The Real Macaw: A Meg Langslow Mystery

solferino, amaranthine, amethyst, fuschia, eggplant, and aubergine. And while other decorators usually carried swatches, Mother always relied on her color memory, which was the chromatic equivalent of a musician’s perfect pitch.
    So if Mother said that the turquoise macaw had been Prussian blue yesterday, she undoubtedly knew what she was talking about.
    But what had happened to the other macaw?
    “The break-in,” I said aloud. “That’s what they were after. The other macaw.”
    “Why would anyone want to steal a macaw?” Mother asked. “Particularly that rather unattractive one you had here yesterday?”
    “Beats me,” I said. “I’m with you—I like this new macaw much better. But so far, the other macaw is the only thing missing. Unless you count Rob’s video camera, and I really don’t think the intruder took it.”
    “What about the vase your aunt Penelope gave you as a wedding present?”
    “It’s not missing,” I said. “The intruder broke it.”
    Mother winced.
    “Oh, dear,” she said. “She’s sure to notice it’s missing.”
    “I’ll tell her I lent it to you.”
    Mother winced again.
    “She’ll never believe that,” she said. “Penelope will know I think that vase is hideous.”
    “Then help me find a solution to the broken vase that doesn’t involve buying a replacement,” I said. “Because I thought it was hideous, too, and I’m sure it’s also hideously expensive, and I’d like to avoid spending a vast sum of money replacing something I didn’t want in the first place.”
    “Don’t even think of replacing it,” Mother said. “If Penelope ever notices, I think you should just say that you’ve started putting the breakables away in the attic so they’ll be safe when the boys start walking.”
    I opened my eyes and stared at her in amazement.
    “That’s perfect,” I said. “I mean, in a couple of months, it will be true. In fact, we’ve already started putting all the breakables up high so the boys can crawl here.”
    “And you may as well start childproofing now,” she said. “Put a few more breakable things aside to make it look plausible. They’ll be crawling any day now. You’d be amazed how it creeps up on you.”
    I could tell from the faint wistfulness in her tone that she was still remembering the memorable day that Rob took his first tottering steps and made a beeline for a wobbly table holding a rare piece of Art Nouveau glass.
    “Yes,” she said. “We’ll start childproofing this room tomorrow. Or perhaps later today. I must run. A lot more plants to rescue! By the way, there are a few plants down at the town hall that are too much for the ladies to manage. Could you possibly drop by and help us with them?”
    “Glad to,” I said. It would make a break from packing books.
    “Thank you, dear.” She waved cheerfully and sailed away.
    After waving back, I returned to pondering the mystery of the missing macaw. Much more interesting than the missing vase, not to mention potentially more important. Maybe Grandfather hadn’t been the intruder’s target after all. Maybe he’d only been collateral damage in the intruder’s quest to steal Parker’s macaw.
    Which didn’t make the intruder any less dangerous.
    I followed Mother out to the foyer.
    “Don’t tell anyone about the macaw swapping,” I said. “It could help us catch whoever did it if they don’t know we know.”
    “Of course not, dear.” She was arranging her lavender garden club hat at just the right angle in the mirror on our hall coat stand, completely ignoring two kittens who were playing tag on the stand, knocking things off its shelves and doing who knows how much damage to the coats with their tiny little razor claws.
    I fetched a box and retrieved the kittens from their playground. Out to the barn with them. As it happened, I was going that way anyway. I needed information about the macaw. And with any luck, there should be at least one animal expert still hanging around the barn.

Chapter 19
    I found Clarence out tending the animals. He seemed to have relocated his veterinary practice to our barn. A card table with a clean sheet over it stood ready for any patients who needed examining, and just inside the door, he’d set up half a dozen of the wooden folding chairs we used for parties. No one was waiting on them, fortunately. Clarence was just saying good-bye to an elderly man with a rather stout bulldog in tow. I waited until the two had waddled out the