The Magician's Secret

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The Magician's Secret Page 5

by Carolyn Keene


  “Girls?” My father looked from Bess to George and back again.

  “Hello, Mr. Drew,” Bess said, noticing everyone sitting at the table.

  “Sit down, ladies,” my father told them, indicating two empty chairs. “Judging by your exciting entry, we are all anxious to see what you’ve discovered.”

  Hannah brought them each a plate of lasagna.

  Between happy bites, George said to Bess, “Tell them, cuz. You found it.”

  Bess’s mouth was full. She pointed at George and handed her cousin her purse.

  George pushed the purse back at Bess.

  Before Bess could protest again, I grabbed it. There was a magazine sticking out of the top.

  “Are you talking about this?” I asked, checking out the magazine’s cover.

  “Yes.” Bess put down her fork. “The magazine came in yesterday’s mail, but with the show and everything, I didn’t look until this afternoon.”

  Bess opened to a page near the middle. I leaned in for a closer look. There was a large photo of Gritty Grand standing with her arms around Ayela and Ariana. All three had the same tilted posture, leaning on their left hips. All three had the same dark hair and dark eyes.

  I read the caption: TWINS. We knew that already.

  “Keep going,” Bess encouraged.

  “Daughters!” I leaped up from my chair so fast I nearly knocked Ned’s water glass over.

  “Whoa,” Ned said, grabbing the glass before it spilled. “Why’s this news?”

  I stepped away from the table and began to pace in the space behind John Smallwood’s chair. He was so busy devouring Hannah’s lasagna, he didn’t look back at me.

  “Hang on. . . .” My brain was spinning. “Why is this news?” I murmured to myself. It seemed like such a huge revelation. Hugo had lied to us. But how did it connect? “If Gritty Grand’s nieces are really her daughters, then . . .” I was mumbling.

  “Maybe the jewel heist was a family operation?” Bess asked, forcing me to wonder if I’d spoken my question aloud.

  “Yes. I mean, no. I mean . . .” We hadn’t had any suspects other than John Smallwood and Drake Lonestar up until this point. Could I add Ayela, Ariana, and their mom to the list?

  So Hugo had lied. Was that enough to pursue an investigation of him as well?

  “Gritty, Ayela, Ariana,” I said to Bess. “Can we connect them to the crime?”

  “I’ve got this one,” George chimed in. “The police’s number one suspect, Drake Lonestar, is the twins’ dad.”

  “Seriously? Lonestar?” I asked, stunned. “How do you figure that?”

  “I did a little Internet digging,” George explained, “and apparently it’s true. Plus, it makes sense. When their mom was in financial trouble and the girls needed a job, who better to help out than their dad?”

  “So is Hugo even dating Gritty?” I asked Bess. She flipped through the magazine until she came to a column called “Hot Couples.”

  “No,” Bess told me. “She’s dating Hal Thomas.” I looked down at a picture of the designer with her arms around the newest boy-band heartthrob. “She’s old enough to be his mom.” I grimaced.

  “He’s the same age as the twins,” George agreed.

  Bess fluttered her eyelids dramatically. “True love is beyond age.”

  George punched her in the arm. “You’re ridiculous!”

  Bess laughed. “You’re just jealous. Hoping to snag Hal Thomas for yourself ?”

  George gagged. “As if! He uses too much hair gel. I’ll leave him to Gritty.”

  “There’s one more thing you need to know, Nancy,” Bess said, pointing down at the magazine. “The bankruptcy rumors are true. When she talks about her business issues, Gritty actually mentions Drake Lonestar by name.”

  George went on from there. “She says the exposure from his shows has helped her gain international recognition. Her business isn’t solid yet, but things are better.”

  “Still, she’d like to have more capital. She’s hoping to raise a million dollars. She’s looking for an investor,” Bess said.

  “Or a thief,” George put in.

  “I’m not a thief!” Smallwood roared, leaping up from the table. His small nose twitched, and he was quickly blinking his beady eyes.

