One False Note - 39 Clues 02 (3 page)

"Okay, fine," Dan began. "Keep her necklace -- " "No, look. There's a library in the basement! A Mozart library!" "Amy, don't do this to me! The antidote for boring isn't to find something even boringer!"

But when she went down the stairs and entered the gloomy, dusty library, he was at her side. After all, some of their best leads so far had come from libraries. And besides, if they left the Mozarthaus now empty-handed, it would mean he had suffered for nothing.

It wasn't a lending library. A single twenty-year-old computer held a list of library materials. Once you decided on what you wanted, you filled out a request and handed it to a librarian who looked like she could have been Mozart's grandmother. They waited their turn at the terminal, and Amy took over the keyboard. She switched the language from German to English and searched first for KV 617 and then for Ben Franklin. Finding nothing they didn't already know, she shifted her focus to Mozart's personal life. That was where she discovered Maria Anna "Nannerl" Mozart. "Mozart had an older sister!" she whispered shrilly. "He has my sympathy," yawned Dan.

"I remember Grace mentioning her," Amy went on. "She was just as talented as Mozart, but she never got the training or the exposure because she was a girl."

She scrolled down. "And
lo
ok -
Her original diary is right in this library!"

Dan was miffed. He knew Amy had been closer with their grandmother, but even so, he didn't appreciate the reminder of how much the two had shared. "I thought we were looking for Mozart, not his sister."

"If Mozart was a Cahill, so was Nannerl," Amy pointed out. "But there's something else, too. Look at the two of us. This whole morning was a blur to you, and I remember every detail. What if it was the same with Mozart and Nannerl?" "Great. Now you're calling Mozart stupid." He looked up in outrage. "And me!" "Not stupid. But boys' brains are wired differently. I'll bet there are things Nannerl put in her journal that Wolfgang wouldn't have noticed in a million years." She quickly scribbled a request form and handed it to the elderly librarian. The woman regarded them with surprise. "This is a handwritten diary in the German
language. Do you children read German?" "W-well -- " Amy began, flustered.

"We really need to see it," Dan piped up firmly. When the woman shuffled off in search of the volume, he whispered, "There must be something we can understand -- maybe a drawing, or hidden notes, like on Franklin's stuff." Amy nodded. Even the slightest hint was bet
ter than progress point zero.

They waited for what seemed like a long time. Then they heard a gasp and a little cry, and the librarian came running back, her face pale, her eyes wide. With trembling hands, she dialed the telephone and began speaking in a frantic voice. They could not understand her German, but Amy and Dan were able to make out a single ominous word --
polizei.

"That means police!" Amy whispered urgently.

"Do you think she somehow found out we're wanted by Social Services back in Massachusetts?" Dan asked in dismay. "How could she? We didn't even tell her our names!"

The answer came from the distraught librarian herself. "I am so sorry! This is a terrible tragedy! Nannerl's diary is missing! It has been stolen!"

CHAPTER 4

Nellie Gomez had never been a cat person. And that was before she'd become chief caregiver to an Egyptian Mau on a food-free diet. She switched off her iPod and regarded Saladin with concern. She had expected that the cat would be eating by now. But apparently, Saladin was tougher than he looked. She'd heard stories of Grace Cahill's monumental strength of character. Obviously, Amy and Dan's grandmother had managed to instill that trait in her pet.

Even more worrisome, Saladin was scratching compulsively around his neck and ears. She picked him up. "What's the matter, sweetie? Have you got fleas?" She thought about fleas for a second and put the cat down swiftly. Nellie was game to put college on hold and take two kids on an around-the-world high-stakes treasure hunt. But she didn't do bugs.

There was the sound of a key in the lock, and Amy and Dan came in, feet dragging.

"Uh-oh," said Nellie. "Rough morning?"

"Oh, it was a blast," Dan replied sarcastically. "Picture a million-year-old house with no video games, and when you finally find a book to look at, it's not even there. What a bunch of idiots! They practically called out the army because of a diary that was
probably eaten by termites a century ago."

