“It that a dog? Someone get it out of here!” Sam cried.
Zaiba rushed over to her shrieking cousin, just missing Roberto who had joined her on the sofa and was trying to lick the henna on her feet before dashing off again. This time heading for the buffet table…
“Oh no you don’t, you rascal!” Tanvir bellowed. He lunged for Roberto, who had hopped up on to the table, and missed, crashing into the table and sending plates of meat and salad flying.
“Roberto, no!” Zaiba and Poppy cried out in unison. But it was too late, the pup lost his balance on the wobbling table and stumbled straight on to the beautifully decorated cake that Hassan had made, leaving paw prints in the icing.
“Nooooooo!” Hassan cried, his arms reaching out in despair. The loud noise spooked Roberto, who stole another samosa and then fled out of the patio doors and back into the hotel grounds.
Sam burst into tears and sank down in a heap on the sofa. “Not our beautiful cake!” she wailed. Sadly, she looked down at her sticky sari and the spot on her feet that Roberto had licked. The henna design had become smudged and smeared, not having dried yet. Zaiba came over to comfort Sam and noticed that the SamTan design on her arm had also been destroyed.
“Maybe we could fix it…” she tried.
“No, no, it’s gone. This was supposed to show how long our love would l-l-last!” Sam burst into tears again.
“My beautiful cake,” Hassan howled. “It took me five hours!”
He walked over to his niece to put a comforting arm round her shoulder, though it seemed more like he was the one who needed support.
Zaiba rushed over to the patio doors and peered out into the garden. The fairy lights strung along the path revealed a trail of muddy footprints and some blue icing sugar on the white stone walkway. They seemed to lead over to the pond and then – Zaiba squinted harder – no. It was no use. The grounds were huge and she couldn’t see any further. If only she had a pair of super-strong binoculars to capture his escape route.
“Mr Rollings, after that dog!” Mr Ainsley commanded, appearing through the crowd. Mr Rollings was the dutiful, if a little out-of-shape, doorman. Zaiba and the crowd watched as he jogged outside, only to return a few minutes later, red-faced and empty-handed.
“Not a whiff of him, sir. How did the dog even escape?”
“A chamber maid has reported that the next-door room had left their door open. He clambered over the balcony fence and straight out of their room.”
Zaiba’s stomach lurched. She was sure she had shut the door behind her. Or maybe she’d been in such a rush to get back to the party, she’d forgotten… She felt a firm hand land on her shoulder and looked up. It was her dad, his brow creased into a frown.
“Zaiba,” he said in a quiet voice. “I want you to go back to the hotel room, now. I don’t know how you were involved in this but you can explain later.”
Zaiba started to say something but her dad’s face grew even sterner. She nodded. She wanted more than anything to run into the grounds and search for Roberto, but now wasn’t a good time.
“The same goes for you two.” Her dad looked at Poppy and Ali, shaking his head. “I’m disappointed. If your father is flat out on the floor, you help him, you don’t use him for hurdle practice! Respect your elders.” He shook his head one final time and then pushed his way through the crowd back towards the sobbing Sam.
“I was quite proud of that jump,” Ali whispered. “His tummy was really sticking up into the air!”
“Ali, don’t,” Poppy said, a pleading look on her face. “We’re in enough trouble as it is. I hope he doesn’t tell my mum.” She looked at Zaiba. “What should we do now?”
Zaiba thought for a moment. “We lie low. Let’s head back to the hotel room and regroup.”
“You mean do as we’re told?” Ali raised his eyebrows. “Radical.”
The trio silently slipped past the partygoers, who had gathered in huddles and were whispering to each other. Snippets floated over, such as “naughty dog” and “spoilt” and “see those children?”. It was all too much. Zaiba was sure Roberto wasn’t really naughty, even if he was a bit spoilt. He just liked food, like most dogs!
As they approached the grand marble lobby, they saw the small press team that had been doing interviews earlier. They had gathered in a semicircle around Maysoon. Zaiba, Ali and Poppy wriggled their way to the front of the group as journalists fired questions at the celebrity.
“Can you confirm the dog’s name?”
