The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar (10 page)

With the security alert, all the CBs and CITs had to be double-checked when they entered the White House grounds. Because of that, there was no time before class to arrange help with the videos. It was only when Mr. Mormora practiced with the other dogs that I got my chance.

Ms. Major and her cockapoo, Pickles, were next to me as usual. Pickles was trying to untie Ms. Major's shoelaces with his teeth. “Ms. Major,” I said, “did I get it right that you keep track of news stories about us and Hooligan?”

Ms. Major tried to bump Pickles away without actually kicking him. It looked like she was tap dancing. “Indeed I do,” she said.

“Then can I ask a favor? Is there a chance my sister, my cousin and I could look at some TV stories from Thursday afternoon?”

“Sure—there are plenty, and I'd be happy to help.” Ms. Major stopped dancing to check the calendar on her phone. Pickles went back to chewing her laces. “How about one o'clock—right after lunch?”

“We'll be there,” I said. “Thanks.”

Ms. Major's office is in the West Wing. My mom's office, the Oval Office, is there, too. Mom's is really nice, but a lot of the West Wing is so crowded it's crazy. Almost everyone works in a cubicle, which is a room with no door and thin pretend walls.

Malik was on duty again, so Tessa, Nate and I had come downstairs with him. Trying to find Ms. Major was like being trapped in a maze. Finally, Malik called out: “Hello-o-o? Ms. Ann Major, are you there?”

When an answering voice called, “Hello-o-o-o!,” we followed it and found her.

“Welcome to my world,” Ms. Major said. It was a tiny space with bare walls except for a calendar turned to last January. The picture on it was a German shepherd. There was no place for four people to sit down, so we crowded around her desk. On it were an old, boxy computer, binders, papers and photos of Pickles.

“As you know, several stations covered the events on Thursday,” she said. “So I pulled up four examples—Fox, CNN, CBS and the local news with Jan and Larry. We could probably find more if you need them.”

It took us about half an hour to watch the four clips. A lot was the same, of course, but there were differences. Like three of the announcers treated the story mostly like a joke, and one treated it like the whole country had spun out of control. Also there were different views, depending on where the camera guys were standing.

The longest report was Jan and Larry's.

It started with a close-up of Hooligan before he
broke his leash, and Jan's voice saying, “With his diamond dog collar, the presidential pooch sported a glamorous new look this afternoon. But soon thereafter, chaos erupted on the South Lawn!”

“Ms. Major,” Nate interrupted. “Could you go back over that part, please?”

“Sure.” She restarted it.

“Look at that,” Nate said. “When Hooligan turns, you can see all the diamonds—twelve of 'em.”

What happened next on the video wasn't a picture, it was noise—the yakking birds. After that, Hooligan took off running with Tessa after him, her hair blowing everywhere, her eyes tearing in the wind.

“Well,
that's
not very flattering,” she said.

The clip went on to show the parade of pursuers—with a close-up of the vice president—and even a view of flowers being crushed by stomping feet. Jan and Larry took turns narrating. At one point Jan said, “Look at that, Larry. For a time, when he was near the tennis courts, Hooligan eluded his pursuers altogether!”

“Bingo,” said Nate.

“Is that what you were after?” Ms. Major asked.

“Partly,” said Nate, “but keep going.”

Now the view pulled back to a bunch of confused-looking people searching for Hooligan by the bushes near the garden plot. Among them were Tessa and the vice president, but you couldn't see Mr. Bryant. Maybe he was there, but he wasn't in the shot.

The final few seconds showed Dad's helicopter
landing and then Ms. Kootoor—cameraman catnip—with Hooligan licking her face.

“I guess all's well that ends well,” said the voice of Larry.

“Bow wow to that,” said Jan. “In other news . . .”

Ms. Major stopped the video on the last frame. Nate pointed to the screen. “See that?” It was another view of Hooligan's collar, and guess what? A diamond was missing.

Ms. Major looked at her watch. Like everyone who works for my mom, she must've been super busy. “Did you get what you need?”

“I think so,” I said. “It was really nice of you to help us. Thanks.”

“No problem,” she said. “Would you like me to e-mail you the links? Then you can watch the stories on your own if you want to.”

“E-mail them to me,” Nate said. “I'm the only one with a computer in my room.”

Tessa said, “Must be
nice
,” and stuck out her tongue when he wasn't looking.

Nobody talked as we left the West Wing. Malik was concentrating on finding a route out of the maze. Nate, Tessa and I were putting together what the video had told us. We now knew for sure that Hooligan himself had disappeared for a few minutes. And so had Mr. Bryant. Did the diamond just fall off the collar? Or did somebody take it?

Tessa said we should flat out ask Mr. Bryant.

Nate said that was crazy. “If he took it, he'll lie and say he didn't. If he didn't, he'll be mad we accused him.”

“He might confess,” Tessa said.

“Lame,” Nate said.

“Maybe we need a break,” I said.

Nate said fine. He was going to find Jeremy and shoot some hoops.

