave me two thousand.
Mom looked up at him. “Sleepy, dear?”
Dad yawned. “Huh? Did I miscount? Sorry. Maybe it would be okay if we declared this game a tie?”
Nate frowned. “We always do that when I’m winning.”
“Because you’re always winning,” Tessa said.
Nate said, “True.”
“But this time, I was gonna beat you,” Tessa added.
“How about if we declare Tessa and Nate the winners?” Mom said. “Then we clean up and watch the news. Then we all go to bed. Do we have consensus on that?”
“I vote aye,” Dad said.
“Very statesmanlike, Madam President,” said Mr. Will.
When Monopoly was put away, Dad turned on the TV so we could watch blond Jan and gray-haired Larry, our favorite local news guys.
“. . . breaking news in that story we’re following from the National Museum of American History, Jan.” Larry looked serious. “It seems the ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz, one of the museum’s most popular exhibits, have disappeared!”
Tessa said, “No, duh.” Mom and Jan said, “Oh, dear.”
Meanwhile, the camera switched to an old photo of the slippers in their glass case at the museum.
Larry went on, “A spokesperson from the museum has confirmed that the ruby slippers, which were on loan to the White House for a private party, have vanished without a trace.”
Jan picked up the story. “And now officials say they’ve taken this man into custody. He is being called a ‘person of interest.’ ”
The picture switched to a man walking between police officers. He had his hand in front of his face. Even so, I recognized him.
So did Tessa. “Where are the police taking the man in the black suit?” she asked.
Dad said, “Jail maybe,” and looked at Mom. “What do you think, dear?”
Mom didn’t answer. Instead, she did something strange. She looked at Mr. Will. “What do you think, William?” she asked. “Is it time we tell them?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mr. Will had been so focused on the TV that Mom’s voice startled him. “What?” He bumped his glasses back against his nose. “Oh—uh, yes. I think that may be the best course. Perhaps the children can help.”
Tessa was annoyed and waved her arms the way she does. “Help how? What’s going on? Don’t tell me you grown-ups are keeping secrets again!”
Mom said, “Settle down, muffin. It looks like we’re going to have to explain something to you a little sooner than we’d planned. But we can only do it if you promise to keep it in strictest confidence.”
Tessa forgot she was annoyed. “A secret? Goodie! Do you want us to pinky promise?”
“No way will I pinky promise,” said Nate.
“A regular promise is fine,” said Mom. “Apparently, the man on TV just now—the man who said yesterday he was from the museum—is an imposter, a fake. What seems to have happened is that he went to the museum and collected the ruby slippers, claiming he was from Mrs. Silver’s office in the White House. He had appropriate White House credentials, so the museum staff didn’t question it. Now the police think the credentials must have been forged.”
“Wait a sec,” I said. “I’m confused. You mean after that—when the man came here to the White House—he claimed to be from the museum? But neither one was true?”
Mom nodded.
“Well, that’s weird,” Tessa said. “Why would somebody go to the museum and steal the slippers, then come to the White House with an empty shoe box?”
“And besides that, who is he really?” I wanted to know.
Mr. Will had been fidgeting and now he spoke. “I can’t answer Tessa’s question. But as for yours, Cammie, I believe I can add a piece of information. You see, I know that gentleman. Some years ago I did some work for the FBI, and I met him in, shall we say, a professional capacity.”
“You mean he’s a criminal?” said Dad.
“A thief,” said Mr. Will. “And with him in police custody, I think you’ll find the case is closed.”
“Again?” said Tessa.
Our bedroom light had been off for about five seconds when Tessa spoke up. “Cammie? Are you awake?”
“I haven’t had time to close my eyes.”
“Me, too,” said Tessa. “Didn’t we have it figured out the ruby slippers were somewhere in the White House, and the thief was going to give them to the buyer at the party tomorrow? But if the man in the black suit stole the slippers, then that’s all wrong. Right?”
“Right,” I said.
“Right it’s wrong, or right we’re right?” Tessa asked.
“Never mind,” I said. “The point is it doesn’t make sense to steal the ruby slippers and then come to the White House. If you wanted the slippers, and you had the slippers—you’d run for it.”
It got quiet after that, and I closed my eyes—until Tessa’s voice jolted me. “Unless your limo happened to be surrounded by police cars. Remember?”
“Hmmm. But the man in the black suit must’ve known there’d be a police escort for the slippers,” I said. “They’re that special. So how did he think he was going to get away?”
It was a hard question, and our room got quiet again. But not for long.
