Carolyn Keene - Trial By Fire

“You were just in time,” Nancy said, grabbing him in a bear hug. “And speaking of time, we’ve got to go!”

They all looked at Jim, who had only moaned when Nancy’s whistle had sounded.

“Maybe he should stay here with me. George’s car is right outside the entrance to Fleet’s,” Ned said. “You take it. I’ll put these two in that cage and call the police.”

Ann, leaning weakly against a Cadillac, managed a smile. “I’ll stay, too. The way my legs are shaking, I’d just slow you down.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Bess said, tugging the envelope from her blouse again.

Nancy started toward the door. “By the way, Ned, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What?”

She turned and pointed. “There’s your car.”

He looked at it and made a strangled sound. “It’s gold! Somebody’s painted my baby gold! Why?”

“It’s a long story,” Ann said with a genuine smile. “Scram, Nancy. I’ll tell him.”

Nancy threw him a kiss and grabbed Bess. “Let’s go.” They sprinted through the opening in the stack of boxes. “Might as well cut through Fleet’s,” Nancy said. “I’ve seen enough Gold Star cabs today.”

They had just skirted the worktable when suddenly Nancy skidded to a stop and spun around.

“What? What?” Bess said.

“Something I just saw.” Backtracking, Nancy went to the file cabinet. On the floor beside it was a box labeled “Nature Under Glass. Fragile.” Sitting on top of it was a plastic bowl. Nancy picked it up and peered at its contents, her mouth falling open in astonishment.

“Ladybugs!” Bess exclaimed.

Nancy reached in and removed a few. “They aren’t real. See what’s in the box, will you?”

While her friend pried open the flaps, Nancy examined the ladybugs more closely. They were tiny, soft-plastic replicas with hollow undersides.

“There are paperweights in here,” Bess said. Nestled in the box in protective cushioning were heavy glass domes, each with a different kind of flower embedded in it.

Nancy turned slowly and stared at the big drill on the worktable. “Drew, you are slipping,” she murmured. “Bess, can you carry a couple of the paperweights?”

“Sure. Why? Nancy, it’s after two!”

“I just found the bug I was looking for.” She slipped the ladybugs in her pocket and picked up the drill. “Let’s go.”

“Well, since we’re grabbing stuff,” Bess said. She crossed behind the worktable and picked up the papers Brownley had dropped. “These must be valuable, or he wouldn’t have pulled them out of the file.”

“Good idea,” Nancy agreed as they ran out. “The more proof we have, the better. It’s a cinch Reston and Brownley will deny everything.”

“Oh! I started to tell you before.” Bess rooted in her pocket as they ran past startled couriers on the street level. “I don’t know if it worked, but I slipped one of their minirecorders in my pocket. They had a lot of them.”

She pulled it out as Nancy unlocked George’s car. “It’s still running!” she whooped, climbing in. “I’ve got everything they said on tape!”

“You’re kidding!” Nancy started the engine and tore away from the curb. “Everything?”

“I was behind the boxes when they were talking about the judge,” Bess said, buckling her seat belt. “But these little things have good mikes in them.”

“In other words, we bugged them !” Nancy said, taking a corner on two wheels. “Oh, Bess, you’re wonderful! Now if we can only get to court before Judge Leonard winds things-”

“Leonard?” Bess twisted in her seat. “The judge for your father’s pretrial is Leonard?”

“That’s right. Stanford Leonard, I think.”

“Oh, no! Oh, Nancy! One of the cassettes was marked S. Leonard! The judge may be on Reston’s payroll!”

Nancy’s stomach dropped. “Reston said he had been grooming another judge to take my uncle’s place.”

“Then Leonard must be the one,” Bess said.

“But Judge Leonard is one of the finest men on the bench! My dad said he wouldn’t be surprised if Leonard ended up on the Supreme Court!”

“If the wrong thing’s on that tape back there, he’ll wind up in jail.”

Nancy ran a yellow light and sped toward Judiciary Square. “Well, if he’s in the enemy camp, there’s one more stop I’d better make.”

“Where?”

“My dad’s office.”

Poor Ms. Hanson almost jumped out of her skin when Nancy burst through the door. She had an envelope of money in her hand, and the coins went flying.

“Is it over?” the secretary cried. “Has Mr. Drew been bound over for trial?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy said and dashed into her father’s office.

The object of her detour sat on her father’s desk, twinkling in the sunlight. She picked it up to double check her theory. The ladybug was positioned directly under one of the tapered holes for pencils. It was the perfect place for a hidden mike. A bug in a bug!

On her way out, her eyes raked the secretary’s desk. No paperweight.

“Oh, are you taking that home?” Ms. Hanson asked bewilderedly. “That’s what I did with mine.”

Quickly Nancy put a finger to her lips. She went back into her father’s office, turned on his radio, and placed the paperweight in front of the speaker.

Ms. Hanson watched from the doorway, clearly confused. Nancy pulled her out and closed the door.

“How did you and my dad get those paperweights?” she asked softly.

“One of the messenger services passed them out when they first started business-a nice public-relations gesture. Mine had a pansy, my favorite, so I-”

“Passed them out?” Nancy interrupted. “To whom?”

“Everybody. They’re all over the building. All over the square, for that matter.”

Nancy gasped. “The whole of Judiciary Square?”

“Here and in the professional building-and that highrise full of attorneys a couple of blocks over. What’s the matter?”

Nancy shook her head. “I don’t have time to explain. Thanks, Ms. Hanson.”

Something glinted in the thick brown carpet. Nancy bent down, picked up a dime, and dropped it into the secretary’s hand as she started for her father’s office again.

Suddenly she stopped short. Ms. Hanson was gathering the other change on her desk.

“Is that money for buying coffee supplies?” Nancy asked.

“Yes. Oh, will you do me a favor?” She opened the envelope and removed two twenty-dollar bills. “Keep that for your father. He put a fifty in because he didn’t have anything smaller. That’s his change.”

Nancy felt as if the sun had just come out after a long, cold night. She checked the envelope. It was office stationery, with no writing on it. “How often does he contribute to the coffee fund?”

“Oh, every couple of weeks.”

“And he just puts it in an envelope and leaves it for you?”

Ms. Hanson eyed her worriedly. “That’s right. Do you feel all right, Nancy?”

Nancy leaned over and kissed her. “I feel fine, Ms. Hanson. For the first time in days, I feel terrific !”

She ran back into her father’s office, grabbed the paperweight, and left.

Nancy had picked up Bess, and the two girls pelted through the halls of the courthouse as if they were trying for gold medals. People turned and stared, and a security guard shouted, “Hey!” and began to run after them.

“What took you so long?” Bess panted. “And what were you doing in that parking lot across the street from your dad’s office? I could see you from here.”

“Later,” Nancy said as they burst through the doors of Courtroom C. Judge Leonard, stern and unsmiling, lifted his gavel and pounded on his desk. “Bailiff, remove these-”