Jessi and the Jewel Thieves

by Ann M. Martin

  We strained to hear the conversation.

  “We’re almost ready for this job,” the voice went on. I recognized it as Frank’s. “We could even do it tomorrow. But there are still a couple of details to take care of, and I need your help. So are you in? Or are you out?”

  It was the same argument they’d been having the night before.

  “I’m in, I’m in,” said Red. “You talked me into it.”

  I guess “If you back out now, I’ll kill you” is a pretty persuasive argument.

  “All right then,” said Frank. “Let’s get going.”

  Quint and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Come on,” he said. On our way out of the apartment, Quint called out to his mother. “We’re going out for awhile. See you later!”

  “Just be sure you’re back from your lunch by two o’clock,” she answered. Quint had a rehearsal that afternoon in preparation for the evening performance. His parents were going out with friends at the same time, so Stacey and I had volunteered to baby-sit for Morgan and Tyler.

  We ran out of Quint’s building just as Red and Frank were emerging from theirs. “Whoa, get back,” whispered Quint. “Let’s see where they’re going.” We watched intently as the men walked up the block and then crossed the street. “Looks like they’re headed for the park,” Quint said. “Let’s go.”

  I noticed that the police car had disappeared. Most likely, it had been there for some other reason. In any case, no police were following Red and Frank. It was up to us now. We headed up the block, sticking close to the buildings so that the thieves wouldn’t see us if they turned around. Then we crossed into the park, as they had.

  Central Park is a pretty amazing place. It’s not just trees and grass. It’s chock full of roller-skaters and joggers and bikers. Also kite-flyers, baby-stroller pushers, dog-walkers, and softball-players. Also — well, I could go on forever. Let’s just say a lot of people are doing a lot of different things. Also, there are all these neat things to see, like the very place where we were entering the park. We walked beneath this big arbor, with trailing vines all over it. It was like walking into a fairy tale. And then there’s Strawberry Fields. What is that? Well, it’s a memorial for John Lennon. You know, the Beatle who died? People come from all over to see it. Part of it is this design in black-and-white stone that says “Imagine” in the middle of it. I was almost distracted by that, but Quint pulled on my arm. “Come on,” he said. “We’re going to lose them if we’re not careful.”

  Luckily, Red’s outstanding feature (his hair!) made him easy to spot. And since we were in the park, it wasn’t hard to stay close behind him and Frank and still stay hidden by trees and shrubs.

  We were so close to them, in fact, that we could pick up bits of conversation now and then. We heard Red ask Frank if he had a cigarette. We heard Frank tell Red it was supposed to rain the next day. And we heard them talking about the Palm Court, which Quint told me is a restaurant at the Plaza Hotel.

  They crossed the drive, where traffic goes through the park, and so did we. They kept walking, and soon we all emerged near a fountain. “Bethesda Terrace,” said Quint. “This is a neat place to hang out on a sunny day.”

  I saw a lake nearby, with rowboats on it. Red and Frank headed toward it. “I wonder if they’re going to go for a row!” I said, giggling. I wasn’t feeling so nervous anymore. In fact, I was kind of enjoying myself.

  “Stay close,” said Quint. “We don’t want to lose them if they go into the boathouse.” He pointed to a building. “That’s where you can rent boats. They also have bikes you can rent. Plus a café.”

  Next, we followed Red and Frank past the little pond where people sail their model sailboats. I remembered it from other visits. “There’s the Alice statue,” I said, pointing. I gazed at the giant statue of Alice in Wonderland. Every time I’ve seen it kids have been climbing all over it. That day was no exception.

  “Watch out!” cried Quint. “They’re getting ready to leave the park, I think. Hmmm, Seventy-ninth Street. Wonder where they’re headed.”

  I was a little sorry to leave the park. I think it’s my favorite place in New York, next to Lincoln Center, that is.

  “Aha!” said Quint, after a few minutes. “They’re going into the museum.”

  We stood for a moment and watched as Red and Frank climbed the big stone steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s a huge building, and it looks incredibly impressive, but also kind of friendly. Why friendly? Well, for one thing, these colorful banners hang from the front. They put them up to announce special shows. Also, the steps are full of people who are waiting for friends, eating pretzels they’ve bought from vendors on the sidewalk, or just sitting in the sun. It looks like a fair or something.

