Russian, and Chinese, at the school. He was nicknamed “Le Pric.”
“And Jolly Chollie Chakely,” Michael Goldberg finished for her. “Secret Service Detail Nineteen. Lincoln town car. License number SC-59. North exit, Pelham Hall. They’re assigned to moi because the Colombian cartel has made death threats against my father. Au revoir, mon professeur.”
It was noted in the school log for December 21. M. Goldberg and M.R. Dunne—Secret Service pickup. North exit, Pelham, at three.
“C’mon, Dweebo Dido.” Michael Goldberg poked Maggie Rose sharply in her rib cage. “I got a fast car. Uh huh, uh huh. And I got a plan to get us out of here.”
No wonder she liked him, Maggie thought. Who else would call her a dweebo? Who else but Shrimpie Goldberg?
As they walked out of the assembly hall, the two friends were being watched. Neither of them noticed anything wrong, anything out of the ordinary. They weren’t supposed to. That was the whole idea. It was the master plan.
CHAPTER 4
AT NINE O’CLOCK that morning, Ms. Vivian Kimdecided to re-create Watergate in her Washington Day School classroom. She would never forget it. Vivian Kim was smart, pretty, and a stimulating American history teacher. Her class was one of the students’ favorites. Twice a week Ms. Kim acted out a history skit. Sometimes she let the children prepare one. They got to be really good at it, and she could honestly say her class was never boring.
On this particular morning, Vivian Kim had chosen Watergate. In her third-grade class were Maggie Rose Dunne and Michael Goldberg. The classroom was being watched.
Vivian Kim alternately played General Haig, H. R. Haldeman, Henry Kissinger, G. Gordon Liddy, President Nixon, John and Martha Mitchell, and John and Maureen Dean. She was a good mimic and did an excellent job on Liddy, Nixon, General Haig, and especially the Mitchells and Mo Dean.
“During his annual State of the Union message, President Nixon spoke to the entire nation on television,” Ms. Kim told the children. “Many people feel that he lied to us. When a high government official lies, he commits a horrible crime. We’ve put our trust in that person, based on his solemn word, his integrity.”
“Hiss.” “Boo!” A couple of kids in class participated in the lesson. Within reason, Vivian Kim encouraged this kind of involvement.
“Boo is absolutely right,” she said. “Hiss, too. Anyway, at this moment in our history, Mr. Nixon stood before the nation, before people like you and me.” Vivian Kim arranged herself as if she were at a speaking podium. She began to do her version of Richard Nixon for the class.
Ms. Kim made her face dark and gloomy. She shook her head from side to side. “I want you to know… that I have no intention whatever of ever walking away from the job that the American people elected me to do for the people of the United States.” Vivian Kim paused on the actual words from Nixon’s infamous speech. It was like a held note in a bad but powerful opera.
The classroom of twenty-four children was silent. For the moment, she had completely won their attention. It was a teacher’s nirvana, however short-lived. Nice, Vivian Kim thought to herself.
There was a brittle tap, tap, tap on the glass pane of the classroom door. The magical mood was broken.
“Boo! Hiss,” Vivian Kim muttered. “Yes? Who’s there? Hello? Who is it?” she called.
The glass and polished mahogany door slowly opened. One of the kids hummed from the score of Nightmare on Elm Street. Mr. Soneji, hesitantly, almost shyly, stepped inside. Nearly every child’s face in the classroom brightened instantly.
“Anybody home?” Mr. Soneji piped in a thin squeaky voice. The children erupted with laughter. “Ohhh! Look. Everybody’s home,” he said.
Gary Soneji taught mathematics, and also computer science—which was even more popular than Vivian Kim’s class. He was balding, with a droopy mustache, and English schoolboy glasses. He didn’t look like a matinee idol, but he was one at the school. In addition to being an inspired teacher, Mr. Soneji was the grand master of Nintendo video games.
His popularity, and the fact that he was a computer wizard, had earned him the nickname “Mr. Chips.”
Mr. Soneji greeted a couple of the students by name as he quickly made his way to Ms. Kim’s desk.
The two teachers then spoke privately at the front desk. Ms. Kim had her back to the class. She was nodding a lot, not saying much. She seemed tiny standing next to Mr. Soneji, who was over six feet tall.
Finally,