Vanished!

  “What should we do about it?” I asked.

  He gave me a look. “Nothing. You’re still on the Chatham case. This is information that we’ll pass along, but it’s not anything you should worry about.”

  He could tell I was disappointed.

  “I mean it, Florian,” he said firmly.

  “Okay,” I replied. “I understand.”

  “Speaking of the Chatham case,” he continued. “Why don’t you update me on the status? Any closer to identifying our prankster?”

  “We’re still where we were the other day,” I said. “Yesterday was a bust but we should be able to figure out a lot on the field trip Monday.”

  “That is, if Florian doesn’t have to spend the whole day hiding from Tanner Caldwell,” said Margaret.

  I gave her a look, but it was nothing like the one that Marcus gave me.

  “Who’s Tanner Caldwell?” he asked.

  “You have a big mouth sometimes,” I said to her.

  “Who’s Tanner Caldwell?” he repeated a little more forcefully.

  I told him all about my run-ins with Tanner, mentioned the fact that he was Senator Caldwell’s son, and recounted the story about him copying off my test and getting suspended. He wasn’t happy that I hadn’t told him, although his disappointment was counterbalanced by how I got my revenge.

  Once we were done, Kayla gave us a ride home and Margaret and I went into the Underground to study the caseboard. We had five people we considered potential suspects: Becca, Victoria, Tanner, Lucy, and Yin. We also thought there was a good chance it was a member—or members—of the Megatherium Club who we didn’t even know. But after about twenty minutes of running through them all, I found myself over at the computer looking up someone else.

  “What are you looking for?” asked Margaret.

  “Henry Lu,” I said.

  “As in the guy that Marcus very specifically told us not to investigate?” she replied.

  “I’m not investigating him,” I said. “I’m just curious why he would treat Yin like that. And since Yin’s a suspect, it’s relevant to our case.”

  She gave me a look but I just ignored it.

  Instead I looked through an archive of his articles. He’d written several about Yin, including a large one called “Prodigy or Propaganda?” that was particularly unfair. But his most common topic was a group called the West Lake Five.

  “Who are they?” asked Margaret.

  “Five journalists who were imprisoned for writing negative articles about corruption in the Chinese government.”

  “So in other words absolutely nothing to do with Yin or our case.”

  “The Theory of All Small Things,” I said. “You never know where you’ll find some TOAST.”

  She laughed. “That’s my cue to leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “Speaking of sounds good,” she replied. “We need to practice our song for the talent show some.”

  “We can squeeze a little in tomorrow,” I said.

  She headed up the stairs to leave and I started reading. It was going to be a long night.

  24.

  Field Trip

  “UGH,” I SAID, SHAKING MY head in disbelief. “This is a total nightmare.”

  “You’re looking at it all wrong,” Margaret replied, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. “Just embrace it. What was it you told me that time? The things that make us different are the things that make us great?”

  “Yeah, well, if that’s true, then my clothes are making me absolutely amazing right now.”

  Since we were going to the symphony, and in my experience you’re supposed to dress up for that, I came to school in a navy blue blazer and herringbone tie. Both Italian. Both stylish. Both completely inappropriate considering all the other seventh and eighth graders were wearing identical outfits of khaki pants with a school polo shirt. Even Margaret, who like me didn’t have a Chatham uniform, came pretty close to matching with khakis and a maroon blouse.

  “How’d you know what color to wear?” I asked.

  “It’s all over the school,” she said. “Logos, jerseys, the giant maroon sign on the stadium saying, ‘You’re now entering Cougar Country.’ ”

  “Pretty big clues,” I admitted. “You’d think someone who fancied himself a detective might have picked up on them.”

  “You’re just not used to American sense of style,” she said. “We’re pretty casual on this side of the Atlantic. But don’t worry about it, people probably won’t notice that much.”

  This of course was a lie, because almost everybody did a double take as we walked to the bus loop. There were four buses in total, and since we were assigned to them alphabetically, Margaret and I were on the one in front.

  Unfortunately, so was Tanner, who was now back from his suspension and ready to renew his role as my personal tormentor. He came up behind me while we were waiting to get on board.

  “It’s good that you’re dressed for a funeral,” he whispered in my ear. “Because you’re going to be the guest of honor at one real soon.”

  I turned to him and tried not to have my voice quiver when I responded, “What do you want, Tanner?”

  “You know what I want,” he said. “Just a chance to teach you a little lesson.”

  I could tell that Margaret was about to jump in, but before she did, another voice interrupted. It was deep and authoritative.

  “Is there a problem?”

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Marcus, only he was dressed like everybody else in khakis and a Chatham polo.

  “Who are you?” asked Tanner.

  “Substitute teacher,” he answered. “They asked me to chaperone. Told me to look out for some punk who’s about to get kicked off the lacrosse team for good. Any idea who that might be?”

  Suddenly, Tanner didn’t seem quite as tough as he did before.

  “So I ask again,” Marcus continued. “Is there a problem here?”

  “No,” he replied.

  “Good,” said Marcus. “Keep it that way.”

