“I think I know what happened,” said Benny.
Everyone turned to Benny.
“Remember Charles was sitting right near us on the plane, and he had a red backpack just like mine?” Benny said.
“That’s right!” said Jessie. “He did.”
Benny went on, “The backpacks were both in the overhead bin during the flight and—”
“And I put the brooch in the wrong backpack,” said a voice in the doorway.
Everyone turned to see Charles standing there, his head down.
“Charles, what is going on?” Mrs. Scherr demanded.
“I’m so sorry, Lauren. I never meant for this to happen,” said Charles. “I went to the auction and bought the brooch, just as I told you on the telephone. But I was so excited I wanted to bring it back myself to surprise you. So I caught an earlier flight. Midway through the flight I took the brooch out to make sure it was safe, and then I returned it to my backpack. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I’d put it in the wrong bag. I’m so scatterbrained sometimes.”
“You certainly are,” Mrs. Scherr agreed, but her voice was gentle.
“So why didn’t you tell us?” asked Jessie. “We would have given it back to you.”
“I started to,” said Charles. “I came by your hotel, but you weren’t in. And then I panicked. I was afraid that if anyone found out what I’d done, I’d lose my job here.”
“So you were the friend who stopped by,” said Jessie, beginning to understand.
“Then you followed us around, trying to get it back,” said Henry. “We saw someone in a raincoat—”
“That’s what was different about the raincoat,” said Violet. “It was all wrinkled!”
“Yes,” Charles said. “That was me. I hoped you’d put your backpack down and I could quickly take out the brooch without bothering anyone. No one would ever know. I tried to get it during tea.”
“So that’s why my bag wasn’t under my chair when I went to get the camera,” said Benny.
“We mentioned we were going to the theater last night,” said Jessie, “and so you took the opportunity to break into Benny’s room.”
“I’ve never done anything like that before, but I was getting desperate,” Charles said, his voice cracking. “That brooch is very valuable — I had to get it back! Last night, when I didn’t find it, I finally realized I had to tell the truth. I should have done that in the first place. That’s why I came here, Lauren. I was going to tell you everything.” Charles sighed heavily. “I guess you’ll want to call the police now.”
Mrs. Scherr looked seriously at Charles. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
Everyone sat silently as Mrs. Scherr picked up the brooch and studied it.
Then Violet spoke up in a quiet voice. “Charles, what you did was wrong — following us around, breaking into Benny and Henry’s room. You really scared us! Still, you must have been very frightened, having lost something so valuable. You must not have thought about what you were doing.” Violet looked at her sister and brothers, and then back at Charles. “I think we can forgive you.” The others nodded.
“And for me,” Mrs. Scherr said, “the important thing is that the brooch is safe and you’ve told me the truth. You do excellent work, Charles — most of the time. I’d hate to lose you.” Mrs. Scherr paused. “I think we can put this all behind us.”
“You mean you’re not going to report me to the police?” Charles said. “Or fire me?”
“No,” said Mrs. Scherr. “But I’m certainly not sending you to any more auctions. From now on you can just work here in the office.”
“Oh, thank you, Lauren,” Charles said. “I won’t make you sorry.”
“I just remembered,” Violet said. “We have something that belongs to you, Charles.”
“You do?” Charles asked.
“Yes, your hat,” said Violet. “You left it in the tea shop.”
“That’s right,” said Benny, digging into his backpack and pulling it out. He handed it to Charles.
“So that’s what I did with it! What would I do without kind people like you?” Charles asked, turning his hat around in his hands. “If that brooch had ended up in someone else’s bag, they might have kept it, or sold it for lots of money. Even if they were honest people, they might not have known where to return it. I’m lucky you children are so honest and that you were clever enough to figure out that the brooch belonged here at the museum.” Placing his hat on a table beside him, he walked over to the Aldens. One by one he shook each of their hands. “Thank you again,” he said warmly. “When do you leave London?”
“On Monday, at three o’clock,” said Jessie.
“Have a safe trip,” Charles said. Then he turned back to Lauren. “Now, do you mind if I go call my wife and tell her that everything’s going to be all right?”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Scherr said.
With that, Charles hurried out of the office. No sooner had he left than Benny picked up a hat from the table that Charles had been standing next to. “Wait,” he called out the door. “You forgot something!”
Everybody laughed.
That afternoon, when Mr. Alden got back from his meeting, Mrs. Brown served the family tea and cookies in the living room. The children told their grandfather all about what had happened at the museum. They had left the brooch with Mrs. Scherr and were happy to have solved the mystery at last.
“There’s just one thing I’m wondering,” said Jessie. “If Andrew wasn’t the one who hid the brooch in the backpack, then what did he mean about hiding something where no one would ever find it?”
“I guess we may never know,” said Henry.
Just then they heard the front door shut. “Hello, hello! Anyone here?” Andrew called, bounding into the living room. “I have wonderful news! I’m going to be famous! A star of the stage!”
“But you said you were already a star!” said Jessie, confused.