"Termites eat wood, not paper," Amy reminded him, too tired and discouraged to work up a good argument. She hefted a bag. "Anyway, we brought lunch." Nellie stared. "Burger King? We're in Austria, land of schnitzel, sauerbraten, white asparagus, and the greatest pastry in the world, and you bought American fast food? I'd expect it from Dan, but you, Amy?"

Dan took a burger, turned on the TV, and flopped on the couch. "White asparagus! Green wasn't gross enough. Soggy cigars, man."

The monitor brightened. The image crackled and sharpened. Three jaws dropped. Larger than life at the center of the screen was an attractive teenager, resplendent in the latest hip-hop fashion. Smiling with all thirty-two gleaming white teeth, he was holding a press conference, and the gaggle of reporters and throng of adoring fans were lapping it up. The teen was completely comfortable with his fame, and why not? He had the top-rated reality TV show in the world, the number-one single on the pop charts, a bestselling clothing line, a series
of popular children's books, action figures, souvenir steak knives, and even his own Pez dispenser.

His name was Jonah Wizard: international star and mogul, Cahill cousin, rival in the search for the 39 Clues.

"Jonah!" Amy exclaimed, her brow furrowed with worry. It unnerved her to think of their competition. The others seemed to have so much going for them -- fame, brawn, experience, training, and lots and lots of money. How could a couple of no-name orphans expect to compete with that? She squinted at the date stamp in the bottom corner of the screen. "This was recorded yesterday! What's he doing in Vienna?"

"He's on a promotional tour," supplied Nellie. "The European DVD of Who Wants to Be a Gangsta? comes out this week."

"That's just a cover!" Dan exclaimed. "He's here because he knows the next clue is about Mozart. Maybe he found something we missed in Paris." "Or he's working with the Holts," Nellie added. "They must have checked where our train was headed."

Amy peered at her famous cousin on TV. Why did that street seem so familiar? Suddenly, she understood. "Dan -- it's Domgasse!"

Dan stared. "You're right! There's the Mozarthaus a couple of doors down! And look --it's that old librarian, the one who called out the SWAT team over a missi
ng diary!"

Nellie frowned at the elderly Austrian woman on the stoop. "Not my idea of the classic hip-hop fan."

Amy shrugged. "I suppose anybody would be interested to check out such a big star --" Her breath caught in her throat. "Guys, I've got it! What if it's no accident Jonah picked that spot for his press conference? What if he did it there to create a distraction
so he could steal Nannerl's diary from the Mozarthaus?"

"That would make sense," Dan mused, "except there he is on-screen, with twenty cameras on him, stealing nothing."

Amy shook her head. "When have we ever seen Jonah without his father standing right behind him, talking into two cell phones and making business deals on his BlackBerry? So where's Daddy at this press conference?"

Dan clued in. "Jonah held the conference to give his dad the chance to sneak into the Mozarthaus and swipe the diary! Amy, you were right -- the diary is
i
mportant!" "Yeah, and now the enemy has it."

"That stinks," Dan agreed. "We were just a day late. Still... " His eyes took on a glitter of inspiration. "They stole it from the museum; why can't we steal it from them?" "Hang on," Nellie burst in. "There's a big difference between searching for clues and robbin
g people. You're not crooks."

"But Jonah and his dad are," Dan argued. "If we're going to compete with them, we have to be willing to do what they do." Nellie was unmoved. "As long as I'm your babysitter -- " "Au pair!" Dan interjected hotly.

" -- I'm not going to stand by and let you two switch over to the dark side."

"But then we'll lose!
" Dan wailed.

Amy spoke up, her expression solemn. "As much as I hate to agree with Dan, he's got a point. I know stealing is wrong, but this contest is too huge for us to worry about being the good guys. A chance to influence human history -- we could change the whole

world!" "It
might
be a chance to change the world," Nellie amended. "That's what Mr. McIntyre said. He also said trust nobody -- and that includes him."

