The Diamond Mistake Mystery

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “Allow me.” Star reaches for my head, stretches, and yanks at a blue-winged yellow swim cap till it covers all my hair. “There now. You don’t even need face paint.” Next, she snips off some blue tape and shapes it along the seams above my armpits.

  “Great.” I check out my costume in the mirror and straighten, throw my shoulders back, dig my fists into my hips. I become Wolverine.

  “Your claws.” Renée helps me put on some dark-coloured mitts with plastic blade fingers.

  “You next,” Star says. “Hurry. ’Cause you definitely can use makeup.”

  Renée needs privacy to change, so I go downstairs to take out Minnie while I’m waiting. Everything’s more tricky with Wolverine claws on, but I manage to get the cage open, put a piece of cashew on my arm, and stick it in the cage, waiting for her to crawl up and get it. She takes tiny, quick steps toward me, twitching her nose. Mickey almost beats her to it, but I block him with those plastic blade claws.

  I have to squeeze my face to stop from laughing as Minnie finally tickles up my arm.

  That’s when Renée steps in. All in ninja black. She looks so different … so grown-up. Even Minnie freezes. I’ve never seen Renée without any sparkle on her, although her white wig glows against the black suit. Her eyes look brighter and sharper, outlined in dark charcoal with some blue around them. And she’s not wearing her glasses!

  “Can you see okay?” I ask.

  “Not perfectly, no. But I don’t want to ruin the look. C’mon. Let’s go get August.”

  Before I put Minnie back in the cage, I reach ever so slowly to pat her head with one finger. She doesn’t even look afraid of my long claw. “Good girl,” I tell her as I lower her back into the cage.

  We head back upstairs.

  “Will you be warm enough like that?” Mrs. Kobai squints at us as we move toward the door.

  “It’s super nice out,” Star tells her even though it’s a cool day. Who wants to ruin a great costume with a jacket?

  “See you later, Attila,” Renée calls.

  “Bye, Star. Thanks for all the help,” I say.

  “Don’t forget this.” She hands me a tinfoil unicorn horn. It’s stapled to a skin-coloured hairband.

  “Wow. Thanks for remembering.”

  And we’re off.

  “Hey, X-Men!” Reuven calls to us from next door. “Going to the library thing?”

  “No, we’re doing battle with evil mutants,” Renée answers.

  “Do you have my money for the metal detector yet?” Reuven already nagged us at school yesterday.

  “We saw your dad last night,” Renée said. “He told us it was free!”

  Reuven rolls his eyes. “It cost a hundred. Fifty dollars is only fair. I deliver the Burlington Post because he can’t afford to give me allowance.”

  “I walk dogs,” I answer. But still, I feel a little bad for him. “We’ll give you the detector back and help you deliver papers next Thursday.”

  Renée’s mouth drops. She knows how much work it is to fold and deliver all the papers and flyers, especially if we walk Ping and Pong at the same time.

  “Deal,” Reuven says. “But if you find the pink diamond with the metal detector, you pay the full price.”

  “Deal,” Renée answers this time.

  His family always needs money. I’ve seen his dad collect bottles on recycling day. What would he do if he found an expensive diamond? Why wouldn’t he try to sell it?

  Next house over, we pass Mr. Rupert sitting on a lawn chair on his porch with his large cat on his lap. Both of them stare at us. “Don’t break into any homes!” he calls.

  “Have fun at the Brilliant Diamond Show,” Renée hollers back. “Maybe we’ll see you and Mrs. Klein there.”

  “Why, have you turned into jewel thieves?” His toothy grin doesn’t seem friendly at all. Looks more like what Ping does before he snaps.

  “Wow, Mr. Rupert seems in a mood,” Renée says when we’re farther away.

  “Maybe he doesn’t like shopping for diamonds with a girlfriend.”

  “You’re right. Maybe he thinks he needs to buy Mrs. Klein one.” Renée giggles.

  A couple houses down the street, we’re at the Whittinghams’. As we walk up the steps to the door, it opens before we can ring the bell. Out steps a mini pirate. It can’t be. I refuse to think of August as a suspect. He wears a poufy white shirt hanging over baggy black capris, a black scarf tied around his head, and an eye patch with a big hole that frames his pale-blue eye. His hand rests on the top of a plastic sword stuck through a wide black belt. The blade of his sword is too long for him and drags along the sidewalk. Flap, flap, flap.

