The Missing Diamonds

by Annabelle Sami

  They emerged into the hall and Zaiba beckoned to them, lifting up the end of the tablecloth. Poppy was eyeing up some skewered chicken that was being brought out to the buffet table but Zaiba caught her hand and dragged her underneath before she could be lured away.

  “What’s this, our new headquarters?” Poppy grumbled. It was a far cry from the luxury of Maysoon’s room.

  Once they were all settled beneath the table, Zaiba brought out her detective’s notebook and opened up a fresh page. In big capital letters she wrote at the top:

  WHO STOLE THE COLLAR?

  “Let’s think.” Zaiba tapped the pen on her chin and thought aloud. “The last time we saw Roberto wearing the collar was in Maysoon’s hotel suite while she was being interviewed. So it’s most likely to be someone who was in that room.”

  “What about—” Poppy began, but just as she spoke, Zaiba spotted Mr Ainsley’s polished shoes walk past the edge of the tablecloth.

  “The hotel manager,” Zaiba whispered, once the feet had disappeared out of the room. “Mr Ainsley. He was there, pouring cups of tea, remember? And he’s always gliding around so silently … perhaps he’s guilty?”

  “Wait a second.” Ali shared a confused glance with Poppy. “Mr Ainsley wants his hotel to look posh, not the scene of a crime.”

  “Yeah, and he’s too sophisticated to be a thief,” Poppy agreed.

  But Zaiba had already started compiling a list, ignoring both of them. She made frantic scribbles in her notebook then she held it out for them to read:

  EVIDENCE THAT MR AINSLEY IS THE THIEF

  Moves around silently – weird!

  Was at the interview when Roberto was taken off the lead – suspicious!

  Knows the layout of the hotel like the back of his hand. Knew Roberto would have an escape route through our balcony.

  Could get the hotel chef to prepare the meat that lured Roberto out into the maze.

  MOTIVES

  Needs the money to restore the hotel.

  Obsessed with lucky charms and glittery objects. This could be a new one for his collection.

  Desperate to get four gold stars.

  Under stress from extra guests/needs money to deal with the greater demand.

  CONCLUSION: GUILTY!

  “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he was behind those ‘accidents’ that have been happening around the other hotels in the area.” Zaiba raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

  “Wait just a minute, Zaiba,” said Poppy, putting on a stern voice. “Like you always tell me it’s innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Yeah, sis,” Ali added. “Maybe you just want to solve the case so badly you’re missing some things…”

  Zaiba lowered the notebook and stared at her list, her cheeks flushing. Doubt crept in, making her tummy feel like it was wriggling around. Am I being too keen? What would Eden Lockett do?

  “OK, are there any other suspects then?” Zaiba looked at Poppy but Ali snatched the pen out of her hand.

  “I’ve got an idea!” Ali quickly began jotting down his ideas.

  EVIDENCE THAT DAMON HARVEY IS THE THIEF

  Was also in the room when Roberto’s lead was taken off.

  Knew Roberto had been found from the maze before anyone else.

  Snuck up to Maysoon’s suite without being stopped – knows how to be sneaky!

  Won’t have his reputation ruined by the chaos in the hotel (like Mr Ainsley would).

  MOTIVES

  Obsessed with getting a dramatic story about Maysoon to report for his news show.

  Could give him a big break in his career to be able to break the news of the missing pooch.

  “You forgot to add ‘suspicious eyebrows’ in the evidence bit,” Poppy said, grabbing the pen. “And I’ve got my own theories too.”

  EVIDENCE THAT LIZA THE RECEPTIONIST AND/OR CLARK THE WAITER IS THE THIEF

  “Hey,” Zaiba interrupted. “Liza was so nice to us, she can’t be a suspect. And Clark just got annoyed and kicked some crates. Who could blame him after the way Mr Ainsley spoke to him!”

  Poppy tapped the pen against the paper and gave Zaiba a hard look.

  “OK,” Zaiba said, her shoulders slumping. “Go ahead.” All three of them had the right to pursue their investigative instincts, didn’t they?

  Also know the layout of the hotel very well. Liza gave the tour in the morning.