  I screamed when I saw that he was brandishing a knife.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Missing Gems

  TURNED OUT JOHN SMALLWOOD WAS heading to the counter to cut himself a second serving of lasagna. Everyone laughed at my stunned reaction—even me—but deep inside, I wondered if he might really be the thief. The one who denies the crime most adamantly is often the one who committed it. I wasn’t ready to cross Smallwood off the suspect list, nor to defend him like my dad and Ned were. I needed more clues and more evidence.

  My adrenaline was pumping as I hustled Bess and George out of the house. We had a stop to make.

  I pulled into the parking lot of the jewelry store just before seven p.m.—a few minutes before closing. George had called ahead to make sure the manager, a woman named Candy Corlean, would be able to stay past closing time if we were late. Candy was tall and so thin and pale that she looked almost ghostly. Her bleached-blond hair was nearly white, and her forehead was taut and wrinkle free.

  “Hi there, I’m Nancy Drew.” I introduced Bess and George too and launched into an explanation about my dad, the court case, and how we were helping. Candy seemed more than willing to share the details of the night the jewels had disappeared.

  The place was dripping with rings, bracelets, necklaces, and even loose stones that had yet to be set. I peeked over my shoulder and saw Bess sigh and smile dreamily. A jewelry store was her happy place. I’m sure she’d have stayed forever if she could.

  Candy led us to the counter that had been robbed. The case was empty.

  “The police assured me we could reopen for business, but they told me not to touch this particular area,” she said, waving her hand over the long glass box that had housed the stolen jewels.

  “The missing stones were loose?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Candy told me. “Stealing a setting would have been far more difficult. We tag all our set jewelry. We don’t want to mar the beauty of a stone with a sticky tag, so we leave those unmarked.” Moving to a different case, she brought out a tray of rings. Bess leaned in, saying, “Ohhhhhh.”

  There were small white tags on each ring. “These tags have sensors embedded in them,” Candy told us. She pointed up to a row of security cameras that were carefully placed all around the ceiling. “The sensors send information to the security system. If someone tried to walk out without paying, alarms would go off and the police would be here in minutes. The tags are very difficult to remove—the sales reps take them off when they polish each piece for a customer.”

  “Can I take a closer look?” George asked.

  Candy handed her a ring. Bess’s fingers twitched as George examined the sensor tag, which also listed the price. She quickly handed the ring back to the shop manager. “Wow, that costs more than a new car. Two cars even.”

  “It’s a—,” Candy started to say.

  “Flawless sapphire,” Bess finished. “Cushion cut and set in platinum.”

  If Bess had asked for a job just then, it would have been hers. The look on Candy’s face told us that she was impressed.

  I hadn’t actually seen the surveillance tapes from the night the store was robbed. I knew only what Ned had told me: John Smallwood was seen wandering around the shop the night the gems disappeared. He was the last customer to leave that night.

  I asked George to pull up a few photos on her smartphone. She quickly found pictures of Drake Lonestar and his daughters from a gossip website.

  I zoomed in on the twins and handed the phone to Candy. “In the days before the robbery, did either of these girls happen to come into the store?”

  She took a long look at the photo. “No.”

  Next I zoomed in on Drake Lonestar’s grin.
“And him? He’s been in town for about a week. Have you seen this man come by?”

  “No,” Candy replied.

  “Are you sure?” I asked lightly, not wanting to imply that I didn’t trust her memory.

  “With all due respect, Ms. Drew, I have been the eyes and ears of this place for twenty years. The security system is really only in use when I am not here. I have personally stopped nearly ninety shoplifters and prevented six burglaries from taking place,” she proudly said. “I am very, very good at my job.” She added in a lower voice, “That’s why this is extra upsetting. Never has anything like this happened under my watch.”

  I asked George to bring up another picture—this one of Hugo from Lonestar’s website. I turned the phone around so that Candy could see it.