  I can’t help noticing he’s wearing his pink plastic diamond ring.

  “Have fun.” Mrs. Whittingham gives us a tiny quick wave.

  “We will,” Renée answers.

  “How are you, August?” I ask as I pull his sword up higher.

  He nods. “Okay.” He sounds grim.

  “We’re going to have fun today,” Renée tells him like it’s a command. We continue walking.

  “We’re still bringing Pearl?” he asks, sounding hopeful, but I’m not sure what he’s hoping for.

  “Sure. Don’t worry, she’s not such a big junk wagon!” I tell him. Sheesh, now Pearl has me using her kiddie insult. “Once you get to know her, you’ll like her.” We walk past the Bennetts’ house. Even though it’s on the other side of the street, I keep my head turned away. But I still hear Ping’s barking.

  “Pearl never sits still on the story carpet,” August grumbles.

  I imagine Ping jumping up and down in front of the picture window; I don’t even have to look.

  “So?” Renée says.

  “She won’t sit on her bottom like Miss Buffet tells her.”

  I walk quicker.

  “Again, what’s the big deal?” Renée asks.

  “No one can see over her head.”

  “You can still listen,” I grumble back at him. I know bright-light girls can be annoying, but then, so is August. “You don’t have to see the pictures in the book every moment of the story.”

  “We missed show and tell all week, because of Pearl.”

  “Was it your turn?” Renée asked.

  “No. It was Pearl’s. But she wouldn’t listen. She didn’t sit on the carpet properly …”

  “So the teacher didn’t let her show her pink diamond,” I finish for him. “Listen, let’s stop at my place before picking up Pearl. I want Dad to see our costumes.”

  “Wait a minute!” Renée snaps. She holds up her arm across the sidewalk so we all stop walking. “What day was show and tell?”

  “Monday. First, she wouldn’t come sit on the carpet, then she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She kept pushing me …”

  “But she lost the diamond ring Thursday,” Renée says, dropping her arm.

  We start walking again, more slowly.

  “Pearl lies.” August grabs a strand of his long, brown hair and twirls it over his finger, just like Pearl.

  Little kids, honestly. I shake my head. “Pearl just has a good imagination.”

  Renée won’t leave it alone. “Maybe she only noticed she lost it Thursday, when she left her jacket on the playground.” Renée turns to me. “But what if it dropped out of her pocket Monday?”

  “Or Tuesday or Wednesday?” I say. We’re at my house now and turn up the sidewalk. Mistake five, thinking our diamond thief had to have scored his heist on Thursday. Which means if Attila was quick, he could have picked the diamond up and sold it and bought a car in that time. Or even had pieces taken from it to make Star’s earrings.

  DAY THREE, MISTAKE SIX

  “That diamond could have been lying in the grass for days. Anyone could have found it,” Renée says as I open the door to my house. She gently nudges August ahead.

  “Yeah, but do the Lebels even walk Pearl to school normally?”

  “Mmm. Could be on the floor of their car,” Renée says.r />
  We head inside and I call out, “Da-ad! Are you home?”

  Dad steps out of his office with a Noble Dog Walking mug in his hand. “Hey! You guys look great!” He crouches down in front of August. “What’s your name? Captain Long John?”

  August looks at the floor as he answers, “August.”

  “My favourite month of the year,” Dad says.

  “It’s his mother’s maiden name, not his birth month,” Renée corrects Dad.

  “Great name, anyway,” Dad says.

  Août, août, août, the French word for August bounces into my head for no reason that I can tell. I like the way it sounds, like a French owl hooting.

  The telephone rings, knocking the August ball out of my mind.

  “That’ll be your mom,” Dad says. “She called twice already for you. Take it in my office.” He waves with his cup. “Renée and August, join me in the kitchen. I’ve just fried up some bologna.”

  I run to the portable on Dad’s desk and pick up. “Hi, Mom. Are you coming home today?”

  “Yes. I should be there in about six hours.”

  “Maybe you can see the Brilliant Diamond Show with us. After the Halloween party, that is. You have to see my costume. It gives me muscles. I’m ripped!”

