Madhattan Mystery (28 page)

“No way,” Lexi muttered.

“Way!” Kim Ling said, stepping forward. “And when they reported his arrest without even mentioning your name, I thought, ‘Oh, heck to the no!' I mean, I knew it had to be because of your epiphany, Lex, after spelling it all out for me in that e-mail. So, I took it upon myself to alert the media that a shy little Amish girl from Cold Spring had actually solved the crime of the century single-handedly and
voilà
—they're all over the story like, if you'll excuse the cliché, white on rice. They showed up at the brownstone en masse this morning but you guys had already left, so”—she hunched over suddenly, gasping for breath—“that's when I steered them—here.”

“Omigod, Billy,” Kevin said into his cell phone, “are you getting all this? My sister's, like, some hero! What? No, we're not Amish.”

“Apparently, Benjamin Deets, the main suspect, and Nigel Humphries were in an alliance,” the female reporter said. “They had an ongoing—well, here, let me play you the lead-in I just taped. It'll explain.”

She gestured to the NBC cameraman, and Lexi, Kevin, Kim Ling, and Aunt Roz quickly gathered around the front of his camera and focused on the LCD screen. Snowy haze. Beeps. Numbers. Then the reporter's image appeared.

“This is Yolanda Sanchez reporting from Grand Central Terminal where I await the arrival of Alexandra McGill, the twelve-year-old from Cold Spring who single-handedly—”

“Fast-forward, fast-forward,” the live Yolanda said, gesturing to the cameraman.

BLEEET-BLEEEEEEEEEEEEET …

“—exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of—
BLEEEET
—former college roommates. Nigel Humphries had hired Deets as a crime consultant on his Emmy Award–winning drama,
The Streets of New York
. Despite its accolades, the show, famous for exaggerating real-life stories ripped from today's headlines, had been slipping in the ratings recently and was on the network's chopping block.

“According to Humphries, it was Deets's diabolical plan to steal the jewels headed for an exhibit at the Met as an act of revenge against his former employer, then recreate the entire scenario in an episode of
Streets
, incorporating a totally outrageous ending—burying the jewels next to Cleopatra's Needle in Central Park. Humphries, having his own personal vendetta against the network, had agreed. They were reportedly relying on the theory that real life couldn't possibly imitate art—that no one would ever suspect the actual jewels to be buried in the exact same area.”

“But they were?” Lexi asked through her trembling hand.

“Keep watching,” the reporter said.

“As a fitting conclusion to this truly bizarre case, Cleopatra's jewels, as they're being called, have indeed been unearthed from Central Park completely intact, and
will undergo a thorough examination before being returned to the Cairo Museum. Nigel Humphries has been arrested and is currently being held at the Metropolitan Correctional Center in lower Manhattan while Benjamin Deets remains at large.”

“Apparently these jokers planned on retrieving the jewels after the story died down,” Yolanda said as the screen went black. “Stripping them down to sell overseas and splitting the profits. But they were recovered, thanks to you, Miss McGill.”

“I'm—uh, I don't know what to say.”

Without warning, Aunt Roz smothered Lexi in one of her trademark rocking hugs. “Oh, Alexandra,” she whispered, “I didn't expect extraordinary to happen so soon! Your mother would be absolutely thrilled.” She kissed her cheek. Stroked her hair. Then suddenly she was gazing at her through worried eyes. “My goodness, you're white as a ghost. This must be so overwhelming for you. Do you need anything—are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't she be okay?” the blue-suited reporter said, coming at them with a microphone. “She's about to receive a staggering amount of reward money.”

“Omigod, that's right,” Kevin gushed. “Score! We're rich!” He launched into his happy dance and was about to knock into a camera when Aunt Roz grabbed him by the wrist.

“Come on,” she said, “let's run and get your sister a bottled water real quick—before she passes out.” And she
pulled him toward the main concourse, calling out to Lexi, “Talk to the reporters, dear—and, for heaven's sake, breathe,
breathe
! We'll be back in two shakes!”

