by Zanib Mian
“Yeah!” said Daniel.
“Let’s make a list of said Charlie, excited. “I mean, nobody knows the details better than we do.”
I perked up.
I got us started. “OK. Who was around at the end, when Mrs. Hutchinson gave me the money?”
“Us. Your parents. My parents,” said Charlie. “Daniel’s parents. Mr. Martin. Mrs. Hutchinson, Mr. McLeary, Lancelot Macintosh, Mrs. Rogers, and Maryam.”
Then we all started talking at once about who we thought did it.
We had a pretty good list of suspects and their possible reasons for doing it.
1. MARYAM
Has been jealous right from the start. Big meanie. Super sneaky and quiet, so could easily have taken it.
MOTIVE: Wants to use the money to pretend she’s sold some of her art, which she hasn’t, and to destroy Omar’s plans.
2. MR. MARTIN
Was heard grumbling about cleaning the place up when he thought nobody was near him. Something about “not getting paid enough for this nonsense.” Had a good chance to snatch the money because nobody was paying attention to him as he cleaned.
MOTIVE: Disgruntled about not getting paid enough. Needs the money.
3. LANCELOT MACINTOSH
Nobody is that nice and cheery. In the movies, it’s always the nice guy, the one everyone likes, so it must be him.
MOTIVE: Needs money to replace the clothes in his closet, because they all shrank in the wash (which is why his pants are so short).
4. MR. McSCARY
Maybe he really is scary and was just pretending to be nice so he could spoil everything. He’s the principal, so he could stand near Mom’s bag without anyone thinking he was up to something.
MOTIVE: Wants to make us pay. For what? Ummmmmm, for being kids. He hates kids.
We completely ruled out Mrs. Hutchinson and any of our parents. We debated about Mrs. Rogers. I know her the most and I was super definitely 500% sure that it wasn’t her, but Daniel and Charlie insisted she’d had the best chance to take the cash while she was in the car with us. I didn’t like it, but I added her to the list.
5. MRS. ROGERS
Always full of surprises and often has a sly smile on her face. Had a good chance to snatch the money in the car.
MOTIVE: Just for some entertainment, because she’s funny like that.
And just for the fun of it, and to make us feel a bit better, we imagined some out-of-this-world suspects, too.
6. MIND MONSTER
Stormed in and simply took the money right before our very eyes, but he controlled our minds so that we didn’t realize what was happening until the next day, when he was already halfway back to Zeyr, the planet he came from.
MOTIVE: The ruler of Zeyr needs the money to plant trees, which they don’t have on their planet.
7. INVISIBLE MAN
Strolled in, dipped his hand in Mom’s bag and took the money without anyone seeing him.
MOTIVE: Chooses to use his invisibility for evil, rather than good. (Which, by the way, is the opposite of what I would do if I was invisible. I’d go and shut down factories that make too much pollution by flicking off their switches and leaving everyone wondering what happened.)
We decided to carefully investigate each of our suspects over the next few days.
“You live by Mrs. Rogers and with Maryam, so you’ll have to cover them,” Daniel said to me.
“Uh-huh,” I said, in my tummy.
“Don’t worry,” Charlie said. “Daniel and I will work on Mr. Martin and Mr. McScary, and we can figure out how to get to Lancelot Macintosh together.”
“Thanks, guys,” I said, slumping my shoulders.
* * *
• • •
That whole evening, Maryam was super annoying. She watched her
instead of agreeing to play Minecraft with me. I kept wondering if she did it or not: Would she really spoil things like that?
Over dinner, as I pushed my food around my plate because my tummy felt like it wasn’t going to accept any food at all—like it was going to chuck anything I swallowed right back up and out of the mouth I dared to chew with—I said to Maryam, “What do you think should happen to the person who stole the mosque money?”
Dad raised an eyebrow.
Maryam shrugged. “I don’t know. Go to prison probably. Right, Dad?”
Hmmmmm, quite a normal response. It was so hard to figure out if she did it.
Dad said, “I hope whoever it was gets caught, and if they do, the authorities will deal with them.”
Esa starting throwing his peas off his plate one by one.
“What on earth are you doing, Esa?” said Mom, jumping up.
“I can’t eat those,” he said.
We all exploded with laughter. Maryam sprayed juice all over herself and the table.
“Fruit and vegetables are always halal, dummy!” said Maryam, cleaning herself off.
As she wiped her mouth, I thought about Lancelot Macintosh’s mustache.
Also, why did he come to our talent contest? And could he make himself invisible?
CHAPTER 18
The next day, the most exciting thing happened during language arts. Charlie was sent to get some photocopies of our worksheets, and he came back all out of breath and wide-eyed with what looked like both
(It was sort of like the time he ate too much strawberry licorice and went all hyperactive.)
