08 The Magician's Secret (6 page)

The courthouse was usually closed on Sunday, just like Saturday, but today, like yesterday, it was bustling.

Reporters were milling around, waiting for a story. My dad was off to the side with Ned. Even at a distance, I could see that Ned's hair was standing up and his suit, the same one he'd worn the day before, was rumpled. He'd clearly been working all night.

Hugo, with Gritty Grand's nieces in tow, pulled his rental car into the space next to mine, and all six of us ran across the parking lot together. I raced up to Ned.

“I wondered when you'd show up,” he said, kissing me hello on the cheek. “News travels fast in River Heights.”

“I saw the arrest on TV.”

He nodded. “But the news only reported that Lonestar was picked up. An hour ago John Smallwood was also brought in for questioning again.”

“Why?” I asked.

Ned opened his mouth, when my dad cut in. “Tell her everything,” my father told Ned. “Every detail.” He looked at me. “We need your big brain on this one,” he said.

“Big brain?” I laughed. “A genetic mutation from your side of the family, I believe.”

“And a good thing, too. Now put that mass of gray matter to use and figure out what is going on, okay?” My dad gave me a kiss on the top of my head.

“I'll try my best,” I told him, then returned my gaze to Ned.

“The police finally found Drake Lonestar. Turns out that unlike you or me, he needs a lot of sleep,” Ned said. “He was in bed in his hotel room.”

“Performing magic is exhausting,” I repeated what Hugo had told me earlier.

“Right.” Ned rolled his eyes as if Drake was simply a prima donna who had no idea about real work. “Anyway, the officers discovered that not only was the magician staying in the same hotel as Smallwood, but the two men had rooms across the hall from each other.”

I lurched forward in surprise when Ned quickly added, “Apparently the magician was initially put into the same room as Smallwood, but that was a mistake.” He shook his head. “When Drake walked in, Smallwood was in the shower. The hotel cleared it up, putting Drake in the room across the hall.”

“Shower? That must have been awkward.” I chuckled at the thought of walking into a hotel room that was already occupied. “So they had a moment where their paths crossed, but that doesn't prove they knew each other or that Lonestar was involved in the gem
theft,” I said, furrowing my brow. “Did Lonestar have the missing box or the jewels?”

“No,” Ned admitted.

I'd seen Lonestar in handcuffs. “What are the charges against him?”

“He's under investigation for the jewel theft. The police are focusing on the Lonestar and Smallwood connection.” Ned added, “That's why Smallwood is being questioned again.”

“Under investigation,” I echoed Ned's words. “Lonestar shouldn't have been arrested, then. Escorted to court, yes, but no handcuffs.”

“I've got this one.” I turned to see Officer Fernandez approach. “Lonestar was arrested for disorderly conduct.”

I raised my eyebrows. That was unexpected.

“When we showed up, we insisted on knowing how the courthouse disappeared. We figured that if we understood how the trick was done, we could determine how Lonestar managed to break into the evidence locker and steal the box. Instead of answering
our questions, Lonestar went crazy and started throwing things around the room.”

“He should have known better,” I said, wrinkling my brow.

“He doesn't like to be questioned about the magic. We're all clear on that now.” She continued, “The police chief believes that Smallwood was working with Lonestar. The theory is that Smallwood stole the gems and put them in the box. He was supposed to give the box to Lonestar. But when Smallwood was arrested and all his belongings were collected by the police, Lonestar panicked. He used his magic to snag the box, and thus, stole the gems for himself.” Officer Fernandez's cell phone beeped. “If you'll excuse me, I need to take this.” She moved away.

“All this is based on the fact that Drake Lonestar had a room in the hotel across the hall from John Smallwood?” I muttered to myself. The police seemed to be guessing—creating a story about events that they couldn't prove. I knew it. Officer Fernandez knew it. And my dad knew it.

I asked Ned if anyone had found anything suspicious at the hotel.

“No witnesses,” he told me. “No box. No gems. Nothing out of place. Even with the disorderly conduct charge, the police are going to have to let Lonestar go soon. They might not let him leave town for a while, but they can't keep here very long.”

“This case is getting more and more complicated,” I told Ned. “Every time I think we're onto something meaningful, it dissolves into nothing.” I bit my lip in frustration.

“I'll find out if Lonestar has said anything relevant to the police,” Ned told me.

“My guess is he didn't,” I said.

“My guess is you're right,” Ned replied.

He left me standing on the courthouse steps, shaking my head and wondering what to do next.

“Nancy, come sit with me.” Hugo was resting on a bench just outside the courthouse, staring out toward the empty space where the magic show stage had been
the day before. “We can wait to hear what's going on together. It'll be better than waiting alone.”

Hugo was so devoted to Drake Lonestar, my admiration for him was growing. Their friendship reminded me of mine with Bess and George. I decided to stay with him until either Ned and my dad came out, Drake was released, or I saw Smallwood.

Bess and George made their way over to us. There was nothing to do but sit there and see if Lonestar would be released.

“Looks like you might not make your train Tuesday,” I told Hugo.

