“The gift shop was your dad’s idea?” Paloma narrowed her eyes. “That’s so weird.” Tavo gave her a puzzled look. “Remember when I told you I bumped into your dad here with my tutor …”
Tavo nodded.
“He was over by the cafeteria. Anyway, he told me he got lost looking for the gift shop.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Tavo said, rolling his eyes. “My dad and mom know this place inside and out. He was obviously having a senior moment.”
Paloma chuckled, but inside she fumed. What was Mr. Farill really doing near the locked storage room? More proof that Mr. Farill was not as innocent as Paloma had first thought. Her mind wandered to Gael. Was that why he was so curious about that back area when he saw Mr. Farill come from there? And then after their run-in with the Trench Coat Man, did he decide that the ring wasn’t at Casa Azul and that led them to sneaking into Mr. Farill’s home?
“Have the police figured out who broke into your home?” Paloma asked. “Any new information?”
“Turns out it was two kids dressed up as cleaners.”
Paloma felt a jolt of fear for Gael and Lizzie. As mad as she was at them, they didn’t deserve to be in jail.
“You can identify them?”
“Nah, they were smart. It’s like they knew about our cameras. They wore surgical masks and caps. They even used our maid’s cleaning gloves, too. Sneaky. Still, they didn’t take anything. You’ll be happy to know the creepy Picasso painting is safe.”
“Yay!” Paloma said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. She knew all along Gael and Lizzie weren’t thieves, but she was relieved to hear it.
“My room was untouched. My mom said it was as if they were looking for something specific. Anyway, my dad was crazy angry. He’ll do what he usually does. He won’t stop until someone is fired or arrested. That will be the end of it.”
Paloma stepped back, offended. Is that what Mr. Farill had done to Mr. Castillo? Freaked out and got him arrested?
Suddenly, a lady walked up with a cardboard box. “Mr. Farill. This is the lost-and-found box. We’ve looked through it for the cuff link, but maybe you’d like to double-check?”
Tavo nodded and took the box from her, placing it on a display table. “Thank you,” he responded to the woman. He dug through various knickknacks in the box. Paloma leaned in to help.
“What does it look like?” she asked.
“It’s gold. Very old,” he said. “It’s been handed down from my great-great-grandfather to my dad. It’s a unique piece that looks like an old-fashioned peso coin.”
Paloma stiffened at Tavo’s description. She’d seen a cuff link like that before. Twice in fact. When she and Tavo took the selfie in front of the creepy Picasso, she saw it on the high-top table. There was just one. The match had to be the one that she and Gael found in the storage room, near one of the wheelchairs. Paloma’s mind raced to remember what she’d done with it. Jeans’ pocket! It had to be in her black jeans’ pocket. Paloma chewed on her bottom lip.
“I have to go,” she said.
“So soon? Do you want a ride home?” Tavo asked. “Our driver is parked outside.”
Paloma waved back at him as she exited the gallery. “I’m good. Thanks!”
She darted out of the museum toward the cafeteria. Mr. Farill had told her he was lost looking for the gift shop when he came out from behind the cafeteria. It was a massive lie. He was in the storage room, and he lost his gold cuff link inside.
Why would Mr. Farill and the Trench Coat Man be so interested in a stupid storage room unless there was something valuable hidden there? Paloma’s heart raced as she realized what she must do. There was no time to waste. As she crossed the courtyard, a large mariachi group began to practice. Trumpets blared. Guitars thrummed. The violins began to crescendo. Men’s voices sang into microphones, filling the courtyard with “¡Ay, ay, ay!”
Before she slipped through the transparent tarp that led to the far end of the courtyard and the secret room, she scanned the area for security guards. There were none in sight. This was her chance. She grabbed a big rock and took it behind the tree. The storage room door was locked. She banged at the lock with the stone, but it didn’t move. She struck it over and over. Still it wouldn’t break. She grabbed a bobby pin from her hair to maneuver it into the lock, but it didn’t open. Feeling defeated, she sunk down to the ground and threw the rock at the base of the tree. When it struck the ground, Paloma expected a soft thud, but instead it made a metallic sound.