  Could easily have got one of the chefs to cook the meat as bait.

  Don’t like Mr Ainsley (because he’s a total meanie to them)!

  MOTIVES

  Get revenge on Mr Ainsley for being so horrible.

  Could quit this job with the money they make from the diamond.

  Feel powerful rather than feeling like Mr Ainsley’s puppets.

  Zaiba, Poppy and Ali stared hard at the options laid out before them. It seemed like another maze, but this time written down in words.

  “Of course it would help if we could get the fingerprints from the dog lead,” Zaiba thought aloud. “But then it must have been held by almost every member of Maysoon’s staff, including … what was she called? Georgia! She was quite rude and a little shifty – could she be involved? Although Maysoon seems to really trust her…”

  From beyond the buffet table, they heard Mr Ainsley talking to someone.

  “Of course, and once again may I apologize wholeheartedly for the uh, disturbance, to your party. I do hope this gift can go some way to make up for it. I wish you all the best with your future wedding and don’t forget to leave us a review online.”

  Zaiba peered from under the tablecloth and saw Mr Ainsley with Sam and Tanvir. He handed them a glimmering horseshoe on a satin ribbon. Another lucky charm. They shook hands and then he quickly glided off back towards the lobby. SamTan shared a tender hug before returning to their party guests.

  “Let’s follow him,” Zaiba whispered, clambering out from under the table once they were gone.

  “Zaiba, wait!” Poppy and Ali hurried to catch up with her.

  They slipped out into the lobby and followed at a distance down the corridor, watching as Mr Ainsley barked at every single staff member he passed.

  “Straighten those tablecloths!”

  “Polish those doorknobs!”

  “This painting is not perfectly centred!”

  With each order his voice became higher until he was practically singing soprano.

  “See,” Zaiba whispered. “He’s acting suspiciously!”

  They arrived in the lobby and hung back by the sofas as Mr Ainsley approached the reception desk. Some staff members were bringing up crates from the cellar as Georgia took Mr Ainsley aside. Some of the crates had lids in place, but some had already been opened. Zaiba guessed she was going through arrangements for Maysoon’s reception the following evening.

  “I need all of these crates counted and put in the outside storage, and make sure you dust each bottle. They’ve been down in the cellar.” Mr Ainsley put his hands on his hips and surveyed his staff.

  Wait, Zaiba suddenly thought. Crates from the cellar. Hadn’t those bottles been kicked about?

  “Be carefu—” she cried. But it was too late.

  A sudden – BANG! – came from one of the open crates. Followed by another:

  BANG!

  Then another:

  BANG! BANG!

  The champagne bottles were popping after being fizzed up by Clark’s tantrum! The movement must have set them off.

  POP!

  A cork flew past Ali’s head and smacked on the wall behind him.

  “Aargh!” Ali yelped. Zaiba pulled Ali and Poppy down behind the sofas for cover.

  Another – POP! – sent a cork ricocheting off an ornate doorknob and crashing into an expensive-looking vase, which smashed to the floor.

  Then time seemed to slow down as a cork flew towards Georgia…

  SMACK!

  It hit her square in the forehead. She stood wobbling for a few seconds before her eyes rolled back
and she crumpled to the floor.

  “Oh my gosh! Ms Stevens, are you all right? Someone send for the doctor, sharp!” Mr Ainsley threw himself down beside her and gently slapped her cheeks, trying to revive her. But she flopped in his arms, like one of Zaiba’s old rag dolls.

  “Zaiba! Look!” Poppy whispered.

  “I know, she’s fainted,” Zaiba said. “It’s OK, Mr Ainsley has it under control.”

  “No.” Poppy gently shook Zaiba’s arm. “I mean, look at her designer trainers. They have snakeskin-pattern soles. That’s so cool! I think…”

  Zaiba sighed. “Not now, Poppy. You can tell me about the fashion stuff later.”

  “Listen, Zaiba—”

  But instead of listening to Poppy, Zaiba was busy watching Mr Ainsley. It was his turn to be led to the chaise longue for a sit down.

