The Mystery in Washington, D.C. Read online

  “It looks great,” Violet said. They ate quietly for a few minutes, and then Violet spoke up. “I really felt sorry for Mrs. Parsons last night. Mrs. Wentworth was furious, and she put all the blame on her.”

  “What do you mean?” Peter looked puzzled.

  She quickly told him about the missing brooch. “And it never turned up,” she finished. “We practically tore the living room apart looking for it.”

  “I … I didn’t know about any of this.” Peter reached for a glass of orange juice. “It’s too bad Mrs. Parsons got blamed.”

  “The sad part is that the brooch isn’t even valuable,” Violet added.

  “It’s not?” he asked. “Usually those old-fashioned cameos are collectors’ items. They’re worth a gold mine.”

  “Not this one. Mrs. Wentworth said that it’s not expensive, but it’s been in her family for years.”

  The other guests then trooped into the dining room for breakfast, and Peter quickly cleared his place. Violet greeted everyone and then excused herself. She wanted to dash upstairs and reload her camera before the day’s outing.

  As she hurried down the hall, she noticed that the door to room six was open, and she glanced inside. She was surprised to see Mr. Sudderth, the artist, standing by the window. He was staying in room ten right next to hers. What was he doing in someone else’s room? she wondered. She walked away quickly before he could spot her. Another puzzle, she thought to herself.

  She grabbed her camera and film from her room, and was starting down the stairs when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Cooley coming out of their room. “Oh, I’m so glad I caught you,” she said.

  Mrs. Cooley immediately looked on her guard. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

  “Well, I … I …” Violet faltered, feeling embarrassed. Why was Mrs. Cooley so annoyed? “I just meant, I need some help loading my camera, and I hoped you wouldn’t mind — ”

  Mr. Cooley looked worried and reached for the camera. “Let me see it.” He turned the camera over in his hand and exchanged a look with his wife. “I think the first thing we need to do is — ”

  “Oh, come on,” his wife interrupted. “We’re going to be late for breakfast.” She took the camera out of his hand and returned it to Violet. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else to help you. We’re on a very tight schedule.”

  Before Violet could say another word, they hurried down the hall. What was all that about? Violet wondered. They acted like they had something to hide!

  The children spent the morning visiting the Bureau of Engraving, which Benny called “the money factory.” It was at the far end of the Mall, by the Washington Monument.

  “Whose picture is on a five-dollar bill?” Violet said playfully as they lined up for the tour.

  Benny thought for a moment. “Washington!” Violet shook her head and he tried again. “No, wait, it’s Lincoln!”

  “That’s right,” Henry said. “Here’s a tougher one. Who’s on a fifty-dollar bill?”

  “I know that one,” Jessie spoke up. “It’s Grant. And the United States Capitol is on the back.”

  “How did you know that?” Benny was impressed.

  “Because there’s one on display on the wall.” Jessie giggled. “I’ve got a really tough question for you. Who’s on a two-dollar bill, Amira?”

  Amira hesitated. “That’s a trick question. There are no two-dollar bills.”

  “No, they do exist. You just don’t see them much.” Henry pointed to a two-dollar bill that was framed and mounted. “See, here’s one. It has Thomas Jefferson on it.”

  Amira nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking,” she agreed.

  With Benny in the lead, they marched down a narrow observation corridor lined with glass walls. From their vantage point, they watched as dozens of workers printed sheets of bright green money.

  “Look at all the dollar bills coming off the press!” Benny shouted excitedly. His nose was squished against the glass. “How come the money is all stuck together?”

  “It’s not stuck. Money is printed that way,” Violet said. “See, there’s thirty-two bills on every sheet.”

  “It would be hard to carry it around like that in your pocket,” Benny joked. “You’d have to fold it over and over.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re going to cut and trim the sheets into single bills,” Violet added.

  “Oh, look over here,” Jessie said, moving down the line. “They’re cutting each sheet in half and … I wonder what he’s doing?”

  They watched as a young man scanned a sheet of bills for defects.

  “I think he’s inspecting it,” Henry said.

