London Art Chase (14 page)

“Mia!” she whispered.

Mia blinked over at her, obviously halfway to sleep herself. “Huh?”

“Mia, you know that woman we saw leaving Mr. Hughes' office? I think she's the thief.”

“Wha . . .?”

“She's meeting someone at Trafalgar Square at three o'clock, and she's going to sell the Renoir painting. You know how I said I needed to see it? That was because I had to prove that the painting was stolen after you all looked at it. But no one would let me. So now, my only option is going to Trafalgar Square to see for myself.”

Mia's eyes went huge. “You want to sneak out—just us—and go to Trafalgar Square, because you have another wild idea? No way. Absolutely no way, Maddie.”

“Come on, Mia, please? I need your help.”

“Go to sleep, Maddie,” Mia said. “When you wake up, hopefully you'll be back to your normal self. Miss Julia is right, you're too tired to think straight.”

“I am not too tired, Mia.”

But Mia was clearly finished with the conversation. She turned onto her side, away from Maddie, and closed her eyes.

Maddie watched Mia lay there until she drifted off to sleep. Lulu was still fast asleep and now, so was Mia. Probably Miss Julia was too. Maddie checked the clock again. 2:27. If she was going to go, now was the time.

Slowly, and as carefully as she could, so as not to knock into Mia and wake her, Maddie climbed out of bed. She pulled on her tennis shoes and snuck out into the main room. She'd thrown her coat over a chair, so she put that on. Then, she scanned the room, wondering what else she should take. A room key, probably, but she didn't have one of those. She'd have to worry about getting back into the room later. Maybe one of the hotel staff people would help her. She'd probably have to fess up about sneaking out, but after she'd caught the thief—for real this time—no one would be mad, would they?

Well, actually, yes. Everyone would be mad. Mom, Dad, Miss Julia, even Mia. And especially Lulu, since
she'd missed all the fun. 2:31. Now. Maddie had to go now. At the last minute, she remembered her cell phone, the one she was supposed to use only for emergencies. The phone was in her bag with her sketchbook, which she'd left on the coffee table. She tiptoed across the tiled entryway, carefully opened the door, and closed it behind her. Standing still in the hallway, she counted to twenty, sure that Miss Julia would burst out of the door any second and demand to know what Maddie thought she was doing. Nineteen, twenty . . . Nothing.

Maddie looked back at the door, and then squared her shoulders. She could do this. She had to, because it was the only way to save “Sun-Splattered Afternoon.”

TWENTY-SIX

N
o one stopped Maddie on her way out of the hotel. But then, no one knew she was doing anything wrong. The doorman even opened the door for her and tipped his hat.

The first thing Maddie noticed once she was outside was all the noise. Car engines, horns honking, people talking, the sound of the wind blustering through the trees. When she was with her sisters, everyone was so busy talking that she never noticed any of these things. She shoved her hands into her pockets and kept her eyes down. She could make it to Trafalgar Square in time—she knew she could.

“Excuse me,” a woman said, sounding mildly offended.

Maddie looked up, heart racing, sure she'd been caught. The woman staring her down wore her gray hair swept up into a bun, and a miniature poodle pranced this way and that at her feet.

“Watch where you're going!” the woman scolded.

“Oh, sorry,” Maddie said. “Excuse me.”

“Kids these days,” the woman said, huffing as she went on her way.

Maddie watched her go, then counted to twenty again, willing her heart to slow down.
Breathe, Maddie.
You're fine. No one knows you're not supposed to be out here.

She looked up, gauging the distance to Trafalgar Square. It was not far away at all. Certainly, she could be there in ten minutes, five even, and she could be near the fountain, ready to see everything that happened between Aria and whomever it was she planned to meet.

Maddie took a deep breath and continued. The block seemed longer than any city block she'd ever walked. Surely, everyone was staring at her. When a bobby rode past on his horse, she ducked into the shadow of some steps, as though the shadows would hide her from sight. The bobby rode on, not paying her any mind. Watching him go, Maddie blinked, her understanding of the world tilting slightly on end. She'd never realized how easy it would be to sneak out and be out on her own. She'd always thought everyone would know she wasn't allowed. But different families had different rules, of course. Lots of kids could be out on their own for various reasons.

