“They hired two separate sitters for their children,” I told her. “We thought that was a little strange.” I glanced over at Livingston House, or, rather, at the row of trees that hid it from sight.
“I can’t believe it,” said Ms. Iorio. “Justine and Sally are behaving ridiculously. Their mother would have been shocked, and very disappointed.”
“And their father?” Richard asked.
“Arthur?” said Ms. Iorio. “Oh, I don’t know. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed. And if he had, he might even have gotten a kick out of it. Their arguing, I mean. He was a strange, unhappy man, and not an easy one to be around. That’s why Justine and Sally left town as soon as they could.”
“What about the third daughter?” asked Richard. He was becoming drawn into the story, I could tell.
“Amy? She’s the youngest. There was a younger brother, but he died, very tragic. Anyway, Amy is a lot younger than the other two,” said Ms. Iorio. “That’s why she ended up staying at home. Her older sisters seem to think she was trying to butter up their father so he’d favor her in his will, but I’m not so sure. I think she just became kind of stuck at home. And maybe she resents Justine and Sally for that.”
This was all so interesting. I know it’s not right to gossip, but I was so curious about the Livingston clan that I couldn’t keep from listening. By this time, Richard had crossed his arms and was still leaning against his car; he was settled in for a while.
Ms. Iorio didn’t seem to need much encouragement to talk. Obviously she enjoyed sharing what she knew about the feuding Livingston sisters.
“Did they all come to the funeral?” asked Richard. “That must have been some scene.”
“Actually, there was no funeral,” said Ms. Iorio. “Both Amy and I happened to be out of the country last year when Arthur died, so there was nobody here to arrange it. The sisters hadn’t seen each other until just a couple of days ago, but all the old resentments seem to be alive and kicking. And the will hasn’t helped.”
“What do you mean?” asked Richard.
“This is one of the strangest wills I’ve ever seen,” said Ms. Iorio. “It even beats old Mrs. Stevens’s will — you know, the lady who left everything to her cats?”
Richard smiled. “What does it say?”
“Basically,” Ms. Iorio began, “it’s set up to make life hard for Arthur’s daughters. That’s the way he operated when he was alive, so I guess he wanted to keep it up even after his death. What the will says is that the daughter who is the ‘smartest’ ” — she made little quote signs with her fingers — “will inherit his fortune.”
“But how can you prove who’s the smartest?” I interrupted. Up until then I’d been listening quietly. But I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Aha!” said Ms. Iorio. “Arthur had that all figured out. The will stipulates that the proof will lie in the solving of a puzzle. The first daughter to solve the puzzle he created will find a certain object in the house — a treasure — and when she does, she’ll inherit everything. The house, the grounds, the money, everything.” Ms. Iorio looked flushed, and I couldn’t tell whether it was still from her jog, or from her excitement about what she was telling us.
“How does the puzzle work?” asked Richard, leaning forward. He seemed to have forgotten all about making it home in time for supper.
“When we gathered for the reading of the will, I handed each daughter a sealed envelope,” Ms. Iorio explained, sounding mysterious. “Inside each envelope was a different clue. There was also an envelope for me, which is to remain sealed until one of the daughters thinks she has solved the puzzle. Inside my envelope is a code, which supposedly will allow me to confirm whether or not the daughter has found the right object.”
“Complicated!” Richard remarked.
Ms. Iorio nodded. “And sort of silly, really,” she continued. “But there’s not a thing I can do about it. The executor’s job is to carry out the wishes of the deceased, nothing more and nothing less.”
“It does seem silly,” I mused. “I mean, if the sisters could work together —”
“Exactly!” Ms. Iorio cried, interrupting. “That’s exactly what I think. If they teamed up, they could use all three clues, work together to find the object, and share the inheritance. Right now, though, they’re too selfish to want to share.” She smiled at me. “I’ll tell you, you baby-sitters ought to try to help them out. I mean, if Justine and Sally would only pull together and hire one sitter — like you! — for all their kids, maybe that would help.”