  “What for?” Benny wondered. “Could somebody make a mistake and print the wrong number?”

  “Not the wrong number,” Henry explained, “but there could be other mistakes.”

  “Like what?” Benny was fascinated.

  “Well, the dye might be off a little. And that would make the color too light or too dark.” He pointed to a pile of bills that were lying off to one side. They were very pale green.

  “I just thought of something.” Benny tugged at Amira’s sleeve. “How come people can’t just make their own money?”

  Amira laughed. “Well, for one thing, it’s against the law. That’s called counterfeit money.”

  “Like we use in Monopoly?”

  “Something like that. Anyway, even if you could print your own money, you’d never fool anyone, Benny. You’d never get it to look exactly right.”

  Benny frowned, concentrating. “I guess it would be pretty hard to draw all those presidents,” he said finally.

  “You’d have to be a real artist,” Violet told him. “Look at that pretty hand-engraved plate on display. See how perfect each detail is? That’s what they use as a model.”

  They quickly finished the rest of the tour and found themselves on Fifteenth Street, at the west edge of the Mall.

  “That was fun!” Benny said, scampering down the steps. “Can we go there next? He pointed to the Washington Monument that was just a couple of blocks away. “It looks like a big exclamation point.”

  “There are an awful lot of steps,” Henry said. He checked the guidebook he always carried with him. “Eight hundred ninety-eight, to be exact.”

  Benny grinned. “I’m ready.”

  Amira nudged him. “He’s only kidding you, Benny,” she said. “There’s an elevator.”

  “Oh, darn, the stairs would be more fun.” Benny ran ahead, waiting at the stoplight for the others to catch up with him.

  “How long will it take?” Benny asked a few minutes later. They were cramped together inside the elevator that would whisk them to the top of the Washington Monument.

  “Only a minute.” Henry glanced at his watch.

  “Oh, there goes my stomach!” Violet said as the elevator suddenly sprang to life. It seemed to shoot skyward at a dizzying speed, and then it stopped and the doors flew open.

  “That’s it?” Benny was hoping for a longer ride.

  “Now’s the fun part,” Jessie told him. “They have viewing windows on the top floor and we can see all of Washington.”

  Henry and the girls drifted off to look out an east window to the Capitol, and Benny fumbled in his pocket for his toy binoculars. Violet had told him that he could see all the way to Maryland and Virginia if he pointed them in the right direction. He lifted the binoculars, and caught a glimpse of the gleaming white Jefferson Memorial and the Potomac River. Then, with the binoculars still in place, he raced to another window and saw the Lincoln Memorial. “Wow, this is fun,” he said out loud. He peered out still another window and did a double-take when he saw a beautiful white mansion. “Ohmigosh!” He stood on tiptoe to get a closer look. “It’s the White House!”

  He spun around to tell the others when something large and black blocked his view. He took a step backwards, pressing himself against the wall. His fingers trembled on the binoculars when he realized what he was
seeing — a man in a dark suit, with sunglasses!

  Quick as a flash, Benny darted around him, and headed for Henry and the girls, who had their backs to him.

  “Jessie!” he said, when he reached them. “We have to leave. Right now!”

  “What’s wrong?” Violet asked. “We just got here.” But then something in Benny’s expression made her freeze.

  “Over there,” he hissed. “It was one of the men in dark suits. They’re still after us!”

  Henry spun around, but a group of tourists blocked his view. “Where, Benny?” he asked urgently.

  “By that window,” Benny whispered, pointing. “He’s standing right in front of it.”

  The crowd cleared then, and Henry started walking rapidly toward the window. He stopped after a few feet, though, and scanned the room. It was too late. The man in the dark suit was gone.

  CHAPTER 6

  Where’s Benny?

  “We can’t go on pretending nothing’s wrong,” Violet said later that evening. They had just finished dinner and all four Aldens were sitting in a tiny garden behind the house. “Amira is bound to notice the men in sunglasses herself.”

  “I’m surprised she hasn’t already,” Henry said. “They’ve been trailing us for two days.”

