Madhattan Mystery (17 page)

Lexi was lost in her reflection again. “I guess this is what destitute looks like.”

“At least your vocabulary is improving. Did you hear a word I said just now?”

“I heard.”

Kim Ling was studying Lexi, her mouth in a twist. “How did you end up getting so much grodier than me? You could give Melrose Merritt a run for her money.” She brushed a splotch of soot off Lexi's shoulder. “Ugh, speaking of the devil, I'm glad she never showed up today, aren't you? At least we don't have to deal with that nut job anymore.”

“Mmm.” Lexi was rubbing her right eye, which was suddenly stinging and watery.

“Oh, turdballs, you're not crying, are you?”

“No. I've got a lump of coal or something in my eye.”

In a flash, Kim Ling had the corner of a tissue rolled into a point and ready to come to the rescue. “Look to the left,” she said, prying open Lexi's quivering eyelid. “Look to the right.” Lexi's eyeballs did as they were told. “Stand up, sit down, fight, fight,
fight
!”

A burst of laughter sent the mint shooting from Lexi's mouth right onto Kim Ling's cheek. Lexi tried to flick it off, but Kim Ling was flailing and swatted at her face as if she were being attacked by killer bees. Finally, the mint went flying and they both laughed themselves teary-eyed.

“Hey, it worked,” Lexi said, blinking wide blinks. “That crud in my eye got totally washed away!”

“Along with my last shred of dignity.” Kim Ling wiped the slobber off her cheek with her sleeve. “You know,” she said, still cracking up, “I'm suddenly famished. C'mon, I'll
treat you to a bagel with a schmear while we come up with our next plan of attack.”

Lexi shot her a curious look.

“Cream cheese.”

They took off down the street with Lexi hoping that no one would stare and point at her, unsightly wreck that she was. Nobody did. That was the thing about New York—even if you looked like the biggest oddball ever, there were always at least ten odder balls on any given block. Even so, she was still trying to fluff up her hair as they stopped at a little deli on Vanderbilt Avenue that Kim Ling insisted on going to. The line was long, so Lexi lingered outside, killing time counting lit-up
OFF DUTY
signs on passing taxicabs and thinking about how
this
was a side of Kim Ling she really sort of liked—the funny-helpful-generous side.

A banging and clattering interrupted her thoughts. It just so happened to come from way down the block, where Sophie, the homeless woman, usually sat—and before Lexi could stop herself, she was rushing toward the racket.

“What's going on?” she called out to a policeman with a squawking walkie-talkie. “Excuse me, officer—no! You can't throw that stuff away. It belongs to someone I know.”

Apparently, he had just heaved Sophie's broken stroller into the giant Dumpster. He flung the blanket in next, along with the container of food Lexi had dropped off
earlier. Pigeons took off flying through an explosion of scrambled eggs.

“Please, stop!” Lexi cried, tugging at his arm, her heart racing.

“You wanna be arrested for obstructing justice? Then I suggest you unhand me.”

She quickly let him go. “Destroying an old woman's private property is justice?”

“Take it easy, kid. I'm just clearing Sophie's junk off the public street, that's all.”

“But you can't just—wait, you know Sophie?”

“Everybody knew her.”

Knew?
Just then a black cat zoomed across Lexi's feet with a pitiful
maaow
. She lurched forward to grab it but the cat was slippery fast. It had to be Gabby, one of Sophie's babies.
A black cat crossing your path on Friday the thirteenth. Bad luck times two
.

“I tell ya, the homeless don't stand a chance in this city. They can drop just like that.” The cop snapped his fingers. “The ambulance got here as fast as it could but …”

Lexi twisted to her feet and started speed-walking away, not needing nor
wanting
to hear the rest of the officer's explanation. It was only too obvious.

“And where do you think you're going, girly? Hey, I'm talkin' to you!”

Without thinking, Lexi took off running as fast as she could up the street and around the corner to the front of the train terminal, where she was swallowed up by a swarm
of pedestrians. Overcome by a bout of dizziness, she collapsed onto a fire hydrant behind a newsstand, panting and sweating, looking for any sign of the policeman. Thankfully, there were none. Her insides felt battered. Fluttery. Like a suffocating butterfly was trying to escape. She tried pushing what had just happened out of her head, but somehow her mother's death began playing out instead, and she had to bite her lip to keep from bawling.