“Well,” I began. I was about to explain that there were too many kids for one sitter, but I had the feeling that Ms. Iorio was joking, anyway.
“I’ll suggest it to the ladies. Anyway, at the very least you should keep your eye out for any clues leading to Arthur’s treasure,” Ms. Iorio went on. “You could be kind of an undercover baby-sitter!” She grinned and winked at me. Then she checked her watch. “Oh, my goodness!” she said. “My family will be wondering if I’ve been abducted by aliens!” She jogged off, waving good-bye as she rounded the corner.
Richard looked after her and shook his head. “Very interesting,” he said. “You probably shouldn’t have overheard that conversation,” he told me, smiling. “It was just between lawyers.” He paused. “Lyn is an excellent — and very ambitious — attorney. I bet she’ll go far.”
I, for one, was glad I’d overheard what Ms. Iorio had said. But I did wonder why she seemed to care so much about having the case wrapped up. I mean, why did she want the sisters to work together, even though the will specified that they shouldn’t? It seemed as if she wanted the case settled speedily. Was she due to receive a piece of the estate when it was settled? Something made me just a little suspicious about Ms. Iorio.
By the time we made it home, we were a little late for dinner. I had to rush through my meal, too, because I had made plans to go to the movies with Emily Bernstein.
Unfortunately, it turned out that those weren’t the only plans I’d made. I’d also promised to hang out and watch a movie on the VCR with Mary Anne. She had rented one of her favorites, an Audrey Hepburn movie called Roman Holiday. She loves to watch it and cry, especially if I’m there to cry along with her.
I decided to keep my date with Emily, since I can see Mary Anne any time. I asked Mary Anne to come with us, but she said she’d already seen the movie we were going to. I felt bad, but what could I do? So I headed out right after dinner, my head full of what I’d learned about the Livingston sisters. To tell the truth, their story seemed much more interesting than any movie, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it all night. It seemed as if the BSC had a mystery on its hands, and I hoped with all my heart that I could help solve it before I had to leave for California.
That was Claudia (as if it weren’t obvious from the creative spelling), writing in the mystery notebook, which is one thing I forgot to mention when I was listing all of Kristy’s great ideas. See, the BSC has been involved in solving more than one mystery. In fact, we’ve become pretty good detectives, if I do say so myself. I’ve even cracked a few cases in California! Anyway, we used to keep track of our clues and suspects by writing notes on napkins, our hands, our sneakers — whatever was handy. Kristy couldn’t stand to see us so disorganized, so she came up with the idea for a mystery notebook, a central place in which to record every bit of information we pick up when we’re on the trail of a mystery. Now we use it all the time, and it does make life easier.
What was Claudia so excited about? Well, I’ll explain.
It turned out that Ms. Iorio had quite an influence on Mrs. Keats and Mrs. Cornell, because at Monday’s meeting when Mrs. Cornell called, she asked for two sitters for the next day — to sit for all five kids together! She also requested that I be one of the sitters, since Katharine had asked for me. In fact, she asked that I be their regular sitter, which was fine with me and with the other club members.
Claudia and I took the job, and we showed up at
Livingston House promptly at two o’clock the next day. We had our Kid-Kits with us, and we were feeling very optimistic about sitting for all of the kids together and maybe patching up the family feud.
Claud was a little taken aback by how huge the place was, but I wasn’t intimidated anymore. I grabbed the lion’s head knocker and banged it against the door.
“Hello, girls,” said John, swinging the door open wide. “Come on in.” He ushered us inside with a fake bow as if he were acting the part of a butler.
I saw Claudia blush, and I knew she was thinking about how cute John was.
“Are Mrs. Keats and Mrs. Cornell here?” I asked, once we were standing in the fancy foyer.
“They just left,” he replied. “They each had appointments they wanted to be early for. The kids are all upstairs — in their own wings, of course.” He gave me a little smile. “You know the way, don’t you?” he added.
I nodded. “Sure,” I said. “Thanks.”