“I know.” He sighed. “But I'm not canceling the next show until it's absolutely certain that we can't get there in time. The show isn't for a week after we arrive, so we might be able to pull it off. Maybe I'll go ahead without Drake. I can set things up and wait for him there.” He glanced at the courthouse. “We'll see.”

We sat on that bench waiting for an hour. Then two. At the end of the third hour, Bess was done reorganizing her purse and George had maxed out the data
minutes on her smartphone. I'd slept a bit on a nearby patch of grass to make up for the night before, but the truth was we were bored.

Even though it wasn't her job, Officer Fernandez had been bringing us periodic updates and snacks. This time she had bottles of water and granola bars. She was about to leave when Hugo asked, “Want to see some magic?”

Bess brightened. “Sure.”

We all gathered around as I shook off the last bit of my sleepiness with a big yawn.

“Can I borrow your handcuffs?” he asked Officer Fernandez. By now we'd spent so much time together that we knew her first name was Faith, that she drove a convertible, and that she lived across the street from her elderly parents.

The officer put a hand on the silver metal cuffs that hung off her police belt. “I don't think it's a good idea. . . .”

“Just for a minute,” Hugo said. “I promise they'll be returned to you.”

She glanced at the courthouse doors, then to the street. No one was around except for us and a small band of reporters a block away. She pinched her lips together for a short pause before handing Hugo the cuffs.

He passed them to me. “Nancy, check these out. Confirm they are real. I want you to make sure the lock isn't broken and that there aren't any hidden release buttons.”

I examined the cuffs and didn't find anything strange.

“Faith,” Hugo asked Officer Fernandez, “did I borrow these earlier? Have they been in your possession at all times? Is there any way I might have tampered with them?”

She shook her head. “No to all those questions. I've had them the whole day.”

“Put them on me,” he told her.

I handed the cuffs back to the officer. She slipped them around Hugo's outstretched hands and locked them tight.

“Where is the key?” Hugo asked, then laughed. “I probably should have asked that before I had you put them on my wrists.” He jingled the chain now connecting his wrists together as Officer Fernandez held up a ring of keys.

I had to admit, he was a good showman. I just hoped the trick lived up to his jokes.

“Bess,” Hugo asked, “can I use the scarf that's in your purse?”

“Wow!” Bess exclaimed. “How'd you know I had a scarf  ?”

Hugo rolled his eyes.

“It doesn't take a psychic to know that,” I told Bess gently. “We all just watched you clean out your bag.”

Bess smiled sheepishly. “Oh, yeah.” She reached into her purse and gave Hugo a boldly patterned blue scarf.

“Toss it over my hands,” Hugo said, making a scene about how he couldn't possibly do it by himself since he was wearing cuffs.

Bess covered his hands and the handcuffs.

“Do you have a favorite magic word?” Hugo asked me.

“Abracadabra,” I answered.

“Right. Now, Nancy, wave your hands over the scarf and say your magic word.”

I did as he told me.

“Ta-da!” An instant later Bess's scarf floated to the ground. Hugo picked it up with his free hands. The locks on the cuffs were both open. He gave the handcuffs back to Officer Fernandez and told her to examine them again.

“Well done,” she told him. “Remind me not to arrest you.”

“How'd you do it?” George asked. I could see the wheels in her brain turning. “Are you double-jointed? Did you put grease on your hands to slip them out? Did you pickpocket the officer's key?”

At that Officer Fernandez checked her key ring. She still had the key.

“It's magic,” Hugo said with a chuckle.

“So, you're not just the show's manager and a
security guard . . . you're a magician, too?” I asked.

“Not like Drake.” Hugo shrugged. “Drake's art is entirely based on distraction and misdirection.”

“Distraction and misdirection,” I repeated. “That's magic based on illusion.” I was glad that George had taught me about magicians.

Hugo nodded, then went on, “I wanted to be like him at first, but I couldn't figure out how to attract a crowd. I tried doing street shows for a while but never made more than a few bucks and a bus token.” He gave Bess her scarf. “All I ever wanted was to be involved in magic. So when the chance came to work for Drake Lonestar, I jumped at it. I tied my dreams to Drake's, and he's done well for us both.”

“What about your own dreams?” Bess asked. “After all, that was a really good trick. People would totally pay to see you perform.”

“It's too expensive to start: renting venues, travel, advertising, plus the tricks have to get bolder and fancier every year,” Hugo said. “I'm happy working for Drake.” Hugo stared down at his hands. I could see
a faint red line around each wrist where the cuffs had bitten into his skin. I had to admit I had no idea how he'd done it.

Hugo shook out his hands, looked up at the courthouse door, and let loose a long sigh. “I don't know what I'll do if they don't free him soon.”

BY DINNERTIME I WAS BACK
home with Ned, John Smallwood, who had been released into my father's custody, and my dad. He couldn't go back to his hotel room anyway, due to all the press gathered in the hallway.

Drake Lonestar was also stuck in River Heights for a few more days. Officer Fernandez had arranged for him to be released to Hugo. The bodyguard was still hopeful they'd be on the Tuesday train out of River Heights, but it didn't look good.

After the day's grueling events—not to mention a sleepless night before—I think we were all ready for a hot meal. Our housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, had just served her famous lasagna when the front door burst open.

“Nancy!” Bess shouted from the front hallway.