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Authors: Natalie Grant

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BOOK: London Art Chase
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As soon as the girls left the office, Maddie sank into one of the chairs and buried her face in her knees.

TWENTY-THREE

M
iss Julia knelt beside her and rubbed her back. “Oh, Maddie.”

“I was so sure I was right,” Maddie said. “So sure.”

For a long time, Miss Julia stayed silent. Maddie pressed her forehead against her knees, trying to make sense of what Mr. Hughes had said. Finally, she sat up and shrugged at Miss Julia.

“I'm okay now,” she said, speaking more to her knees than to Miss Julia. “Really.”

Miss Julia put a hand on Maddie's arm. “You know, when I was about your age, I went into my classroom after lunch and found one of my friends—one of my best friends—in our classroom, looking guilty. I tried to figure out what she was doing in the room, but she wouldn't tell me. Later that day, our teacher, Ms. Hoy, sat us all down for a serious talk. Some money was missing from her purse. She asked if anyone knew what happened. I sat there, knowing I should say something about my friend, but I didn't. I told myself I didn't know what my friend was doing, that she could have been doing anything in the classroom by herself. The next day, my friend came to school with a new pair of earrings, the kind all of us girls were wearing that year. She'd been talking about wanting a pair of her own, but her mom wouldn't buy
them for her. Maybe they were too expensive for her family to buy, I don't know. But the minute I saw those earrings in her ears, I knew that she'd bought them with Ms. Hoy's money. And I still didn't say anything. Maddie, being the kind of person who stands up for what's right is a good thing. You were brave, and you stood up to everyone because you wanted to do the right thing.”

“But I wasn't right. Mr. Hughes isn't a thief.”

Miss Julia smiled. “Even so, speaking up isn't easy. It takes courage. Do you remember how hard it was for you to sing on stage with your sisters just yesterday? And now look at you, facing down a criminal in his office!”

Maddie laughed, a hiccupy kind of laugh. “Not a criminal.”

“You thought he was! And you stood there and faced him down. That's bold.”

“I'm not like Mia and Lulu,” Maddie said. “I'm never going to be the kind of girl who wants to stand on stage and perform like they do.”

“No, but you're exactly the way
you
should be, Maddie,” Miss Julia said.

Maddie shook her head. “I'm not any particular way.”

Miss Julia looked her straight in the eye. “I know it's hard to see yourself from the outside. I feel that way a lot of the time too, Maddie. Just know that you're a special, brave girl, someone I admire.”

Maddie could hear the honesty in Miss Julia's voice. Even though Miss Julia was saying such big, seemingly
impossible things, she didn't seem to be saying them only to make Maddie feel better. Maddie dared looking up at Miss Julia's face, where she saw nothing but truth. She nodded slowly.

“Lip gloss?” Miss Julia said, so suddenly that she made Maddie laugh. Miss Julia rummaged around in her purse. “Lip gloss generally makes everything feel better.”

Miss Julia never offered any of her makeup, not even when Lulu begged and begged.

Maddie put some on and couldn't help but smile at her reflection when Miss Julia held up a mirror. “Thanks, Miss Julia.”

“Let's go find those sisters of yours,” Miss Julia said. “Before a Glimmer burns down this office or something equally disastrous.”

Maddie giggled all the way back to Mr. Hughes' office.

“Maddie, it was so amazing,” Mia said.

“Thank you, Mr. Hughes, for giving us so much time this afternoon,” Miss Julia said.

“It's my pleasure,” he said. “And thank you for taking such an interest in our paintings. Now remember, no trailing after criminals, girls, do you hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Lulu said, saluting. “Are you wearing lip gloss, Maddie? I want some!”

“Come on, girls,” Miss Julia said, winking at Maddie. “We can discuss lip gloss outside.”

TWENTY-FOUR

D
own the stairs they went. In the lobby, the receptionist glanced up with the same frown she'd worn from the moment they walked in. She looked as though she was about to say something, but stopped as a young woman came out from the downstairs hallway. The woman had paint under her fingernails and was carrying a large bag over her shoulder, the kind an artist might use to carry a portfolio. She was mid-conversation on her phone, but paused to say to the receptionist, “Deliveries complete!”

“Thank you, Aria,” the receptionist said.

Something was so familiar about this woman—the receptionist had called her Aria. Maddie stared after her, and then it clicked. Aria had been in the National Gallery offices too. Maddie trailed her out onto the steps in time to hear her say, “Yes, three o'clock, by the fountain in Trafalgar Square.”

Tossing Maddie an annoyed look as though she realized Maddie had been eavesdropping, the woman yanked the bag up on her shoulder and hurried away.

Maddie's heart thudded in her chest. Aria had been talking about Renoir when she was at the National Gallery, and now she had planned a suspicious-sounding meeting. Plus, she was carrying a bag that
was plenty big enough to carry the painting. If Aria made deliveries to the National Gallery and to the National Archives, she had plenty of access to make it possible for her to pull off the robberies.

“Maddie, what now?” Mia asked as she walked up to her sister.

“I want to go see the painting,” she said.

“Now?” Mia asked. “But you said—”

“I know. I changed my mind.”

If the painting was missing, minutes after Lulu and Mia had seen it with their own eyes, someone would have had to have taken it in that very small window of time. If so, wouldn't that prove Aria had to be the thief? Maddie couldn't bring herself to tell anyone her suspicions, though, not after everything that had happened. What if she was wrong again?

