Who Broke Lincoln's Thumb? Read online

  “What are you going to do, Zachary?” Lois asked quietly.

  The president shook his head. “Pay the ransom. I don’t have a choice,” he mumbled as he left the room.

  Mary Kincaid picked up the ransom note by its edges. “Maybe they left fingerprints,” she said, then followed the president.

  KC’s mom let out a sigh. “What are you kids going to do?” she asked, walking to the door. “I have to be with Zachary.”

  “Finish these brownies,” Marshall said, reaching for one.

  “We’ll be fine, Mom,” KC said. Her mother nodded and went to find the president.

  KC began pacing in front of Marshall. “Did you notice that the ransom note said ‘we’?” she asked. “So it wasn’t just one person who stole the thumb.”

  “Maybe it was that man with his wife and kid,” Marshall said. “Remember, he was taking pictures when we first got there this morning.”

  “Marsh, he’s the one who told us the thumb was missing,” KC said.

  She reached for the snapshot of Stub on the ladder at 10:07. Lincoln still had his thumb.

  KC’s picture, taken a half hour later, showed no thumb.

  KC tapped the snapshot of Stub standing on the black ladder. “Whoever broke Lincoln’s thumb off had to climb these ladders,” she reasoned.

  Marsh was busy swallowing, so he just nodded.

  “And the only time it could have been done was when Stub and Ralphie were taking their coffee break,” KC went on. She tapped the photo again. “This picture proves the thumb was on Lincoln’s hand before their break.”

  Marshall swiped his tongue across his chocolatey lips. “So?”

  “So maybe Stub and Ralphie saw the thieves walk between the columns but thought they were just tourists,” KC said. “It would take only a few minutes for someone to climb the ladders and smack off the thumb!”

  KC’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s go find Stub and Ralphie,” she said. “If they saw the thieves, they’ll be heroes!”

  7

  Labels and Ladders

  KC called D.C. information and learned that the National Park Service had a building where they kept the maintenance equipment. It was located behind the National Museum of Natural History.

  The kids trekked down Pennsylvania Avenue, then cut across a wide lawn shaded by tall trees.

  The Park Service structure looked like a huge barn. It was as tall as the trees that grew around it and was built of faded bricks and thick timbers. The only entrance was a high, wide door made of wood, large enough for trucks to drive in and out. But cut into this giant-sized opening was a small, human-sized door. It, too, was closed.

  Just as KC reached to knock on the door, it swung open. Two young women came out, both in gray Park Service uniforms. They each carried backpacks. “Have a good weekend, Judy,” one of the women said to her friend. “See you Monday.”

  The women smiled at KC and Marshall. “Can we help you?” the one called Judy asked.

  “We’re looking for Stub and Ralphie,” Marshall said.

  The other woman pointed back over her shoulder. “They’re in the back room,” she said. “But you’d better hurry. They’re getting ready to quit for the day.”

  KC and Marshall thanked the women and hurried inside. The floor was concrete and the room deeply shadowed. A few small light bulbs cast a dim glow from the high ceiling. The only windows were at the very top, and they were so dirty that almost no daylight came through.

  The cavelike place smelled like dirt and rotting leaves. Peering into the shadows, the kids could make out large equipment for taking care of lawns and gardens. The tractors and mowers looked like sleeping monsters.

  “This place is creepy,” Marshall whispered. “Where are we going, anyway?”

  KC pointed straight ahead at a light shining through a small door. They heard sounds coming from a radio or TV set.

  When the kids reached the door, they peeked inside. It was another massive room, but at least this one was well lit. A dusty rug lay on the concrete floor under some furniture and a TV set. On one wall, KC saw a sink. Lined up against the wall were pails, brooms, plastic buckets of soap, and a basket filled with cleaning rags.

  Ralphie was sprawled on a sofa in front of the TV, eating potato chips.

  Stub stood in a corner next to a ladder that leaned against the wall. High over his head, more ladders hung from a rack suspended from the ceiling.