“Maysoon, are you aware that #dogdisaster is the number one trending topic online?”
“Did you let the dog out?”
Georgia was furiously scribbling on a clipboard, trying to keep a record of all the questions.
“Maysoon had absolutely nothing to do with this!” she boomed. Her pen flew into the air and landed by Poppy’s feet.
Poppy picked up the pen for her and handed it back over. “Oh, a personalized pen!” Along the barrel was WH in gold lettering.
“Give me that!” Georgia snapped, snatching back the pen. “I mean … thank you.”
The journalist with the thick black eyebrows noticed and picked up on the tension.
“Excuse me. I’m Damon Harvey with VIPTV.” He pushed a microphone into Georgia’s face. “I’ve heard talk that this is just a publicity stunt to promote Maysoon’s new film? Do you want to comment on that Ms…?”
“Ms Stevens,” Georgia replied nervously. “And no. No, we do not!”
She quickly led Maysoon away from the prying journalists and into a private room.
“Oh, we need to plan a search party immediately!” Zaiba heard Maysoon sigh as she was led away. “I also need a camomile tea.” She paused in the doorway and threw a pleading look back at the gathered journalists and photographers. “Someone, please! Loose leaf only!”
“What’s loose leaf?” Ali asked as Georgia followed Maysoon. She gave one final glare at the group gathered in the lobby, before slamming the door shut.
Most of the assembled press team started milling about, drinking coffee and checking their phones. None of them seemed to care about finding Roberto, they just wanted Maysoon. It looked as though these investigative journalists weren’t as good as their job titles. Zaiba felt a thrill of anticipation. But I could investigate! She felt her detective skills kicking in again. The mission to find a celebrity had been fun, but this was a real-life puzzle.
Zaiba heard soft footsteps behind her and turned round. A teary Sam had emerged from the Mehndi party. Zaiba felt her heart sink to her stomach at the sight of her cousin looking so devastated on her big day. But Sam’s tears suddenly dried up as she watched a waitress scurry through Maysoon’s door, carrying a tea tray. They just caught glimpse of the star, reaching for the silver teapot as a member of staff softly shut the door.
“Was that…?” she breathed, wide-eyed.
“Yep.” Poppy smiled. “It’s Maysoon!”
“Wow,” Sam said shakily. “I’m her biggest fan! I’d give anything to meet her. Imagine if I could get a photo.”
A light bulb suddenly pinged in Zaiba’s mind. That’s it! She hadn’t been able to protect Sam from Roberto, but maybe she could make things right again.
“Darling.” Tanvir appeared by Sam’s side, doing his best to put on a brave smile. “We’re about to cut the cake.”
“The ruined cake? That the … dog … touched,” Sam asked, her eyes filling with tears again.
“Well. Yes. But we’ve cut round the paw prints and honestly you can’t tell the difference,” Tanvir tried his best to cheer her up as he led her back to the party.
Zaiba turned back to Poppy and Ali. “I have to do something to make Sam’s party special again. Something to clear this mess up,” she said, chewing her lip.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?” a voice said from the main doorway. Mariam was standing there, her arms folded.
“Leave us alone, Mariam,” Ali replied.
“E
veryone’s talking about how Sam’s Mehndi party will be remembered – a doggy disaster. I don’t know what you did, Zaiba,” Mariam said. “But I’m sure you three are behind this chaos.” Her eyes narrowed.
She shook her head in disgust then turned and walked back towards the function hall, closing the doors behind her. Zaiba watched her cousin leave. Why was Mariam always turning up at the worst moments? Why couldn’t she just leave Zaiba alone?
“Come on, let’s go.” With a sigh, she turned to lead the others to their room, but just then there was a sound from Mr Ainsley’s office.
“This is a disaster!” Mr Ainsley came out of his office to stand behind the reception desk. If he’d had any hair left, he’d have been tearing it out. “I knew getting to host Maysoon’s champagne reception so last minute was too good to be true!”
“But you were so excited about it…” Liza ventured timidly.
