The Magician's Secret (Nancy Drew Diaries #8)(7)

“She knows,” my dad said. “I called her.” He put a hand on the clerk’s shoulder. “She understands that it’s not your fault the box disappeared.”

A young police officer said, “When River Heights agreed to host Drake Lonestar’s show, the mayor made sure that no court employees would come in that weekend. Not even janitorial staff. He also agreed to turn off all surveillance cameras for an hour to protect the integrity of the trick. There didn’t seem to be a risk of anything like this. Plus, it was great publicity for River Heights.” Her shoulders slumped.

Mr. Walton was a burly man with a hot temper. “Well, the mayor was wrong,” he shouted with a red, sweaty face. “Because we do have a problem!” His voice echoed off the cement walls. “A big problem.”

The locker was about the size of a small bathroom. The boxes of evidence from the Smallwood case were marked and set against the back walls. There were only three of them.

“The obvious conclusion is that Drake Lonestar removed the mystery box from the courthouse locker during the show,” Mr. Walton continued in a calmer tone. “Find the magician, find the box. And I am certain you will discover that inside the box are the gems, which Mr. Smallwood stole.” He added, “In fact, I’ll bet money on it that Smallwood and Lonestar are in this together.”

“Now wait a minute.” My dad faced Mr. Walton. “You have no proof of any of that. You can’t go around stating your opinions as if they were facts. That’s not how justice works. Mr. Smallwood is innocent until proven guilty. So far we have no evidence that links him to the box, the gems, or to Drake Lonestar.”

Mr. Walton was shorter than my dad but didn’t seem to be intimidated. He rushed forward until the two men were toe-to-toe and bellowed, “Your client is a thief! No doubt about it.”

“Prove it in court!” Dad countered.

They began to argue.

Hugo stepped between them.

An impressive thing about Hugo was the quiet way he asserted himself. He didn’t have to say much—or in this situation anything at all—to show that he was in control. Both my dad and Mr. Walton retreated immediately, and the argument ended.

I turned to Ned. We hadn’t had time to talk about what was going on, and I was suddenly curious as to how he’d gotten into the magic show at all. I still had his ticket in my purse, and security at the magic show had been as tight as a vault.

Ned leaned over and whispered to me, “Mr. Walton is going crazy because besides whatever is in that missing box, the only real evidence he has against Smallwood are the store’s security tapes. And those only show that Mr. Smallwood was the last man in the jewelry shop on the night it was robbed.” He took my hand and led me out of the locker so we could have a minute alone. “If he hadn’t been previously convicted of burglary, I don’t think he’d be a suspect at all.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“As it is, he got out of prison last month after serving a year for armed robbery,” Ned continued.

“What did he steal?” I asked.

“Diamonds,” Ned replied. “Two millions dollars’ worth of them from a shop in Switzerland.”

“Really?” I inhaled sharply. “What was missing from the shop here?”

“Emeralds.” Ned pinched his lips together and wrinkled his forehead. “And rubies.”

“No diamonds?” I considered that.

“No. It’s something in your dad’s favor for the defense. Your dad might be able to say that Mr. Smallwood was only interested in diamonds, so he couldn’t possibly be the thief.” He quickly added, “Plus, Smallwood just got out of prison. Why would he want to risk going back there?”

“Is he the only suspect in the burglary?” I asked.

“So far.” Ned frowned. He pointed at the storage locker. “That’s why they took everything from his hotel room. He’d been staying there a week and was supposed to leave tomorrow. He’s not being held in jail, but he’s not allowed to leave town yet either. So he’s staying with a friend in River Heights.”

I nodded. The police couldn’t keep Mr. Smallwood in town indefinitely. They were going to have to either file charges against him or let him leave River Heights.

Ned motioned toward the crates against the wall. “Every scrap of paper from Smallwood’s trash, the book he was reading, even his toothbrush is in one of those boxes. They are going to investigate him down to the hairs on his head.”

We moved back to where the police were now showing Mr. Walton the lock to the storage room. My dad was hanging at the back of the group.

“There’s no sign of forced entry,” Officer Collins was saying. “And Judge Nguyen has the only key.”

As I got closer, my father raised his shoulder at me, just a tiny bit, and tilted his head. It was his way of asking me to move in closer. I could tell that he wanted me to take a look around, so I gave him the smallest of nods.

Then, with a silent signal of my own, I brought in George. If anyone could figure out how that locker had been opened, she was the one.

George had been standing with Bess, chatting with Hugo and the two assistants. I had no doubt Bess was asking about their designer skirts. The speed with which George came over to me confirmed it. Skirts were definitely not a topic she enjoyed. All I had to do was look at her, then glance at the locker, and she came rushing across the room.