“What about this, Cammie? He stole the slippers for money, right? If the person giving him money was here in the White House, then he’d bring the slippers here to the White House. Oh my gosh—it’s Mrs. Silver! I can’t believe it. And she seems like such a nice lady. Plus, she has really nice clothes.”
“Tessa—”
“And she smells good. I wonder what brand of perfume she uses.”
“Tessa—”
“You don’t think she smells
good?”
I sighed and rolled over to face my sister. In the dim light, she was only a shadow. “She smells fine! But that doesn’t make her the buyer for the ruby slippers. It could be anyone in the White House! Or anyone coming to the party! And anyway, he didn’t bring Mrs. Silver the slippers. He brought Mrs. Silver an empty box. Why would he do that?”
Tessa said, “I don’t know, but it is hard to do something sneaky with people watching. And there were all those cameras and people and everything in the Dip Room. So maybe when he saw them, he decided to hold on to the slippers and give them to whoever-it-is in the White House later.”
“But then Hooligan got them,” I said.
There was a pause, then the shadow sat up and turned on the light.
“Ow!” I squinted. “We have to get up early tomorrow, remember?”
“Yeah, but we’re awake now.” Tessa climbed out of bed. “Where are your notes?”
If I had known how much detecting cuts into sleep, I’m not sure I ever would’ve tried it. Pretty soon, Tessa and I were on the love seat in our room, and I was writing new stuff in my notebook.
Like those four late additions to the guest list: Gigi Sawyer, Antonia Alfredo-Chin, Paul Song and Courtney. None of them had anything to do with Aunt Jen. I knew why Courtney had been invited, but could the others be a clue?
Soon my hand was tired from writing, so I took a break.
“I don’t see how Mr. Will can be right about the slippers,” I said. “It can’t be the man in the black suit who stole them out of Mrs. Silver’s safe. He wasn’t even in the White House then.”
“Do we know that for sure?” Tessa asked.
“It’d be super hard to sneak into the White House, especially in the middle of the night. I mean, there are alarms and guards and Secret Service and marines. . . . The thief pretty much has to be somebody who was in the White House anyway.”
“There’s that new photographer,” I said. “It’s not so likely she would’ve been working late at night, but she is one of the people who knew Mrs. Silver put the slippers in her safe.”
“Besides that, it’s mostly just us and our guests who were here,” said Tessa. “Cammie, can I ask you something?”
“Seriously, Tessa, I didn’t do it!” I said.
“I know that—duh. But what I want to know is, do you like Mr. Will?”
I didn’t even have to think. “Unh-unh. He seems fake. And he’s not nice to Ozzabelle either. I don’t even get why he’s got a dog if he doesn’t like them.”
Tessa agreed. “I don’t blame Nate for not wanting him to be his mom’s boyfriend. But wait, Cammie—I just thought of something. Mr. Will wasn’t supposed to come to stay with us till tonight, right? But he changed his plans and came a day early—yesterday.”
“That’s true,” I said.
“Well, what if he did that because he needed to be in the White House because that’s where the ruby slippers were?”
“I thought of that,” I said. “But he’s not one of the people who knew they were in the safe.” I yawned. “Tessa, I’m sorry. But I don’t think I can think anymore tonight.”
“I know,” said Tessa. “So let’s take a vote. Mr. Will stole the ruby slippers. Who else wants to say aye?”
“You know it doesn’t work that way,” I said.
“It should, though,” Tessa said. “And something else, too. If Mom wants to, she ought to get to be the queen.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Not to rat out my own sister, but I’m pretty sure Tessa only brushed about half her teeth the next morning. She couldn’t wait to get to the kitchen, and when she did, she threw open the door, which startled Humdinger, who raised an alarm—twee-twee-twee!—as well as Hooligan, who dropped down on the floor and hid his head beneath his paws.
“Woo-hoo, Granny!” Tessa cried. “It’s party day!”
Granny was standing at the counter pouring cereal for our breakfast. “Tessa, honey, it’s awfully early for so much drama. Good morning, Cameron. You don’t seem to be quite as energetic as your sister.”
“Good morning,” I said, “and I’m not. We were awake all night thinking about the case.”
Granny opened her mouth to ask a question, but Tessa spoke faster. “Today is also the day that Cammie’s boyfriend is coming! No offense, but I’d recommend lip gloss, Cammie.”
Granny gave Tessa one of her world-famous looks. “If you mean Paul Song, he will be here at eleven. He’s going to rehearse with the Marine Band in the East Room.”
I admit my heart kind of bumped, but I didn’t let on.