Sudden tears filled Amy's eyes and she blinked them back stubbornly. This was too important to blur with her blubbering. "We barely knew our parents before they died. Grace was all we had, and now she's gone, too. The contest is a big deal for everybody, but for us, it's all we have. We can't do this halfway. We have to go all out. And that means looking for clues wherever they are -- even inside somebody else's hotel room." Nellie remained silent. Amy swallowed hard and went on. "You're not a Cahill, so you
shouldn't have to put yourself at risk. But if you can't live with what we need to do, we'll just have to find a way to go on without you." Dan goggled at his sister. The road that lay ahead would instantly become twenty times more difficult, complicated, and dangerous without their au pair. The cover of an adult was essential to every step they took, every border they crossed, every hotel room they rented. They were already the underdogs of this contest. Alone, they would need miracles just to move from place to place, and day to day.

Nellie regarded the Cahill kids. She was used to Dan's impulsiveness, but Amy was the most sensible fourteen-year-old she'd ever known. All at once, she was overcome by a surge of affection and pride.

"You think you can get rid of me that easily?" she demanded. "Fat chance. This may be your show, but I still make the rules. No way am I going to let you burgle a superstar without me. Pull up a chair -- we've got a heist to plan."

The Royal Hapsburg Hotel was located at the heart of Vienna's Landstrasse district, the center of Austria's power elite. The building had once been a royal palace in the old Austro-Hungarian Empire, and floodlights made the white marble and gold leaf gleam against the night sky.

"How do we know this is his hotel?" Dan ask
ed as they circled the block.

"Simple," Amy told him. "It's the snootiest, fanciest, most expensive place in town. Where else would he be?" She pointed to the hotel's magnificent entrance, where reporters and photographers swarmed. "Proof enough?"

"The launch party for Jonah's new DVD is at eight," Nellie put in. "He'll probably come down, talk with reporters for a few minutes, and then head over to Eurotainment TV, which is hosting the bash. In the paper, they said everybody who's anybody is going to

be there."

Dan made a face. "I thought you quit being a Jonah Wizard fan when he dissed you in Paris."

"I'm helping you rob the guy, aren't I? What I'm saying is when he shows up down here, that means it's safe to get into his room."

As if on cue, a white chauffeur-driven Bentley whispered up to the curb and sat there, awaiting its Very Important Passenger. There was a stir in the crowd of media people, and the star himself emerged from his hotel, his ever-present father a half step behind him. Camera flashes lit up the night. "Quick!" hissed Amy. "We can't let him see us!"

They ducked behind a magazine kiosk and watched Jonah work the crowd.

"Whassup, yo? ... Thanks for coming out ... 'Predate that... Word."

Behind him, his father's thumbs were just a blur as he text messaged on his BlackBerry,

P
robably
sharing his son's eloquence with the world.

The media scrum began peppering the star with questions.

"Jonah, can we expect any surprises on the European version of the DVD?"

"Any truth to the rumor that you're dating Miley Cyrus?"

"Have you heard that the kung fu grip on your action figure flunked safety inspection?" Jonah answered these in his usual style, somehow managing to sound urban hip and folksy at the same time.

Amy didn't like him, but she couldn't help marveling at his ease and skill dealing with the paparazzi. It went beyond merely coming up with the right things to say. Jonah made the press
love
him.

I'm the total opposite of that,
she reflected. Just the thought of speaking to a large crowd terrified her.

"Hey, Jonah," a reporter called. "You're on top of the world at fifteen. Do you worry that you've got nowhere to go but down?"

The man of the hour grinned. "Chill out, yo. Who says I'm on top? I'm not even top banana in this hotel. Man, the Grand Duke of Luxembourg is staying right here. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty happening. But doesn't royalty beat having your own Pez dispenser?"

"Let's go," muttered Nellie. "His mo
desty is turning my stomach."