Through a splotch of sunlight, Lexi noticed a pair of gray high heels scrape to a halt in front of her. Something floated onto her lap.
A ten-dollar bill?
Lexi immediately snatched it up. “Miss?” she called out, waving the money. “I think you dropped this.”

“Don't do anything foolish with it, okay?” The woman flashed Lexi a weak smile and kept going. “Call your parents. They must be worried sick.”

“What?” And then it sunk in. “No, wait. I'm not a runaway!”

It cut like a sword, that look of pity in the woman's eyes. It was soul damaging. Something Lexi would never forget.
Had the cop thought she was a runaway too? Is this all really happening?

In a burst of panic, she dug her phone out of her backpack to call Kim Ling and tell her where to meet up with her, but just as she was about to dial, it rang.

“Kim? Hello?”
“No. It's me—Melrose. I'm, uh—sorry for standing you guys up but—”

“Melrose? I can barely hear you. What's that clanging?”

“It just started. I'm at a pay phone outside of—”

“What? Outside of where?”

“Ugh! I can't hear a freakin' thing! You know what? Bad timing—forget it!”

“No, wait—are you all right? Hello? Oh, no …”

Lexi tried calling back but there was no answer. Suddenly the city seemed harsh and horrible and closing in on her. She stared up past the silvery art deco topper of the Chrysler building, past the wispy clouds, desperately wondering what to do. Horns were still honking and sirens screaming and yet the most glorious sound was bleeding through. Church bells? Clanging in the distance?
Melrose had mentioned there was a church near Grand Central when they were at the pizza place—St. Agnes, was it?—where she hid out sometimes. Whenever things got really bad
. She scrambled to her feet with a sudden purpose.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” Lexi called out to a ruddy-faced woman selling flowers from plastic buckets on the corner. “Do you happen to know where St. Agnes is?”

“I dunno—a few blocks east, I think,” the woman croaked, barely looking up from her tulips. “Just follow your ears.”

Lexi did just that, texting Kim Ling along the way.

MEET UP @3 IN FRNT OF Y 2 PICK UP KEV …
XPLAIN L8R.

Sure enough, she found Melrose slouched in the back pew of the church, watching a poorly attended funeral. She was eating a stash of broken Oreos, her face streaked with tears. After having had just a taste of what it felt like to be a runaway herself, Lexi knew right there and then that she had to help this poor girl—or at least try. And before the priest had finished his eulogy, she had come up with a brilliant plan.

“Up and at 'em, kids!” Aunt Roz sang, parading through the living room first thing Saturday morning. “You don't want to sleep away our Day of Family Fun!”

At least Friday was over. It had been the second most horrible day of Lexi's life. Between the terrifying experience in the bowels of Grand Central, Sophie's death, and then being mistaken for a runaway, Lexi couldn't decide which was worse. Thank goodness she had heard those church bells—a definite sign from the universe. And even though the plan she had come up with at St. Agnes was risky and broke so many rules you could never keep count, Lexi knew deep inside she was doing the right thing. Now she would have to skillfully maneuver her way through Aunt Roz's DOFF, which wouldn't be easy. Part one, as it turned out, was a breakfast of hot dogs and smoothies at the neighborhood Papaya King. And part two? Lexi's choice: the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

You could spot it from blocks away, the museum—right on Fifth Avenue, flanked by enormous pillars and big, colorful banners rippling in the breeze. It was almost like some classy white palace, if the king and queen allowed dozens of tourists to sit on their endless front steps, gawking, snacking, and taking pictures. Aunt Roz insisted they go straight up to the European paintings section, so they could soak in the masterpieces of the French Impressionists, like Renoir, Monet, and Degas. Kevin was busy texting Space Camp Billy but Lexi really absorbed all the art. She liked the colorful flower paintings mostly and the misty landscapes, but what really drew her attention was a bronze ballerina statue wearing a real cotton skirt and a faded satin hair ribbon called
The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer
, by Edgar Degas.

“Whoa, the model for this was a real live girl who danced with the Paris Opera,” Lexi told Aunt Roz, reading the plaque at the base. She studied the rigid ballerina up close. “Way to go, mademoiselle.”

Lexi had to remind herself not to get too caught up in her surroundings, though, and focus on business. She needed to keep her eye on the clock if she was to carry out her plan on time. Plus, this was the museum where Cleopatra's jewels were headed when they got ripped off, which was why she chose it in the first place. There was potential sniffing around to do.

