by Ron Roy
“And he’s up for reelection,” Lauren said. “When people see those pictures, they’ll vote for Melrose Jury.”
“We need to find out who did it,” KC said. She watched Lauren’s face to see if she looked guilty.
“But who could have done such a rotten thing?” Lauren asked. Then her eyes grew wide. “It had to be someone at the Halloween party!”
“We know everyone who came, except for one person,” Marshall said. “Someone was wearing a green costume that looked like a weird sea creature.”
Again KC studied Lauren’s face. Did her expression change when Marshall mentioned the person in the green costume?
“I don’t remember anyone like that,” Lauren said. She led the kids over to the chairs. “When I finished shooting all the pictures, I counted them. There were twenty-seven. That includes you two kids, plus all your school friends, plus the seven adults.”
“That makes twenty-six,” KC said. “Nineteen plus seven.”
Lauren squinted her eyes, counting silently. “Oh yeah, and that teenager, someone’s nephew. He was dressed as a mouse, I think.”
“That’s Simon Tansy,” KC said. “The president’s maid is his aunt.”
Lauren grinned. “He was kinda cute. Even when I took his picture, he was talking on his cell phone,” she said. “Anyway, I got him, too, and that made twenty-seven in all. Trust me, no green sea monster came through the tent to have his picture taken.”
Lauren seemed to be telling the truth, KC admitted to herself. Or maybe she was a good actress along with being a good photographer.
“Then he must have snuck in without going through the tent,” Marshall said.
“I don’t understand how someone dressed like that could have gotten past the two guards,” Lauren said. “They stood outside the tent checking invitations.”
“Two? But my mom said there were three guards,” KC said.
Lauren shrugged. “I only saw two,” she said.
Just then KC heard a telephone ring.
“Excuse me,” Lauren said. She crossed to the counter and picked up a cell phone. She spoke into it for a few minutes, then came back. “Sorry, but I have to take this call.”
KC stood up. “Did you get a good look at Simon’s cell phone?” she asked Lauren.
“Not really. I was focusing on his face,” Lauren said. “Why?”
“Maybe his cell phone was also a camera,” KC said.
The kids thanked Lauren, then headed back to the White House.
“Do you believe her?” Marshall asked. “I don’t. She knows all about cameras, and she had plenty of time to do it.”
“Maybe,” KC said. “But I still want to talk to Simon. If his cell phone is the kind that can take pictures, he could’ve put them on the Internet.”
“Why would Simon want Melrose Jury to win the election?” Marshall asked. “That would mean you guys would have to leave the White House and his aunt would lose her job.”
“I don’t know,” KC said. “But there was something sneaky about him this morning. He looked like he had a secret.”
They found Simon on the couch in the living room. He was staring at his cell phone’s small screen. He shut the phone when KC and Marshall came into the room.
The TV was on, and the news was all about the president doing mean things at the White House Halloween party.
A man with blond hair and big teeth was saying: “This is Donny Drum, and I’ve got your news! Does President Thornton have a mean side that no one has seen before? Why else would he dunk a little kid? Why else would he make fun of Melrose Jury? We don’t know the answers to those questions yet. But what we do know is that this will not help the president on voting day. In fact, the latest polls show him slipping. Stay tuned for more on this shocking development at the White House.”
KC turned the TV volume down, then she and Marshall sat across from Simon. “Nice cell phone,” KC said, nodding at the one Simon held in his hand.
“Thanks,” he said. “I got it for my birthday.”
“What else can you do with it, besides phone calls and text messages?” asked KC. She noticed that Simon seemed nervous. He was tapping his fingers on the table, and his face had turned pink.
“What do you mean?” Simon asked.
“I mean,” KC said, “can you take pictures with it?”
Simon nodded but didn’t say anything. He bent down to tie the laces of his running shoes.
KC glanced at Marshall.
“So did you happen to take any pictures at the party last night?” Marshall asked.
By now Simon’s face was beet red. “Yeah, a few,” he muttered.
“Can we see them?” KC asked.
“I know what you’re trying to do!” Simon yelled at KC. “You’re trying to blame me for those fake pictures of the president! Well, I didn’t do that!”
“Then why did you bring your cell phone with you to the party?” KC asked. “No one was supposed to have a camera.”
Simon opened his cell phone and pushed a few buttons. “My teacher told me I have to write a report about visiting the White House,” he said. “I wanted pictures for my report, so I snuck my phone in, okay?”
“Were you dressed as a gerbil?” KC asked.
“No, I was Templeton the rat,” Simon said. He looked at KC and Marshall. “He’s a character in Charlotte’s Web.”
“I know,” KC said. “It’s my favorite book.”
“But I didn’t do that stuff!” Simon stabbed a finger toward the TV set. “Even if I knew how to change the pictures, I couldn’t have put them on the Internet. My aunt’s computer crashed.”
KC watched Simon’s face. If he was lying, she couldn’t tell.
“Did you notice someone wearing a weird green costume?” KC asked Simon.
“It had stuff hanging on it,” Marshall added.
“Yeah, I saw it,” Simon said. “In fact, I have pictures.”
“You do?” KC said. “Can we see?”
