Vanished!

  “What do you think?” I whispered to Margaret.

  “Spellbinding,” she said, and it was not an exaggeration.

  It was so good it pushed the mystery out of my mind. I just lost myself in the music. I didn’t think about the pranks or Henry Lu. I didn’t worry about Tanner or the Megatherium Club. I just listened.

  I know that Margaret saw a similarity between what I did with mysteries and what Yin did with music, but to me there was none. I saw things that other people didn’t, and I recognized that that had a certain value. But Yin created something that would otherwise not exist. And that was unique. Like the conductor said, he made the world more beautiful than it would have been without him.

  Applause filled the concert hall when they finished the first composition, which ended with a very dramatic run of string music and timpani drums. I could even hear Tanner clapping behind me.

  “Wow,” said Margaret. “Just wow.”

  Yin stood up and took a bow and there was more applause. I was so happy for him. He motioned to the conductor, who handed him the microphone.

  “That was ‘Red,’ ” he told us. “We are going to take a brief intermission and when we come back we will play ‘White’ and ‘Blue.’ Thank you so much for your generous reaction.”

  He handed the microphone back to the conductor and strode off the stage.

  With the performance temporarily on hold, I reverted to mystery mode. I checked and saw that Henry Lu’s seat was still empty. He’d left before the first note was played and never returned. I couldn’t figure out what he was up to. Why bother coming down if he wasn’t even going to listen to the music? Everyone headed out to the hallway for intermission and I looked for Marcus without any luck.

  The fear was that the next prank would happen during the performance so Margaret and I wanted to keep an eye on Victoria and Tanner. Victoria’s group still gave us the cold shoulder, but as far as we could tell they were all there in a cluster talking. Tanner, meanwhile, had disappeared into the crowd. The part of me that didn’t want to deal with him was pleased by this development. The detective part was not.

  “Okay, Yin’s performance was number one for the day,” Margaret said when we were off by ourselves. “But your smackdown of Tanner was a close second. I’m so proud of you.”

  I grinned. “It was pretty good, wasn’t it? I just couldn’t have you come to my rescue again.”

  My phone buzzed and I looked down to see a message from Marcus.

  “What is it?”

  “Marcus wants us to meet him down by the stage.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said to meet him there.”

  We went back into the auditorium and headed toward the stage. There were students everywhere and a low roar of talking filled the room. We saw Marcus down in front on the left-hand side.

  “Excuse us,” I said as we tried to work our way through a crowd of middle schoolers.

  As we got closer I could read his expression. He had that laser-focus look that surfaced when it was time for action.

  “Something’s wrong,” Margaret said when she saw it too.

  “Yes, it is,” I replied.

  I was less polite as we pushed through the last groups until we broke free. Finally we reached him and he led us to a door to the backstage area.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Just wait,” he said.

  He closed the door behind us and made sure we were alone. We were in a small hallway with two doors and an elevator.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked more forcefully.

  “Yin,” he said. “He’s vanished.”

  26.

  The Unfinished Symphony

  UNLIKE THE CONCERT HALL, THE backstage area was anything but elegant. Instead of marble hallways and plush carpet, there were cinder-block walls and concrete floors. Metal cabinets, wooden lockers, and large black travel cases on wheels filled most rooms. And as we followed Marcus we had to snake our way through the “piano garage,” where three grand pianos were arranged like interlocking puzzle pieces.

  Finally we reached a dressing room with Yin’s name written on a piece of tape stuck to the door. Marcus knocked quickly but didn’t wait for a response before entering.

  “Excuse me, but you’ll need to keep out of here,” said a voice from within.

  It was the conductor, and before Marcus could respond, a woman spoke up.

  “No, he’s supposed to be here,” she said.

  I stepped into the room and saw that it was Malena Sanchez from Lucy’s Secret Service team. Also in the room were Lucy and Mrs. Chiang. Both looked upset. Margaret shut the door behind us once we were all in.

  “This is Special Agent Marcus Rivers of the FBI,” continued Malena. “I’ve asked him to take over the scene. The FBI’s much better equipped for this than the Secret Service.”

  Once everyone was satisfied with Marcus being in the room, they turned their attention to Margaret and me. Malena almost blew our cover when she said, “And these two are—”

  “Friends of Yin’s,” interrupted Marcus. “They were with him this past weekend when he had a threatening encounter with a man who was in attendance today. Margaret is my niece and told me about it. I’ve asked them to come so they might be able to shed some light on what is obviously a fluid situation.”

  “He was here today?” Mrs. Chiang asked us. “The man from the Daily Dragon?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “He was seated in the fifth row, but he got up and left before the concert even began.”

  “Maybe he came backstage to hurt Yin,” she suggested.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” cautioned Marcus. “The man’s name is Henry Lu and he had press credentials to cover the concert. I saw him answer a phone call and get up to leave. For all we know he was called away on a different story. We will definitely pursue that lead, but right now let’s go over what we know for certain.”