“Can we get a statement, sweetheart?” the same reporter asked.

Five more microphones instantly came at Lexi—fifty more questions.

“Tell us the whole story in your own words,” Yolanda said, and signaled to her cameraman. “How did you piece it all together? Roll camera, roll camera! In three … two …”

What came out of Lexi's mouth at that point was a mystery to her. An out-of-body experience. Did it even make sense? Who knows? She would have to wait to find out on the five o'clock news like everyone else—provided she returned to earth by then. “Okay, are we through?” she asked over her thundering heartbeat. “My dad's meeting us over by the clock and I really don't want to miss him.”

“What are your plans for the money? Do you have your top picks for college yet? Anything else you'd like to say?” the reporters shouted over each other.

“Give her a break, guys,” Kim Ling told them. “Can't you see she's had enough?”

The never-ending rush of questions had almost knocked Lexi over. She was shaking her head, about to walk away—but—“No, wait.” She summoned her courage and leaned into the microphones. “There
is
something else. I didn't exactly do this alone. First off, my little brother helped.
A lot. And the truth is, I wouldn't have done it at all if it weren't for this awesome girl right over here.” Lexi reached past the reporters and pulled a stunned-looking Kim Ling on camera. “She's the brains behind everything—Kim Ling Levine. Remember that name, ‘cause she's gonna be a hotshot journalist someday.”

“Oh, wow,” Kim Ling said, tapping on one of the microphones, “I'm making my television debut in my ducky pajamas. How surreal is this?” She cleared her throat. “Sibilant, sibilant. Hello, America—members of the press, ladies and gentlemen …”

Kim Ling's voice became a distant hum as Lexi shouldered her backpack and grabbed her duffel. Thoughts of the abandoned railway station, Mr. Gibbs and the lost and found, Melrose Merritt, and the Whispering Gallery played out in her head like a movie montage. She floated across the concourse toward the big opal clock—that priceless treasure that hardly anyone recognized as being priceless or a treasure. Suddenly the world was treating
her
like a priceless treasure. Could she ever live up to it all?

She glanced up at the magnificent ceiling of zodiac symbols and spotted the small patch of black the tour guide, Mr. Early, had pointed out. How did his little poem go that she liked so much? “The wondrous—” no, “The glorious
something
of sweet summer light gleams doubly bright next to wintry night.” Lexi took it to mean that good things seem even better when you've got a little bit of bad
to compare them with, which was true. Memories of her mom were sweeter, more precious somehow because of the heartache. And even though New York had been a giant quilt of dark patches, right now it was the best place on the planet.

“That was amazing—brief but amazing! Um, hello? Mankind's helper? Let me know if you're, like, having a stroke or something, ‘cause I know CPR.”

“Kim. No, I'm—just spacing out. So, how'd it go?”

“Are you kidding? I'm totally
plotzing
!”

“So, I guess you don't despise me anymore with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, huh?”

Kim Ling rolled her eyes. “Not my finest hour. That's Shakespeare, by the way. I like to give credit where credit is due. And speaking of which—way to go, Lex!” She did a little idol-worship bow. “I mean, how could you not be jumping up and down right now?”

“Well, my insides are. I'm still in shock, I guess. It's just all too unbelieva—”

“
YOO-HOO, ALEX!
”

“—bull.”

The voice of doom. It was her. Clare. Waving from across the terminal. Lexi immediately snapped back into reality and her stomach tumbled down a cliff, dragging her intestines with it. Facing the TV cameras was easier than facing—“Dad and Bridezilla. Here they come.”

“Well, I should split.” Kim Ling scratched her neck, backing away.

“
What?
You don't want to meet them?”

“Rain check. But thanks for everything—and don't forget to say good-bye to the kid for me, okay?” And with that she did a sharp one-eighty and started speed-walking through the crowd.

“So, that's it?” Lexi called out. “Really? After all we've been through—shouldn't we at least shake hands or something?”

Kim Ling's hand shot up in a stiff “so long” and she kept going. “I don't do sloppy farewell scenes.”

