The Thirteenth Pearl

by Carolyn Keene

  called up the directory. “Oh, my goodness,” Nancy

  said, shocked. “These are all Blaine Warner's files.”

  “She must be the one who attacked you!” Bess cried.

  13. Late-Night Stakeout

  Nancy stared at the screen. “It's certainly a possibility

  that Blaine was the attacker,” Nancy said. “I'm sure

  she'd be strong enough, and she's a bit taller than I am,

  too. But what's worse is these files are all about that

  new Harris case that Blaine and my dad are working

  on. Why was she carrying around a disk like that?”

  “Maybe she was taking it home to work on. Do you

  think we should we give it back to her?” Bess asked,

  suddenly concerned. “What if Henry or Byron stole the

  disk from Blaine, and it fell out when one of them

  attacked you? Maybe Byron borrowed it and dropped

  it on his way to the Cyber Space. What if Blaine needs

  this disk to work on your father's case?”

  “I'm sure she has the information stored on her hard

  drive as well,” Nancy said. “Let's not tell anyone and

  see what happens.”

  “Okay, Nan,” Bess said, exiting the directory and

  removing the disk, which Nancy slipped into her

  portfolio.

  “Listen,” Nancy continued softly, “I have an idea.

  Why don't you go ask Ms. Hanson if there's anything

  else you can do to help out around the office?”

  “Sure,” Bess said. “That way I can pop in and out of

  a few offices and snoop around a little.” Bess stood up

  and walked out to the reception area, leaving the door

  to the library open. Nancy could hear Bess and Ms.

  Hanson's conversation.

  “Hi, Ms. Hanson,” Bess said. “Nancy suggested I ask

  if I can help out with anything else around the office—

  run errands, make phone calls, whatever you need.”

  Ms. Hanson smiled at her. “Why not?” she replied.

  “Here are some memos you can distribute to all the

  offices. And then maybe you can do a coffee run. I'd

  like a cheese Danish and a coffee with two sugars.”

  Nancy kept working in the library until Bess

  reappeared a few minutes later with a copy of the

  memo.

  “Nancy, you'll never believe what happened,” Bess

  said. “I walked into Blaine's office to give her a copy of

  the memo, and she was whispering into the phone,

  something about erasing a file. I'll bet she tried to wipe

  out that E-mail log. And when she realized I was in

  there, she yelled at me to get out.”

  Before Nancy could ask her any questions, the girls

  heard a phone slam down across the hall, and Blaine

  burst in through the door to the law library. Ignoring

  Nancy and Bess, she started searching through the

  papers and disks on the table and shelves. She bent

  over to peer in the disk drives at each computer

  station.

  “I just got back from court, and I discovered I'm

  missing a very important disk,” Blaine stormed. She

  looked closely at Nancy and then at Bess. “Are you sure

  you didn't get it mixed up with those disks you've been

  copying?”

  “No, Blaine,” Nancy said carefully. “I'm sure I didn't

  get it mixed up with any of my disks.”

  “I was working late in the library last night, and I'm

  sure I left it in here. Unless Byron or Henry picked it

  up. Henry's always sticking his nose where it doesn't

  belong. And Byron's always snatching up disks and

  papers and stuffing them in his law books or his

  pockets. I'll bet one of them has it!” she huffed.

  “Neither of them has been in here this morning.

  Didn't you say you were working late last night?”

  Nancy asked Blaine. “When would Byron or Henry

  have picked up your disk, if you were the last one in

  here?”

  Blaine shot Nancy a hostile glance, then said,

  “Maybe they took it during the day, and I didn't notice.

  They might even have taken it out of my office. No one

  ever knocks around here,” she concluded, glaring at

  Bess as she stamped out of the library.

  “Whew!” Bess exhaled. “And I thought she was

  upset before when I barged into her office.”

  “Well,” Nancy said, her mind racing, “we know

  Byron couldn't have taken the disk last night, because

  he was at Art-Dot-Café—and the Cyber Space—at the

  same times we were.”

  “But it could have been Henry,” Bess said. “Or

  maybe it was Byron, and he'd already passed the disk

  on to his partner in crime at Williams and Brown—and

  the accomplice is the one who attacked you and

  dropped the disk Byron had given him.”

  “I guess that's a possibility, too,” Nancy replied. “But

  what's most likely is that Blaine was taking the disk

  home, and that she lied about working late last night.

  She probably realized that she must have dropped the

  disk when she attacked me. . . .”

  “And now she's trying to cover it up, by trying to

  blame Byron or Henry,” Bess concluded excitedly.

  The girls quickly dropped their discussion as the

  library door opened, and Nancy's father walked in. “Hi,

  Bess; hi, Nancy,” he said. “Sorry I missed you this

  morning. You two doing okay with that file copying?”

  “Fine,” Nancy said. “Bess has been helping Ms.

