The Magician's Secret

by Carolyn Keene

  As we walked away, Bess grinned at George and said, “The Marvin charm hasn’t failed me yet.”

  George rolled her eyes.

  After a quick elevator ride, we were standing in front of room 406. The TV was on inside. I knocked on the hotel room door.

  Ayela opened it. “Hey!” She was super cheery as she let us inside. “Welcome!”

  The room was tiny. Two beds and a roll-away sleeper were stuffed wall to wall. In fact, so much furniture had been crammed into the small space that there was nowhere to stand. I peeked into the tiny bathroom; the fact that an architect had managed to fit a shower, toilet, and sink in there might have been the most impressive magic trick of the past week.

  Deep-red wallpaper, stained with age and peeling from decay, made the room so dark I had to squint to see Ariana sitting on the bed, next to her dad.

  Drake Lonestar.

  “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he said.

  I didn’t mean to be rude by not replying, but my tongue was tied. Above Drake’s head, above where the roll-away sleeper was squashed up against the wall, there were holes. Lots and lots of little holes.

  “Darts!” I practically shouted the word, scanning the floor. “Aha!” I found one halfway behind the nightstand. I grabbed it and held it up like a trophy. This was a big clue.

  George pointed at Lonestar. “So you were already in River Heights when you decided to come to River Heights!”

  “George, are you saying that the video of Lonestar throwing darts at a map is fake?” Bess asked.

  “The video was planned and carefully edited,” George said, not moving her eyes from Lonestar’s face. “I should have realized! From what I’ve read, videos are often used in illusion magic because they are so easy to manipulate. That means that if they’re done right, they seem live. Drake knew he was coming to River Heights.”

  “Don’t look at me with those disappointed eyes. Your courthouse was perfect for what I wanted to do,” Lonestar told George.

  “But it was a bold lie,” George accused. “You made a video about how you ‘chose’ River Heights with a single dart throw.” She glanced at the pockmarked wall. “Apparently, it took more than one toss.”

  Lonestar laughed. “Hugo is a terrific filmmaker. The darts took a lot of practice for me, but the video was done in a single recording.”

  He asked me to grab a deck of cards from the nightstand. “Once I could pin the map, I moved on to other tricks. Check this one out.” He took the cards, shuffled them, and fanned them in front of me. “Pick a card. Don’t show me which one.” Drake rose from the bed and handed me a pen. “Write your name on it.”

  I took the ace of spades and wrote NANCY in bold letters across the top.

  He opened the deck to a random spot. “Put in the card.” I did, and he shuffled the deck. Then he told me to shuffle. I ran the cards through my fingers several times and handed the deck back to him.

  “I’m going to throw a dart at the wall three times,” Drake told me, taking the dart I’d picked up off the floor. “Two for practice, and on the third, I’ll toss up the deck.” The first shot landed in the wall, knocking down bits of dry plaster as it stuck. He took back the dart and did the same thing.

  With the third throw, Drake Lonestar tossed up the deck of cards. They fluttered through the air as the dart soared from his fingertips to the wall.

  “Take a look,” he told me.

  The dart was stuck in the wall. There was a single playing card pinned there, speared through the point. I peeled it off the wall. “It’s mine,” I said, showing Bess and George the ace of spades with my name written on it.

  “Nicely done,” George told Drake.

  He said, “We wanted to come to River Heights, but we had to make it look coincidental. Besides”—he removed the dart and put away the cards—“magic is always a kind of lying. Like those flowers I made appear out of thin air; you know they didn’t just come from nothing. I say the courthouse ‘disappeared,’ but you know it really didn’t.” He paused and turned to face me. “Have you figured out how I did that one yet, Nancy?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’ve been trying to take your advice and not overthink the magic.”

  “Perfect!” He sat down and leaned back against a pillow. “That means you accepted the lie.”

  “I suppose I did.” I glanced at Bess and George. “On some level, we all did.”

  “Good,” Lonestar said. “If people didn’t completely suspend their logical reasoning, I wouldn’t have a job.”