  “Tell him what happened,” Malena said to Mr. Samuel, the conductor.

  “Five minutes into intermission I came back to congratulate Yin on his performance so far,” he said. “He wasn’t here, which seemed unusual, but I wasn’t worried until I came back a few minutes later and he was still missing. Then I noticed this.”

  He pointed to a folder containing Yin’s sheet music. A blue sticky note was on the outside. Written on it was:

  HELP

  KEY

  BRIDGE

  Margaret and I shared a nervous look.

  “So you thought that someone might have taken him, but in the process he managed to leave us a clue?”

  “I didn’t know what to think,” he said. “I just went to Agent Sanchez and alerted her.”

  “That was smart,” said Marcus. “Other than that, are there any signs of a struggle, anything out of the ordinary?”

  “No. Everything else is exactly where it’s supposed to be.”

  “We need to get to the bridge,” said Mrs. Chiang. “We need someone at the Key Bridge looking for him.”

  “It’s already taken care of,” said Marcus. “The instant Agent Sanchez contacted me, I alerted the FBI. She mentioned the note so I had a team sent to the bridge and another is headed here to help. They should arrive at any moment.”

  “Good,” she said, reassured.

  “Who else knows he’s missing?” asked Marcus.

  “Just the people in this room,” answered Malena.

  “And whoever took him,” added Mrs. Chiang.

  “Right,” Marcus said coolly. “I understand you’re upset, but again I want to caution you on assuming the worst.”

  Marcus thought for a moment and turned to the conductor.

  “How long have you been in intermission?”

  “Seventeen minutes,” he said, checking his watch. “It was only scheduled for fifteen so I’m sure the musicians are getting curious.”

  “We want to minimize how many people know. So I thi
nk the first thing to do is get the orchestra back onstage performing. Otherwise we have fifteen hundred middle school students getting restless and asking questions.”

  “We can’t go onstage,” Lucy interrupted. “Not without Yin. He’s the soloist.”

  “No one else can play his part?” asked Marcus.

  “You could, Lucy,” said the conductor. “You’re more than capable.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, nervous.

  “I do,” he replied confidently.

  “Do that,” said Marcus. “Get back onstage, announce that Yin is feeling sick but that Lucy is going to step in for him.”

  “Okay,” said the conductor.

  Things were moving quickly, but Marcus had a calming effect on everybody.

  “I need to alert the embassy,” said Mrs. Chiang.

  Marcus thought about this for a moment and realized he couldn’t stop her. “Of course you do. But I would ask two things. First of all, try to keep what you tell them to the facts that we know are certain. The truth is bad enough; there’s no need to escalate it. Second, ask them to work with our office before making any announcements.”

  “My husband works in the press office,” she said. “I’ll explain the situation to him.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he pulled a business card out of his wallet. “This is the press liaison director for the FBI. Tell your husband he can call her directly whenever he wants.”

  She went off to a corner to make the call, and Lucy started talking through the music with the conductor. This left a brief window for Malena to come over to us and speak in hushed tones.

  “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but I think you have to consider the possibility that he left on his own.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “There’s no sign of a struggle,” she answered. “And that hallway out there’s pretty crowded. It’d be hard not to notice him being dragged out of here.”

  “My thinking exactly,” said Marcus.

  “But there’s another thing,” she said. She looked back over her shoulder to make sure no one could hear her. “Remember when I told you I took Mandarin in college?” she asked me.

  I smiled at the memory. “Yes.”

  “It’s a complex language that relies on accent, emphasis, and specific characters for precision,” she said. “When Yin translated the titles of the three compositions . . .”

  “ ‘Red,’ ‘White,’ and ‘Blue,’ ” said Margaret.

  “Right,” answered Malena. “He used very literal translations. I mean, the titles on the sheet music and the program are the Mandarin words for ‘red,’ ‘white,’ and ‘blue.’ But what he actually said sounded more like the words for ‘terror,’ ‘sadness,’ and ‘difficult.’ ”

  “What does that mean?” asked Marcus.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I just know that’s what he said.”

  “We better get back out there,” the conductor announced. “It’s already been twenty minutes.”

  “That’s my cue,” Malena said to us. “I go where she goes.”

  “Thanks for the help,” Marcus replied. “We’ve got this.”

  “I need to take the sheet music,” Lucy said. “Yin’s copy is the only one with the solo on it.”

  “Can you leave the folder?” asked Marcus.

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let me get it for you.”

  He flipped open the folder with a pencil, careful not to disturb any potential fingerprints. He looked to make sure there were no other clues and then picked up the music and handed it to her.

  “Here you go.”

  Ever since we’d entered the room, it seemed as if Lucy were avoiding eye contact with me. I don’t know if she was suspicious about why I was involved or if it was just that she was upset about what had happened. Still, as she left the room, I tried to give her an encouraging smile.

  She walked right by me without reacting.