  “No,” she said firmly. “I’ve never seen that man.”

  That left John Smallwood. I pressed my lips together, wondering what I was missing.

  “Can I see how the burglar entered the shop?” George asked.

  “That’s the oddest part,” Candy said. “According to the police, none of the doors showed any sign of forced entry. The alarm never went off. Even the security tapes show nothing unusual.” She shrugged. “It’s as if the stones just disappeared—like magic.”

  That’s what I figured.

  Candy went on to tell us that the security equipment was kept in a small room that was always locked; Candy had the only key. While George examined the security system and Bess checked out the cabinet where the gems had been stored, I went outside to make a quick phone call.

  Ned answered on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” he asked. “Should I run to your side? Do you need to be rescued?” I smiled. It did happen occasionally, though I’d rescued Ned about as many times as he’d rescued me.

  “No. Not this time.” I laughed. “No knight in shining armor necessary. But you can help me out with something. Do you know why John Smallwood was in the jewelry shop that day?”

  It had been bothering me for a while. Why would a thief, especially a retired thief, go into a jewelry store? Seems like he was asking for trouble.

  “A date,” Ned said simply.

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “Huh?”

  “Apparently, he met Candy at the River Run Coffee Shop the day before. She didn’t give him a phone number, but she told him where she worked,” Ned explained. “The jewelry store is in the same mini-mall. So he went to the shop at closing time, then hung out to see if she’d have dinner with him.”

  “That’s kind of romantic,” I said.

  Ned gave a small laugh. “But while they were out, the store was robbed, and before the night was over, Mr. Smallwood was arrested.”

  “What a terrible first date,” I remarked.

  “Hopefully, when your dad clears this up, they can try again,” Ned told me.

  “Hopefully,” I echoed, then thanked him and said good-bye.

  Bess was waiting for me. “I just got off the phone with your dad,” she said.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “I wanted to know how many jewels were stolen and their value,” she replied.

  “I think Ned said the jewels were worth millions,” I noted.

  “ ‘Millions’ is too vague when it comes to gems.” Bess snorted. “It’s precisely three and a half million dollars in fifteen stones: six emeralds and nine rubies.”

  “Only fifteen stones?” I was surprised. “Those are some mighty gems.”

  “Big and flawless. Very valuable.” Bess nodded, then said, “I’ve been thinking about how Gritty wants to raise one million dollars for her clothing line. Three point five is way better than just one measly mil.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too.” I took Bess’s arm. “Let’s get George and move—”

  Just then, from the back of the shop, we heard a scream.

  “George!” I cried.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Clue by Clue

  “LOOK AT WHAT I FOUND!” George was standing in the security room doorway, gripping a small box.

  “The gems?” I asked, expelling a sigh of relief that she was okay.

  George snorted. “Better.”

  “Better than the gems?” Bess said, squinting at her cousin. “What could be better?”

  “Videotape!” George cheered.

  “Right,” Bess said. “I think you are sleep deprived.”

  “No, no,” George said. “I mean, yes, I am sleep deprived, but this is our most important clue yet.”

  I was listening.

  “Nancy, there are some gaping holes in my theory here, but try this,” George started. “What if . . .” Her eyes lit up in the darkened room. “What if, after Smallwood left the shop, there was someone else already there? Maybe someone who knew Smallwood, like a partner, or maybe someone else. At this point it doesn’t matter.”

  She shook her head as if to clear it. “Let’s just say, once the shop was officially closed, if a person broke into the security room, they’d have had access to the entire system. The security tapes could have been tampered with, and whoever stole the jewels could have simply played footage from any other night.” She held up the tape box. “The tapes would have shown that all was quiet even though the thief was inside. Then there is just the matter of disabling the alarm and opening the gem case.”

  “Sounds possible,” I said. “I like that idea better than to think the gems magically disappeared.”