Maddie thought about how it would feel to have parents who let you run around on your own when you were only ten years old. She and Mia always complained that there were way too many rules in her family, but on second thought, maybe they had the just-right amount. Not that Maddie regretted coming out here—she had to do this thing—but she wouldn't
want it to be no big deal that she was out on her own. Because, in truth, it felt like a very big deal.

She passed through the gates with the giant lions and wove her way through the crowds of people toward the fountain. Now what? She didn't want to stand out in the open, right next to the fountain, especially since Aria had seen her earlier. There wasn't a bench where she could sit and be inconspicuous, either. Maddie turned in a full circle, taking in the wide open square. She could maybe sit on the steps, but they were so far away, she'd hardly be able to see anything at all.

What now, God?
she prayed, hoping some very clear answer would pop into her mind. Nothing. She wasn't all that surprised. Honestly, she wasn't sure being out here on her own was what God wanted her to be doing right now. If she was really, truly honest with herself, she had to admit that Mia was right. God didn't expect kids to chase down thieves. This definitely hadn't been what Mom meant when she said God might give her something to do. Maybe she'd handled this all wrong, but no one had listened to her. And she felt out of options, cornered, even. All she wanted was to find “Sun-Splattered Afternoon” and prove . . . yes, prove that she hadn't been entirely wrong.

Why did she need to prove herself? Mia would definitely demand Maddie's answer on this question. Maddie had no answer. She didn't seem to be able to stop herself. She was like a boulder that had started
rolling and kept picking up speed, unstoppable until it made it to the bottom of the hill. Or crashed into something.

Maddie looked around at the other people, trying to figure out a look-casual strategy. People were either walking, or standing still, staring into their phones. That was it! All she had to do was take out her phone and pretend to be reading it, or taking pictures or something, and then no one would think it was weird that a ten-year-old was standing on her own in the middle of the square.

After fishing her phone out of her purse, Maddie turned the power on and flipped through screens. She had a few games, but not much else on her phone. Really, it was meant to be for emergencies. Still, no one else had to know she wasn't reading important messages on the glowing screen. She positioned herself about thirty yards away from the fountain, where she could see most of the way around. If the woman ended up on the exact opposite side, Maddie figured she could move around slowly, making sure not to miss anything.

Her phone read 2:55. Just in time.

TWENTY-SEVEN

A
s the clock ticked off minute after slow minute, Maddie flinched at every tiny sound. Three o'clock came and went, and Maddie still didn't see Aria. Slowly, Maddie began to circle the fountain, starting to doubt herself. What if she'd heard Aria's conversation wrong? What if there was no meeting at all?

Then, just as she was about to turn around and head home, Maddie saw Aria approaching the fountain, still carrying her large bag. Aria scanned the crowd warily. Maddie ducked behind a tall man so she wasn't in direct sight. Wow! She was not so bad at this detective stuff. Mia would be proud. Maddie grinned, and then remembered to focus. Aria's meeting. The painting.

Maddie sidestepped, as casually as she could, until she had a clear view of Aria. She checked her watch and then scanned the crowd again. This time, Aria seemed to see whomever she was looking for. Then, Maddie saw him too, a man in a perfectly pressed suit, with two giant men following him, men that made Mom's security guards look like the Scarecrow from
The Wizard of Oz
. The three men strode across the square to meet Aria.

Once they arrived, Aria and the perfect-suit man began to talk. Maddie couldn't hear what they were
saying, far away as she was, but she imagined what might be happening.

Do you have my painting?
the man might be asking.

Yes, it's right here
. Aria indicated her bag.
Did you bring payment?

Painting first.

Payment first.

Are you going to keep wasting my time?