  Mrs. Chiang left too so that she could continue her conversation in private. That left Margaret and me alone in the room with Marcus. He locked the door to ensure no one came in on us.

  “Okay, we’ve got to think fast,” he said. “If word of this gets out, it’s an instant media circus and that helps no one.”

  “I still think it’s significant that Henry Lu disappeared before the concert even started,” I said. “Maybe Mrs. Chiang was right and he came backstage to lie in wait for Yin.”

  “I’m suspicious of it too,” he said. “But I don’t want the Chinese embassy to sound the alarm so I downplayed it. I already have two agents looking for Henry Lu. They’re good and they will find him.”

  “Excellent,” said Margaret.

  “Okay, look at this,” I said, pointing at the blue sticky note. “The swirl at the top of the P in ‘HELP’ and the bottom of the Y in ‘KEY’ go over the edge of the paper.”

  They both examined the note.

  “It’s a small square. He was probably frantic. So he went over the edge,” said Margaret. “There’s nothing suspicious about that.”

  “No, I don’t think it’s suspicious,” I replied. “But in both places the ink should have left a mark on the folder.”

  Marcus smiled when he saw where I was headed. “That means he wrote the note somewhere else and then stuck it here.”

  “Or that maybe someone else like Henry Lu wrote the note,” I suggested. “And is trying to send us in the wrong direction.”

  “You know who else it could be?” said Margaret. “Loki.”

  Marcus and I both gave her a look.

  “You think Loki’s moved from pulling fire alarms to kidnapping?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “But when I was at Girl Scout camp one summer, some girls pulled a prank where they put something in a girl’s food that made her have to go to the bathroom. When she did, they locked her in and left her there for three hours.”

  “And you didn’t help her?” I asked. Then I saw her expression and realized a different explanation. “Oh wait, you were the girl.”

  “It’s not important to pinpoint the victim,” she said. “I just think Loki might have done something like that to Yin. He could be locked in a bathroom somewhere.”

  Marcus let out a frustrated grunt. “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “That’s the case we’re dealing with. He could be locked in a bathroom as a prank, kidnapped as a political prisoner, or somewhere in between. There are just too many options.”

  “What should we do first?” I asked.

  “We have to stay here until the team arrives to lock down the room,” he said. “And we have to be careful not to touch anything. So look around, carefully, for any possible clues. It’s time to employ the Theory of All Small Things to maximum effect.”

  The problem was there just weren’t that many places to look. The room was nice for a dressing room, but it wasn’t exactly big. I opened a closet and it was empty.

  “Where are his clothes?” I asked

  “What do you mean?” asked Marcus.

  “Don’t you think he’d have clothes to change into after the concert? Something other than the tuxedo?”

  “I don’t know,” said Margaret. “I’ve been in orchestras where most of the people come already dressed.”

  “I’d think he’d at least have his Orioles cap,” I said.

  “Good point.”

  “The one he had on in the pictures we saw,” said Marcus.

  “He wears it everywhere,” I said. “At Chatham the students have to wear a uniform, and the second the final bell rings, he reaches into his backpack, pulls it out, and puts it on. It’s almost like a security blanket.”

  “And it’s not in the closet?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s in the cello case,” he suggested.

  Marcus took out his car keys and used them to flick open the latches on the case so he wouldn’t ruin any fingerprints. Then he
carefully opened it.

  “Is it in there?” Margaret asked.

  “No,” he said. “Just the cello.”

  “Marcus,” someone said, knocking on the door. “It’s Kayla.”

  He unlocked the door and opened it. She was there with four agents. Marcus gave them a quick rundown of the situation, but before he could do much more, one of the agents spoke up.

  “We appreciate your help,” he said. “We’ll take it from here.”

  Just like that, the other agent started barking orders. He instructed one agent to seal off the room we were in and told another to find a space they could make a command post. It was all happening quickly.

  I couldn’t read Marcus. I don’t think he was ready to hand things over to someone else but he didn’t make the slightest protest. I was still trying to read his reaction when the agent pointed at Margaret and me.

  “Who are they?”

  “Friends of the victim,” Marcus replied. “They witnessed an incident that may be linked.”

  “Have we taken their statement?”

  “Yes,” he told them.

  The agent looked directly at us and said, “Thank you for your help. You’ll have to leave now.”

  And just like that we were off the case.

  27.

  A Different Type of Expert

  MARGARET AND I WERE WITH Kayla in a cavernous backstage room. The walls were covered with giant posters of past Kennedy Center events, and a basketball hoop was attached to an overhanging balcony. Since the orchestra had resumed playing, we couldn’t really get back to our seats without attracting attention. So we just stood there trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events.

  “What just happened?” asked Margaret.

  “A CARD team has taken over the investigation,” explained Kayla. “That stands for Child Abduction Rapid Deployment team. As soon as the Bureau determines a minor’s been kidnapped, they’re given total control of the situation. This is their area of expertise.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I still think we can help. We’ve already found a couple clues and we’re familiar with Yin and the situation.”