Prince Amos (4 page)

“The prince rarely has any contact with her. There have been hard feelings between the two families. Sophie is married to the king’s brother, and for a while it looked as if her son, Harold, would be the heir to the throne. But then Prince Gustav was born and dashed her hopes. She has always resented him.”

The car stopped in front of the capitol building. Amos started to get out. “I forgot to ask. What am I supposed to say to these little kids?”

Charles straightened Amos’s tie. “Nod your head, shake hands, and—”

“I know,” Amos said. “Say something appropriate—like good afternoon.”

Charles smiled. “Very good, sir. Only it’s morning.”

“Whatever.” Amos looked out the window. A familiar figure approached the car.

“Quick, hide!” Amos ducked down in the seat. “That’s my teacher from school.”

Mrs. Wormwood knocked on the car window. “Excuse me, Prince Gustav. The students are waiting.” She knocked again. “Yoo-hoo, Prince.”

Amos slid into the floor. “If she sees me, we’re dead meat.”

“May I offer a suggestion, sir?”

“Only if it has to do with catching a quick plane to Mexico.”

“I think you should go through with it. She won’t know you. You’ve fooled everyone so far—even the prince’s own relatives.”

Amos sat up. A little. “You don’t know this woman. She has radar or something. Once, in the back of the room, Jimmy Farrel was making this pile of spit wads while she had her back turned. Out of the blue she stopped, went straight to Jimmy’s desk, and made him eat every one of them. It was spooky.”

Charles watched Mrs. Wormwood beat on the window. “I suppose we could cancel. But it wouldn’t do the prince’s reputation any good.”

“You don’t understand,” Amos said. “If she catches me, she’ll send what’s left of me home in an envelope.”

“Very well, sir. We’ll call it off. After all, it’s not your country or your reputation that some ruthless person is attempting to ruin. I can see why you would want to put your own personal problems before the welfare of an entire country.”

Amos groaned. “Oh, all right, I’ll do it. But Gus better appreciate this.”

Charles signaled the chauffeur, who came around and opened the door for them.

Amos stepped out. He couldn’t believe
his eyes. Mrs. Wormwood actually curtsied. He leaned over to Charles. “This definitely has possibilities.”

She led them to the courtyard on the side of the building. Amos spotted Dunc and the prince waiting in the back of the line to shake his hand. The prince pulled Amos’s ball cap down low. Dunc winked at him and grinned from ear to ear.

Amos played his part to perfection.

Almost.

He shook hands and said good morning to everyone in line until …

Melissa.

When she put out her hand, he froze. He turned bright red and forgot his line, his name, his life, how to breathe, think, see. Everything left him.

Charles elbowed him. Amos blinked. He gently took Melissa’s hand, clicked his heels together, and bowed.

Melissa flashed him a brilliant smile.

A giggle went through the line. Mrs. Wormwood took out her fan and gasped, “Oh, my goodness.”

The rest of the students shook his hand,
but Amos was totally unaware. All he could think of was that not only had he, Amos Binder, held Melissa Hansen’s hand in his but she had smiled at him. It was a day for the history books. When he got home, he’d ask her to go steady, and then …

“Amos, pay attention,” Dunc muttered furtively as he was shaking Amos’s hand. “We need to talk.”

Amos blinked again. “Did you see that, Dunc? She loves me.”

“Keep your voice down.” Dunc kept shaking his hand. “We have some new information. Well meet you by the water fountain when this is over.”

The prince shook Amos’s hand quickly and moved to the other side of the garden so no one would notice anything.

When the last student had moved aside, Mrs. Wormwood took Amos’s arm. “Tell me, Your Highness. Do you enjoy school?”

“I would probably enjoy school very much if it weren’t for one thing.”

“What is that, Your Highness?”

“I have an extremely disagreeable social studies teacher. She gives a mountain of
homework every night and insists on seating her students in alphabetical order. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous?”

“N-no,” Mrs. Wormwood sputtered. “No, I haven’t.”

Amos bent over and pressed the button on the water fountain. Water squirted him in the face and soaked the front of his jacket. The purple banner across his chest faded onto his white shirt. He noticed the “out of order” sign just as Dunc walked up.

“What are you doing?” Dunc asked.

Amos looked down at his jacket. “It’s a new method of cleaning clothes. I’ll show it to you later.”

“I think I’ll pass. Where’s Charles?”

“He went to find the chauffeur. Where’s Gus?”

“He’s keeping an eye on Senator Grafter.”

“Why? I thought he was supposed to be working for Senator Suborn?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. The prince’s chief intelligence officer called last night. We found out that Senator Grafter is trying to buy the rights to a new oil field in Gus’s country.”

Amos pulled his arm out of the sleeve. “So?”

“The senator claims to have no connections with any oil company. If we can prove he does, then he’s in big trouble.”