  I nodded. He was right. I supposed it didn’t make a difference how he’d decided to come to our town, except for one thing: Everyone already knew that Drake Lonestar was around the night the gems were stolen from the jewelry shop, but now it wasn’t a coincidence that he’d been in River Heights. He had actually planned to be here. That made it even more suspicious. He’d had plenty of time to plan a show as well as a heist.

  As hard as I was trying to put other suspects on my list, Drake kept making it impossible. Every clue kept coming back to him. Even Hugo couldn’t protect Drake from the evidence mounting against him.

  “Where’s Hugo?” I asked Lonestar. My dad said that Lonestar had been released into Hugo’s custody. Shouldn’t the bodyguard have been around?

  “He went to the resort,” Drake said. “I left all my gear in my room, but I can’t go back, not even to help him. The press is camped out there.”

  I nodded. Smallwood was at my house for the same reason.

  He waved his hand at the roll-away and groaned. “I’m bunking with the girls until this legal mess is resolved.”

  “Why didn’t the media follow you here?” I asked him.

  Lonestar grinned. “Hugo spread a rumor that I was planning to go to the resort later tonight.”

  “Another lie?” I couldn’t help myself; it just burst out.

  “I suppose,” Drake Lonestar said. “This time, a small white one for protection. It’s the same reason Hugo lied about Ayela and Ariana being Gritty Grand’s nieces instead of her daughters. And why he’s been telling the press that he’s dating Gritty.”

  He went on, “I work hard to distance myself from anyone who might use my family to get close to me. Hired employees, even if they are related to a top designer, are definitely less interesting than a magician’s daughters. The idea of Hugo and Gritty dating is less scandalous than her being my ex. All of these are red herrings meant to throw the paparazzi off my trail.”

  “The Internet is a mix of truth and lies,” George said. “If someone really wanted to find out about you, it wouldn’t be so hard.”

  “We throw a lot of misinformation out there to cover the facts. If a fan or the press wants to know details, we have to at least make them work for them. That’s what Hugo says, and I trust him completely. He’s a great bodyguard and manager.”

  While George and I had been talking to Lonestar, the twins had been giving Bess a preview of Gritty’s new collection—previously unseen pieces that would appear in upcoming fashion shows. I knew that Bess was probably thrilled to see the clothing, but she was also deciding whether the twins might be our thieves.

  That had been the real goal of this visit. Discovering the darts had been a bonus.

  When she joined George and me, she shook her head. I got the message: She wasn’t sure.

  Bess whispered to us. “I tried to get them to talk about accessories, like jewelry, but they aren’t interested. They wanted to talk about leggings and tunics and the staples of a wardrobe.” She shrugged. “Even when I tried to bring up their mom’s money issues, they wouldn’t go there.” Bess lowered her voice even further and said, “I frankly don’t think either of them are sharp enough to pull off this kind of crime.” She quickly added, “The only suspicious thing I noticed was that they both like chewing gum.”

  That was something. I wondered if it was the same kind of gum Bess had stepped in at the jewelry store.

  “But what about the mag
ic?” George asked. “They know how Drake does his illusions. So much of this theft seems similar to magic tricks. Do you think they can do any tricks of their own?”

  “Well,” Bess replied, “Ariana can remove her socks without taking off her shoes.”

  I laughed a bit too loudly.

  “What’s so funny?” Drake asked.

  “Nothing,” I hedged. “It’s late. We need to go.”

  After we said our good-byes, I made a plan for the next hour. I’d drop off Bess and George, and then jot down some notes on what we’d discovered. We’d made good progress, but I wasn’t sure what it all meant. I needed to think. I also needed to sleep.

  Bess opened the door to Lonestar’s hotel room. We were stunned to find the hallway crowded with police and journalists.

  Officer Fernandez pushed past me. She announced, “Mr. Lonestar, you need to come with me. We found the missing box in your hotel room.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Inside the Box

  WITH THIS DEVELOPMENT, I WAS certain we’d be up all night again, but luckily, Bess, George, and I were able to catch a few hours of sleep before heading to the courthouse. When I spoke to Ned shortly after the police showed up, he assured me there was no reason to hurry. The paperwork would take a while, and then the lawyers had to get there. That would take time too.

