The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar Page 6

  Here is a piece of advice if you ever live with a dog: Don’t put breakable things at tail level.

  Mr. Bryant and Mr. Ng moved to the Center Hall to stop them, but it wasn’t easy. There was lots of furniture in the way, and the dogs could go under and around places Mr. Bryant and Mr. Ng couldn’t. Just watching made me dizzy, and then Mr. Bryant wasn’t looking and collided with Mr. Ng, and they both fell back and sat down on the rug—ouch.

  “Everyone just stay calm!” Granny said, not very calmly. “If we wait, they’ll tire themselves out.” But then, “Oh!” she had to sidestep to stay out of Cotton-ball’s way, and “Ooh!” Hooligan brushed by on the other side.

  It was Mr. Mormora who saved the day. The stairs outside his room come out on the second floor near the Treaty Room. When he heard the commotion, he came running down and placed himself in the dogs’ path like a traffic cop. “Gentlemen?” he said. “You stop now.”

  And they did.

  It took three maids to sweep and dust and set things right. Meanwhile, Mr. Ng took the dogs outside, Ms. Kootoor said she had a headache and went back to her room and Mr. Mormora went back upstairs. In the end, it was Granny, Mr. Bryant, Tessa, Nate and I who collapsed in the West Sitting Hall.

  Maybe for the first time ever, Granny looked embarrassed. “I guess I shouldn’t have tested it with the dogs around,” she said. “It seems to have upset them.”

  “Tested what?” Tessa asked.

  From her pocket, Granny pulled two silver somethings, each one on a chain—whistles! “I thought Ms. Kootoor’s father’s idea was a good one,” she went on. “So these are for you girls.”

  “Cool!” Tessa took a whistle and immediately put it to her mouth.

  “No!” everybody shouted at once.

  Tessa grinned. “Only kidding. Thanks, Granny. Even if it doesn’t have diamonds, I like it better than Ms. Kootoor’s. It’s a lot bigger.”

  I took my whistle and thanked Granny, too. Then I realized this might be our best chance to interview Mr. Bryant. Tessa must’ve been thinking the same thing because she crossed her arms over her chest. “Mr. Bryant,” she said. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “QUESTIONS?” said Mr. Bryant. “No, I don’t mind. Are you girls detecting again? I understand those diamonds on Hooligan’s collar might be real after all.”

  “How’d you hear that?” Tessa asked.

  Granny looked embarrassed again. Twice in one afternoon had to be some kind of record. “I think by now it’s, uh . . . general knowledge here in the White House,” she said.

  Tessa started over. “Mr. Bryant, was Hooligan wearing his diamond collar when you got him out of his crate this morning?”

  Mr. Bryant shook his head. “No. In fact, he wasn’t wearing any collar at all. That’s why I put the old one back on him.”

  “What time did that happen?” Tessa asked.

  “Must’ve been just after six twenty,” Mr. Bryant said. “I know because they clocked me in at the gatehouse at six fifteen.”

  “So that means the collar disappeared between—” I started to say. But I was interrupted by the appearance of two men in almost identical gray suits standing in the doorway to the center hall. Granny seemed to know them.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” said the taller one. “Do you mind if we—?”

  “No, no. Go ahead,” Granny said. “Whatever you need.”

  “Thank you,” said the other man, and they turned and disappeared back into the hall.

  Some parts of the White House are public spaces, but the second and third floors are where we live. That means I usually know everyone. But I didn’t know these guys.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Are they gonna look in our room?” Tessa asked.

  “They’re doing their job,” Granny said, which, if you think about it, did not answer the question. “Your mom will be in to talk to you later.”

  “Oh, fine,” said Tessa. “As usual, the grown-ups are all in on it together.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  NO way was Granny giving us more information. So Tessa and I went back to our room to look at our latest notes. Unfortunately, it seemed like they only added confusion.

  Then I remembered something Granny once told Tessa and me—how a fresh pair of eyes can help you see clearly.

  Could Nate’s be a fresh pair of eyes?