He sat down and said, “I can’t believe I’m still alive.
It was so fun but so terrifying.”
“What was? What did you do?” I whispered.
“Tell us,” said Daniel.
Charlie stood up and then sat down again and then tried to find his pencil before he finally blurted out,
“You? BROKE? You broke into . . . ?” I managed.
“Whoooooa. Yes, Charlie!” said Daniel.
“OK, well, actually I didn’t have to break in—the door was open. But I went in!!! I could see from the photocopy room that he wasn’t there, and I really didn’t know when he might come back, but something in me just said, and my legs started running without my brain giving permission!”
“What did you find?” I asked, still in shock.
“I was looking for the stolen money, but it wasn’t there.”
“That doesn’t mean that he didn’t do it, does it? He might have spent it.”
“Yes, you’re right, but I saw a copy of a letter on his desk that he had written to the local police station . . . and, well, it was all about the missing money and said how upset he was about the whole thing and how he wants them to do more to help us. And, well . . . I have taken the letter, and it possibly . . . be in my pocket.” Charlie breathed quickly in and out and bounced on his chair.
“Never in a would I have imagined you doing that, Charlie! I’m rubbing off on you!” Daniel gave him a proud slap on the back.
“Show us,” I squealed.
Charlie handed over the letter, and we passed it to each other secretly, ignoring nosy glances from Ellie and Sarah.
“Yup. He’s innocent,” I said.
“Innocent,” agreed Daniel.
“I feel like a or something.” Charlie looked at his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe what they’d done.
“You are, Charlie! That’s one suspect down, four to go. We’re like My brain went into overdrive, trying to think of how we were going to investigate everyone else. How could three kids be more like James Bond?
Daniel had his thinking face on. “I think I have a plan for Mr. Martin . . .”
Charlie and I leaned in just as Mrs. Hutchinson noticed that we weren’t really concentrating on our worksheets.
“Boys, don’t make me come over there to find out what you’re chatting about,” she said in her voice that she uses to me
an
Super spying was going to have to wait.
* * *
• • •
At home that evening, I couldn’t decide whether to think of moneymaking ideas or spying ideas—it made my head hurt! To cheer myself up, I imagined H2O trying to be a super spy and hiding his huge dragon body behind a tree, which made me laugh out loud.
The deadline for the mosque building work was drawing closer and closer. We only had eight days left. I looked through my keepsake box for inspiration and found a painting Esa had given me when he was two years old. It was in quite good condition and was of birds made out of his in bright colors. I had kept it because it was so cute (don’t tell anyone just how much I love him, OK?). I figured if it meant something to me, it might mean a lot to Dad.
So I went to look for Dad, and found him in the garden, pulling out some weeds, probably in exchange for Mom cooking dinner tonight. Dad would never do gardening just because he wanted to.
“Dad, will you buy this for $5,000?” I showed him the card. “Esa will never have tiny hands like this ever again . . .”
Just then, Mrs. Rogers popped her head over the hedge and said, “How’s the moneymaking going?”
“That depends,” I answered. “Dad? Was that a yes?”
“Um, no.” Dad shook his head.
“It’s going badly, Mrs. Rogers,” I said. But I laughed. I guess that had been a pretty
way to try to make some quick money. Dad and Mrs. Rogers laughed, too.
“You keep the painting, Omar—Esa made it especially for you. But I’ll let you have $10 for helping me with the weeds,” said Dad, opening his wallet.
“Cool!” I said, and stuck the money in my jeans pocket.
“And we could make some more cookies for you to sell, Omar,” Mrs. Rogers added kindly. “I know they won’t raise as much as the talent show, but every little bit helps, eh?”
Then and there, I decided to cross Mrs. Rogers off our suspect list. There was just she’d taken the money—she’d helped us a ton, and she’d been really looking forward to visiting the mosque with us, too.
CHAPTER 19
The next person we investigated was Mr. Martin, following
Daniel had decided we should watch the custodian during lunchtime so that we could set a We had started the day we made our suspect list, and soon learned that his routine went like clockwork. The important part for our plan was that every day at 1:20 he went to the old shed on the edge of our playground to return the broom and mop he’d used in the morning.
On Friday, we were ready to put our plan into action. I felt really nervous—the mosque’s deadline was coming up, and we still had no idea whether we would find the culprit.
At 1:15, Daniel quickly ran over to the shed while Charlie and I kept watch. He left his Batman wallet just outside the shed door so Mr. Martin couldn’t miss it. It had $5 in it, too. Daniel knew this was a big risk, because he might not get his money back, but he said he was happy to do it if we could find the thief.
Daniel ran back to us with his eyes all and we all went to sit next to the tree that would give us the best view of the shed without looking suspicious.