“No problem.” Simon fingered a couple buttons, then held the phone so KC and Marshall could see the tiny screen.
Simon clicked through the pictures he had taken last night. Each picture showed kids and grown-ups in costume. “There’s your green guy,” Simon said.
“Could be a woman,” Marshall said. He nudged KC.
“Whatever,” Simon said. He paused on a picture of the strange costume.
“What are those long things supposed to be?” Marshall asked.
“I have no clue,” KC said. “There are a bunch of them, so they can’t be arms.”
“Sure they are,” Simon said. “The guy—or woman—is an octopus.”
Simon clicked ahead to the next picture of the stranger in green. “See, here you can count six dangly arms, plus his two real arms.”
“I knew it was some sort of ocean animal,” Marshall said. He put his finger on the cell-phone screen. “Maybe that plastic stuff hanging down is supposed to be seaweed.”
Simon found another shot of the green octopus. He was standing with some other grown-ups, watching kids dunk for apples. The president was there, too, on his knees next to the washtub.
The next picture showed the green costume behind the president. They were both watching a blindfolded kid trying to pin a wart on the witch’s nose.
KC noticed that the octopus was holding something shiny in one of his real hands.
“Can you make this one bigger?” KC asked.
“A little,” Simon said. He pushed a button and the picture enlarged.
“What’s in his hand?” KC asked.
“Is he eating something?” Marshall asked.
“No,” Simon said. “The dude’s got a digital camera!”
4
The Green Monster’s Secret
“He’s taking a picture!” KC said. “But he’s doing it when no one is looking at him. How sneaky!”
KC put her face close to Simon’s cell phone and stared at the screen. The green helmet had a plast
ic visor covering the eyes. KC tried, but she couldn’t see the face inside the helmet. Could that be Lauren? KC wondered.
Then she noticed something on one of the fake arms. It looked like writing.
KC put a finger on the picture. “Can you guys see those tiny black letters?” she asked.
“Where?” Marshall asked.
KC pointed. “See, on one of those arms.”
“Yeah, I see ‘em, but they’re too small to read,” Simon said.
“Wait a sec,” KC said. She yanked open a drawer where Yvonne kept a lot of stuff. She pulled out a magnifying glass and held it over the cell-phone screen.
“They look like letters,” Simon said. “The first one looks like a D or O, then W, S, and n. What’s that spell?”
“Nothing,” Marshall said.
“Weird,” KC said. “Look, the first three letters are capitals, but the n isn’t.”
“Maybe it’s part of someone’s name,” Simon suggested.
“Or a secret code!” Marshall added. “Maybe the green monster is really a spy who snuck into the party!”
Simon let out a laugh. “Or maybe he’s from outer space,” he said. “Maybe the guy’s a Martian who came down to see how earthlings celebrate Halloween!”
Marshall grinned. “Yeah, and when his trick-or-treat bag is filled with goodies, he’ll beam himself back up to Mars,” he said.
They looked through the rest of Simon’s pictures. There were a few more shots of the octopus holding a camera.
“I think the octopus took those pictures of the president, then changed them,” Simon said. “All he’d need is a computer with the right software to put them on the Internet.”
KC thought Simon was probably right. But what if he was just saying that to take the spotlight off himself?
“Anyway,” she said, “we need to tell the president about the octopus with the camera.”
KC and Marshall left the White House. KC knew the president was at campaign headquarters in the Washington Hotel. They hurried past the Treasury Department building and up the hotel steps.
KC led Marshall across the thick red carpeting of the lobby, past tall potted palm trees to a conference room around a corner.
“Oh my gosh,” Marshall said as they walked into the room.
It seemed like a hundred people were dashing around, speaking into cell phones or carrying files of papers. Nobody looked happy. The only smiles in the room were on the campaign posters showing President Thornton and Vice President Mary Kincaid.
Tables were jammed in wherever there was space. The tables held computers, telephones, bowls of campaign buttons, coffeepots, and trays of food. Men and women were using the computers and phones. The noise of dozens of voices filled the room.
KC counted six TV sets, all on. Each showed a different news channel. She recognized Donny Drum, but couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Red, white, and blue bunting hung from the table fronts. Balloons in the same colors clustered at the ceiling. On one table, a chart showed how President Thornton and Dr. Melrose Jury were doing in the polls today. The line for Dr. Jury was much higher than the one for Zachary Thornton.
“Can I help you kids?” a woman asked. Her hair looked as if she hadn’t combed it in a while. Dark circles under her eyes made her look tired.
“Hi, I’m KC Corcoran,” KC said. “Is the … is my stepfather here?”
The woman looked closely at KC. “Oh, of course,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you. This place is a madhouse today. He’s in that office.” The woman pointed across the wide room.
KC and Marshall walked around the tables, dodging volunteer workers and hopping over wires that lay on the floor like snakes.
The president sat at a desk speaking into a cell phone. His tie hung loose against his white shirt. As he talked, he was watching a small TV set. Like everyone else they’d seen, he had a grim expression on his face. Piles of pink message slips covered the top of the desk.
KC waited till he shut his cell phone, then she knocked on the door frame.