“I always get so emotional, drinking in these wonderful works of art,” Aunt Roz said dreamily. “The
first time I saw
Woman with Chrysanthemums
, I actually cried.”

“Oh, that's so sweet,” Lexi said.

“So, all they have here,” Kevin asked, “is just, like—art?”

“No. There's ice-fishing on the lower level,” Lexi said sarcastically. “Kevin, it's called the Metropolitan Museum of—”

“I know, I know.”

Lexi unfolded her museum map in Kevin's face and zeroed in on it. “The Temple of Dendur sounds interesting. It's an Egyptian monument from fifteen
BCE
—in the Sackler Wing, downstairs, part of the giant Egyptian Art section. I'm sure they have a ton of mummified stuff even a ten-year-old boy with the attention span of a gnat might like.” Her head popped up over the map and she glanced down at Kevin. “And probably info on
Cleopatra
.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, obviously catching her drift. “Let's go!”

What Lexi was hoping to find there, she wasn't quite sure. Slivers of clues maybe? Mystical vibes? Something.

“Well, the Met was your pick, Alexandra, so lead the way,” Aunt Roz said. “Kevin can be in charge when we get to the planetarium.”

They started through the maze of art-filled rooms with Lexi in front wrestling with the map; Kevin a few steps behind, snapping photos; and Aunt Roz pulling up the rear, unwrapping a hard candy she had dug out of her straw
tote. “It's terrible, isn't it?” she said, and popped the candy into her mouth. “That Cleopatra jewel heist—well, they probably weren't
really
her jewels but that's what they're calling them in the press even though there was no actual proof.”

Lexi came to a standstill. Suddenly she was stiffer than
The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer
.

“You kids must've heard about it, right? There's so much hoopla. It was supposed to be opening here next week, the Queen of the Nile exhibit.”

Kevin and Lexi gave each other blank looks—with a layer of knowing-all-too-well-what-she-was-talking-about underneath.

“They charge extra for those special exhibits,” Aunt Roz went on, “which is absolutely ludicrous. Or am I thinking of the Museum of Natural History? Hard candy?”

“The ones with the fruity centers?” Kevin asked, scrunching up his nose. “Pass.”

“No? Alexandra?”

“No, thanks. Oh, look,” she said, pointing down the hall, “stairs!” They had conveniently come into view so she grabbed Kevin and took off in a power-walk toward the top of the staircase.

“I suppose that doesn't matter a fig at this point anyway,” Aunt Roz said, trotting to catch up with them and sucking on her candy, “since the doggone jewels vanished into thin air. Kiss that exhibit good-bye. Such a shame. I was really looking forward to it.”

In the Egyptian Art section on the main level, Lexi did her best to change the sticky subject of Cleopatra's jewels, but how could she? They were knee-deep in creepy sarcophagi, relics, and pharaoh statues. At least Kevin was being cooperative. Letting him in on her secret plan before leaving the house was definitely the right decision—but the whole “pulling yet another one over on Aunt Roz” thing was tearing up her insides like a paper shredder.

“There was supposed to be a fabulous emerald necklace too,” Aunt Roz said, studying a stone relief of Cleopatra's head from the Ptolemaic period. “Emeralds were her favorite, so they say.”

Would she
ever
let up about the jewel heist and the special exhibit? By the time they had reached the wing where the Temple of Dendur stood, Lexi was about to spontaneously combust from nervousness. “I need to sit,” she said, perching at the end of a large black pool peppered with coins.

Aunt Roz politely nodded at two security guards strolling by. “Maybe we should all take a little break.”

“No, you guys go ahead. Seriously. I'll be here by this reflecting pool … reflecting.”

The room was sunny and open with a big wall of tilted windows overlooking Central Park. Lexi watched as Kevin and Aunt Roz disappeared between the pillars of one of the ancient sandstone temples on display, and hugged the map to her chest.
Hmm, maybe if I really concentrate, I can pick up something from the spirit of Cleopatra
herself. Or is that too crazy? I mean, if anyone's going to know where her missing jewels are …
She mentally hit “select-all-delete” to erase her thoughts and make room for incoming messages. Nothing at first. Then, slowly but surely, a caravan of camels began floating through her mind—and sand. Lots of sand.
Think jewels—not deserts
. She tried for a few more minutes, but all she ended up with was a dry mouth, a throbbing headache, and a case of the heebie-jeebies.