“I did tell you that, didn’t I?” said Andrew apologetically. “That was a bit of an exaggeration. But I will be a star soon!”
“What do you mean?” asked Henry. “You said you’d been in all those shows! Are you a famous actor or not?”
“Actor, yes. Famous, no,” said Andrew. “At least, not yet. You thought I was famous because I was wearing dark glasses. I couldn’t resist — I’m an actor, I love to become someone I’m not. So I pretended to be a star.”
“So that’s why that theater fan hadn’t heard of you,” said Jessie.
“And that’s why you looked uncomfortable when we said we might go to your show,” said Benny. “We would have found out you were lying.”
“But it wasn’t all a lie,” said Andrew. “I have been in lots of shows, but only in small-town theaters. I came to London a few weeks ago, hoping to finally make it big. I’ve been auditioning for lots of different parts, dressing up, practicing the lines in my room—”
“Wait a minute, did you say dressing up?” asked Benny. “Like an old man? Or someone with a beard?”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “Sometimes it helps me if I dress the part I’m auditioning for.”
“And you’ve been practicing your lines in your room?” Jessie asked. “Saying you were hiding something where no one would ever suspect?”
“Yes,” said Andrew, smiling broadly. “That’s from The Mystery Man.”
“We heard you, and you didn’t sound at all like yourself!” said Violet.
“That’s good, because I was pretending to be a gangster — Ambrose Prince’s part. I’ve just found out he’s leaving the show, and I’m taking over the starring role. It’s a dream come true!”
“Speaking of dreams, I have some news of my own,” said Donna, who had just entered the living room.
Everyone turned to look at her. She was carrying a small stack of fliers, which she passed around.
“ ‘Opening Soon: Madame Russo’s Wax Museum,’ ” said Jessie, reading aloud.
“I’m
opening my own museum back in the United States,” said Donna. “I just found a location for it, and I’ve signed all the papers to get it started. One day my museum will be as famous as Madame Tussaud’s.”
“So this is your secret plan to get rich,” said Benny.
“And that’s why you knew so much about the wax museum,” Violet added.
“Yes,” Donna said. “I’ve been reading books about waxworks and visiting there every day. But I didn’t want anyone to know, because I was afraid someone might steal my idea before I’d gotten everything arranged.”
“Aren’t there already wax museums in the United States?” asked Benny.
“There are, but none is as popular as Madame Tussaud’s. Mine will be,” Donna said.
The guests at the Cheshire Inn spent the rest of the afternoon celebrating their successes. Andrew had gotten a starring role in a play. Donna’s wax museum would be opening soon. And the Aldens had solved yet another mystery.
On Monday morning, the Aldens packed up their suitcases and said good-bye to Donna, Andrew, and Mrs. Brown. They were quite sad to be leaving London. They had had such a good time.
Mrs. Brown had called for a cab to drive them to the airport. When they arrived there, a porter took their luggage, except for the pieces they were carrying on with them, like Benny’s red backpack.
Jessie found a television screen that listed all the departing flights. “There’s ours,” she said. “It’s leaving from gate 6A.”
“That’s this way,” said Henry, pointing down a long hallway. The Aldens walked until they came to a counter with a sign over it saying “6A.” Behind the counter stood a woman in an airline uniform. Grandfather handed her their tickets and she checked them in.
“Is that our plane?” Benny asked, looking out a large window.
“Yes,” the woman said. “We’ll be boarding in a few minutes.”
The Aldens took their carry-on bags over to a group of chairs by the window. They had just sat down when a voice right behind them said, “Hello, Aldens!” Grandfather and the children turned around to see Charles Finchley.
“Charles! What are you doing here?” asked Jessie.
“I came to see you off!” said Charles with a big smile. “I can only stay a few minutes, because I have to get back to the museum.” He took off his wrinkled raincoat and hat and laid them on a chair. Then he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d like to exchange addresses, so that we can stay in touch.”
“That would be nice,” said Violet.
Charles picked up his raincoat and checked all the pockets. “Oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten my pen.”
“I’ve got one,” Benny said, reaching into his red backpack and pulling out a blue marker.
Charles tore the paper in half and wrote his name and address on one piece. Then he gave the other piece of paper and the marker to Henry, who wrote down the Aldens’ address. Then they traded papers.
“We’ll write as soon as we get home!” said Jessie.
“And I can paint you a picture,” said Violet.
“We could even write you a letter on the airplane!” Benny said.
“That sounds lovely.” Charles sat for a few minutes with the Aldens, watching the airplanes landing and taking off. Then he looked at his watch. “I’d better be going now,” he said, pulling on his raincoat. Then Aldens waved good-bye as Charles headed down the hallway.
“Flight 125 is now boarding,” a voice said over the loudspeaker.
“That’s us,” said Jessie.
As the Aldens turned back to their seats to collect their things, they spotted something on one of the chairs. It was Charles’s hat.
“Oh, no!” said Benny. “Not again!”
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1998 by Albert Whitman & Company
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Gertrude Chandler Warner, The Mystery of the Queen's Jewels
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