Paloma got up and walked over to the base of the tree. She grabbed the stone and tapped it on the ground. Ting, ting, ting. When she brushed away the dirt and wet mud caused by the rain the night before, Paloma couldn’t believe her eyes. There, under the tree, was a metal box. It was buried in the mud. Digging her fingers into the wet ground, Paloma tried to nudge it loose and pull it out, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, she left it stuck in the mud and opened the simple latch. Inside was a small gold key and an invitation for Frida’s party. Over Frida’s face, someone had scribbled in thick black ink:
Las Mañanitas 8:15
Paloma couldn’t believe her eyes. She knew enough Spanish to know that “mañana” meant “morning.” Did Mr. Farill leave it for the Trench Coat Man to get the key the day of Frida’s party at 8:15 in the morning? Paloma rubbed her forehead. That didn’t seem right. Why would he take that risk in daylight? She’d have to figure it out later. Right now, the gold key was in the palm of her hand. Paloma got up and stepped toward the door. She slid the key into the lock and turned it until it clicked. From over the top of the cafeteria, she could hear the mariachi continue to belt out songs. With a quick glance back toward the tree to make sure she was still alone, she tapped the door open and stepped in, stashing the key and lock in her front jean pocket.
The room was dark, but she remembered that there was a dangling lightbulb. She treaded farther into the room and yanked the string to the light. The yellow glow was enough for her to once again see the ladders, metal buckets, the desk she and Gael hid under, and a wheelchair covered with dusty old blankets.
Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every dark, dusty corner. Something as small as a ring could be anywhere. Where would Mr. Farill hide it? Her mind raced back to that scary night in the room with Gael. Before the whole Trench Coat Man attack, she had found the gold cuff link on the ground near the wheelchair. She pushed the wheelchair back and squatted down to run her hands along the tiled floor. A few small black insects scurried out of her path, stopping her heart for a second. After a brief moment to catch her breath, she once again glided her hand along the floor. That’s when she felt a loose tile. She gently lifted it up. Beneath the tile was a deep hole. Paloma hesitated. What if there were snakes down there? What if a rat and its baby rats were in that hole waiting for a tasty bite of a human hand?
Paloma glanced around the room for some sort of stick to reach into the hole. There was nothing.
“Okay,” Paloma said to herself. “I need to just Lulu up and do this.”
She took a deep breath and dipped her hand into the hole. She was elbow-deep when she touched a velvety soft pouch. The pouch held something small, but it had heft. Paloma grasped the pouch with both hands, pulled it out, and untied it quickly.
From the pouch, she pulled out a small wooden box. A lump formed in Paloma’s throat. Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Inside, a silver peacock ring with sparkling emerald and blue sapphire encrusted feathers glimmered. Paloma gasped. She’d found it! She couldn’t believe she was holding the ring that Frida Kahlo designed only a few days before she died.
“Wow, Frida,” Paloma said softly. “You did it.”
After her mom’s red opal wedding ring, it was the most gorgeous piece of jewelry Paloma had ever set eyes on. She wiped a tear from her cheek. Suddenly, a thought struck her: If she was caught with the ring right now, then she could never expose Mr. Farill for the thief he was. Worse, Mr. Castillo would remain in jail. She’d h
ave to get it to a safe hiding place quickly. Paloma put the ring back into its box and slipped it in her pocket. Then she replaced the tile and the wheelchair. Quickly, she locked the storage door behind her and returned the gold key to its metal case.
She couldn’t let Mr. Farill or the Trench Coat Man take this ring from the museum. It belonged at Frida’s home so everyone could see what she created. It wasn’t for sale!
Paloma hurried out from behind the cafeteria. She couldn’t stop shaking. She had found Frida’s peacock ring. It was in her pocket! Now she needed a plan. She scurried toward the courtyard exit when she spotted a camera glowering at her from a tree. It was all starting to make sense. Casa Azul would be full of masked people for the party. The invitation was a clue that whatever Mr. Farill was planning was happening the day of the party, but when exactly? At 8:15 in the morning?