  Hanson distribute memos.” Suddenly Nancy's com-

  puter made a ping sound, and she glanced at the

  screen. “Who's sending me E-mail?” she wondered

  aloud, and pressed a button to retrieve her mail.

  There was a new message: “I'm in. Come hear me

  read—live and in person—tomorrow night at the

  Cyber Space. Please invite Bess.—Byron Thomas”

  “Wow, I guess they liked his stuff,” Bess said,

  reading over Nancy's shoulder.

  “What's that?” Mr. Drew asked.

  “Oh, we ran into Byron last night at a computer

  coffee bar in the warehouse district,” Nancy explained

  to her father. “He wanted to arrange a poetry reading

  there, and I told him to E-mail me an invitation if he

  got the gig.”

  “I wonder where he's E-mailing you from,” Bess

  said.

  “He's probably on-line on the computers at the

  courthouse,” Nancy's father answered her. “Blaine has

  him working down there today.”

  “So, what's up, Dad?” Nancy asked. “The last few

  days you've been too busy to stop in and say hello.”

  “I've got some more papers that have to go over to

  Williams and Brown,” he replied. “I hate to pull you off

  your computer work again, but I figure with Bess

  helping out . . .”

  “I'll go, Mr. Drew,” Bess offered. “I was going on a

  coffee run anyway. I'll go to Williams and Brown first,

  and then pick up the food on my way back.”

  “Thanks, Bess,” he said as he left the library. “And

  by the way, I take my coffee black, and I'd love a

  croissant.”

  Once he was gone, Nancy turned to her friend.


  “Listen, Bess, let's hide out in the office tonight and

  see if we can catch Blaine—or one of the others—

  stealing computer disks or sending out E-mail.”

  Bess grimaced. “Hey, I missed my on-line group last

  night, Nance. You want me to miss it again?”

  “I really need you here,” Nancy said. “The solution is

  right around the corner.”

  “No,” Henry said, appearing in the doorway to the

  library. “I'm right around the corner. What are you two

  up to?” he asked.

  “Nothing, Henry,” Bess replied. “I was just going to

  deliver some papers for Mr. Drew and go on a coffee

  run for the office. Can I bring you something?”

  “Hot tea and a scone, if you please, madame,” he

  replied with his broad grin.

  When Bess returned from Williams & Brown, she

  walked back into the library and gave Nancy her cup of

  tea and bagel. “I didn't turn up any new clues,” Bess

  said. “How about you?” Nancy shook her head, and the

  two girls spent the rest of the day working quietly in

  the library.

  A little after six o'clock, they gathered up their

  things, shut off the computers, and walked out to the

  reception area.

  “Good night, Ms. Hanson,” Bess said.

  “Good night, Bess, Nancy,” Ms. Hanson said. “I'll be

  leaving in a few minutes. You girls aren't working late

  tonight?”

  “No, we had enough for one day,” Nancy said,

  laughing.

  “Me, too,” Ms. Hanson said. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Instead of getting on the elevator, the two girls went

  to the ladies' room at the end of the public hall. They

  saw Ms. Hanson turn out the lights in the reception

  area, set the automatic locks by the double glass doors,

  and get into the elevator. Once the doors had slid shut

  behind Ms. Hanson, Nancy entered the door-lock

  code, and the two girls sneaked quietly back into the

  office.

  “Shh . . . I think I hear someone in the hallway,”

  Nancy whispered. “Get in here.” She pulled Bess into a

  small closet off the reception area.

  “What is this?” Bess whispered.

  “It's a utility closet,” Nancy replied. “The fuse box,

  electrical panel, phone switches, and computer cables

  are all in here. I didn't want to go in the coat closet,”

  she explained, “in case someone was leaving and

  wanted to get a coat.”

  Through the crack at the edge of the door, Nancy

  could see her father press a button next to the doors

  and wait a few seconds while the automatic lock

  disengaged. Then he exited the reception area doors to

  the elevator lobby.

  “That was too close,” Nancy said. “Let's take off our

  shoes, so when we go out we'll be really quiet.”

  Once Mr. Drew was gone, the two girls emerged

  from their hiding place and tiptoed up the hall toward

  the library in their stocking feet. They could see Blaine

  working at her desk by the light of a small desk lamp.

  The girls slipped into the dark silence of the law

  library. They hid underneath the long oak table

  housing the computer stations, concealed at the far end

  by the metal filing cabinets.

  “Now what?” Bess whispered.

  “Now we wait,” Nancy whispered back.

  They had a long wait. After nearly two hours, they

  heard the metallic click of the outer door.

  “That must be Blaine leaving,” Bess whispered. “I

  guess she's not doing anything tonight. Can we go

  now?”

  “Shh,” Nancy said. “That wasn't Blaine leaving. That

  was someone coming in!”

  The door to the library opened softly, and a figure

  slipped into the darkened room. The girls saw Byron

  click on a small desk lamp, and power up one of the

  computers. He looked around nervously, slipped a disk

  out of his pocket and into the disk drive, and tapped

  away at the keyboard. The girls heard the telltale whine

  of a computer modem dialing out.