Tessa grabbed her cereal from the counter and looked at me. “Well, that’s a problem. You’re supposed to interview Dr. Zapato this morning, aren’t you, Cammie? Guess you have to pick between detecting and love. So which is it?”
“That’s enough, Tessa,” said Granny. “And in fact, Cammie’s meeting with Dr. Zapato is already set for nine thirty. She should have plenty of time to get back before eleven . . . if she wants to, that is.”
“Hmmph.” Tessa looked at me. “Everything’s working out just great for you, isn’t it? But I have to go to dumb old ballet.”
I said, “Sorry, Tessa.” But secretly I was excited about doing detecting on my own.
Tessa sighed and flounced into her chair at the kitchen table. I got my bowl of cereal. Nate came in. He looked sleepy. My cousin is not a morning kind of person.
Granny brought her cup of coffee and came to sit at the table with us. “What did you figure out about the case last night?” she asked.
Tessa and I took turns explaining. In conclusion, Tessa said, “Mr. Will is crazy,” which made Nate smile.
But Granny said, “It might just be there’s more to Mr. Will than you know about.”
“Oh, goodie—another secret!” said Tessa.
Granny sighed. “I’m afraid I’m not—”
“—if you say at liberty, I will scream!” said Tessa, and Hooligan must have understood because he covered his head with his paws again, just in case.
“All right then, I plain won’t tell you. Is that better?” Granny said.
“So who will?” Tessa wanted to know.
“Perhaps Dr. Zapato,” Granny said.
Tessa dropped her spoon, which clattered and splashed into her cereal bowl. “This is so totally no fair,” she said.
I thought probably Granny or Dad would come with me to the museum, but it turned out they were busy.
“Are you going to be all right on your own?” Granny asked.
“I sure am!” I said.
“Thought so,” said Granny.
Of course, “on my own” did not mean by myself. Besides being ten years old, I am the president’s kid, which is a little like being the ruby slippers: You get an escort whenever you go anywhere. Today, Malik picked up me and Charlotte at the South Portico and drove us in one of the vans.
The National Museum of American History is part of the Smithsonian Institution, and it’s located on the National Mall, only a few blocks from my house. It had rained overnight, but now the sky was blue. A normal person could have walked, but I’m pretty much never allowed to walk anywhere that there’re a lot of people. The way Granny says it, having the president’s kids on the street causes too much uproar.
At the side door of the museum, Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb were waiting for us, and we all said good morning politely.
“What happened with the pair of ruby slippers from Mrs. Silver’s safe?” I asked as we walked down a corridor. “Were they real ones from the movie?”
Mr. Webb shook his head, and Mr. Morgan answered. “The company that made the original shoes, Western Costume, made souvenir reproductions in the late 1980s. They’re good quality, and we think this pair is one of those.”
Dr. Zapato’s office was on the fifth floor and kind of messy, which made me like him. When we walked in, he stood up and leaned over his big desk to shake hands with Charlotte and me. Then I sat down with my notebook and g
ot ready to ask questions the way Tessa does.
Only Dr. Zapato started talking before I had a chance. “You and your sister are experienced detectives. That’s why we’re asking for your help.”
Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb nodded, but I was confused. I thought I was there so Dr. Zapato could help us?
“For some time now,” Dr. Zapato continued, “we at the museum have been aware that someone is unusually interested in the ruby slippers, and we were worried that this someone might also want to steal them. Here, I can show you.”
Dr. Zapato pressed a button, and a video began playing on a screen on the wall.
“This is from one of the security cameras,” he explained. It showed the glass display case with the slippers in it. People were crowding around, pointing and holding kids up. Most people didn’t stay very long, but one person—a small woman with very short gray hair—just stood staring. Around her throat was a necklace with a pendant shaped like the letter A.
“Do you notice anything?” Dr. Zapato asked me.
“It’s like that lady’s stuck,” I said.
He nodded. “In the last six months, she’s visited the museum some twenty-five times. And she’s not the first to become obsessively interested in the slippers either. So, to help us keep them safe, we decided to hire an outside security expert, one who came very highly recommended. I believe you know him—Mr. William Will.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I almost dropped my pen. Mr. Will was working for the museum? Then he couldn’t be the thief!
“We’re talking about the same Mr. William Will, right?” I said to make sure. “My aunt’s boyfriend Mr. William Will?”
Dr. Zapato turned off the projector. “The very same. With his assistance, we believed we had devised a foolproof method to ensure the slippers’ safety. Unfortunately, something seems to have gone wrong.”
“What foolproof method?” Charlotte asked.
Dr. Zapato said, “RF technology.”
The Case of the Ruby Slippers Page 5