Maddie realized she was narrating this conversation as though it were a television show, as though whatever happened didn't really matter. But this wasn't a television show, and what happened mattered quite a lot. “Sun-Splattered Afternoon” was at stake. Maddie had meant to stop the meeting, but now that she was here, she realized stopping the meeting wasn't as simple as she'd thought. How was she supposed to interrupt a man and his two security guards—or whatever they were—who were breaking the law and buying a painting that wasn't officially for sale? Not by running up and saying, “Excuse me, can you please stop that right now?”

Maddie flexed and clenched her fingers, thinking, digging through her mind for any workable solution. Meanwhile, the man had nodded to one of his guards, and the guard had opened up a briefcase to show the woman whatever was inside. After Aria checked the contents and nodded, the guard closed the briefcase again. Then, Aria took a painting-shaped parcel
wrapped in brown paper out of her bag. The man ripped open a small corner to look at the painting. He nodded too.

No, no, no!
Maddie couldn't just stand here watching, but her body felt as immovable as if she were one of the bronze lions guarding the Square. What had she been thinking? It had been one thing to think she was coming over to confront Aria, but now, she realized she was witnessing a real crime. One she had no idea how to handle. Out of the depths of her mind, the bobby's words sprung to mind.
I'd call for backup.
Backup! She whirled around, looking for a bobby. It had seemed as though there had been bobbies here and there and everywhere this whole trip, and now, Trafalgar Square was completely bobby-free.
No, no, no, no, no!

The guard handed over the suitcase and Aria turned to go. As the man and his guards began walking away, Maddie bit her lip. Should she follow Aria or the man? If she followed the man, she'd stay with the painting, but it wasn't like she could stop him and his guards. She'd need the police for that. But Maddie thought maybe she'd be brave enough to face Aria down. Or maybe as she followed Aria, she'd run into a bobby along the way. At least she could ask Aria who the man was, and why she'd stolen the painting. Hopefully, from there, the authorities could find the man and recover the painting.

Now that she had a plan, Maddie was able to move again. She shoved her phone into her purse and began
to weave her way through the crowd, keeping Aria in sight. Aria seemed to sense that something was wrong, because she started to jog. Maddie glanced over her shoulder to see if the man had changed his course, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Oof!” Maddie said.

“Watch where you're . . . Maddie?” a man's voice said, one that sounded particularly familiar.

Of all people, Maddie had run directly into Mr. Hughes.

“Oh, Mr. Hughes. Mr. Hughes!”

“Maddie, what in the world are you doing out here on your own? Where's Miss Twist? And your sisters?”

“I just saw . . . the painting . . . you have to . . .” Maddie grabbed Mr. Hughes' arm and pulled him in the direction Aria had just gone.

“Maddie, slow down,” Mr. Hughes said. “Tell me what's happening.”

Maddie took a deep breath, and tried to calm down enough to explain, keeping her eyes on Aria's retreating back. “She stole the Renoir! And she's getting away!”

“How did you know the Renoir was missing?” Mr. Hughes asked, his eyes going round.

“I just knew. And I promise to explain, Mr. Hughes, but we have to go, right now, or we'll lose her.”

“Well, yes, yes of course,” Mr. Hughes said. “Lead the way.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

M
addie took off running after Aria with Mr. Hughes pounding down the pavement behind her. Something had clearly spooked Aria, because now she was running full-out.

“You're . . . quite . . . the runner,” Mr. Hughes gasped.

“She's turning the corner!” Maddie called.

Sure enough, they'd lost sight of Aria. Maddie's heart sank, but she kept running, hoping that when they made it to the end of the block, Aria would be somewhere they could see her. There. Her head bobbed as she ran, far ahead of them, past a few groups of walking people.

Down street after street, around corner after corner, Maddie and Mr. Hughes slowly closed the distance. Maddie's legs ached and her lungs burned, and she started to wonder if she'd have to give up, when they finally rounded one last corner to catch sight of Aria climbing a set of steps up to a door.

“But that's Aria,” Mr. Hughes said, as he caught sight of the woman for the first time. “She delivers all of our mail from the National Gallery. And she . . . Oh!”