Paloma had almost reached the exit when the mariachi band began another song. The song’s lyrics stopped her cold.
Estas son las mañanitas
que cantaba el rey David
She stood to listen a little bit more. What was that song? She tapped a young woman working at the exit turnstile and asked her the name of it.
“‘Las mañanitas,’” she answered. “They’re rehearsing for Frida’s birthday party.”
“‘Las mañanitas,’” Paloma repeated. “They’re going to sing it at Frida’s party?”
“¡Claro! It’s the birthday song,” she said.
“¡Muchas gracias!”
Paloma sprinted home. She was mentally moving the different pieces together to see how they fit. Paloma was convinced that something was definitely going down at Frida’s birthday celebration at Casa Azul. Something at 8:15 during the singing of “Las mañanitas.” This had to be what the note meant.
At home, Paloma rummaged through her laundry, looking for her black jeans. She pulled them out of the hamper and dug through the back pockets. The cuff link was cold against her fingertips. She pulled it out. It was exactly as Tavo had described. More importantly, it was a clear match with the cuff link she’d seen at Tavo’s house when they took their selfie. Paloma’s mind raced with theories. Each one linked Mr. Farill to the storage room where the peacock ring was hidden. Was he hiding it there while waiting for his smuggler, the Trench Coat Man, to take it? Was that why the Trench Coat Man was at the museum that night? Had he come to collect the ring, but was forced to give up when Paloma and Gael got in his way?
Paloma had more questions than answers, but at least she found the peacock ring. Without her phone, Paloma had no choice but to run to the churro stand and hope Gael and Lizzie were there. She had so much to tell them.
As soon as she arrived at the Jardín Centenario, Paloma spotted Gael and Lizzie getting into a cab. She ran to the corner to catch them. A car turned in front of her, cutting her off. She yelled for Gael, but he didn’t hear her.
Where are they going? A couple of taxis passed her by, and Paloma patted the bag slung across her chest. She had spending money from her grandparents. She threw her hands up to hail a taxi. As soon as one stopped for her, Paloma jumped into the backseat. The driver turned around to ask her for directions.
“¿A dónde, mi reina?”
Paloma worked her brain to find the vocabulary she wanted and form the words in her mouth. She had to tell him where to go, but she didn’t know where Gael and Lizzie were heading. She racked her head for the words “follow” and “taxi.” In an instant it came to her.
“¡Siga ese taxi! Por favor,” Paloma said. The driver nodded.
After a fifteen-minute drive through Coyoacán toward Mexico City, it was obvious to Paloma that Gael and Lizzie’s taxi was following another cab. It turned when the taxi in front of them turned. Their taxi slowed when the other taxi slowed. Who were they following?
Paloma kept her eyes on both taxis ahead of her as they snaked through streets. A small boy dressed in ripped, dirty clothes tapped on the taxi driver’s window to sell them candy. Another boy was selling chips. This was a part of Mexico City Paloma hadn’t seen.
As Gael and Lizzie’s taxi suddenly pulled over to a curb, Paloma’s taxi lurched to a stop behind it.
“¡Aquí! Gracias, señor,” Paloma said to the driver. She handed him a few bills, opened her car door, and half stepped out, when she noticed that Gael and Lizzie were still in the backseat of their car. Gael leaned over Lizzie and pointed out the window. Paloma followed his finger toward a slender man in a dark gray suit, holding a briefcase and striding toward a four-story outdoor market bustling with shoppers.
Paloma covered her mouth with her hand. It was Mr. Farill! Gael and Lizzie stepped out of the taxi and followed him into the market.
“¿Todo está bien?” The taxi driver gave her a puzzled look.
Paloma looked down at her sandals, gray capris, and blue striped shirt. She was dressed for a day at the park with friends—not for spying! She slid out of the taxi anyway and rushed to where she saw Gael and Lizzie enter the market. Paloma had just taken a few steps inside when a woman shoved skeleton puppets at her. The skeletons wore flowers on their heads and bright dresses. The vendor made them dance.
