Ann Martin: Claudia And The Mystery At The Museum

"I really only have one," she said. "I heard that the museum has a big fountain in the courtyard. And you know how people throw pennies into fountains, to make wishes? Maybe the thief threw the coins in there, hoping nobody would notice them."

"Great," said Mary Anne, making a note of Jessi's idea.

"I guess we've already decided that we're going to try to solve this mystery," said Kristy, raising her eyebrows.

"Definitely," I said. "I mean, sure the police are working on it. But I was there when it happened. There's no way I can forget about it now. Plus, that museum is really important to me. It just opened, and I'd hate to see it dose because of this."

"Okay," said Kristy. "So what do we do next?"

"Well," I said, "I guess we go back to the museum and check out some of these ideas. Maybe we'll come up with some others, too. Plus, we have to watch out for suspicious characters."

"Like the man with one green eye and one blue eye?" asked Shannon.

"Sure," I said "Anybody who was there is a suspect." I thought for a second. "Except me, of course. And except for Corrie and Carolyn and Marilyn."

"Even the Brownies?" asked Stacey, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Even the Brownies," I answered solemnly. "Who knows? They could have stashed the coins under one of their beanies or something." I giggled.

Everybody else cracked up, too. "Gotta watch out for those Brownies," said Kristy.

Mal had picked up the newspaper again. "It says here that all kinds of events are coining up at the museum," she said. "They're really trying to make the first month exciting, to give the museum a push. It will take a lot of community support to keep the museum going."

I nodded. "My parents have been saying the same thing," I said. "So what’s going on there?"

"Well, there's a big formal party planned for the last night of the Don Newman exhibit. Plus a cocktail party to celebrate the museum's one month anniversary. And they're going to have a special exhibit about historical Stoneybrook."

"Those would be perfect opportunities for us to do a lot of detective work," said Kristy.

"Wouldn't it be cool if we could somehow go to the Don Newman party?" I said dreamily. "I'd give anything to meet him."

"Yeah, but there's no way any of us could get invited to that," said Mal. "If s going to be really fancy. Black tie, it says here. That

means if s formal. I bet the only people who get invited are the rich ones who gave the museum a lot of money."

We all looked at Kristy then. Her stepfather is the only really rich person we know. She shook her head. "I don't think Watson gave money to the museum," she said.

"Oh, well," I said. "Even if we can't go to the parties, we can check out the historical thing, and we can still walk into the museum anytime we want. Who wants to go there with me tomorrow?" I looked around the room. It was obvious that everyone wanted to. "Great," I said. "Why don't we meet here at about — " Just then, the phone rang again. Kristy picked it up.

"Sure, Mrs. Pike," she said, raising her eyebrows at Mal. "No problem. We'll have someone there." She hung up. "Your mom says she and your dad are taking your brothers and sisters to the mall tomorrow to shop for school clothes. She wants you to go along, and since you haven't been feeling well, she was hoping another sitter could go, too."

Mal rolled her eyes and flopped down on the floor. "Good-bye, museum," she said, good-humoredly. "When you have a big family, clothes-shopping is like an Olympic event. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. But there's no way I can get out of this."

"I'll go with you," volunteered Mary Anne. As usual, she was being sweet and sensitive. "I saw a sweater I wanted last time I was there."

The rest of us made plans to meet at the museum the next morning.

"Okay," said Kristy, a few minutes later, "meeting adjourned. Oh, and by the way, Claudia," she added. "Good job cleaning your room." She nodded toward my closet door, which had fallen open. A huge pile of clothes was cascading out of it. I blushed as everybody cracked up. Then I started laughing, too. At least they had noticed I tried.

Chapter 5.

Mary Anne arrived at the Pike house that morning just as Mr. and Mrs. Pike were starting to load the kids into the two cars they would be taking to the mall. (Whenever the Pikes take a family trip, they have to take two cars. Someday maybe they'll be able to buy one of those mini-vans, but until then, they use this system.) Getting the kids set to go somewhere can take awhile. Mrs. Pike once said that if s like trying to herd sheep into a pen, and that maybe a good sheepdog would come in handy.

"Byron," she called. "Adam, Jordan! Put down those swords and get into the car!" The triplets, who are ten years old, have beert pliiy-ing "knight" lately. Basically, that means they spend a lot of time bashing each other with these silly-looking foam rubber swords.

"Take that, you varlet!" said Adam, landing one last blow on Jordan's shoulder. He dashed into the car before Jordan could hit him back, and his brothers chased after him. Mrs. Pike closed the back door of the station wagon as soon as the three of them had jumped in.

"Three down, four to go," she said. "Claire! Margo! Time to get in the car."

Claire, who's five, was performing a tap dance on the concrete floor of the garage. She had bribed seven-year-old Margo to be her

audience by promising to give her her share of dessert that night. "On the goooooood ship, Lollipop," she sang, as she tapped away. Margo pretended to watch politely, but Mary Anne could see that she had a book hidden in her lap. She turned a page every time Claire turned her back. When Margo heard her mother calling, she looked relieved. "Coming," she said, dragging a still-singing Claire along with her.

"Where's Nicky?" asked Mrs. Pike, when Mr. Pike came outside to see how the loading process was going.

"He's upstairs, changing his socks," said Adam, before Mr. Pike had a chance to answer. "He's been wearing the same ones for, like, three weeks, and Mal told him he had to put on fresh ones if he was going to try on new shoes today." Nicky is eight, and he doesn't believe in "wasting" clean clothes by changing too often.

Mrs. Pike nodded approvingly. "And Vanessa?"

"She's up in her room, putting the finishing touches on a poem," answered Mr. Pike. "She says she'll be right down." Vanessa, who's nine, wants to be a poet when she grows up. She likes to compose poems for special occasions, and she likes to share them, so whoever rode in the car with her would probably be

treated to a recitation of "An Ode to the Mall," or something like that.

By the time Nicky and Vanessa ran downstairs, Claire had decided she needed to use the bathroom one last time. When Claire climbed into the car, Margo realized she had forgotten to bring her "barf bag," which she usually needs on long car rides, so she ran back into the house. Then Adam remembered some hidden money he'd saved from his last allowance, and he dashed to his room to find it.

Finally, all seven kids, plus Mal and Mary Anne, plus Mr. and Mrs. Pike, were packed into the two cars. They pulled out of the driveway and started down the street, with Claire singing, "We're off to see the ma-all, the wonderful Washington Mall," to the tune of "We're Off To See the Wizard."

The trip to the mall was uneventful. Mary Anne told me later that she had been riding next to Margo, and had worried about Margo "hurling," as the triplets put it, but although Margo had looked a little pale for a few minutes, the barf bag turned out to be unnecessary. "Lucky me," said Mary Anne, with relief.

As soon as the cars were parked, the trip went into high gear. Everyone piled out and ran into the mall, ignoring Mr. and Mrs. Pike's