  He turned to me and, maintaining the cover that he was a substitute, acted as if we’d never met. “What’s your name?”

  “Florian Bates.”

  “I like the coat and tie, Florian,” he replied. “You wear it well.”

  He gave me a wink and I smiled back. “Thanks.”

  Margaret and I found a seat together in the middle of the bus. I got the evil eye and an “accidental” bump from Tanner as he headed for the back, but that was as bad as it got. Marcus sat in the front next to Ms. Curtis, our algebra teacher. I noticed his seat gave him a clear angle on the mirror so he could keep an eye on things without being obvious.

  “Forget about Tanner,” whispered Margaret. “Work the case. If someone wants to prank Lucy, doing it in front of a crowd at the Kennedy Center would maximize her embarrassment.”

  I nodded and tried to focus.

  We rode the bus for about thirty minutes and I tried to organize the last week in my head. The mystery kept taking surprising turns. First it was about pranks. Then we discovered a secret society. And now there was even a secondary case involving international politics. Add to that my issues with Tanner and it’s no wonder my thinking was a mess.

  “That looks exactly how my brain feels,” I said when we reached the traffic jam of school buses in front of the Kennedy Center. There were dozens of them from across the district and Northern Virginia. “Total congestion.”

  “Just take the clues one bus at a time,” she replied. “They’re all there. You just have to get them to line up.”

  Unlike the crazy quilt of vehicles in front of it, the Kennedy Center was sleek and modern, a massive marble building with a flat overhanging roof held up by slim gold pillars.

  “Make sure you remember which bus is yours,” a teacher reminded us as we exited. “It’ll be parked right here when the concert’s over.”

  Because of the concert sched
ule we had to eat first, even though it was only ten thirty. Schools were assigned lunch zones and I noticed that Chatham got one of the best spots on the giant terrace overlooking the river. This may have been coincidence, but it seemed like the kids at Chatham always ended up with the best of things.

  Margaret and I stood by the railing looking out at the Potomac while I ate my salami sandwich and we discussed the case.

  “Imagine we’re playing Capital Crimes,” she said.

  “This is not going to be another story about how you almost beat me the other day, is it?”

  “No, it’s just an exercise,” she said. “Although I did almost beat you.”

  I gave her a look.

  “Just imagine we’re playing and it’s your turn,” she said. “You’ve got to give it your best guess. Who do you think is guilty?”

  I ran through the suspects in my head. “Becca.”

  She nodded. “Why?”

  “She has the best motive,” I explained. “She asked Lucy to join the Megatherium Club and was embarrassed when she got rejected. She also has the computer skills necessary to crash the server.”

  “And she was in the practice room, so she could have easily crawled through the passageway to pull the fire alarm.”

  “About that,” I said. “I don’t think she would have done that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s really dusty and dirty in there,” I said. “And she’s a germophobe. She uses hand sanitizer nonstop. I just don’t see her crawling through that.”

  “Okay,” said Margaret. “What about Victoria? She had motive because she got passed over for the Megatheriums. And her locker was right next to Lucy’s.”

  “True,” I answered. “But she didn’t have access to the orchestra’s page on Chat Chat and she was in the cafeteria when the fire alarm was pulled. Besides, if we’re going off the people with a locker next to Lucy, Yin is a stronger candidate.”

  We turned back away from the river and looked toward the terrace full of students. It stretched as long as a couple football fields and a cool breeze came up off the water.

  “What are we missing?” I asked. “What pulls it all together?”

  I saw Tanner standing about twenty-five feet from us. He was with Victoria and her friends. I wondered if it could have been all of them working together. They broke rules for everything from dress code to cheating. I’m sure they thought they could get away with whatever they wanted. I absently munched on a chip as I ran through it in my head.

  And that’s when I noticed someone walking inside the long hallway that stretched along the terrace.

  “Where’s Marcus?” I asked urgently.

  “Over there, keeping his eye on Tanner,” she replied, pointing toward him.

  I hurried over.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, trying to catch up with me.

  “I need to speak with you,” I said when I reached him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Just follow me. I need to be sure.”

  I kept a quick pace striding through the different school groups and trying to keep track of the man in the hall. The entire wall was made up of giant windows and glass doors so even though he was inside, I could see him clearly. Marcus and Margaret were right behind me.

  Finally I stopped when we were close to him. He was alone, looking around as if he wanted to make sure no one saw him.

  “Okay, can you tell me what’s up?”

  I motioned inside the building and asked, “Why is Henry Lu here?”

  25.

  Red, White, and Blue

  (Hóng Bái Lán)

  IT WAS A TRICKY SITUATION because we couldn’t just go up to Henry Lu and demand to know what he was doing there. After all, we were undercover as two exchange students and a substitute teacher. We didn’t have any authority. Still, Marcus got word to the security staff and they followed up on it. Lu told them he’d gotten a press pass to cover the concert so he could write about it in the Daily Dragon. A call to the Kennedy Center press office confirmed this.

  “I still think he might be up to something,” I said to Marcus. “He’s written at least seven articles about Yin, and they’re all negative.”