  “Ha ha. Ask Dad to take a picture, just in case.”

  “In case the flight is delayed? Is the weather bad over there?”

  “No, no. More like in case traffic is bad from the airport.” Mom sighs. “Please don’t worry.”

  I’m quiet for a moment so Mom tries to cheer me up.

  “I was telling the pilot about your raccoon adventure, and he told me about another raccoon escapade …” I can hear her smile as she pauses.

  “Go on, go on!”

  “It happened in Saskatoon, nowhere near my plane. It seems a raccoon scampered out of an air conditioner hose into the duct system of an Air Canada jet.”

  “How did they get it out?”

  “With difficulty. The mechanics and baggage handlers tried. Animal Control came. They removed panels from the plane, and still no one could coax the raccoon out. Finally, the animal made a break for it all on its own.”

  I can picture the face of the raccoon, the dark mask markings around scared, bright eyes. It reminds me about the ring-tailed lemurs that Mr. Kobai showed us yesterday. I tell Mom about how he Skyped in from South Africa and how we asked him about diamonds, which he seemed to know a lot about.

  “Probably because he works for a diamond company,” she reminds me.

  “True. Also, he’s a lot nicer than I thought he was.” Still, he may have passed on his knowledge of diamonds to Attila, I think. “Mr. Kobai showed us some monkeys, and in the end, they took off with his tablet. Too funny!”

  “Not to Mr. Kobai, I bet. Everyone thought the air-vent raccoon was hilarious, too. The first hour. After a three-hour delay, no one laughed anymore.” She pauses for a moment. “So, I take it you never found the diamond ring?”

  “No. We didn’t. We think Pearl may have lost it days before. It could even be in her parents’ car, for all we know.” I explain about the show-and-tell delay.

  “Awww. It’s hard for a little girl to sit still. Miss Buffet should have let her show her diamond ring, anyway.”

  “Yeah. Especially because all the other kids had toy rings that came in birthday loot bags. A party she wasn’t invited to.”

  “That’s rough. Poor kid. But you did your best searching for that ring. Today, her parents will definitely realize it’s missing. She’s going to have to own up.”

  “Maybe.” I still hope that the ring thief will show his or her face at the Brilliant Diamond Show, that everything will come together and we’ll figure out who picked it up.

  “Listen, I have to board now. You’ll let me know how it goes when I get home? Love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.” I don’t hang up. I wait for her click. Then I still hang on a while, soaking up all the mom-esphere left on the line.

  “Stephen,” Dad calls from the other room. “We saved you some bologna!”

  That’s when I put the phone down and rush to the kitchen.

  Dad hands me a plate as I sit down at the table. He often mixes a little mustard with honey to make the bologna even more tasty. Today, he’s put it on pretzel buns. Fancy and delicious.

  Renée and August have already finished their lunch, so I eat quickly. We need to hurry to pick up Pearl in time.

  After a big mustardy burp, I say, “Excuse me,” and wipe my mouth, and then we all troop out together. “See you later, Dad!”

  At the Lebels’, the door creaks open before I even knock. “’Bout time,” Mr. Lebel rasps in a gravelly sore-throat voice. Dressed in a blue sports jacket and grey pants with a pale-purple shirt, he looks human today. Hardly any hair shows on him except for the long, brown stuff on his head and the curly, black wisps at his neck where a gold chain nestles. He pushes Pearl forward.

  She’s wearing a long, poufy dress the colour of a robin’s egg. “Whiiiiiyyyy!” she neighs.

  “When the library party finishes, you can just bring her over to the Brilliant Diamond Show,” Mr. Lebel says. “Thank you very much. Have fun, ma belle.” He kisses the top of Pearl’s head.

  “Whiiiiiiyyyy,” she whinnies again and stomps her imaginary hooves.

  The door shuts again.

  No big panic about a missing diamond. How can the Lebels not have noticed by now?

  “Did you tell your mom and dad about losing the diamond ring?” I ask her.

  “No-ooo!” She draws the O out like a unicorn would, if it could talk or even existed. Then she puffs out her lip like she’s going to cry.

  Renée quickly steps in. “Look what I have for you!” She holds out the cardboard-tube unicorn horn and then slips it over Pearl’s head, pulling some hair out to cover the band that holds it in place. “There, a princess unicorn! Take a picture, Stephen. Show her.”