  We raced up the stairs behind Frank and Red, and into the dark, cool entrance. “Wow!” I said, looking around. We were in a huge, cavernous hall.

  “Darn,” said Quint.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t have any extra money — not if we want to take a cab when we go to lunch. Do you have any?” He pointed to a sign that said, PAY WHAT YOU WISH, BUT YOU MUST PAY SOMETHING.

  “Nope,” I said. “Nothing extra. I guess that’s the end of the line. We can’t follow them any farther.” We watched as Red and Frank disappeared into the crowd. “I wonder what they came here for, anyway,” I said, as we walked back outside.

  “Jessi, do you think —” Quint said, in an awed voice. He was pointing to a red and orange banner that said, COMING SOON: JEWELS OF THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE.

  I stared at it, open-mouthed. Could Red and Frank actually be planning to rob the Metropolitan Museum of Art? Suddenly, I realized I might be in over my head.

  After Quint and I had gazed at the banner for a moment or two, we walked down the steps to the sidewalk. “Can we rest for a few minutes?” I asked. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

  “Sure,” Quint said. He led me past the museum. “How about here, near the temple? We can sit on the grass.”

  I studied the huge glass structure that loomed over us. It looked like a giant greenhouse, but inside, instead of plants, was a temple! That’s right, an entire Egyptian temple that was brought over and set up inside its own wing attached to the museum. It’s made of big tan-colored stones, and looks incredibly old. It is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. It took my mind off Frank and Red, for a few minutes at least.

  “There’s still nothing we can do,” said Quint, as if he’d been thinking the situation over. “I mean, we can’t walk in and tell the guards that someone is planning to steal the Russian jewels. They wouldn’t believe us, and why should they? We have no proof. It’s just a guess.”

  I shook my head. “I know. We’re really stuck. We can’t go to the police until we have more to tell them, but the longer we wait, the better the chances are that Frank and Red will steal the jewels.”

  “We’ll just have to stay on our toes,” said Quint. “And we can’t forget that they know our names. They could be watching out for us, just like we’re watching out for them.”

  I hadn’t forgotten, not for one minute. The only reason I’d been able to enjoy following those crooks through the park was because we had been behind them. For once, I didn’t have to worry about them being behind me.

  “Hey, aren’t we supposed to meet Stacey and her dad for lunch?” asked Quint, looking at his watch. “It’s almost noon. We should call them.”

  We stood up and headed for a phone booth. I dialed Mr. McGill’s number, and Stacey answered right away. “Hi!” I said. “Are we still meeting you for lunch?”

  “Definitely,” replied Stacey. “We’ve been shopping all morning, and I’m starved.”

  “Where should we meet you?” I asked.

  “It’s up to you and Quint. Wherever you guys would like to go is fine with us.”

  I covered the mouthpiece with my hand for a second and looked at Quint. “It’s up to us where we go,” I told him.

&
nbsp; His eyes lit up and I knew what he was thinking. “The Palm Court,” he said.

  I nodded. “Could we go to the Palm Court?” I asked Stacey.

  “Sure,” she said, sounding a little surprised.

  “I always wanted to see the Plaza,” I went on, hoping to explain my choice.

  “Sounds like fun. Can you meet us there at twelve-thirty?”

  I checked with Quint, and he nodded. “We’ll be there,” I said. I hung up.

  Quint checked his watch again. “If we take a cab, we’ll be there in no time,” he said. “We can hang out here for a little longer and see if the men come out of the museum.”

  We picked out a place on the steps in front of the museum and settled in. All around us, people were eating lunch, talking, playing pat-a-cake with their babies, and reading. I’ve noticed that New Yorkers have an ability to make themselves comfortable wherever they are. One woman was even holding up a reflective tanning mirror to her face. I was so involved in my people-watching that I forgot to Frank-and-Red-watch, but luckily Quint wasn’t as distractable as me. He kept an eagle eye on the entrance.