John disappeared, and Claudia and I exchanged glances.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes nothing,” I said. “I’ll show you the way to the Keatses’ wing, then I’ll go see the Cornell kids, since I already know them a little. Once we’ve prepared the kids, we’ll bring them all down here to meet. Then maybe we can head outside and play in the yard.”
“Sounds good,” said Claudia. “I’m sure they’ll be friends before they know it. After all, they’re cousins, right?” She sounded confident, but I could tell she was a little nervous.
She became even more nervous, she told me later, once she found herself in the Keatses’ playroom upstairs. Why? Well, because the Keats kids were pretty tense themselves.
“Hi, I’m Claudia,” she said, after she’d tapped lightly on the playroom door and pushed it open. Eliza, Hallie, and Jeremy all looked up at her with tentative smiles. They were spread out on the playroom floor, reading comic books. Or at least, Claudia said, Eliza and Hallie were reading them. Jeremy was looking at the pictures.
Claudia sat right down on the floor with the kids and picked up a comic. “You know,” she began, “I guess I’m supposed to like Betty better than Veronica, because Betty’s so nice and Veronica’s all stuck up. But I have to admit I think Veronica has a really cool sense of style.”
Eliza and Hallie giggled. “I think so, too,” said Eliza shyly.
“I like Betty,” Hallie said stubbornly. But she grinned at Claudia.
Jeremy smiled, too.
“It’s funny,” continued Claudia, who had been wondering about how to bring up the idea of all the kids playing together, “but even though Betty and Veronica fight a lot, I think they’re still friends. I mean, fighting with somebody doesn’t mean you can never be pals, right?” She looked hopefully at Eliza, Hallie, and Jeremy.
“We had a fight with our cousins once,” said Hallie.
“A big fight!” exclaimed Jeremy, jumping to his feet and giving a whoop.
“He doesn’t even remember it, really,” Hallie confided.
“You don’t, either,” Eliza reminded her younger sister. “You just remember Mom telling you about it.”
“Mom told us all kinds of things about our cousins,” Hallie admitted. “They’re not very nice at all.”
Claudia didn’t like the sound of that. “Not nice?” she asked. “How can you say that if you don’t even remember them?”
“Not nice!” Jeremy shouted, brandishing an imaginary sword, as if he’d like to do his cousins in.
“Wouldn’t you like to meet them again and decide for yourselves?” Claudia asked.
“I — I don’t know,” said Hallie. “Maybe.”
“No!” Jeremy yelled. “I don’t want to, and you can’t make me.”
Claudia was beginning to feel a little desperate. Fortunately, just then Eliza came to her rescue.
“I’d like to meet them,” she said. “I don’t remember any big fight. And Katharine’s my age, you know.”
“I’m older than Tilly,” Hallie declared. “Maybe I could teach her some stuff.” She was sounding a little less hesitant.
Jeremy was still looking stubborn. “Come on, Jer,” said Eliza. “It’ll be fun. Tilly and Katharine will spoil you, I bet.”
“Do they have candy?” asked Jeremy hopefully.
“Maybe! Let’s go!” said Claudia, deciding that she’d better seize the moment. She jumped up and headed for the door, hoping the kids would follow her. When she peeked behind her, she saw them all coming after her. “Yay!” she said, under her breath. But her relief didn’t last long. Her nervousness returned as she led the Keats kids down the stairs to the foyer, where she knew I’d probably be waiting with Katharine and Tilly.
She told me later that each step brought a new worry. After all, she hadn’t even met the Cornell kids herself. What if Hallie and Jeremy were right to want to avoid them? What if the kids started to squabble as soon as they saw one another?
But her fears lessened when she saw Katharine and Tilly and me waiting at the bottom of the wide main staircase. At least that meant that the Cornell girls were interested in meeting their cousins. Claudia started to fantasize about a warm, joyous family reunion. Eliza and Katharine would share a giant hug. Tilly would offer Hallie her favorite doll to play with. Jeremy would beam up at his older cousins.
Then reality struck.