“Of course I was!” Mr Ainsley paced up and down behind the desk. “But that’s only because we got to host it instead of that blasted White Hall with their all-glass solar-powered ceiling and their self-check-in machine!”
“Ah yes… Why couldn’t they host Maysoon?” Liza asked.
Mr Ainsley’s eyes glinted, or perhaps they just caught the light of his extremely shimmering cufflinks. “Their self-check-in machine had an … unfortunate meltdown and ended up switching the names around. They had to cancel all their bookings. But that would never happen with our good old-fashioned human receptionist, would it?”
Liza nodded, keeping her eyes firmly fixed to the ground.
“Wow,” Poppy whispered. “Mr Ainsley seems like a tough boss…”
“Or just a meanie,” Ali suggested.
“Now, where are we with the search party for the runaway dog?” Mr Ainsley barked, not unlike a dog himself.
As the staff began scurrying in all directions, Zaiba noticed something sticking out of the back of the rubbish bin on the far side of the lobby. She hurried over and tugged on the loose end that was poking out of the bottom of the bin. It seemed like a long piece of rope but made of leather… She tugged and tugged and out flew—
“Roberto’s lead!” she announced, holding the lead aloft.
“Where did you find that?” Mr Ainsley snapped, grabbing the lead.
“Be careful, Mr Ainsley, we don’t want to contaminate the evidence,” she said seriously.
“Evidence? But it’s just a lead!” Mr Ainsley cried, carefully holding the lead between his thumb and forefinger.
“The lead was found in the bin.” Zaiba raised her voice so that the assembled staff could hear her. “I have reason to believe that it was deliberately taken off Roberto and disposed of here. Roberto didn’t escape he was—”
“Kidnapped!” Liza suggested, looking excited by the potential mystery.
“Maybe not kidnapped,” Zaiba quickly added. “But encouraged to run off, perhaps.” She decided not to mention that it might have been her who had forgotten to close the door that allowed Roberto to run away.
Mr Ainsley, who had been staring at the lead, seemed to snap out of his daze. “Right, thank you. But now I think it’s time you went on your way. Off you go.”
Zaiba, Poppy and Ali were reluctantly making their way up the stairs when Maysoon swung open the door of her private lounge and strode into the lobby.
Her face crumpled at the sight of Roberto’s lead but no Roberto and she began sobbing, silently this time, her shoulders shaking. It was almost too much for Zaiba to bear.
Before they went any further, the trio looked back at the scene. Maysoon scanned the group in the lobby. She straightened her shoulders and looked from face to face. “I just have one question for you all. Who let Roberto off his lead?”
Thud… Thud… Thud…
Thud… Thud… Thud…
Thud—
“Ali, cut that out!” Zaiba snapped. “The other guests will complain!”
Ali paused from where he’d been repeatedly (and annoyingly) throwing a rubber ball against the wall of Poppy and Zaiba’s room. He’d already tried to keep himself occupied with ten sudoku puzzles but that had only taken him twenty minutes. No one in their family completed sudoku faster than Ali.
Zaiba took a deep breath. She had been on edge with nervous excitement after hearing Maysoon’s words just after they had been ushered out of the lobby. “Who let Roberto off his lead?”
As if reading her mind, Poppy asked a question in a shaky voice. “Do you think we should tell the grown-ups what you saw? The hands letting Roberto off his lead?”
THUD.
“Are you mad?” Ali almost screeched, finally stopping his game with the rubber ball. “That would mean telling them we were snooping on the celebrity and that we went up into the attic—”
“She’s only trying to help,” Zaiba said in a soft voice.
The three of them fell into silence, their brows furrowed and arms crossed. There was a crime unfolding before them and they needed a place to begin their investigations.
“Come on.” Zaiba perked up. She was the head agent and it was her duty to keep her team in high spirits. “Why don’t we sit out on the balcony? We’ll go crazy squashed up in here.”
They settled themselves in the lawn chairs on their balcony, breathing in the dusk air and gazing out over the glittering lights of the town. Far below, the sound of a gentle melody floated up on the breeze. Zaiba chewed her lip. She had promised Sam that her Mehndi party would be disaster free, and yet a dog on the loose had managed to spoil everything. This wasn’t what she’d wanted for her cousin at all. Zaiba shook her head. Then she had an idea. If she found Roberto for Maysoon, maybe then the singer would agree to meet Sam. And surely that would save her ruined party?