  “Have you any idea how much that champagne cost? The reception is tomorrow! And now Maysoon’s own PA knocked out in my lobby!” He put his head in his hands.

  Hmmm. That funny feeling returned to Zaiba’s belly.

  “Would he really ruin his reputation for a diamond collar?” she mused.

  “Now you’re getting us.” Ali nudged her.

  “But if Mr Ainsley doesn’t have the diamond collar, could it be Liza or Clark? Or even Georgia? I mean, Clark is clearly angry with Mr Ainsley, and he was also mean to Liza. And no one is closer to Maysoon than Georgia…”

  The three friends stared at each other as she left the thought hanging in the air.

  Georgia Stevens, Maysoon’s PA, was lying stretched out on the sofa in the lobby, an ice pack pressed against her head. The hotel medic had checked her over and deemed her perfectly fine (apart from the large red bump forming on her forehead). To prevent a further media storm, Liza had placed an ornate screen in front of her to give her some privacy as she recovered. The rest of the staff carried on with their duties as usual, helping other hotel guests with their evening plans. Zaiba noticed a few of the Mehndi party guests had torn themselves away from the buffet to come and see the drama that was taking place in the lobby. Word spread fast in this hotel!

  Zaiba, Poppy and Ali were free to stare from their hiding spot behind the sofas as, moments later, a familiar face entered the lobby with a dustpan and brush to sweep up the broken vase.

  “Clark,” Zaiba whispered, watching intently as the waiter bent down next to Georgia and began sweeping.

  “He’s like a bad pimple, he just keeps popping up,” Poppy said, screwing up her nose.

  He moved across the floor, closer and closer to Georgia, whose head turned to one side, and then suddenly he was behind the screen. From this angle, the pair were only visible to the three young detectives. As Clark ducked further behind the screen, their heads came close and Zaiba saw Georgia’s lips moving rapidly.

  “Are they whispering to each other?” Poppy said, her eyes bulging.

  “Seems like it,” Zaiba replied.

  “Look at his shoes, they’re covered in dust,” Ali said, frantically tapping Zaiba’s shoulder.

  Mr Ainsley never allowed any dust inside the hotel and it had been a while since Clark had been in the cellar… So where had he been recently? “Ali, your detective instincts—”

  “I know, they’re really coming on.” Her little brother rolled his eyes. “You should have more faith in me!”

  But Zaiba was already peering harder at the soles of Clark’s feet as he and Georgia continued to whisper.

  “Look,” she said. “The prints on his soles… Where have I seen those before?”

  “His soles have zigzag prints and Georgia’s shoes have snakeskin. That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier!” Poppy hissed. “We saw them on the hidden staircase.”

  Zaiba looked at Poppy. “I’m sorry, Pops. I should have listened to you.”

  Poppy gave her a reassuring smile. “Oh, it’s fine! We’ve got them now!”

  “But got them doing what?” Ali asked confused.

  That was the one question Zaiba couldn’t answer – yet.

  Zaiba’s mind started going into overdrive as she pulled her crime-solving partners further back behind the sofas. From there, they crawled towards a better hiding place behind the plant pots, keeping their bodies folded low. If they were going to go over their theories, they needed to make sure they weren’t going to be disturbed.

  “Right,” Zaiba said, as they crouched down. “The footprints we saw on the hidden staircase were snakeskin and zigzag prints! But why were Clark and Georgia in the secret staircase? Perhaps they were casing the joint before they put their plan into action? This Clark guy, he’s been everywhere. The Mehndi party, Maysoon’s suite, the cellar… Remember that conversation with Mr Ainsley? The hotel manager was horrible to him. Maybe he wants revenge!”

  Zaiba pulled out Eden Lockett’s Detective Handbook. She flicked through the pages until she came to her notes from that afternoon. “There –” she pointed to the page – “in the cellar, Mr Ainsley called Clark ‘Mr Stevens’, and do you remember what Georgia’s last name is?”

  “Stevens!” Poppy said, wide-eyed.

  “So they could be brother and sister?” Ali said.

  “Those sneaky Stevens!” Poppy scowled.