When Claud and the Keats kids reached the bottom of the stairs, Katharine stepped forward hesitantly, but Tilly turned and ran to one of the tall front windows, turning her back on her cousins. “Shy,” I mouthed to Claudia, who nodded.
Claudia turned to Eliza, who had seemed anything but shy. “Isn’t this great?” she asked. “Seeing your cousins again?”
Eliza hung back. All she could manage was a whispered “Hi” to Katharine.
“Hi,” Katharine said back.
Claudia and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Obviously, bringing these two families together wasn’t going to be so easy.
“Hey, I know!” said Claudia. “How about if we all go play outside?”
Tilly turned around and spoke for the first time since Claudia and the Keats kids had arrived. “It’s raining,” she informed us.
We couldn’t believe it. Claudia and I ran to the window, and sure enough, a summer storm had sprung up. “Time for Plan B,” I said. “What is Plan B, anyway?”
“I know,” said Claudia, snapping her fingers. “Tour guide.”
“What?” I asked. The kids looked bewildered.
“Tour guide,” she repeated. “First, Jeremy, Hallie, and Eliza will show us around the wing where they’ve been living. Then Katharine and Tilly will show us around their wing. Trust me, it’ll be fun!” She winked at me.
I winked back, and grinned. A perfect idea. It would give the kids the chance to get to know one another, plus it would give Claud and me the opportunity to do a little snooping around for that “treasure.”
The kids thought it was a great idea, too. (Well, at least they didn’t complain.) We all trooped off for the guided tour, with Eliza as the first leader. We walked through fancy drawing rooms, musty guest rooms, and too many bathrooms to keep track of. The wing had its own kitchen and dining room, as well as a sunroom, a workout room with exercise equipment (“Hey, we don’t have a treadmill!” Katharine complained), and six bedrooms, decorated in different colors.
Many of the rooms contained portraits of Arthur Livingston, all at different ages. Most of them were at least a little less ugly than the one in the parlor downstairs. But I actually started to become kind of creeped out by them. A couple of times I even felt as if the eyes were following my movements. It was almost as if old Arthur Livingston were still watching over his home and family.
After Katharine had led us on a tour of the Cornell wing, it was still raining. Luckily, Claudia came up with another great idea for an activity. “Let’s do self-portraits,” she suggested. “We’ll all draw ourselves, and put in lots of stuff that tells about who we are and wher
e we’re from and all that.”
The kids loved the idea, and settled down to work in the Cornell kids’ playroom. But after a couple of false starts, we realized we needed more paper. “I’ll find some,” Claudia offered, thinking she’d go back to the library we’d visited during our tour. She found the room and was rummaging around for paper in the oversized desk when she heard somebody cough. She jumped — then turned to see Amy Livingston, who looked much younger than her sisters, sitting in a big leather chair by the fireplace.
“Sorry to scare you,” said Amy. “I was just looking at the books.” She waved her hands around at the shelves lining the walls. She seemed a little distracted, Claudia told me later. She went on talking, almost as if Claud weren’t there. “Before my father passed away,” she said, “he wrote me this note, telling me that ‘the first is always the most important.’ I thought maybe he was talking about first editions. But maybe he was talking about Justine, since she’s the oldest. I don’t know.” She looked up and seemed a little surprised to see Claudia staring at her. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” she asked. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” said Claudia, who of course did know what Amy was talking about. Amy had just passed along her clue, the one her father left her in a sealed envelope. Why had she told Claudia? Maybe because she was a little lonely, and just wanted somebody to talk to. Or maybe she hoped that Claudia might say something that would help her solve the clue.
Before Claudia could say anything, she heard a male voice behind her.
“Amy?”
Claud turned to see John, the butler. And when he saw her, he immediately changed his tone. “Uh, can I bring you anything, Miss Livingston? Miss Kishi?”
Amy shook her head, looking flustered. Claudia thought Amy was worried that the butler had heard her clue. So Claud spoke up, telling John she’d been looking for paper. He went off to find some, leaving Amy and Claudia alone again.
Dawn Schafer, Undercover Baby-Sitter Page 3