Lexi's eyes were instantly overflowing. “Typical.” Funny how she hadn't cried for years, since her mother had passed, and lately she was a crying freak! She composed herself as best she could and zeroed in on her father and his wife, who were gaining ground from the opposite direction. Her poor dad looked like a beast of burden, struggling to carry a village's worth of luggage through the crowd. Lexi decided to lend him a hand, but before she could take one step—“Argh!”—something rammed into her!

“And you
are
the best friend
I've
ever had, dude, so deal with it!” It was Kim Ling and she was hugging the life out of her. “God, I loathe myself right now.” She backed away and took off even faster than before.

Lexi tried desperately to think of something meaningful to say, but all that came out was “Text me!”

She watched Kim Ling fly by the straggling reporters and stop for a street person carrying a sign:
GIVE TO THE NEW YORK WILDLIFE PIZZA FUND
.
Isn't that the same guy I saw

on day one?
Kim Ling actually reached into her pocket and dropped coins into his basket! Now, that sight alone was worth the entire trip.

“
ALEX!
”

The sight of her stepmother, however, clip-clopping toward her in noisy high heels, had Lexi bracing herself against the kiosk.
Inhale pink … exhale blue
. She palmed her tears away and gripped her opal pendant for all it was worth. All of a sudden it didn't matter that she was being touted as some kind of hero. The dreaded moment had arrived. The official beginning of life in Clare's lair.

Did she have to face her alone? Where had Aunt Roz and Kevin gone for that bottled water? Poland Springs?

Clare was up to a full canter when her ankle wobbled and she lurched forward. Lexi's father dropped a suitcase to save her from plummeting.

“Klutz,” Lexi muttered to herself. “Walk much?”

He scooped her up in a loving embrace.

Yelch. Bleah. Please
.

But the instant Clare stepped into the silver light beams streaming from the enormous arched windows, something changed in Lexi. Suddenly she wasn't cringing. She was grinning uncontrollably instead. Not because Clare had almost taken a nosedive in the middle of Grand Central. Not because her hairdo was smooshed. Not even because of her completely ridiculous pigeon-toed limp.

It was what she was wearing that told Lexi, without a doubt, that everything was going to be all right. Just a
dress, but with a heavenly print—a thousand
feathers
—white, fluffy, glorious feathers swirling this way and that.

Lexi glanced up again at the vast celestial ceiling. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered. “I read you loud and clear.”

She heard running footsteps coming from behind.

“C'mon, Kevin—what took you guys so long?” And with happy tears suddenly spilling down her face, Lexi eagerly reached out to greet her two parents.

THANK YOU to Chris Woodworth and Lisa Williams Kline, my loyal critique group buddies, for their invaluable input; Steven Chudney, my superb agent, for his unflagging support; Mary Kate Castellani, my brilliant editor, for her ingenious ideas; Erwin Madrid, my gifted cover illustrator, for his fantastic work of art; Mary-Ann Trippet, my self-proclaimed sounding board, for her willingness to listen; and, last but not least, New York, New York, my incomparable city, for its endless inspiration—and twenty-four-hour food delivery.

Copyright © 2012 by John J. Bonk
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

First published in the United States of America in May 2012
by Walker Publishing Company, Inc., a division of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
www.bloomsburykids.com

This electronic edition published in May 2012

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bonk, John J.
Madhattan mystery / by John J. Bonk.
p.     cm.
Summary: On her first day in New York City with her younger brother, Kevin, twelve-year-old Lexi overhears thieves discussing where to hide stolen jewels, and the siblings, along with their aunt's neighbor, Kim Ling, skip day camp to investigate “the crime of the century.”
ISBN 978-0-80272-397-0 (e-book)
[1. Mystery and detective stories. 2. New York (N.Y.)—New York—Fiction.
3. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 4. Robbers and outlaws—Fiction.
5. Aunts—Fiction. 6. Camps—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B6417Mad 2012               [Fic]—dc23                         2011034590