“Maddie,” Miss Julia said, in her most patient of voices. “I understand your wanting to see the painting now that you're feeling better, but we already took up a lot of Mr. Hughes' time. Maybe later I can call him and see if we can set up an appointment before we leave town.”

“But I need to see the painting
now
,” Maddie said.

“I'm sorry, Maddie,” Miss Julia said. “I really don't want to disappoint you, but seeing the painting now isn't an option. I promise I'll call Mr. Hughes to set an appointment up for you.”

“I'm hungry!” Lulu said.

“We're just around the corner from the hotel,” Miss Julia said, checking her watch. “Your mom's concert is at three thirty today. We have a couple hours. Should we go eat some lunch and rest a bit before the concert?”

“Doritos for lunch!” Lulu shouted.

“And some vegetables,” Miss Julia said, but she was smiling.

Mia hung back to walk with Maddie. “I'm sorry you didn't get to see the painting. But now you'll get a private showing of it with Mr. Hughes. You can look at it as long as you like, maybe sketch it, the way you wanted to.”

Maddie couldn't stop thinking about Aria and her meeting. If she couldn't prove that the painting was missing right now, how else could she stop Aria from selling the painting? Because that was what was going to happen, Maddie was sure of it.

“Is the vault downstairs?” she asked Mia.

“What?” Mia asked.

“Did Mr. Hughes take you downstairs to go into the vault to see the painting?”

“Yes, why?”

“Are there a lot of locks? Is the painting in a safe?”

“There are not a lot of locks, no. Only a key card that Mr. Hughes used to go through a door, and the painting was right there, out on the table. He said they were going to do some tests to make sure the painting wasn't deteriorating.”

“So if someone had a keycard, she could go in there and take the painting at any time?”

“I guess so. But didn't Mr. Hughes say that no one from their office would do something like that? They looked into everyone, I think.”

“Yes, they checked all of their employees, but what about everyone who works at the National Gallery? They couldn't investigate all of them, because there are too many people. And what about delivery people, like that lady—Aria—who just left the office?”

“What about her?”

“She had a giant bag with her, big enough to hold a painting. How do we know she didn't just steal it right out from under our noses?”

“Don't you think enough is enough?” Mia rounded on Maddie, arms folded. “You've run us all over town. We all followed you even when we didn't think Mr. Hughes was a thief. We're in London, Maddie. Can't you just relax and have fun? Since when have you become obsessed with solving mysteries?”

“I'm not obsessed, I just want to know what's happening in this particular case, with this particular painting. I just . . . feel like I shouldn't let it go.”

“What's going on back there, ladies?” Miss Julia asked, giving Mia a warning look. “You know, I think we're all pretty tired. Maybe we can talk more about what happened today—if we need to—after lunch. For now, I think we should put the subject away.”

Maddie stuffed her hands into her pockets and kept walking, trying to think of a solution. If she couldn't talk about the robbery, and she only had until three o'clock today to do something about it, what options did that leave?

God
, she prayed silently,
help me figure out what to do
.

Was it truly her responsibility to do anything at all? As soon as the question popped into her mind, she pushed away the thought. Of course it was. She was the only one who had all the pieces. That meant she was the only one who could stop “Sun-Splattered Afternoon” from being sold to who-knows-who. Somehow, in some way, she would be there at Trafalgar Square today at three o'clock.

TWENTY-FIVE

B
ack at the hotel, they sat at a glass-topped table in the lobby restaurant and had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Lulu also ordered Doritos, and Miss Julia ordered a side of English peas, which turned out to be surprisingly sweet and tasty. Maddie tried to enjoy lunch, tried to enjoy listening to her sisters joke and laugh, but the clock kept tugging at her attention. Minute after minute ticked by. 1:45. Then, 1:55. How long did it take to walk to Trafalgar Square from their hotel? Not long—they'd done it the first day they came to London, on their way to tea.

She couldn't ask Miss Julia to go with her, but surely Mia would go along. Lulu would definitely be up for the adventure, but she'd never be able to keep the trip a secret from Miss Julia. For that matter, Maddie had no idea how
she
could keep the trip a secret from Miss Julia.

“I think we should all take a power nap before the concert,” Miss Julia announced, looking over at Maddie with concern. “We've had so much excitement today. The Tower and the Palace, and then our cross-London hike. Plus, we were up very early, and I know you girls are a little jet-lagged still.”

“I don't like naps,” Lulu complained, and promptly yawned.

“How about we all curl up in our beds then,” Miss Julia suggested. “You can read or do some other quiet activity. If you nap, great. If not, no big deal.”

Maddie tried to act casual as they headed off to their rooms, but inside, she was doing a happy dance. Here was her opportunity to slip away from Miss Julia with Mia! All they had to do now was to wait out Lulu, until she fell asleep, and then they could go. Lulu would be furious when she found out they'd gone without her, but Maddie knew they couldn't get halfway to the door with Lulu in tow. Even if she was trying to sneak, she'd most likely sneak full volume.

They snuggled under blankets and Maddie pretended to read, flipping page after page but not taking in a word. 2:05. 2:08. Finally, she heard Lulu give a tiny snore—her little sister was asleep.

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