  Stub pushed a button on the wall, and a loud clanking sound drowned out the sound of the TV. The entire rack holding the ladders slowly lowered until it was level with Stub’s head. When Stub released the button, the rack stopped.

  “Hi,” KC said. “It’s KC and Marshall, remember us?”

  Both men turned toward the door.

  Stub blinked, then took a step toward the kids. “Oh, hi,” he said. “The president’s kid, right?”

  KC nodded. “Well, not really, but he’s my mom’s husband,” she said.

  Ralphie sat up on the sofa.

  “We’re helping the president find Lincoln’s thumb,” KC went on. “We think it was stolen during your coffee break.”

  “You do?” Ralphie asked. He turned off the TV.

  “It had to be then,” Marshall said. He explained about the times that the two pictures were taken. “The thumb was still there when you had your picture taken at 10:07, but it was gone a half hour later.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Stub said. He hung the ladder on the rack, then walked over and sat in a chair.

  “So is that when you went for your break?” Marshall continued.

  Stub nodded. “It must’ve been right around then,” he said. “Yeah, now I remember. That tourist who snapped my picture? I remember, we went for our break right after the guy gave Ralphie the Polaroid.”

  “Where were you when you drank your coffee?” KC asked. “I mean, could you see if anyone went near the statue?”

  “We sat in the truck,” Ralphie said.

  “Yeah, but it was raining like crazy,” Stub said. “I remember saying to Ralphie, ‘Gee, I can’t see nothing out of these windows!’ So we couldn’t see if anyone went near the statue or not.”

  “Rats!” KC said. She started pacing back and forth. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost three-thirty. The president is going to drop off the ransom in a half hour!”

  “He is?” Stub asked, sitting up straighter.

  “Yes, it’s the only way we can get the thumb back,” KC said, pacing again.

  She stopped next to the rack of ladders. Behind her, she heard Marshall telling Stub and Ralphie about the ransom note.

  KC had never seen so many ladders in her life. They hung straight down from the rack, like giant icicles. On the bottom rung of each ladder, there was a yellow label telling the ladder’s length. Next to the yellow labels were smaller red ones with the words DANGER! KEEP AWAY FROM ELECTRIC WIRES! printed in bold black letters.

  KC thought of the red mark she had seen on the stub of Lincoln’s thumb. FBI scientist Pierce had told the president that the mark was some kind of red paper with glue on the back.

  These labels are glued on, KC said to herself.

  KC’s mind raced back to ten-thirty. She and Marshall were at the statue. One of the ladders was lying on the floor where anyone could have tripped over it. Why wasn’t it leaning against the statue, like the other ladder?

  In her mind, she saw Stub and Ralphie climbing the steps in front of the monument, coming from their coffee break. It was still windy, but the rain had stopped. The sun was shining.

  So was Stub lying when he said it was raining during their coffee break? Why would he lie about that? Unless … and suddenly it all made sense to KC.

  The ladder she had seen lying on the floor had knocked off the thumb. Maybe the wind had blown the ladder into the statue. When the ladder hit the thumb, part of the label scraped off, leaving the red mark.

  KC felt her stomach dive toward her feet. Praying she wasn’t
being watched, she tried to peel off part of a red label.

  “KC,” she heard Marshall say.

  Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  It was Stub, and she didn’t like the look on his face.

  Behind Stub, Marshall looked at KC with a question in his eyes.

  KC tried her best to send a silent message to Marshall: RUN!

  Stub put a finger on the wall button. With a tremendous clatter, the ladder rack began heading toward the ceiling.

  Stub turned KC toward Marshall and Ralphie. “Go have a seat next to your pal, missy,” he said. “Nice and slow. Ralphie, lock the door.”

  8

  Who Broke Lincoln’s Thumb?

  KC had no choice but to do as Stub told her. Her legs were shaking so hard she wasn’t sure she could make it to the sofa.

  “What’s going on?” Marshall asked as he watched Ralphie snap the lock on the door. “Hey, why are you—”

  “They took the thumb, Marsh,” KC said. Even her voice was shaking. “These are the crooks!”