  “Seven?” said Marcus. “That’s a pretty specific number. You do remember the part where I told you not to investigate him. You’re only supposed to be looking into the pranks at Chatham, not Henry Lu.”

  “I wasn’t investigating . . . him,” I replied. “I was just reading about Yin to see if there was anything I could learn that might help with the case I am working on.”

  Marcus gave me a dubious look but he let it pass.

  “I’ll worry about Lu,” he said. “You stick with the pranks at Chatham.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “I mean it, Florian.”

  “So do I,” I replied. “I’ll stick with the pranks.”

  After we finished lunch we all filed into the concert hall. It was stunningly beautiful. The brochure I picked up in the hallway said it held nearly twenty-five hundred people, and the lower level was packed. There were three balconies that ringed the edge of the auditorium and a special presidential box for the first family that appeared to be empty. Although I wondered if Lucy’s mom had come down to listen to the concert but was staying out of sight until it began.

  Because Yin was one of our classmates and he was the star of the show, Chatham got prime seating. We filed into rows ten and eleven. It took me a couple minutes to find Henry Lu sitting five rows in front of us along the aisle.

  “Look,” I said, pointing him out to Margaret. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

  Before I could say something else, someone flicked me hard in the back of the head.

  “Where’s your guardian angel, Alice?”

  I turned to see that Tanner was sitting directly behind me. He went to flick me again, this time in the face, but I reached up and grabbed his finger. I gave it a firm squeeze and started twisting it, a little trick Kayla had taught me at Quantico. It seemed to get his attention.

  “I don’t need a guardian angel to outsmart you,” I said as forcefully as I could, all the while continuing to twist his finger. “There’s no doubt you could beat me up if you wanted to. But I’ve got some bad news. I’ll heal quickly, but ten years from now you’re still going to be dumb as an ox.”

  Margaret just started laughing and Tanner grimaced in pain as I continued twisting his middle finger.

  “Let go,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Do we understand each other?” I asked him.

  “Let . . . go.”

  “I asked you a question, and I made it simple so you could follow. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yes,” he gasped.

  “Wonderful,” I replied as I released his finger and he recoiled back in his seat. “Now stop bugging me. I’m here to enjoy the concert.”

  For the first time I noticed that some of the kids around him were watching our little exchange and now he was the one they were snickering about.

  “Nice,” Margaret said under her breath as I turned back around. She gave me a little fist bump down low where no one else could see it. It felt good but I wondered if I’d just stirred up the hornet’s nest. I could just imagine him kicking me in the back of the head halfway through the concert.

  Even though they were behind the curtain, we could hear the orchestra tuning their instruments.

  “I love this part,” said Margaret, savoring it. “It’s like you can hear a storm coming.”

  That’s when I noticed an empty seat. “Wait a second. Where’d he go?”

  “Who?” answered Margaret.

  “Henry Lu,” I said. “He’s gone.”

  “Think he moved up to a better seat?” she asked.

  “He was in the fifth row,” I replied. “What could be better than that?”

  I scanned the room and didn’t see him anywhere. I didn’t see Marcus, either. I wanted to get word to him so I s
ent him a quick text that said Lu had gone. Before I could come up with anything else, the tuning stopped, the lights dimmed, and the curtain rose.

  The audience clapped when they saw the musicians. Lucy was sitting in the front row with the rest of the cello section, and Becca was a couple rows back and on the other side with the flutes.

  “Where’s Yin?” I asked, a little panicked.

  “He’s the soloist, so they’ll give him a separate introduction,” whispered Margaret.

  “Oh,” I said. “That’s cool.”

  The conductor walked out to his podium. He was tall and lanky, his longish gray hair slightly unkempt. He turned to the audience and smiled warmly.

  “Welcome, my name is Roger Samuel,” he said. “My two favorite things are music and young people. It has been my good fortune to spend most of my adult life working with both. And in all that time, I’ve never met anyone quite like the young man I am about to introduce to you. Whether he’s playing the cello or composing a concerto, he makes the world more beautiful with his music. It’s my honor and privilege to present to you today’s composer and soloist, Yin Yae.”

  Yin strode out toward center stage carrying his cello and there was a nice round of applause, especially from the Chatham section of the auditorium.

  “Thank you,” he said from the podium. “I know you came to hear us play and not to hear me talk, but I want to take a moment to thank everyone with the orchestra for this opportunity. We are going to play three compositions today. Their names are ‘Red,’ ‘White,’ and ‘Blue.’ Or as we say in Mandarin, ‘Hóng,’ ‘Bái,’ and ‘Lán.’ They were inspired by my time in this lovely country. I hope you enjoy them.”

  There was more applause as Yin moved to his soloist’s position in front of the violins. The conductor stood up at the podium, checked to make sure everyone was ready, and then lifted his baton.

  The music was amazing. The fact that it was performed by students my age and a little older was impressive. The fact that it had all been composed by Yin was extraordinary. Now I understood what everybody meant when they said he was unlike anyone they’d met before. I loved watching his expression while he played. His concentration was impossible to miss. The same went for Lucy and Becca. Seeing them like this gave me an entirely different perception of who they were.