  Zaiba shut her eyes and thought hard. There was something else, something important…

  “Ah!” She clicked her fingers and her eyes snapped back open. “Aunt Fouzia said that they tried to book another hotel but the manager called her up to cancel. The manager’s name was Mr Stevens!”

  “Which hotel was that again?” Ali was struggling to keep up.

  “The White Hall,” Zaiba said.

  Poppy screwed up her face as she remembered. “WH, the letters on Georgia’s pen!”

  “And it was Georgia who handed that chef a fifty-pound note earlier… It could have been for the plate of bait.”

  Zaiba quickly scribbled down their findings in her notebook:

  Georgia + Clark = siblings

  White Hall Hotel manager Mr Stevens – their dad?

  Footprints on the hidden staircase, same as their shoes – why were they sneaking around?

  Clark sabotaging the champagne in the cellar.

  Georgia bribing the chef to make food that would lure Roberto out into the maze.

  Mr Ainsley horrible to Clark – revenge?

  Zaiba paused. The footprints were on the hidden staircase, before Mariam came and scuffed them away! But they weren’t there now. Oh no! All the air in her chest deflated.

  “We can’t prove that Georgia and Clark were on the hidden staircase,” she said. “There’s no proof of their footprints any more.”

  Ali suddenly scrabbled around in his pockets and starting tapping on his phone.

  “Um … hello, Ali? We’re in the middle of a crime-solving conundrum right now!” Poppy said.

  “Aha! I knew I took a picture.” Ali turned his phone round triumphantly to show a high-definition picture of the footprints in the dust on the hidden staircase. “See, with the time stamp and everything.”

  Zaiba and Poppy gave each other a look before launching themselves on to Ali in a massive hug.

  “You genius! That could be crucial evidence,” Zaiba said, squishing her little brother even tighter.

  “OK, OK, now get off me,” Ali wheezed.

  Zaiba let him go and placed her notebook back in her bag.

  “Are we going to tell everyone?” Ali asked excitedly.

  Zaiba shook her head. “Not yet. There are still too many parts of this puzzle we don’t understand. Why would they have stolen the diamond collar? Where is the diamond collar? Why were they on the hidden staircase? And how did they even get in there? No one had used the lobby entrance to the secret staircase for ages – remember all those cobwebs!”

  Ali’s grin spread across his face.

  “What?” Zaiba grabbed his arms. “Tell us!”

  He unpeeled himself from her grip. “Well, remember when we were in Maysoon’s room, and you two
were fawning over the sunken jacuzzi?”

  “Yes?” Sometimes little brothers could be really irritating. “So what? You were looking at the flat-screen TV!”

  Ali shook his head. “I wasn’t just looking at that. I was looking at the locked door too.”

  “What locked door?” Poppy asked. “Was it part of the walk-in wardrobe?”

  “No.” He took a deep breath, explaining as though Zaiba and Poppy were tiny children. “Zaiba, give me your map of the hotel.”

  She grappled in her little yellow bag and pulled it out. Ali pointed to the rooms on the west wing of the hotel. There were a few rooms that ran next to the hidden staircase under the turret in the central lobby. He tapped a finger against the side wall of the biggest room that was right next to one of the landings on the hidden staircase. It was Maysoon’s room.

  “Oh my!” Zaiba breathed. “That’s the door out on to the secret staircase. One of the locked doors we passed on the way up. Someone could have used that door to get on to the staircase.”

  “Exactly.” Ali passed back the map to her.

  “We’re so close to solving this investigation,” Zaiba said. “I can just feel it!”

  Peering out from behind the plant pot, Zaiba saw that the lobby area had emptied. Even Georgia and the screen had gone. Phew, they sure worked fast at this hotel!

  “Come on, you two – it’s all clear,” she told the others. They emerged from behind the plant pot and noticed a large banner being wheeled in for tomorrow’s champagne reception. The staff were already getting the private lounge ready. A large picture of Maysoon in black and white was adorned with giant lettering that read “Introducing Maysoon in her first breakout role!”

  They had no idea that Maysoon had decided she couldn’t face going to the reception. Zaiba imagined the star up in her room now, packing her bags ready to leave before the most important event of her career had even begun.