The president looked up. He smiled at his stepdaughter and Marshall. “Hey, come on in!” he said. “Got any good news? I could use some cheering up.”
KC told the president about the Halloween guest in the green octopus costume.
“Yes, I remember him,” the president said. “I thought he was some sort of sea monster.”
“Marshall thinks it was Lauren Tool inside the costume,” KC said. “He thinks she took those awful pictures of you.”
“Lauren?” the president said. “I don’t know, Marshall. I’ve known Lauren for a few years. In fact, I’ve hired her to take pictures in the White House before. I doubt she wishes me any harm.”
“I think it might have been Simon,” KC said. “He says he was taking pictures for a school report.”
“And you don’t believe him?” the president asked.
KC shrugged.
“I find it hard to believe that Yvonne’s nephew would do such a thing,” the president said. “I have a feeling that our camera culprit was inside that green costume. But I have no idea how he or she got past the marine guards and didn’t pass through the tent like everyone else.”
No one had an answer. Marshall told the president about the initials they saw on one of the octopus legs.
“D-W-S-N?” the president said.
“Or it might have been O-W-S-N, Marshall,” KC added.
The president shook his head. He tapped the telephone. “Know who that was?” he asked. “My campaign manager. Those two pictures on the Internet have cost me fifteen points. Melrose Jury is ahead. Phone calls are coming in here and at the White House, and they’re not very nice.”
He stood up and looked at the two kids. “I might be the first president in history to lose an election because I gave a Halloween party.”
5
The Disappearing Octopus
KC and Marshall walked back to the White House.
“We need to talk to the guards who worked at the party,” KC said. “Maybe they saw the octopus guy sneak in or out.”
“Unless the octopus was Lauren and she changed inside her tent,” Marshall reminded her. “She could’ve slipped out the tent’s back entrance and the guards wouldn’t have known.”
“Arnold might know who the three marines were,” KC said finally.
KC expected to see Arnold standing in his usual spot, guarding the private residence. But he wasn’t there. The marine who snapped to attention was shorter than Arnold. Like Arnold, he wore a crisp green uniform. His black shoes were so shiny they reflected the ceiling lights.
“Hi,” KC said. “We were looking for Arnold.”
“I haven’t seen him today, miss,” said the guard.
“But isn’t this his usual post?” KC asked.
The marine shrugged. “My sergeant told me to report here,” he said.
“Do you know which marines were on duty last night at the Halloween party?” Marshall asked.
“Sorry, I don’t know that, either,” the marine said. He smiled a little. “I’m not very helpful, am I?”
“Could I ask your sergeant?” KC asked. “Or whoever gives you guys your work assignments?”
“Sure,” the guard said. “Check the guard hut outside the rear entrance.” He looked at his watch. “Sergeant Royce should be there.”
The kids thanked him and raced down the long hallway. Outside the back entrance, they headed toward the guard hut. It didn’t really look like a hut. It was more like a small house, made of brick painted white. A path through a patch of lawn led to the hut. Rosebushes grew along the path.
Marshall stopped to admire a spiderweb in one of the bushes.
“Marsh, we have to find an octopus, not a spider,” KC said.
“It was here,” Marshall said. “What was here?”
Marshall plucked a strip of green plastic that had been hanging on a thorny branch. “The octopus,” he said, holding up the fragment.
>
“What’s that?” KC asked. “It looks like part of a green garbage bag.”
“I think that’s what it was,” Marshall said. “But last night, this was part of the octopus costume. Remember those plastic strips that looked like seaweed?”
KC grabbed the piece from Marshall’s fingers. It was about six inches long and one inch wide. “You’re right!” she cried. “You can see where someone cut it with scissors!”
Marshall looked around. “No one from the party should have been way over here by this guard hut,” he said. “So why was the octopus here?”
“Maybe this is where he snuck in so he wouldn’t have to go through the tent,” KC suggested.
“Snuck in how?” Marshall asked. “He’d have to climb over an eight-foot-tall fence.”
The door to the guard hut opened. A tall marine in a green uniform stood there. “Hi, Miss Corcoran,” he said, recognizing KC.
“Hi, are you Sergeant Royce?” KC asked.
The marine smiled. “That’s me,” he said. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the strip of plastic KC held. “What have you got there?”
KC thought Sergeant Royce looked a little too interested in this piece of plastic. She stuck it in her pocket. She was getting a funny feeling about this whole mystery.
“Um, we’re working on something for the president,” she said. “Do you know which guards were at the entrance to the Halloween party last night?”
“Sure,” Sergeant Royce said. “Come on in and I’ll check my duty roster.”
KC had never been in the guard hut before. It was decorated like someone’s living room, with chairs, a rug, and a TV in a corner. A large desk stood under an open window. KC noticed a jar of candy next to a laptop computer.
Sergeant Royce stepped over to the desk and picked up a clipboard. He flipped back a page and ran his finger down the sheet of paper. “Okay, there were three marines at the gate,” he said. “Corporals Ditz, Henry, and West.”
“Are they working today?” KC asked. “Can we talk to them?”
Sergeant Royce shook his head. “They’re all off duty,” he said. “They worked late last night cleaning up, so they get today off.”