  When I did arrive at the courthouse, well rested, I realized that I had forgotten to charge my phone. I turned down the screen’s brightness and muted the sound and did everything else I could think of to save power. I was waiting for a call from Ned or my dad—one I couldn’t risk missing.

  Because the box surfacing impacted John Smallwood, my dad and Ned were inside the courthouse waiting to be briefed. Until every shadow about Smallwood and Lonestar was brought to light, Dad’s client wouldn’t be let off the hook.

  Lonestar had refused an attorney the day before, but this was more serious. Now he had brought in his own lawyer. And it was none other than River Heights’ own Madeline Summers.

  Madeline was a tough nut who had worked with my dad on many cases. Though I wasn’t sure how Lonestar had found her, I had no doubt she’d give her all to Drake. The one thing about Madeline was that she worked alone. That meant she didn’t want to hear from any outside detectives—namely me. In the past, she’d made it crystal clear that I was to stay away from her clients. I was certain this would be no different. But just because Madeline Summers didn’t want me around didn’t mean I would back down from my personal investigation.

  My phone rang.

  “Ned?” I shouted as I stabbed the talk button. “What’s going on?”

  “The police found the missing box in Lonestar’s hotel room at the Towering Heights Resort,” he said.

  “Oh.” I’d assumed that was what happened. “And the gems?”

  “The box is still sealed. The locksmith is on his way.”

  My shoulders dropped. This was the most exciting part of the investigation, and Madeline Summers would surely try to keep me out of the judge’s chambers. I’d be lucky if my dad and Ned were allowed in, since they weren’t Lonestar’s attorneys.

  “The locksmith needs an escort into the building,” Ned told me. “Three escorts, actually. There are passes at the security desk for you, Bess, and George.”

  I was shocked. “I can’t believe Mrs. Summers would agree to let me anywhere near her client. How’d you do it?”

  “Do you believe in magic?” Ned asked. His voice had a light chuckle to it.

  “That’s the question of the moment, isn’t it?” Even though he couldn’t see me through the phone, I smiled.

  “Come straight to the judge’s chambers,” Ned said, then hung up.

  The locksmith’s van was already pulling into the parking lot. We ran to meet the elderly man. He was wearing a suit that was frayed with age, but he had close-cut hair and a clean-shaven face. The sign on his truck read GALLOWAY GETS IT DONE.

  “You’ll need a 505 wrench with a needle-nose tip for this one,” George told Mr. Galloway before we’d actually introduced ourselves.

  “Really?” he looked at her with a shocked expression. “You’ve seen this mystery box?”

  “No,” George admitted. “I’m just saying that’s what I’d take if I were you.”

  “All righty then.” He just shook his head as he grabbed that wrench plus a few others.

  “We’re here to show you the way,” I said.

  “Lead on,” Mr. Galloway replied.

  Judge Nguyen’s chamber was packed. In one corner there was the magician and his lawyer. In the other were my dad and Ned. Ned tipped his head to me when I entered with George, Mr. Galloway, and Bess.

  Judge Nguyen sat in her oversize leather chair, gazing at us all, with the mystery box on her desk.

  The box was made of the most beautiful polished wood I’d ever seen: red mahogany with thin ribbons of a lighter blond oak. Engraved into the sides and top were ornate swirls and designs that looked as if they came from India, with interlocking loops and flares. The depth of the carvings made the wood shine and shimmer, giving the effect that the wood itself was flowing like a river.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off those carvings. The mysterious box held me in a spell.

  Judge Nguyen stood and said, “This box was originally found among John Smallwood’s things at the Towering Heights Resort. He has sworn all along that the box does not belong to him and that he does not know how it came to be in his room.”

  She looked at my dad and continued, “Because Mr. Drew and Ned Nickerson are Smallwood’s legal team, I feel that it is important for them to be here at the opening. If jewels are inside, Mr. Smallwood will be immediately arrested, pending a full investigation.” She looked at a notepad on the side of her desk. “I presume he is standing by at your house, Mr. Drew?”