  “Trailing us, or trailing Amira?” Jessie turned to face him. They were sitting on wrought-iron chairs around a small umbrella table.

  “Good point,” Henry answered. “We’ve always been with her, so there’s no way to tell.”

  “Today was a close call,” Violet said. She shivered a little even though it was a warm evening. The scene with Benny at the Washington Monument had really shaken her up. The man in sunglasses had been just inches away from Benny — what if he had reached out and grabbed him! The Aldens had stayed calm, finished the tour of the Monument, and then moved on to another museum on the Mall. Amira had never suspected a thing.

  Suddenly Peter Marshall called to them from the kitchen. He was holding the screen door open with his elbow and balancing a huge bowl of popcorn. “We’re playing cards in the dining room. Want to join us?”

  “Sounds great!” Benny bounded to his feet and dashed across the grass. A few minutes later, everyone was settled around the dining room table playing gin rummy.

  Violet stopped in the kitchen to get a glass of lemonade, and Mrs. Parsons drew her aside. “Would you mind bringing out some drinks for the others? I’m just too upset to think straight tonight.” Mrs. Parsons looked very worried, and was rubbing her hands anxiously on her apron.

  “I’ll be glad to, but what’s wrong?” asked Violet. Mrs. Parsons sat down slowly at the kitchen table, and Violet pulled up a chair next to her.

  “There’s been another … disappearance,” Mrs. Parsons said in a low voice. “And this time it isn’t money or stamps, it’s travelers checks. The Bartletts — the young couple in room six — just came down to tell me.”

  “Room six?” Violet nearly gasped. John Sudderth had been snooping there that morning!

  Mrs. Parsons nodded. “It’s such a shame. They say they left them on the dresser, and now they’re gone. What could have happened to them?” She glanced toward the dining room. “Surely no one in this house would have taken them.”

  Violet hesitated. Should she mention that John Sudderth had been in room six? Was he a thief? Or could he possibly have had a good reason for being there? Before she could decide what to do, Peter Marshall called for something to drink, and Violet quickly began making lemonade.

  For the next half hour, everyone played cards, and Violet waited for an opportunity to speak to her sister and brothers about John Sudderth. She was all set to duck into the kitchen with them, when Claire Bartlett burst into the dining room.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Parsons,” she said all smiles. “Look what I found!” She was waving a wad of travelers’ checks in a navy blue holder.

  “Where were they?” Mrs. Parsons looked relieved.

  “Somehow they had slipped down between the drawer and the dresser.” She smiled at her husband who came up behind her. “You have no idea how much better I feel!”

  “Me too,” Mrs. Parsons muttered. Violet sank back a little in her seat. At least one mystery was solved!

  Later that evening, Jessie was helping Mrs.

  Parsons lock up, when she heard a faint mewing at the front door. “Do you have a cat?” Jessie called to Mrs. Parsons.

  “Oh, that’s Farrah,” Mrs. Parsons answered. “Would you let her in for me? She must have sneaked out when I was bringing in the lawn chairs.”

  Jessie opened the front door and a graceful Siamese cat darted past her legs into the kitchen. She was about to close the door when she heard a car engine idling somewhere on the darkened street. Suddenly the noise became louder and Violet realized that the driver was cruising past the row of brick houses — in the pitch dark! Why would anyone drive with no lights? She pretended to close the door, but kept it cracked open a couple of inches. She watched as a long black limousine paused in front of the Parsons’, and then crept slowly down the street. It was impossible to see who was inside because of the darkness, but Violet had a strong hunch.

  It had to be the men in sunglasses.

  The next day, the Aldens and Amira were ready to leave the house, when Mrs. Parsons stopped them. “Could you do me a big favor?” she asked. “I could really use a roll of stamps.” She handed Henry thirty dollars. “I was sure I had some of the astronaut stamps left, but I can’t find them anywhere.”

  “We’ll be glad to get some,” Henry told her. He turned and bumped into John Sudderth, who was standing in the hall. “Sorry, sir,” he said politely.

