The Diamond Mistake Mystery by Sylvia McNicoll

Author:Sylvia McNicoll
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-05-10T16:00:00+00:00

DAY TWO, MISTAKE SEVEN

“There are no boring questions only boring people. If you researched a little more you would have found some interesting facts about the supply of diamonds and why they’re rare.”

I open my mouth to tell Mrs. Worsley about the salami sandwich DNA. I think that detail will convince her to let me research robberies instead but the bell rings. Later, I can look up more diamond heists on Dad’s computer, I don’t really have to convince Mrs. Worsley. Maybe one of the robberies will even give me a clue as to how to find Pearl’s pink diamond.

“Stephen, hurry,” Renée tells me. “We’re late for kindergarten dismissal.”

Whoops! Mrs. Worsley’s new Genius Hour made us forget to leave early to get Pearl. Renée and I grab our backpacks and jackets and dash outside to the fenced play area to pick her up.

Outside, I notice Mrs. Whittingham and her conga line of little kids walking off, August holding her hand.

Once Miss Buffet lets Pearl out of the gate, I snatch up her hand. “Hurry, Pearl, I want to catch up and ask Mrs. Whittingham about the library party.”

“I don’t want August to come.” Pearl yanks her hand away.

“We’re doing this for you,” Renée says. “Don’t you want to be invited to birthday parties?”

“Is it August’s birthday?” she asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” Renée answers.

Although I’m thinking it’s probably in August.

“He won’t invite me, anyway.” Pearl pulls down a strand of her hair and begins twirling. “He’s a junk wagon.”

“He is not a junk wagon! Be nice!” I snap, then continue more gently. “It’s not just about birthday parties. It’s about having a friend. Even just one.”

Her bottom lip plumps out. Her thumb comes to her mouth.

“It was hard for me, too, when my best friend moved away. I had no one.” I tug down the hair-twirling hand. “But if you’re nice to one person and they’re nice back … then you have one friend. Now I have Renée.”

Not sure if Pearl hears me or not, but she pulls off and runs ahead. She gets to Mrs. Whittingham, and August hides behind his mother. Finally, we catch up.

“Hey, there,” I call.

Renée jumps right to the point. “We want to know if August can come to the library Halloween party tomorrow afternoon.”

“With us,” I finish, in case Mrs. Whittingham thinks he’s supposed to get there alone. We keep walking alongside her in order to keep up with her little-kid parade.

“Also, we want to know when his birthday party is,” Pearl adds, smiling as big as she can.

“Oh, not for a while,” Mrs. Whittingham answers, tugging August forward.

“When, then?” Pearl presses.

“Next month,” she answers.

“Not in August?” I ask. Makes me wonder why else anyone would give their kid that weird name. He’s not alone either, there’s that guy August Van Camp who discovered the half-eaten salami evidence while walking his weasels.

“We didn’t name August for his birth month,” Mrs. Whittingham explains. “August is my maiden name.”

“Can I come next month then, August?” Pearl asks in a bubbly voice.

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