  “Is that them?” he asked, at one point. He jumped up and shaded his eyes, trying to get a better look. I jumped up, too, but all I saw was a skinny girl with short red hair. We sat down again. The sun felt good on my shoulders, and it had warmed the stone steps. I leaned back and closed my eyes, feeling very sleepy all of a sudden.

  “Jessi, wake up!” cried Quint, shaking me. “We better get going or we’ll be late for lunch.”

  “I wasn’t asleep,” I protested. But I rubbed my eyes and yawned. Maybe I had drifted off for a few seconds. After all, I’d barely slept the night before. It wasn’t surprising that I was tired. “Did they come out?” I asked.

  Quint shook his head, looking disgusted. “No,” he replied. “It looks like we’ve lost them for the day. Unless they turn up at the Palm Court.”

  “Let’s go,” I said. “Maybe they’re there already.”

  We walked down to the street, and Quint stepped forward to look for a cab. I pulled his arm. “I can do it,” I said. “Check this out.” I looked up the street until I saw a cab coming, and then I threw up my arm. The cab pulled over, and I opened the door for a surprised looking Quint. I slid in behind him. “The Plaza, please,” I said to the driver. I was tempted to add, “And make it snappy,” like they do in the movies, but I was afraid it might sound rude. Besides, we weren’t in that much of a hurry.

  Quint gave me a grin and held up his hand for a high-five. “All right, Jessi,” he said. “Very cool.”

  We arrived at the Plaza right on time. Quint led the way through the hotel’s lobby, which was full of very rich-looking ladies with fancy luggage. Just seconds ago, in the cab, I’d been feeling very sophisticated. But now, suddenly, I felt like a hick. I gazed around, noticing the beautiful furniture, the heavy drapes, the thick carpets. Then I looked down at myself and realized that I was most definitely not dressed for the Plaza. I hadn’t seen too many other people in jeans. I felt kind of shy and embarrassed. Then Quint tugged on my arm.

  “Look,” he said. “Does she look familiar?” He pointed to a portrait of a spunky-looking little girl.

  “Eloise!” I said. “That was my favorite book when I was little.” I walked closer to the picture. It was signed by the artist, Hilary Knight. “This is great,” I said. “It’s like Eloise was real.” The book is about this little girl who lives at the Plaza and gets into all kinds of mischief. It’s really funny.

  “There’s the Palm Court,” said Quint, pointing. I pulled myself away from Eloise and followed him toward the restaurant. When we reached the entrance, this man in a tuxedo stopped us.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, sounding rather snooty. He obviously couldn’t figure out what two kids like us were doing at such a fancy restaurant.

  Quint impressed me by acting extremely cool and mature. “We’re meeting some friends,” he said. “They may have already arrived. It’s the McGill party.”

  “Ah, the McGill party,” said the man. “Right this way, sir.” He led us through the restaurant to a table where Stacey and her father were waiting. Then he pulled out a chair for me and gave Quint a slight bow.

  “Thank you,” said Quint and I at the same time.

  “Hi, Jessi,” said Stacey. “Isn’t this place elegant?” She smoothed the pink tablecloth in front of her.

  I looked around. I hadn’t even been paying attention to the decor. When we walked through the restaurant, I’d been looking around at the people, checking to see if Frank and Red were there. I had a feeling Quint had done the same thing. In the cab, we’d discussed what we would do if we saw them. Our plan was to A: alert the police immediately if the two of them did anything at all suspicious, or B: make a run for it if they seemed to recognize us.

  I had noticed that most of the people eating at the Palm Court looked very wealthy. In fact, many of the women were wearing jewels! I’d never seen so many diamond rings, pearl necklaces, and emerald earrings in my life. I wondered if Frank and Red might be planning a daring midday hold-up in the middle of the Palm Court. Now that would be exciting.

  “Jessi!” Stacey was giving me a funny look. “What are you thinking about? You’re acting like you’re lost in space.”

  “More like ‘out to lunch,’ ” cracked Quint. Everybody laughed, even Mr. McGill.

  Just then, a waiter came by. He was wearing forest-green pants, a starched white jacket, and a mustard-colored sash. I made sure to take note of his outfit, so I could tell Claudia about it. It was a pretty cool uniform. “Would you care to order?” he asked.