  Then the overhead fluorescent lights came on.

  Byron jumped out of his chair and turned off the

  computer.

  “Byron,” the two girls heard Blaine angrily say.

  “When did you come in? I've told you not to sneak

  around here at night and use our Internet link. What

  are you up to, anyway?”

  “N-nothing, Ms. Warner,” Byron said. “I just came

  back to enter these, um, notes. I didn't mean to startle

  you. I'm s-sorry.”

  “I'm leaving for the night,” she said brusquely. “Did

  you check to make sure you didn't pick up my disk last

  night?”

  “I left before you last night,” Byron replied simply,

  “and I've been at the courthouse all day.” He turned

  off the desk lamp and started for the door.

  “I'm going to the ladies' room, and then I'm

  leaving,” Blaine called out as she turned off the light

  and moved up the hallway. “I'll lock up when I'm

  done.” The girls stayed hidden until they heard the

  outer door lock click shut.

  “Great,” Bess said. She wriggled out of her hiding

  place. “Everyone's gone home for the night. Our

  stakeout's a bust, and I can get home in time for my

  chat group.”

  “Wait a minute,” Nancy whispered urgently. She

  reached out to grab Bess by the arm. “What about

  Henry?”

  “Exactly.” A deep male voice came from the

  darkened hallway. “What about Henry?”

  Bess gave a little cry of surprise as the lights came

  on once again to reveal Henry standing in the doorway

  to the library.

  “Henry!” Bess cried. “What are you doing here?”

  “I might ask the same of you, but I already know the

  answer,” he replied smugly. “You're here to help Nancy

  catch whoever sent that E-mail on those settled cases.

  But you're too late. I, Henry the Great, have figured it

  out,” he whispered. “The E-mail mystery is solved, and

  the culprit is . . . Ms. Marian Hanson!”

  14. The E-mail Trail

  “What?” Nancy cried. “Ms. Hanson would never do

  anything to hurt my father, or help another firm—

  especially not Williams and Brown.”

  “Well, look at this,” Henry said, waving a piece of

  paper at them. It was a printout of the E-mail log file

  that Nancy had discovered. “Her log-on is all over this

  E-mail that was sent to Williams and Brown on the

  same day the cases came into our office,” Henry said

  triumphantly.

  “Hold on just a minute, smart guy,” Bess said.

  “That's the first thing I noticed, too. But you can

  pretend to be anyone you want in cyberspace,

  remember? You could have sent that, and just used

  Ms. Hanson's log-on name and password to cover your

  tracks.”

  “And you know everybody's password, Henry,”

  Nancy said. “Remember when I forgot mine, and you

  told me what it was?”


  “That's true,” Henry admitted. “Your father insisted

  that we all have each other's passwords in case we need

  to access material in each other's files.”

  “You stick to the law, Mr. Hotshot Paralegal,” Bess

  said, “and leave the investigating to us.”

  “I still think—” Henry began.

  Nancy cut him off. “I think we should look at the

  disk that Byron forgot when Blaine surprised him here

  a few minutes ago to see if he's really the poet he

  claims to be—or if he's something else, altogether.”

  “Good idea, Nan,” Bess said.

  “I saw them both head out of the office,” Henry

  said.

  “You don't think they're working together?” Bess

  asked.

  “No way,” Henry replied. “Those two are like oil and

  water. They do not mix.”

  The three turned on the computer where Byron had

  been sitting and waited for it to boot up.

  “Shh,” Nancy whispered. “I think I hear something.”

  “Naw,” Henry said. “That's just the computer

  warming up. So, what happened? Byron was sneaking

  in here to go on-line, and Blaine caught him?”

  Nancy nodded, and once the computer screen

  showed it was ready, called up the first file on Byron's

  disk. Its contents scrolled down the screen.

  I dream in bits

  and bytes

  Of you

  My shining light

  My dream of day

  My unknown cyber love . . .

  “Enough!” Henry said, rolling his eyes. “I've seen

  enough.”

  “I think it's beautiful,” Bess said, glaring at Henry.

  “I've never seen a computer love poem before.”

  Nancy continued to scan the files, just to be sure,

  but it was all poetry or notes on Web-page design and

  memos to Internet writers' groups. It appeared that

  Byron was just what he claimed to be.

  “Bess and I were pretty sure already,” Nancy said

  thoughtfully. “But this confirms it. If your interest in

  these settled cases is for real, and if Byron's activities

  on-line are truly about his poetry, then Blaine's our

  main suspect.”

  “And she might be dangerous,” Bess warned.

  “Nancy was attacked last night, outside the Cyber

  Space Café—and we found Blaine's missing disk right

  there, where she was attacked.”

  “Blaine's missing disk?” Henry exclaimed. “She's

  been screaming about that all day. Let's take a look at