  “That’s okay.” The artist’s voice was gruff. A batch of letters tumbled out of his jacket. As Henry bent down to help retrieve them, something colorful caught his eye. The envelopes had astronaut stamps on them — just like the ones Mrs. Parsons liked. Was it just a coincidence? he wondered. Why would Mr. Sudderth steal a roll of stamps?

  Half an hour later, the Aldens and Amira were strolling down Embassy Row, admiring the colorful flags. “Oh, look,” Amira pointed out, “there’s the French flag.”

  “It’s red, white, and blue, just like ours,” Benny pointed out.

  “And there’s Italy, England, and Switzerland,” Amira added.

  “I recognize the Swiss flag,” Jessie said. “It’s the one with the white cross on the red background. But what’s the green one?” She pointed to an unusual flag with a red stripe and a black stripe and an eagle in the middle.

  “Oh, that’s Egypt.” Amira, as usual, was right. When they reached the building, a small plaque said EGYPTIAN EMBASSY.

  “You really know a lot about foreign countries,” Violet said admiringly.

  Amira looked embarrassed. “I’m interested in geography.” She quickly lowered her eyes to her guidebook.

  “And I see someone who’s interested in us!” Benny blurted out. He pointed to a long black limousine that swung around the corner and crawled along the boulevard, keeping pace with them.

  They quickly crossed the street, heading to the Smithsonian, and Henry came to a decision. “Amira,” he said gently, “a limousine has been following us for days. You don’t know anything about it, do you?”

  Amira looked startled by his question. “How … how would I know anything about it?” she said softly. Two faint spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “There must be hundreds of long black limousines in the city.”

  “But we keep seeing the same one,” Henry said grimly. “The people inside must be after something.”

  “Maybe they’re after us,” Benny whispered. He moved a little closer to Violet.

  “Are you sure you don’t know anything about it?” Henry asked Amira again.

  “Yes,” Amira said quickly.

  “Where shall we go today?” Violet said to change the subject.

  “First let’s stop here at the Museum of American History,” Jessie suggested.

  �
�Where shall we go first?” Amira asked, once they were inside the museum.

  “The First Ladies’ dresses,” Violet said promptly.

  A few minutes later, Violet skipped down a red carpet, exclaiming, “I feel like I’m in the White House!” The entrance to the dress exhibit was designed to look like a White House reception room, with crossed flags, crystal chandeliers, and gilt mirrors. They passed under a huge presidential seal and found themselves in a dimly lit maze of rooms filled with mannequins wearing the First Ladies’ dresses.

  “Look,” Jessie said in an awe-struck tone, “there’s Mrs. Lincoln’s dress. It’s beautiful.”

  “Why is it so dark in here?” Benny said.

  “Light damages the dresses,” Jessie explained. “Some of the fabrics are very old.”

  Benny moved restlessly ahead of the others. He was starting to get hungry.

  Violet was reading a plaque about preserving the dresses, when she froze. Standing right behind Benny was one of the men in sunglasses! Apparently, he didn’t realize that she could see him reflected in the darkened glass.

  “Benny,” she started to say, but the words caught in her throat when she realized it was too late. Benny had just scampered past a potted fern, and disappeared down another dark corridor. The man in the sunglasses seemed to be following him, and Violet put her hand to her mouth. Should she go after them? Or should she alert the others? There was no time to think!

  Just then, Amira edged up to her to look at a dress.

  “Listen,” Violet said, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Go get the others. The men in sunglasses are back, and they’re after Benny!”

  “What?” Amira looked shaken.

  “Just get them!” Violet hissed. Before Amira could even reply, Violet took off at a dead run. She had to get to Benny in time!

  CHAPTER 7

  Another Theft!

  Violet raced past glass-walled rooms filled with mannequins, her heart beating in her throat. Where was Benny? The dim corridors and narrow passages seemed to have swallowed him up. The shadowy halls and smoky glass made everything look scary and confusing. Nothing was what it seemed to be. Violet rounded a corner, and nearly bumped into her own reflection. “Benny!” she cried out anxiously.