  I pull out my phone and snap a shot of Pearl, then lean down so she can see the screen. August crowds around, too.

  “Doesn’t she look perfect, August?” Renée asks.

  August nods silently.

  “I like your eye patch!” Pearl says. “And your sword.”

  Seems like we’re off to a great start on Project Make-a-Friend.

  Pearl skips and hops as we make our way along the sidewalk. When we turn onto Duncaster, she stops to neigh.

  August stares at her.

  Pearl turns to him. “Is your mom a pirate woman?”

  August shakes his head and looks pouty.

  “Your mom talks like a pirate!” Pearl says.

  “She does not!” August says.

  “Does too!” Pearl says.

  “Does not!” August answers. “She’s from Australia. That’s the way everyone talks over there.”

  “Is that where pirates live?” Pearl asks. “Pirates steal things.”

  So much for the better start.

  “Stop it! You’re not being very nice!” Renée says. “Pirates come from all different countries.”

  “August is a pirate. His mom must be a pirate.” Pearl whinnies and starts up galloping again.

  “Really, Pearl?” Renée grabs her by the shoulder to slow her down. “You’re wearing a unicorn horn. Is your mom a unicorn?”

  “Whiiiiiyyyy! Whiiiiiyyyy! ” Pearl shrugs Renée’s hand off and stomps angrily.

  “You should tell August you’re sorry,” I say gently. I don’t want either of them crying.

  We’re at the Brant Hills Community Centre now.

  “Say you’re sorry or we’re not going to the party,” Renée snaps and stands blocking the entrance.

  “Soreeeeeeeh!” Pearl whinnies and Renée pushes the door open.

  She gallops into the hallway and we follow. On the left side is the library and on the right is the gym where the gem show is taking place. We turn to the left.

  Pearl’s pirate comment makes me wonder. Did she really think
Mrs. Whittingham was a pirate because of her accent? Maybe Renée was onto something when she thought August’s mom could have found and kept the diamond ring to get out of the daycare business.

  We line up behind a bunch of kids standing near the events room, where the librarian passes out scavenger-hunt sheets. The noise and the hunt take up all my brain power. Mistake number six is not thinking through all that pirate stuff and just plain asking Renée all about it.

  DAY THREE, MISTAKE SEVEN

  Besides us, there are at least three other pirates at the party, plus two Wonder Women, three witches, a pumpkin, a pencil, a couple of Batmen, four unicorns, and six princesses. Only one whinnying, foot-stomping unicorn princess, though.

  Since August and Pearl don’t read well yet, the librarian says we can work as a team on the scavenger hunt. The two of them zip off. Pearl spots Attila’s stuffed parrot instantly. August finds the first clue, a book on pirates, and the second, a treasure map, not long after. The map should lead us to Black Bart, the pirate artist, but Pearl heads directly for Attila, who is standing in the corner with an easel. As a result, we’re first up for having our portraits drawn. We all scrunch together on the library couch.

  “You’re squishing me,” Pearl complains to August.

  “We have to stay really close together,” I tell her. “This is like a super-slow selfie.”

  “C’mon, we’re cozy,” Renée says, wrapping her arm around the two of them. I’m on the other side of August.

  None of us can see our picture as Attila sketches with quick strokes of a charcoal pencil. He glances up from time to time. Even though he no longer wears that oozing wound makeup on his face, he really suits his Black Bart outfit. His mouth turns in a way that says he’s ready to laugh at the world and do whatever he likes. He does whatever he wants already for his art.

  I just know he’d sell off a pink diamond if he felt like it. Attila’s eyes look at us, but it’s as though he’s seeing into another world. A dream world all of his own, with his own diamond-stealing rules. Pearl and August stop squirming for a moment and Attila finally snaps out of it. “Done!” he says.

  All of us jump up to crowd around his easel.

  He’s sketched us into the characters we’re dressed as. He gave me more muscles and my eyes look fierce; Renée, he definitely made taller and older. He gave August a scar leading from his eye patch to the corner of his mouth, and Pearl now has a real live horse muzzle. She grabs the drawing from his hand and gallops around, neighing happily.