“So,” Charlie said, “if he keeps the wallet, he’s dishonest and he’s probably the one who did it.”
“Exactly,” said Daniel, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. He was really getting into this spying job!
Just a couple of minutes later, Mr. Martin appeared. For a second, we thought he hadn’t seen the wallet and we all held our breath while we waited to see what he’d do. Was our plan ruined? But after he put the broom and the mop away, he picked it up and looked around in a
like he was searching for who could have dropped it and whether they’d seen him find it.
We all made big eyes at each other.
But that afternoon in math, there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Martin came in looking worried. He’d been going around to all the classes to ask if anyone had lost their wallet.
Daniel made a big show of being really relieved to have it back and said about ten times. For a second, my tummy felt like it was scrunching itself up into a marble-size ball, but Charlie squeezed my hand and whispered,
He was right. Maybe the trick had been worth it, because now Mr. Martin was officially off the suspect list. It didn’t really make my tummy feel better, though, and all this ruling out of people made me because it made it more likely that it could be Maryam. It did seem like she had a very strong reason for doing it . . . I kept thinking of her objective:
I had to find out once and for all, so when Maryam went to take a shower that evening, I crept into her room. If she had done it, the money would still be there, because she wouldn’t have been able to spend it or donate it to the mosque fund without causing suspicion.
I started with her dresser, slowly sliding each drawer open, hoping not to see a bunch of cash, and just then:
It was Maryam. She had come back to get her special girly shower gel that she keeps in her bedroom so no one uses it by accident.
“How dare you? This is the last straw! You’re such an annoying and I’m telling Dad!” she threatened.
Then I did something that Maryam hadn’t expected me to do. And I hadn’t really expected to do. I threw myself into her big sister arms and cried.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed through snot and tears. “I just had to see if you took it, because I’m desperate and I’m sad and I’m worried and my tummy won’t stop hurting.”
Maryam hugged me back and told me to sit down. “I would never do that to you, Omar . . . Yes, I do call you names and tease you and things. And you get on my nerves
but still, you’re my only brother.”
That made us both laugh.
“Seriously,” she said. “I would never actually do anything that made you or Esa sad for real. I promise.”
I believed her. Because her hug felt real and not even Maryam can lie that well. I gave her one more hug and crossed her off our list.
CHAPTER 20
The countdown to the mosque’s deadline felt like it was going faster and faster and faster the closer we got to it. We had managed to talk to all of our suspects except Lancelot Macintosh. But with just two days to go, and since we’d ruled everyone else out, we decided that he had to be the
“Should we tell the police?” said Charlie at lunchtime.
“They won’t listen to a bunch of kids,” said Daniel.
“We have to try to lure him back into school,” I thought out loud. “Maybe if we tell Mrs. Hutchinson we really liked him and we want him to visit our class, she’d ask him?”
said Daniel and Charlie, freakishly at the same time.
“I know . . . I wish it wasn’t him . . .” We liked him a lot. But maybe that’s why we should be suspicious of him, we decided. In movies, it’s the person you expect.
We took our request to Mrs. Hutchinson, who thought it would be a wonderful idea. But she said that Lancelot Macintosh was an extremely busy man, so we’d probably have to wait at least a couple of weeks!
Even though we weren’t going to be able to cross him off our list until it was too late to save the mosque, we couldn’t stop talking about him, and all the things that were unusual and might make him a suspicious character:
“He smells like bubble gum when he’s never even chewing any. What is that about?”
“He holds a walking stick he doesn’t use!”
“He really is too cheery.”
“He uses words that nobody else does. Ever.”
“His pants are too short for him.”
* * *
• • •
I was super disappointed when Saturday morning rolled around. That meant zero days left to the deadline. Mom and Dad had said that before the prayer, the imam was going to talk about how much money we had al
l raised.
But the police hadn’t found the missing money.
We hadn’t talked to our prime suspect.
And I didn’t think Maryam had sold any art.
There was no doubt about it:
I was certain this would be the last time we went there. They were going to have to do a big goodbye because I hadn’t been able to save it. The air wasn’t going into my lungs. I felt like I had suddenly been dropped onto another planet where breathing wasn’t even a thing. I grabbed my neck in a panic.
I imagined H2O blowing his cool steam toward my face. That made me breathe better. But I had to imagine him flying alongside the Peanut all the way to the mosque.
We took our shoes off and went in. There was I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be in the mosque, but there’s always some aunty gossiping with another aunty, or some panicky dad calling out his child’s name because he can’t see her hiding behind one of the pillars.
We sat on the soft carpet and watched gloomily as the imam walked in.
But his shoulders weren’t slumping and his lips weren’t turned down. They were curled up into a surprising smile. And his chest was out, as if he was proud.