The Skeleton in the Smithsonian (4 page)

When KC sat up, she felt groggy. She heard a man’s voice through the door “Are you kids all right?” the voice called.

“We’re okay!” Marshall yelled back.

“Great, we’ll have you out in a jiffy,” the voice said. “Stand back while I bust this lock!”

KC and Marshall moved a few feet away from the door. Suddenly they heard a loud smashing sound of metal against metal. The door opened, and sunlight flooded the crypt. Blinking in the sudden light, KC and Marshall staggered up the steps.

The first thing KC saw was Happy, the little white dog. He was straining at his leash, barking and practically dancing with excitement.

Happy’s owner was standing with two police officers. A police car was parked a few yards away.

“Thank goodness you’re all right!” Happy’s owner said.

KC smiled at the woman. “Thank you so much! We would have been trapped in that crypt forever if your dog hadn’t found us!”

Marshall got on his knees and gave Happy a big hug. Happy licked Marshall’s face and wiggled all over.

“Who locked you kids in there?” the male officer asked. He was a tall man with a friendly face.

“Leonard Fisher,” KC said. “We have to hurry! He’s getting away!”

“Leonard Fisher?” the officer repeated. “Isn’t he the heir to the Smithsonian fortune?”

“Yeah,” said Marshall, still holding Happy. “But he’s not really an heir!”

KC quickly explained how Leonard Fisher had lied about being related to James Smithson.

“He put his great-great-grandfather’s skeleton in the Smithsonian,” Marshall added. “Then he stole James Smithson’s skeleton and brought it here!” Marshall pointed through the door at the instrument case.

All three adults stared down into the crypt. The bones were easy to see in the sunlight.

“This is a crime scene,” the female officer said. She walked to the cruiser and came back with a roll of wide yellow plastic tape. She and her partner quickly wrapped the tape around the crypt.

“Okay, let’s go,” the male officer said. “Where do you kids live?”

“We’re not going home yet,” KC told the man.

He looked at her. “So where do you want us to take you?”

“To the White House!” KC said.

    Less than an hour later, the kids were sitting across from President Thornton, Vice President Kincaid, and KC’s mom. The adults listened wide-eyed as KC told the story.

The kind police officers had called the
White House from their car. They’d been put right through to the vice president. She’d told the president, he’d called KC’s mom, and all three had been waiting when the police car arrived.

Now they were in the president’s private rooms. A maid had brought in sandwiches and they were all eating lunch. George the cat lay snoozing in a patch of sunshine.

“You went to Maryland on a bus without telling me?” KC’s mom said. “If I weren’t so relieved, I’d ground you right now!”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” KC said. “But we had to follow Leonard Fisher. I just knew there was something weird about him.”

“Well, as it turns out, you were right on the money,” President Thornton said. He
tapped a memo he was holding. “Our FBI agents picked up Mr. Fisher. He admitted everything.”

“His idea was very clever,” the vice president said. “Fisher assumed that we’d end up comparing his DNA with that of James Smithson. So he simply switched skeletons ahead of time. He never even told his lawyer what he’d done.”

“He broke the air-conditioning in the Smithsonian,” Marshall said. “Then he pretended to be a repairman so he could go in and swap the skeletons.”

The president smiled at Marshall. “When you brought up DNA, Fisher was actually relieved,” he said. “He couldn’t suggest DNA himself or it would seem suspicious. So he was happy when you did it for him.”

“What made you suspect him to begin with?” KC’s mom asked.

KC pointed to the vase of tall flowers on the table. “When he came here, he was sneezing and told us he was allergic to lilies,” she said. “But there weren’t any lilies in the vase!”

“So Fisher wasn’t a landscape designer for the rich?” the president said. “I wonder why he lied about that.”

“I don’t think he wanted you to know he worked for the cemetery,” KC said. “He was afraid you’d find out his relatives were buried there and you might figure out his plan.”

Mary Kincaid nodded. “I think you’re right,” she said. “Let’s just all be grateful to that little dog.”

The president glanced at KC and
Marshall. “I don’t know why we need a police force or FBI agents,” he said. “With you two on the job, crooks don’t stand a chance!”

KC and Marshall blushed.

“Well, I have to get busy,” the vice president said. “We have to return the two skeletons to their rightful resting places.”

“And I have to get back to my office,” KC’s mom said, glancing at the president.

President Thornton stood up. “Yes, let me get a car for you, Lois,” he said. “I’ll call from the other room.”

The president and KC’s mom left the room together. KC and Marshall were alone with George the cat.

“Gee, that’s funny,” Marshall said as he reached for a cookie.

“What is?” KC asked.

Marshall grinned at KC. “I wonder why the president had to leave the room to use the phone? There’s one right there on that table.”

KC couldn’t think of a good reason.

“I think they wanted to be alone,” Marshall whispered.

“And I think
you
have an overactive imagination!” KC shot back.

“Me? That’s the best joke I’ve heard in a year!”

Just then the door opened. The president and KC’s mom walked back in.

“Are you two finished with lunch?” KC’s mom asked the kids. “The car is ready for us.”

As KC and Marshall got ready to leave, KC stole a glance at her mom and the president. They were standing next to
each other by the door. The presidents left arm and her mom’s right arm were an inch apart.

But their pinkie fingers were touching.

    The next day, KC and Marshall stood with the president in the Smithsonian Castle. The same two scientists as before removed the lids from the sarcophagus and a special container holding Smithson’s remains. The scientists silently exchanged the two skeletons and replaced the lids. They left the building carrying old Mr. Fishers skeleton in the container. They told the president they were on their way to Bowie, Maryland.

When the kids followed the president out of the Castle, KC was surprised to find her mom waiting on the steps.

“Mom, what’re you doing here?” KC asked.

“I decided to take the day off,” her mom said, glancing at the president.

“And I’m taking us all to lunch,” the president said. “Your mother and I have something to tell you, KC.”

Marshall snorted and gave KC a playful shove. He waggled his eyebrows.

KC returned the shove. She smiled at her mother and the president. “Good,” she said. “I love surprises!”

Read KC and Marshall’s next adventure
!

The Spy in the White House

When KC and Marshall walked into the president’s rooms, they got a shock.

KC’s mom was crying. The president stood next to her, holding a newspaper in his hand.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” KC asked. She hurried over to her mother.

The president held out the paper so KC and Marshall could see Darla Darling’s column. The headline was at least five inches tall. It said:

PRESIDENT MAY
CANCEL WEDDING!

“Someone is spying on us!” Lois said, wiping her eyes. “They’re hearing our private conversations!”

Did you know?

The SMITHSONIAN takes its name from James Smithson. He died in 1829 and left his money to a nephew. But when the nephew died with no children, all that money came to the United States— more than half a million dollars!

Why did Smithson leave his wealth to the United States? This has always been a mystery. He was born in France, grew up in England, and died in Italy. He never actually visited this country!

James Smithson was born into a wealthy family. When he grew up, he became a scientist and studied chemistry and geology. There’s even a rock named after him—smithsonite.

We may never know why Smithson chose the United States to receive his fortune. But he wrote that he wanted the money to be used to create a place for learning. He got his wish in 1855, when the first Smithsonian building was completed. It was built of red stone and looked like a castle.

When James Smithson died in Italy in 1829, he was buried there. But in 1904, the United States sent Alexander Graham Bell to Italy to bring the remains to Washington, D.C. James Smithson would be pleased to know his final resting place is inside the first Smithsonian building.