  “Me too,” George said adamantly. “There’s always an explanation for everything.” She handed me the tape. “The police missed this one. There’s a backup unit for the security equipment in a cabinet. That machine had been tampered with; it was set to play, not record.”

  Candy let us use the machine, and we quickly discovered that George was right. The tape showed looped footage of a quiet night. She’d found our most important clue so far. Someone had been in the security room when Candy left for her date.

  “I’m not sure how they got in,” George was saying as we walked from the room. “I mean, this door was locked, the front door was locked, the back—”

  “Ewww!” Bess hopped from foot to foot, making gagging sounds. “I stepped in gum! Gross.”

  “Gum?” Candy asked. “There’s no food allowed in this shop. That’s why I go to the coffee shop at ten, noon, and three for all my scheduled breaks. No food. No drinks. And certainly no gum.” She handed Bess a tissue. “Someone will be fired!”

  “It’s a huge wad!” Bess said, peeling it off her shoe. “Blech.”

  “It’s not just gum.” George took the tissue and peered inside. “I mean, it is, but I think it’s also part of the crime.” She paused, staring at the gum. “Maybe the thief planted it here on purpose. Though I don’t think this gum was used in the heist. I checked the doors and there was no sign of anything gummy in the locks.”

  Candy looked crushed. “After all these years, someone slipped by me.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’ll call the police. They should check the locks again and reinterview my employees.”

  “This is a highly professional job,” I told her. “The gum, the videotape, the gems—your employees probably aren’t suspects.”

  As we left, Candy was on the phone arranging for a new security company to come install an upgraded system.

  “Good sleuthing!” I congratulated my friends. “We are definitely getting somewhere!”

  “Right,” Bess said with a sigh. “All we have left to do is to figure out is who did it, why, and where they put the jewels.”

  “No problem,” I said with a laugh. “I’m hoping we’ll find out more at our next stop.”

  It was a little after ten p.m. when I pulled into the Riverview parking lot. At night the place looked even more shabby and run-down than it had in the daylight. I hoped the twins were awake. We needed to talk to them.

  “You’d think if the girls stole the gems they’d have at least kept some of the money for a hotel upgrade,�
� Bess said, wrinkling her nose.

  “I don’t think the gems have been sold yet,” George said. “Whoever took them needs to get far away from here first.”

  “But even if the twins do have the gems, they might be stuck in this motel anyway. Hugo told me that these performances are expensive to run.” I held the door for my friends. “I guess that’s why the staff stays at the cheap places while the magician goes to stay at the fancy resort.”

  “Even if he was escaping from a crazy stalker-fan, the twins might resent their dad for leaving them here,” George said. “I know I would.”

  “If they are angry, no one’s said anything.” I recalled all the conversations I’d had with Ayela and Ariana. They’d never even let on that Lonestar was their dad—certainly not that he’d moved on to better digs and stuck them with Hugo.

  The hotel lobby was quiet. The only sign of life was a desk clerk at the counter. The young woman looked bored, like she wished she was anywhere else. Her long brown hair hung over one charcoaled eye.

  When we approached the desk, she looked up and pinned that one eye on me. “Can I help you?”

  Bess moved in and flashed a smile. “We’re looking for Drake Lonestar’s two assistants. Could you tell us what room they’re in?”

  The woman picked up a pen and twirled it. “I’m not supposed to give out information on our guests.”

  It might have been the first time in Bess’s life that her oozing charm didn’t work.

  George gave her a small, sympathetic smile.

  Undeterred, Bess tried again. “But we know Ayela and Ariana. We were supposed to meet them”—she stopped to check her watch—“twenty minutes ago.” Bess threw George a dirty look over her shoulder, as if it was George’s fault we had only arrived now.

  “Please,” Bess said in the sweetest voice I’d ever heard.

  “Oh, um . . .” The clerk paused and twirled her pen some more. “Whatever.” She scribbled the number on a slip of paper. “Go ahead. Let them fire me. I hate this job.”

 

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