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my sister’s seatmate was a chimpanzee. The squirrel came down the tree and ran the rest of the way down the hill, toward the Smithsonian Castle.
    â€œThat’s where my art exhibit is,” said Ali. But the squirrel switched directions again and turned right, toward the Hirshhorn Museum.
    We followed him, past an ice-cream truck and about a bazillion people. Then the squirrel crossed another street and disappeared into the Hirshhorn’s outdoor sculpture garden.
    Ali and I have spent a lot of time at the sculpture garden. We like to play hide-and-seek there, even though it’s supposed to be a spot for “quiet contemplation.” The squirrel was playing hide-and-seek now.
    â€œSquirrel, Yeti,” I said. But he just looked in the stroller at Howard. Howard looked back like he was thinking
Now what?
    That’s what I wanted to know, too.

9. Alison
Nanny X Takes a Nap

    I was happy about three things.
    One: I didn’t have wet feet, like Jake.
    Two: We were away from the water and officially on land in Washington, D.C., where we could get down to the business of catching The Angler and maybe, eventually, go see my painting.
    Three: The sculpture garden seemed like the perfect place to solve a mystery about someone who wanted to put a sculpture on the White House lawn. It was one of my favorite places on the whole Mall. I liked it because instead of going inside a quiet museum to look at strange art, you could stay outside in the sunshine and look at it.
    And it looked like the strange art was about to get a little stranger.
    â€œI am not an art expert,” Boris said, “but I think
The Great Warrior of Montauban
has a problem with his hand.”
    The Warrior of Montauban had problems with otherbody parts, too. He was missing his knees and the bottom parts of his legs. He was also missing pants. And a shirt.
    He had a sword, though, a big one behind his back. And he had very muscular arms. One of his arms extended out to the side, and at the end of that arm was a giant hand. But his thumb was hanging from his hand at an odd angle.
    â€œMaybe it’s getting rusty,” said Jake.
    Nanny X squatted down beneath the arm and looked up at the thumb to get a closer look.
    â€œWatch out!” I said.
    The thumb waved a little, like it was barely even attached. Then it plunked like a raindrop, straight onto Nanny X’s head. Our nanny swayed back and forth as the thumb thumped onto the grass. Boris caught her before she joined it. He set her down, gently. When he removed her mirrored sunglasses, her eyes were closed. “She’s unconscious,” he said. He slid the thumb, which looked like it weighed about fifty pounds, into an evidence bag.
    â€œNanny X, wake up!” I said. I wondered what NAP would do about an agent who lost a computer and got knocked out on the same mission. I fanned her with my hands, because sometimes air revives people when they are unconscious. Soon our nanny’s eyes fluttered. When she opened them, the first thing she did was look at her watch. I thought it was because she was trying to figure out how long she’d been knocked out, but I was wrong. “It’s almost noon,” she said. “The thumb is a warning.”
    She didn’t say who was warning us, but we knew: The Angler.
    We tried to help Nanny X over to a bench.
    â€œI am not a frail old lady,” she said. “I’m very spry.” She plopped down on the bench, reached into the diaper bag and grabbed Mr. Ow, a cold pack in the shape of an octopusthat Eliza uses when she gets a bad bump. Nanny X took off her fishing hat, put Mr. Ow on her head and set the fishing hat back in place. Then she opened up her mini computer.
    The screen was blue. The computer made a sound, sort of like
Moo, Sweet Cow
, only it sounded a little more like
Moo
, Sick
Cow
. Nanny X slammed the computer shut again.
    â€œWe’re running out of time,” I said, which didn’t