  Tessa didn’t like the idea at first, but in the end I talked her into it. “Only we have to make him pinky promise not to reveal our secrets,” she said.

  “Ewww!” said Nate, when we proposed the pinky promise, but in the end, curiosity won out, and we all hooked fingers.

  “Don’t you ever tell any of my friends I did this ever,” he said when we let go.

  “The problem,” I said after he had looked at my notebook, “is that the investigation keeps changing. At first we were only looking for a single fake diamond. Now we’re looking for a single real diamond, plus the collar.”

  “But that’s a good thing,” said Nate. “It’s like a math problem. Adding a second variable limits the possible solutions.”

  Tessa shook her head. “Would you puh-leeze remember I am only in second grade?”

  “Even you can understand this, Tessa,” Nate said. “The way you’ve got it figured, the diamond disappeared when Hooligan was in the trees by the tennis courts, right? Then the collar disappeared between four and six twenty this morning. So if you forget all the confusing details about Mr. Ghanamamma and El Brillante, the thief has to be someone who could’ve gotten to Hooligan both times. That’s fewer people than had access to him one time or the other. See?”

  “But couldn’t there be two different thieves?” I said. “Like, Mr. Mormora doesn’t seem to trust Mr. Ng. He thinks Mr. Ng’s giving Hooligan treats that make him fat.”

  “Yeah—and then there’s these new guys,” Tessa said, “the ones in the suits? Who are they anyway? There were all kinds of people on the lawn Thursday. Maybe they were there, too.”

  “I don’t know who they are,” said Nate. “But it seems illogical for there to be two thieves—too big a coincidence.”

  I was trying to be logical, but I didn’t like where logic was going. To me, it seemed obvious that the person with the best opportunity to steal first the diamond and then the collar was—

  “Mr. Bryant,” Tessa said my thought out loud. “He fits Nate’s math problem. He was around Hooligan and the collar both times. But that doesn’t matter because we know Mr. Bryant didn’t do it.”

  “How do we know?” Nate said.

  “Because he’s Mr. Bryant!” Tessa said.

  “I have an idea,” said Nate. “The first diamond disappeared during the helicopter chase, right? Maybe we can review the videos.

  “Hey!” I said. “I know someone who can help. I can ask her tomorrow at Canine Class.”

  At bedtime, Mom had barely opened our door when Tessa pounced. “Who are those guys in the gray suits, anyway?”

  Mom frowned. “I missed you, too, Muffin.”

  Tessa said, “Sorry, Mama. I love you. Who are those guys in the gray suits?”

  Mom sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed. “I need to tell you both something, but I don’t want you to worry. Canine Class is going to go on tomorrow as usual, but starting tonight, the White House is on heightened security alert. The two men are part of my national security team.”

  Tessa looked at me. “Translation?”

  “She means they’re part of the government, and they’re being extra careful because bad guys might try to do something. Right?”

  “More or less,” Mom said.

  Tessa squealed. “Bad guys?!”

  “Shhh!” Mom put her fingers to Tessa’s lips. “It’s only a precaution. For a few days, the Secret Service will have a little extra help here in the White House. And you girls and your cousin will have to stick around, too. But th
ere’s a silver lining. Dad had been planning to work in California this week, and now he’s going to stay here with us.”

  Sometimes when you’re thinking hard about something, it seems like everything’s connected. “Mom—does the security alert have anything to do with what Tessa and I are investigating?”

  Mom’s expression didn’t change, but she stood up. “What you and Tessa are investigating?” she said. “Well, I should say.”

  I looked over at Tessa. “Was that a yes?”

  “No idea,” said Tessa. “Mom, was that a—” but the question turned into a giggle because Mom was tickling her. “Mama-a-a-a!” She was still giggling. “Sto-o-op!”

  Mom’s tickling became a snuggle and a kiss. Then it was my turn, and then—before we could ask more questions—Mom was heading out the door. “Good night, muffins,” she said. “I love you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  WAS Mr. Bryant a thief?

  Or Mr. Ng?

  And what about the guys in the gray suits?