  My dad nodded.

  I threw my dad a smile. Smallwood and Hannah were probably sitting at the table, enjoying leftover lasagna.

  The judge glanced at the locksmith, who was clearly ready to get to work. She reviewed pertinent facts. “The box was collected at the hotel and moved to an evidence locker in the courthouse for safekeeping until it could be opened. Sometime during Mr. Lonestar’s magic act on Saturday, the box disappeared from the evidence locker. It has been missing until today.”

  “Just because it reappeared in my client’s hotel room does not mean that the box or its contents belong to Mr. Lonestar,” Madeline Summers put in.

  “True,” the judge said. She turned to me. “Nancy Drew, you were at the magic show the day the box disappeared. I’ve been told that you and your friends have some information to share.”

  I glanced at Ned. So that was how he gotten us in; he’d promised that I’d reveal what we’d discovered.

  I bit my tongue. I wasn’t ready for this. I hadn’t solved the mystery yet. But if I declined to comment, I’d be kicked out of the room and miss the box opening.

  I sighed. “Everything we’ve discovered points to Drake Lonestar as the gem thief,” I said.

  “Objection!” Mrs. Summers stomped to the center of the room. “Miss Drew cannot make accusatory statements like that! She has no proof that my client is the thief.”

  I directed my gaze at the judge and said, “I’m not saying he did it, Your Honor. I’m saying that everything is pointing to the likelihood that he took the gems.”

  “Go on, Miss Drew,” the judge told me.

  “Drake Lonestar was in town several days before the burglary. He knew his courthouse trick would be performed here in River Heights. His personal timeline fits the timeline of the crime, and his arrival wasn’t a coincidence, like he’d led us all to believe.” I looked back over my shoulder at Lonestar, who radiated a cool calmness.

  “The lies keep piling up from there. His bodyguard, Hugo, told everyone that he was dating Lonestar’s ex-wife, Gritty Grand. Hugo has no such relationship with Ms. Grand. Lonestar came to town with his daughters, claiming they were Gritty’s nieces.<
br />
  “Although there’s no proof he has ever met John Smallwood, Lonestar moved from the Riverview Hotel to the Towering Heights Resort and was placed in the room across the hall from the suspected thief.” I had one last thing to say. “The break-in at the jewelry shop showed some classic hallmarks of a magic act.” I explained about the video loop and the gum on the floor. “Magic is about illusion. Often elements are set up in advance of the actual trick.” I looked directly at Drake. “Right, Mr. Lonestar?”

  “Enough!” Madeline Summers roared. She turned to her client. “Don’t answer that.”

  Drake Lonestar settled his eyes on mine. I felt a chill go up my spine as he glared at me.

  Judge Nguyen cleared her throat, demanding the attention of everyone in the room. “It does seem, for now, that the evidence points to the magician as the gem thief.” She told Officer Collins, who’d been standing near the door, “Take the handcuffs off Mr. Lonestar. He’s not going anywhere.” Then she pointed at her desk. “Let’s open this box and see where this case goes next.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Unlocking the Magic

  I WANTED TO STAND NEXT to Mr. Galloway, the locksmith, but the judge asked us all to keep back. Mr. Galloway turned the box over on the desk and raised a pair of pliers. Frowning, he rotated the box to one side, then the other.

  “There’s no latch,” he said, with a confused, blank expression. “No seams or obvious entry point.”

  Mr. Galloway raised the box and looked like he was about to shake it.

  “No!” Bess shrieked.

  “What is your objection?” the judge asked Bess.

  “Oh, please tell me the police never shook that box,” Bess muttered as she stepped up beside the locksmith.

  “I don’t know whether they did,” the judge replied. “Why?”

  Bess explained, “The gems that are missing are very delicate rubies and emeralds. If they are inside and knocked together, it’s likely they might get scratched. Or worse”—her eyes went wide with horror—“they might chip! The value of those stones is based on their condition.”