  “When did you figure it out?” Stub asked, plopping into his chair.

  “Just now,” KC said. “When I saw those red labels on all the ladders. You left both ladders standing against the statue when you took your break. You lied about it being rainy, but it was real windy. One of the ladders blew against Lincoln’s hand and busted the thumb off. The red label left the red mark.”

  Ralphie came and sat next to Stub. “We didn’t mean to break the thing off,” he said. “After it happened, we didn’t know what to do, so we hid it.”

  “Shut up, Ralphie. No one will believe it was an accident,” Stub whined.

  “Yeah, especially since you sent a ransom note for a hundred thousand bucks!” Marshall blurted out. “Was that an accident, too?”

  Stub grinned. “We figured we might as well make some money.” He chuckled. “Why shouldn’t we get a reward for returning the famous Lincoln thumb?”

  “You don’t deserve any reward!” KC said, steaming. “You should’ve told the truth about what happened, not tried to cheat the government!”

  “Besides, where is the thumb?” Marshall added. “How do we know you really have it?”

  “Oh, we have it, all right,” Stub said. He walked over to the wall, picked up one of the buckets, and brought it over to where the others were sitting. Then he dumped the bucket’s contents onto the sofa.

  What fell out was Lincoln’s thumb.

  KC and Marshall just stared. The marble thumb was long, smooth, and nearly white. The thumbnail was almost as big as KC’s fist. The other end, where the thumb had broken, was jagged.

  “What are you going to do with it?” KC asked.

  Stub put the thumb back in the bucket. “First, we’re gonna collect our money,” he said, winking at Ralphie. “Then we’ll disappear. They’ll be so happy to get the thumb back, they won’t even look for us.”

  “What about us?” Marshall asked.

  The two men walked toward the door. “You’ll be fine,” Stub said. “The crew comes back Monday morning. You two can watch TV till then.”

  “Monday!” Marshall yelled. “You can’t leave us till then! We’ll starve!”

  Ralphie pointed to his potato chips. “You can finish those,” he said, unlocking the door. Both men walked out. Then KC and Marshall heard the lock click.

  KC jumped up and tried to open the door, but it was solidly shut. She rattled the handle and tugged, but nothing happened.

  KC took out her Swiss Army knife. She opened the sharpest blade and began hacking at the wood around the lock.

  “It’s no use,” Marshall told her. “It will take you hours. And even if we get out of this room, we’ll still be locked in the building!”

  “You’re right,” KC admitted. She put her knife back in her pocket and flopped down on the sofa. “They’re gonna get the money, and maybe they won’t even leave the thumb!”

  Marshall sat next to KC and picked up the bag of chips. He popped a few into his mouth. “Why aren’t there any windows in this stupid building?” he mumbled.

  “There are, but they’re too high up,” KC said. She pointed to the small windows right under the ceiling. They were about twenty feet off the floor.

  Marshall looked up and nearly choked on his chips. “Ladders!” he yelled. “There are about a million of them hanging on that rack!”

  Both kids flew off the sofa and ran over to the button that controlled the rack. KC pushed it, and the rack began to lower, making a terrible clatter all the way down.

  “We need the tallest ladder,” Marshall said.

  “That one!” KC said, pointing to an aluminum ladder that looked about ten feet long. The yellow label said TWENTY FEET WHEN FULLY EXTENDED.

  But when they tried to get the ladder off the rack, they couldn’t budge it even an inch.

  “It’s too heavy,” Marshall said. “We’ll never get it down.”

  KC kicked the wall. “This is so stupid!” she shouted. “We’re locked in a room full of ladders, but we can’t use them!”

  She reached for the button to send the ladder rack back up to the ceiling.

  “Wait a sec,” Marshall said. He stared at the windows high up on the wall. “I have an idea. Climb one of these ladders to the top of the rack and lie flat. I’ll push the button, then climb up there with you. The rack will—”

  “Take us up to the windows!” KC interrupted. “Marshall Li, you are a genius!”

  Marshall blushed.