  Was Mom investigating the missing diamonds?

  And who was giving Hooligan fattening treats?

  All those questions were on my mind when I woke up. But in the kitchen, Granny reminded me about something way more important—my turn to name the canary.

  “How about Singalong?” I tried.

  Before Granny could even express an opinion, Tessa was shaking her head. “No way! That’s the same as Paul Song’s dog. It would be confusing!”

  “Confusing, how? It’s not like the canary will ever even meet Paul Song’s dog.”

  “And besides—” Tessa totally ignored my excellent point—“you stole that idea, Cammie. I think the nameless canary needs an original name, one that’s all his own.”

  Granny sighed. “It should be a name we can agree on at least. Your turn tomorrow, Tessa.”

  The Canine Class topic of the day was “heel,” and Hooligan got it right away. I didn’t want to jinx it by talking about it, but at this rate he for sure was going to be Top Dog.

  With the security alert, all the CBs and CITs had to be double-checked when they entered the White House grounds. Because of that, there was no time before class to arrange help with the videos. It was only when Mr. Mormora practiced with the other dogs that I got my chance.

  Ms. Major and her cockapoo, Pickles, were next to me as usual. Pickles was trying to untie Ms. Major’s shoelaces with his teeth. “Ms. Major,” I said, “did I get it right that you keep track of news stories about us and Hooligan?”

  Ms. Major tried to bump Pickles away without actually kicking him. It looked like she was tap dancing. “Indeed I do,” she said.

  “Then can I ask a favor? Is there a chance my sister, my cousin and I could look at some TV stories from Thursday afternoon?”

  “Sure—there are plenty, and I’d be happy to help.” Ms. Major stopped dancing to check the calendar on her phone. Pickles went back to chewing her laces. “How about one o’clock—right after lunch?”

  “We’ll be there,” I said. “Thanks.”

  Ms. Major’s office is in the West Wing. My mom’s office, the Oval Office, is there, too. Mom’s is really nice, but a lot of the West Wing is so crowded it’s crazy. Almost everyone works in a cubicle, which is a room with no door and thin pretend walls.

  Malik was on duty again, so Tessa, Nate and I had come downstairs with him. Trying to find Ms. Major was like being trapped in a maze. Finally, Malik called out: “Hello-o-o? Ms. Ann Major, are you there?”

  When an answering voice called, “Hello-o-o-o!,” we followed it and found her.

  “Welcome to my world,” Ms. Major said. It was a tiny space with bare walls except for a calendar turned to last January. The picture on it was a German shepherd. There was no place for four people to sit down, so we crowded around her desk. On it were an old, boxy computer, binders, papers and photos of Pickles.

  “As you know, several stations covered the events on Thursday,” she said. “So I pulled up four examples—Fox, CNN, CBS and the local news with Jan and Larry. We could probably find more if you need them.”

  It took us about half an hour to watch the four clips. A lot was the same, of course, but there were differences. Like three of the announcers treated the story mostly like a joke, and one treated it like the whole country had spun out of control. Also there were different views, depending on where the camera guys were standing.

  The longest report was Jan and Larry’s.

  It started with a close-up of Hooligan before he broke his leash, and Jan’s voice saying, “With his diamond dog collar, the presidential pooch sported a glamorous new look this afternoon. But soon thereafter, chaos erupted on the South Lawn!”

  “Ms. Major,” Nate interrupted. “Could you go back over that part, please?”

  “Sure.” She restarted it.

  “Look at that,” Nate said. “When Hooligan turns, you can see all the diamonds—twelve of ’em.”

  What happened next on the video wasn’t a picture, it was noise—the yakking birds. After that, Hooligan took off running with Tessa after him, her hair blowing everywhere, her eyes tearing in the wind.

  “Well, that’s not very flattering,” she said.

  The clip went on to show the parade of pursuers—with a close-up of the vice president—and even a view of flowers being crushed by stomping feet. Jan and Larry took turns narrating. At one point Jan said, “Look at that, Larry. For a time, when he was near the tennis courts, Hooligan eluded his pursuers altogether!”