  “We need just a few minutes,” said Mr. McGill. The waiter nodded and disappeared.

  I looked at the menu in front of me, wondering what kind of exotic food might be served at a place like this. It turned out to be a pretty regular menu. There were things like club sandwiches, chicken salad, and seafood salad.

  “Let’s get the tea sandwiches,” said Stacey. “They’re always fun.”

  “Fine,” I said. I was still thinking about Frank and Red, and I was a little too nervous to concentrate on the menu.

  Quint and I kept glancing around surreptitiously, but Frank and Red did not appear. Finally, when the sandwiches arrived, I decided to forget about the jewel thieves and pay attention to my lunch at the fabulous Palm Court. Just as I was biting into a cucumber-and-watercress sandwich (with the crusts cut off — very fancy), I heard a lovely sound. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Harp music,” said Stacey. “A harpist plays here every day at lunch.”

  I looked around and saw the harpist. “Wow,” I said. “Awesome.” And finally I forgot about Frank and Red and just enjoyed the feeling of “dining out in style.” Quint seemed to enjoy himself, too, although I’m not sure he was crazy about the tea sandwiches. The tiny squares of banana bread with pink cream cheese did not exactly make a hearty lunch, and he looked a little silly trying to eat them delicately. I had a feeling he’d much rather have ordered a cheeseburger and fries.

  By the end of the meal, Frank and Red had not shown up, but I didn’t care. I was going to be able to go back to Stoneybrook and tell everyone that I’d eaten lunch at the Plaza.

  “Thank you, Mr. McGill,” I said. “That was a wonderful lunch.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” chimed in Stacey.

  “Thanks a lot,” added Quint.

  Stacey’s father had signalled for the check and the waiter had brought it in a leather folder. Mr. McGill counted out bills and tucked them inside. “Well,” he said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wasn’t sure you’d think the harp music and the little sandwiches were cool, but I guess if you wanted cool you’d have chosen the Hard Rock Cafe.”

  “That’s right,” said Stacey. “This time we were going for elegance, instead. Right, Jessi?”

  “Right,” I answered, feeling guilty. I hadn’t been thinking about elegance when I chose the Palm Court. I’d been thinking about jewel
thieves. I felt bad about hiding the truth from Stacey, but I still thought it would be a bad idea to tell her about our mystery. After all, Quint and I had things under control. If I told Stacey what was going on, she’d probably send me back to Stoneybrook.

  “Okay, kiddo,” said Mr. McGill to Stacey. “I’m off to the salt mines. Have fun baby-sitting. We’ll have dinner together, okay?”

  Stacey nodded. I could tell she was mad that her father was going to his office while she was visiting for the weekend, but she was trying not to show it. Stacey’s dad is kind of a workaholic, and I know that bothers her. He just never seems to stop working, and he doesn’t have a lot of energy left over to spend on his family. In fact, from what Stacey’s told me, his work habits were part of the reason for her parents’ divorce.

  We walked out of the restaurant together. Stacey’s dad hugged her and gave her some money. “Why don’t you kids take a cab up to Quint’s?” he said.

  We thanked him again and said our good-byes. I turned to check the entrance to the Plaza one more time, looking for Frank and Red, and by the time I turned around Stacey had hailed a cab.

  We reached Quint’s just in time. Mr. and Mrs. Walter were dressed and ready to go out, and Quint had to leave for his dress rehearsal. “We really appreciate your taking care of Morgan and Tyler,” Mrs. Walter said to Stacey and me. “I know you baby-sit at home all the time, so it’s nice of you to work while you’re on vacation.”

  “That’s okay,” said Stacey. “We love to sit, and it’s always fun to do things in the city with kids.”

  “Anyway,” I added, “Morgan and Tyler are great kids. It’ll be a pleasure to take care of them.”

  Quint rolled his eyes. “You can’t be talking about Morgan and Tyler Walter!” he said. “The pests of the universe!”

  Morgan and Tyler jumped on him and pulled at his shirt. “We are not!” cried Morgan.

  “You’re a pest,” yelled Tyler. “You are!”

  “Okay, okay,” said Quint, grinning. “I’m a pest, and you guys are perfect. Is that better?”