Tessa said, “I know—how 'bout if we dress Hooligan up in outfits and take pictures?”

This was not my first-choice idea. But I knew if I said no, she'd want to play Barbies—and that's worse.

We found Mr. Bryant and Hooligan in the West Sitting Hall.

“Be my guest,” Mr. Bryant told us. “But you must promise to keep him under control. I'll just get myself a cup of coffee and check back.”

Hooligan absolutely refused to step into Tessa's flamingo rain boots. But he didn't seem to mind the pink kimono, or the plastic pearls.

“Pretty puppy!” said Tessa, clicking the camera in his face.

“He's totally embarrassed,” I said.

“He likes it!” Tessa said. “Hey, we can send these pictures to the Empress Pu-Chi! She of all dogs would appreciate them.”

“We can put them in with the thank-you note,” I said.

Tessa shook her head. “I'm pretty sure—and Aunt Jen will back me up—that when the gift's been stolen, you don't have to write a thank-you note.”

“Really? High five!” I guess it's true there's always a bright side.

MOM had to eat dinner with her advisers in the Oval Office. At bedtime, Dad came in to give us our kisses. Nothing against Dad, but I was really missing my mom.

The next morning, I woke up even before Granny came in. So did Tessa. “I've got a really good name for the canary,” she announced.

Oh, fine. My mom's gone AWOL. Bad guys are threatening. Diamonds are missing. And my sister's all happy because she's got a name for the canary! Was this supposed to brighten my day?

When we got to the kitchen, Nate was already there. And so was Ms. Kootoor. I guess one thing about getting up early is you get used to getting up early.

“This is your moment, Tessa,” I said. “What's the ‘really good' name?”

“Ghanamamma!” she cried.

I had been expecting to hate it, but instead I cracked up—Nate, too. Then we heard a thump. Ms. Kootoor had been standing by the breakfast table. When I turned, I
saw she had dropped her Blueberry Bag—
thump
—to the floor. Her face looked whiter than usual, too.

“Are you okay?” Granny asked.

Ms. Kootoor smiled weakly. “Got out of bed too fast, I guess. Uh . . . what was that name, Tessa?”

“Ghanamamma. It's the name of somebody—” Tessa didn't finish her sentence. I guess she suddenly remembered how we weren't going to advertise that we'd phoned a certain nearby nation.

“Somebody?” Ms. Kootoor prompted.

“A singer my dad used to like,” said Tessa.

Before Ms. Kootoor could ask for details, Mr. Bryant came in with Hooligan.

“How's everyone this morning?” he asked, then he turned to the canary. “Have these kids come up with a name for you yet?”

“How do you know we're naming the canary?” Tessa asked.

“It was my idea,” said Mr. Bryant.

Tessa looked at Granny. “Is that true?”

Granny gave Mr. Bryant a look. I don't know what there was about it, but all of a sudden I got a funny feeling.

“Yes, it's true,” Granny said. “And they haven't named him yet. Some of their ideas are real humdingers, though.”

Mr. Bryant stroked his chin. “Hmm. What's the matter with that name for a canary? Humdinger?”

“I like it!” said Tessa.

“Cammie? Nate?” Granny asked.

“I'm down,” I said.

Nate sighed. “If you all prefer Humdinger to Serinus . . .”

“Then it's settled,” said Granny. And what she did next almost knocked me over. She kissed Mr. Bryant on the cheek!

“I think I'm still in shock,” said Nate a few minutes later. Along with Hooligan, we were heading to the South Lawn for Canine Class.

Mr. Bryant had gone down already to get Cottonball. Ms. Kootoor had gone back to her room to lie down.

I shook my head. “So the way it turns out, Mr. Bryant gave her the canary.”

“And that date Mr. Bryant went out on . . . ?” Tessa said.

“And when Granny went to church with ‘a friend'. . . ?” I said.

“Not to mention the tennis date,” Tessa said.

“And all the coffee they've both been drinking!” Nate said.

Talking about it, we walked slower and slower. Now, in the hall outside the Dip Room, we stopped altogether. “I'm not sure how I feel about Granny dating Mr. Bryant,” Tessa said. “But there is one good thing. For sure Mr. Bryant has to be innocent. Granny would never date a diamond thief.”

Canine Class that day was review—sit, stay and heel. I remembered how Mr. Mormora had predicted that
by graduation all the dogs would be “models of canine class.” Mostly he was right. Pickles still got distracted, and the Chihuahua forever wanted his belly scratched. But most of the dogs were getting the hang of good behavior.

And Hooligan was on track to be Top Dog!

When class was almost over, Mr. Mormora made an announcement: “Tomorrow is our graduation ceremony. We have planned some surprises, so please be sure your canines look their best. Also, if any of you wishes to say good-bye to me, may I ask you to stay after class today? Because after class tomorrow, I have a plane to catch. I have been asked by an old friend to go with him on safari!”

YOU might have noticed, if you're paying attention, that for all the detecting Tessa, I and Nate had done, we still had not