  “Bingo,” said Nate.

  “Is that what you were after?” Ms. Major asked.

  “Partly,” said Nate, “but keep going.”

  Now the view pulled back to a bunch of confused-looking people searching for Hooligan by the bushes near the garden plot. Among them were Tessa and the vice president, but you couldn’t see Mr. Bryant. Maybe he was there, but he wasn’t in the shot.

  The final few seconds showed Dad’s helicopter landing and then Ms. Kootoor—cameraman catnip—with Hooligan licking her face.

  “I guess all’s well that ends well,” said the voice of Larry.

  “Bow wow to that,” said Jan. “In other news . . .”

  Ms. Major stopped the video on the last frame. Nate pointed to the screen. “See that?” It was another view of Hooligan’s collar, and guess what? A diamond was missing.

  Ms. Major looked at her watch. Like everyone who works for my mom, she must’ve been super busy. “Did you get what you need?”

  “I think so,” I said. “It was really nice of you to help us. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” she said. “Would you like me to e-mail you the links? Then you can watch the stories on your own if you want to.”

  “E-mail them to me,” Nate said. “I’m the only one with a computer in my room.”

  Tessa said, “Must be nice,” and stuck out her tongue when he wasn’t looking.

  Nobody talked as we left the West Wing. Malik was concentrating on finding a route out of the maze. Nate, Tessa and I were putting together what the video had told us. We now knew for sure that Hooligan himself had disappeared for a few minutes. And so had Mr. Bryant. Did the diamond just fall off the collar? Or did somebody take it?

  Tessa said we should flat out ask Mr. Bryant.

  Nate said that was crazy. “If he took it, he’ll lie and say he didn’t. If he didn’t, he’ll be mad we accused him.”

  “He might confess,” Tessa said.

  “Lame,” Nate said.

  “Maybe we need a break,” I said.

  Nate said fine. He was going to find Jeremy and shoot some hoops.

  Tessa said, “I know—how ’bout if we dress Hooligan up in outfits and take pictures?”

  This was not my first-choice idea. But I knew if I said no, she’d want to play Barbies—and that’s worse.

  We found Mr. Bryant and Hooligan in the West Sitting Hall.

  “Be my guest,” Mr. Bryant told us. “But you must promise to keep him
under control. I’ll just get myself a cup of coffee and check back.”

  Hooligan absolutely refused to step into Tessa’s flamingo rain boots. But he didn’t seem to mind the pink kimono, or the plastic pearls.

  “Pretty puppy!” said Tessa, clicking the camera in his face.

  “He’s totally embarrassed,” I said.

  “He likes it!” Tessa said. “Hey, we can send these pictures to the Empress Pu-Chi! She of all dogs would appreciate them.”

  “We can put them in with the thank-you note,” I said.

  Tessa shook her head. “I’m pretty sure—and Aunt Jen will back me up—that when the gift’s been stolen, you don’t have to write a thank-you note.”

  “Really? High five!” I guess it’s true there’s always a bright side.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  MOM had to eat dinner with her advisers in the Oval Office. At bedtime, Dad came in to give us our kisses. Nothing against Dad, but I was really missing my mom.

  The next morning, I woke up even before Granny came in. So did Tessa. “I’ve got a really good name for the canary,” she announced.

  Oh, fine. My mom’s gone AWOL. Bad guys are threatening. Diamonds are missing. And my sister’s all happy because she’s got a name for the canary! Was this supposed to brighten my day?

  When we got to the kitchen, Nate was already there. And so was Ms. Kootoor. I guess one thing about getting up early is you get used to getting up early.

  “This is your moment, Tessa,” I said. “What’s the ‘really good’ name?”

  “Ghanamamma!” she cried.

  I had been expecting to hate it, but instead I cracked up—Nate, too. Then we heard a thump. Ms. Kootoor had been standing by the breakfast table. When I turned, I saw she had dropped her Blueberry Bag—thump—to the floor. Her face looked whiter than usual, too.