  KC climbed one of the ladders until she reached the top of the rack. She got down on her stomach. The ladder ends poked into her, like rocks under a beach blanket. “Okay, now you come up,” she said to Marshall.

  Marshall pushed the button to raise the rack, then stopped it.

  “Why’d you do that?” KC asked, gazing down at Marshall.

  “We might need this,” Marshall said, grabbing a small shovel off the wall. Then he mashed the button again and started climbing a ladder.

  The rack clattered as it took KC and Marshall toward the ceiling of the maintenance building. Both kids were on their stomachs.

  “If this thing goes too high, we’re gonna get smushed against the ceiling!” KC said. She turned her head to look up. The ceiling was only a few feet above her back, and the rack was still rising!

  Suddenly the rack shook, made a final clatter, and shuddered to a stop. The kids rolled over onto their backs. Their faces were only inches from the ceiling.

  Both kids had sweat dripping from their hair into their faces. “It must be two hundred degrees up here!” Marshall said. He used his T-shirt to wipe his eyes.

  “Look,” KC said, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Two feet away from where they perched on the rack was a small window. It was covered with soot and spiderwebs. Dead flies hung in the webs.

  “Cool!” Marshall said. “I wonder where the spider is.”

  “Marsh, we’ve got a little situation here,” KC said. “Can you think about spiders after we get out of here?”

  “No problem,” Marshall said. He handed KC the shovel he’d brought up, then reached over and tried to push the window out. It didn’t move. Then he tried to pull the window up, but that didn’t work, either.

  “It’s totally stuck,” Marshall said. “It won’t open.”

  “Oh yeah?” KC said. Swinging the shovel handle like a baseball bat, she smashed the blade into the filthy glass. She and Marshall covered their eyes as the window shattered and a cool breeze blew into their faces.

  9

  The Capture and the Cake

  “Awesome!” Marshall said. He took the shovel from KC and tapped out small shards of glass still in the window’s frame. When there were no more sharp edges, he leaned over and stuck out his head.

  “What do you see?” KC asked.

  “We’re about a million miles up,” Marshall said. “And that’s the good news.”

  “What’s the bad news?” KC asked.

  �
�There’s no roof under the window,” Marshall said. “We can’t climb out because there’s nothing to stand on!”

  KC just stared at Marshall. Then she wriggled to the edge of the rack and stuck her head out the window. She saw the Washington Monument in the distance. She saw the roofs of buildings and looked into the branches of trees.

  And she saw tourists walking among those trees, as small as action figures.

  KC took a deep breath and started screaming. “HELP! WE’RE UP HERE! LOOK, WE’RE UP HERE!”

  A few of the tiny tourists stopped and looked up. KC waved down at them.

  “CALL THE POLICE!” KC yelled.

  One of the tourists pulled out a phone.

  KC, her mother, and Marshall watched President Thornton climb the steps in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Hundreds of people stood or sat on the lawn.

  The president smiled as he stepped up to the podium. Behind him, Abraham Lincoln sat on his giant chair. He seemed to be listening, too.

  And he had both thumbs.

  An hour after KC and Marshall had been rescued from the maintenance building, Stub and Ralphie were arrested. They had the hundred thousand dollars with them, as well as the thumb.

  “So how did they get the thumb back on Lincoln’s hand so fast?” Marshall whispered to KC. “Superglue?”

  “No, superwire,” KC said. “They have it tied on until they can get a marble expert to fasten it on permanently.”

  “… Daniel Chester French will long be remembered for this monumental achievement,” the president said. “But I’m guessing he also liked to have fun. If he were here, he’d want the party to begin!”

  The crowd whistled and clapped. Red, white, and blue balloons were released and soared into the air. The United States Marine Band began playing a march.

  “Let’s eat!” Marshall said, grabbing KC by the arm.

  Tables of food had been set up along one side of the Reflecting Pool. Marshall headed for the cake. It was about ten feet long. Blue-frosting stars decorated the corners. The rest of the cake had huge pictures of the Lincoln statue and Daniel Chester French in thick frosting.