“This hotel has a biiiiiggg garden,” Poppy said, interrupting her thoughts.
“It’s 2.5 acres,” Ali informed her. “Not including the maze.”
“There’s a maze?” Poppy asked. “Where?”
Zaiba snapped back into detective mode and pulled the map from the back of her book. She pointed to the maze. “It’s in the north-eastern corner of the grounds. I drew this little compass by the side so we can check the direction against it.”
She looked up into the evening sky, her eyes searching for the brightest star in the sky – the North Star! She spotted it floating above the tennis courts at the far end of the grounds. Then she remembered the sentence they were taught at school – naughty elephants squirt water to show the order of north, east, south and west. Using her arm like a compass she turned to east and tracked down until…
“There! I see it!” She pointed towards a group of hedges arranged in a geometric pattern.
As Poppy and Ali stared in the direction that Zaiba had pointed, Zaiba hurriedly got out Eden Lockett’s Detective Handbook and flipped through it. Using the light flooding out of the room behind them, she was able to find the page she wanted. Aha! She stabbed a finger at a little diagram.
“I knew it,” she said. “There’s a maze in Eden Lockett’s Detective Handbook. It’s a bird’s-eye view diagram.”
“What’s that?” Poppy asked.
“A drawing of how the maze would look from above,” Ali said, always eager to share his knowledge.
“No, I mean what’s that?” Poppy pointed to a scribble in the margin of the book and looked at Zaiba.
“Oh…” Zaiba hesitated. “That’s a note from my mum.”
Ali patted his sister on the arm and went back into the bedroom to give them some space. He wasn’t a big fan of any talk that involved emotions.
“You mean your stepmum, Jessica?” Poppy asked.
Zaiba took a breath. “No, my birth mum. She was called Nabiha but I call her Ammi.” Zaiba explained tentatively. She had never told her best friend all the details before, but now that Poppy had met her entire family it seemed right.
“My dad doesn’t really talk about it, but based on what he’s told me and Aunt Fouzia sharing some stories… I th
ink she was in another country when she passed away.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry, Zaiba.”
“It’s OK, I was very young so I don’t really remember. And Dad is happy now that he’s met Jessica.”
“I like Jessica a lot. She lets me borrow her lip gloss!”
The girls giggled.
“I got my Eden Lockett books from Ammi.” Zaiba’s voice softened as she turned the battered old novel over in her hands. The cover was dog-eared from constant handling, over the years. “The perfect reminder of my real mum. They first came out when Ammi and Aunt Fouzia were little. These are first editions!”
“Ohhhhhhh,” Poppy said. “So that explains it.”
“Explains what?” Was Poppy turning her detective skills on Zaiba?
“Why you’re so determined to be an agent. It’s not just because of Aunt Fouzia. Your mum was obsessed too!”
Zaiba laughed. “I suppose Ammi is a bit of a mystery to me…”
“Zaiba,” Poppy said, pulling her friend into a hug, “Thanks for telling me about your ammi.”
“Now we can read the notes together!” Zaiba smiled. They both began to study the words in the margin:
What’s the difference between a maze and a labyrinth?
Maze = multicursal
Labyrinth = unicursal
Hmmm. Maybe solving a crime is like walking in a maze!
“Ummmm, what on earth does that mean?” Poppy said, frowning.
“I have no idea,” admitted Zaiba. “But my ammi was definitely clever…”
Ali must have been listening from inside because he came running out on to the balcony to take the book from Zaiba and study the pages.
Poppy laughed. “I thought you weren’t interested in our little chat?” She winked at Zaiba.
Ali ignored her, staring so hard at the diagram that his nose nearly touched the page. Suddenly, he spun the book round and pointed at the maze.
“It means that with a maze you have options, but with a labyrinth there’s only one correct route.” He smiled triumphantly.
The Missing Diamonds Page 5