“Gracias, muy bien,” Paloma said, not knowing what else to say about the freaky puppet skeletons. She managed to slink away from the vendor and continued through the narrow passageway. She spotted Lizzie’s head and followed, meandering deeper into the market and passing tables piled high with T-shirts and jeans, and counters full of gold and silver jewelry. A man shouted at her from his table.
“¡Ofertas! ¡Ofertas! Everything good price, niña.”
Paloma pressed forward through the throng of shoppers carrying full bags of avocados, onions, and bread, and vendors flashing DVDs, shoes, and large sombreros at her. Through all of this, she locked in on Gael and Lizzie, who had suddenly stopped. They looked to their left and right. Paloma knew right away that they had lost Mr. Farill. Where was he? She scanned the area.
That’s when she spotted him to her left. She could barely make him out through the crowd of people standing in front of stalls displaying Mexican-style souvenirs. Paloma moved closer. She pretended to admire a few Mexican dolls and watched Mr. Farill greet a stocky man dressed in a sporty tracksuit. Both men laughed. The man patted Mr. Farill on the shoulder and opened the door for him. Paloma craned her neck and caught a quick glimpse of a dimly lit room with a table before the door closed. Paloma glanced backed toward where she’d seen Gael and Lizzie standing, but they were no longer there.
They were right beside her.
“What are you guys doing here?” Paloma asked.
“We should ask you the same thing, Kansas,” Lizzie said, full of attitude that took Paloma by surprise.
“I was searching for you guys. I know for sure that something is going down at Frida’s birthday party.”
“No, don’t you see the deal is going down right now,” Gael said with an exasperated tone. “Mr. Farill is in that room right now.”
Lizzie nodded. “This is our chance to catch him and bust up their exchange of goods.”
Paloma shook her head in disbelief. “Exchange of goods? Where did you even learn that expression? Forget it! I don’t want to know. Why do you guys think something is going down now? That stocky dude definitely wasn’t the Trench Coat Man.”
Gael put his arm around Paloma’s shoulders, pulled her away from the closed door, and huddled close to her. “We didn’t tell you before, but while we were at the Farills’ house looking for the ring, we found an email on the printer. It was a note from a dude named Sergei—”
“A Russian name,” Lizzie added. “Probably the Trench Coat Man.”
“He instructed Mr. Farill to take a taxi from the Jardín Centenario and meet him here at this market on the first level,” Gael said. “Turns out, this is the same place he met our father when he framed him and had him arrested.”
Paloma shook her head in annoyance. Why hadn’t they shared this email information with her when t
hey spoke outside school?
“We didn’t tell you because we figured you would try to stop us or, worse, tell your friend Tavo.”
Paloma stepped back, shocked by Gael’s words. “I would never do that,” she said. “I would never betray you guys like that. I want to help your dad, too.”
“Gracias, Paloma,” Gael said softly. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”
Paloma nodded to show them that she understood. She glimpsed back toward the closed door.
“What’s your plan?” Paloma asked.
“We’re going to bust through the door and get the peacock ring,” Gael said. “Once inside, I’ll confront Mr. Farill. I’ll stand just like this and tell him, ‘Hello, my name is Gael Lorca Castillo. You framed my father. Now you will confess like the scum you are.’” Gael lurched forward toward the door Mr. Farill entered. Paloma tugged him back by his shirt.
“Are you nuts?” Paloma whispered. “You can’t just barge in there and say things like that.”
“I thought it sounded really good,” Gael said with an offended tone, and looked to Lizzie for support.
“You watch too many movies,” she said with a smirk.
“Look, say whatever you want, but he doesn’t have the peacock ring,” Paloma explained. Gael narrowed his eyes at her.
“You still don’t believe us? What more proof do you need?”
“No, I totally believe you guys. I just know he doesn’t have it … because I do. I found it. It’s safe in my memory box at home.”
Lizzie’s and Gael’s mouths dropped open in shock.
“I know it’s cray cray, but I found it!” Paloma gushed. “And it’s more beautiful than you can imagine.”
Me, Frida, and the Secret of the Peacock Ring Page 12