Amos twisted the jacket and squeezed some of the water out. “You’re going to get to the part that makes sense any minute now, right?”

“The intelligence officer says the senator is working with somebody from inside the country who wants to make the prince and his father look bad. Whoever it is, is trying to make it look like Gus and his dad are selling off the oil rights when the country needs them desperately.”

Amos slipped the jacket back on. “Hmm. Seems a little smaller than it was before.”

“Here’s what we need you to do.”

“I knew we’d get to this part,” Amos said. “How weird is it this time?”

“It’s not that bad. Really.”

“You say that every time.”

“This time I mean it. All you have to do is show up here tomorrow in the limousine and bring an extra suit of clothes for the prince.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch. Gus has a tape recorder, and we’re going to keep following the senator. But even if we don’t get any evidence, Gus is going to make a speech at two o’clock tomorrow to try to put a stop to what’s going on.”

“And all I have to do is show up and trade places with the prince?”

“That’s it.”

“Wait a minute. How come they’re going to let Gus give a speech? I thought someone was keeping him off the list of speakers.”

“Let’s just say some very clever pages managed to put him back on the list.”

“Are you guys working with someone else?”

“Very funny.”

Amos shrugged. “Anything else I need to know?”

“We’ll be waiting for you in the rest room on the second floor. Don’t be late.”

Dunc hid the tape recorder in the bottom of the trash can. He covered it with a couple of pieces of paper.

“Did you turn it on?” Gus asked.

Dunc nodded. “Full blast. We should be able to hear him breathe.”

“I hope we get something. This is our last chance. I’d rather make that speech this afternoon with some solid evidence. Otherwise, it’s just my word against his.”

Dunc started for the door. “We better go. The secretary thinks we’re in here on an errand for the senator. She might get suspicious.”

“I heard her say she was going to lunch.”

“Just the same, we better—shh, somebody’s coming!” Dunc pointed to the closet. They scrambled in and closed the door.

The senator was talking to someone. “I don’t know how it happened. I did everything I could to keep him off the speakers’ list.”

“That’s not good enough,” a woman hissed. “Our deal was for you to make him look bad. In return, I would make sure you had the top bid on those oil wells.”

The prince’s eyes widened. He leaned close to Dunc and whispered, “It’s my aunt Sophie.”

The woman continued, “If he gets back in the good graces of the people of Moldavia, I will hold you personally responsible. Our agreement will be terminated.”

“You can’t do that. My company needs those wells.”

“Then I suggest you take whatever steps you find necessary to make him appear incompetent—or else. Do you understand?”

The senator sighed. “I understand.”

“Good. I will be waiting for your report.”
The woman’s heels clicked against the floor as she left the room.

The senator sat at his desk for a few minutes. Then he gathered his things and followed her.

Dunc waited. He cautiously peeked out of the closet. “All clear.”

The prince uncovered the tape recorder and smiled. “I can’t believe our luck.”

Dunc tried the door. “It’s locked. We’re locked in.”

“Oh, no!” Gus looked at his watch. “We’re supposed to meet Amos in fifteen minutes!”

Dunc moved to the window. “It’s three stories to the ground. Any suggestions?”

Amos washed his hands five times. He looked at his teeth in the mirror and sat on the counter, holding the extra suit, and waited.

Charles opened the door. “Any sign of them?”

Amos shook his head. “I wonder what’s keeping them. Gus is going to be late for his speech.”

“I fear it may be foul play.”

Amos slid off the counter. “What do you mean? You think somebody kidnaped them?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“What should we do?”

“First we need to cancel the speech. Then we’ll check their motel room. If no one’s heard from them, we may need to call the police.”

“I’ll go up and cancel the speech,” Amos said. “You get the chauffeur to bring the can around.”

Amos hung the suit on the back of the bathroom door and headed for the elevator. When he stepped out, a young man was waiting for him. “This way, Your Highness. You have less than a minute.”

Amos followed him through some double doors. “Wait. I don’t think you understand. See, I need to talk to someone about—”

Amos stopped and looked around. He was on the senate floor. Everyone stood and applauded.

When they sat down, the room was deathly silent. Amos thought about making
a run for it. He chewed his lip and looked up at the sea of faces in the gallery.

He moved to the podium and tapped the microphone. “Um, hello there. I’m—well, you all know who I am. What I’d like to know is who you are.”

A ripple of laughter passed through the audience.

“Never mind. I can see your nameplates on your desks. Hey—you guys have to sit in alphabetical order too.”

Another ripple of laughter.

Amos waited. The people were smiling. He was a hit. Maybe he should really go for it. He put his hand inside his jacket and puffed out his chest. “Four score and seven years ago …”

“Psst!” Dunc was waving at him from the door.

Amos bent down to the mike. “Hold that thought. Excuse me for just a minute.”

Dunc grabbed him as he opened the door, and the real prince stepped back onto the stage.