Carolyn Keene - Trial By Fire

Carson had stood at the disruption, his face appearing ten years older than when Nancy had last seen him. One look at her-and the broad smile on her face-and the years began to drop away. He knew she had done it.

“Stanford,” he said, then corrected himself. “Sorry. Your Honor, this is my daughter, Nancy. And her friend Bess Marvin.”

“Oh. Very well. Take seats, young ladies. I regret that you’ve arrived at this particular point in the proceedings. I am ready to make a judgment.”

“Your Honor, please,” Nancy said, moving down to the table at which her father and his associates sat. “I have a few items I’d like to offer into evidence, if that’s the way to say it.”

Judge Leonard frowned. “This is highly irregular. Mr. Drew, was this your idea?”

Nancy’s father stood up. “You may or may not know, Your Honor, that my daughter is a detective.”

The judge’s brows flipped toward his hairline. “A detective?”

“She’s been investigating the charges against me, and from the way she made her entrance, I assume she’s met with some measure of success.”

“I have-” Nancy looked back at Bess. “ We have, Your Honor.” Bess turned peach and grinned.

“I agree that this is highly irregular,” Carson continued. “But if she’s given a chance to present her evidence, we may save all of us a great deal of time and trouble.”

Nancy watched the judge closely. His reaction at that point would determine how she began-whether she should consider him one of the rat pack or one of its victims.

“Very well,” he said. “Present your evidence.”

Nancy removed the paperweight from her pocket and held it up. “Defense exhibit A. I just removed this from my father’s office. This is one of the foundations of the conspiracy against my father.”

“A paperweight?” Judge Leonard said, with barely hidden impatience. “What bearing could it have? I have one like it. So has my secretary.”

“Do they all have ladybugs on the flowers?”

“Yes, I believe they do.”

Nancy beckoned to Bess, who knew exactly what to do. She took out the paperweights she had removed from the box and put them on the table. Nancy scooped up the ladybugs and spread them out. “Defense exhibit B,” she said solemnly.

Then she took the heavy drill and, raising it above her head, smashed her father’s paperweight.

Carson Drew leaned over. “Nancy, what are you doing?”

Without answering, Nancy brushed aside the chunks of glass and carefully removed the ladybug. Turning it over, she showed it to the judge.

His eyes went round, his mouth opening in dawning horror. “Let me see that,” he said, and came down off the bench to stand beside her.

“There are microphones in all of the ladybugs,” Nancy said. “Fleet’s Courier Service drilled holes for pencil points into the tops of the paperweights and maneuvered the ladybugs down through one of the holes. Then they gave them away to judges, lawyers-”

“District attorneys,” the district attorney added tightly.

“Across the street in the parking lot, you’ll find a white Fleet’s van with two fiat tires,” Nancy said. “I slashed them a few minutes ago. The van’s full of electronic listening equipment and recording devices, and it’s been picking up conversations all over Judiciary Square.”

“Bailiff,” Judge Leonard snapped, “get some officers and locate that van immediately! Is there anyone in it, Ms. Drew?”

“Yes, sir. After I punctured the tires, I jammed all the locks. He’s stuck, just waiting to be picked up.”

The bailiff ran up the aisle and out the door.

“They used the paperweight to tape my dad’s voice,” Nancy said, continuing.

Bess, the ever-ready assistant, slid the tapes out of the envelope and said, “Defense exhibit C.” Then she darted back to her seat.

“We found these in the basement of Fleet’s. You can see they’re clearly marked-one with my father’s name, one with Judge Jonathan Renk’s, and one with both. They’re building a library down there.”

“And I imagine my name is on one of those volumes,” the judge said, his face red with anger. “Get somebody to send the police to this place,” he barked at the district attorney.

“They’re probably already there, to pick up the men who’re behind this. The owners of the Gold Star Cab Company.”

“What’s a cab company got to do with this?” the judge asked.

“Uh, if you don’t mind, Your Honor, if I don’t get exhibit-what is it? D?-on the table at this point, I’ll lose my train of thought.”

He smiled. “Then by all means go on.”

Nancy handed her father the two twenty-dollar bills. “Ms. Hanson-that’s my father’s secretary-sent this. It’s your change from the coffee money envelope, Dad.”

He took it. “This could have waited, honey.”

“I don’t think so,” Nancy said, holding up the envelope. “I’m told you make your contribution every couple of weeks.”

Carson Drew nodded. “That’s right. We all do. We-” He stopped, staring, then groaned. “The blank envelope. The coffee envelope. Is my face red!”

“One of Fleet’s couriers simply removed a blank envelope from the stationery rack behind Ms. Hanson’s desk,” Nancy explained, “slipped the coffee money into it, and kept the one you’d handled.”

“So simple. It was brilliant,” Carson exclaimed.

“The couriers are in and out around the clock. I’m guessing one got into your office at night while the cleaning crew was there and typed Unc-I mean, Judge Renk’s name on it.”

“And Fleet’s supplied the ten thousand dollars with which to implicate your father?” Judge Leonard said. “They could afford that?”

Nancy grinned. “That and more. Judge Leonard, do I have a story for you!”

“Incredible, absolutely incredible,” Carson Drew said.

Everyone, Mr. Tyler and Jim Dayton included, was positioned in various stages of collapse in the Drew living room, stuffed to the gills. Hannah had fed them as if it were their last meal.

“All this was to hide a stolen car operation?” Carson asked.

“A million-dollar-a-year stolen car operation,” Nancy emphasized. “They’ve been setting it up for years, bribing anyone who could keep the cab company front going-hack inspectors, licensing officers, police department record clerks.”

“Some city officials are going to be very embarrassed,” Ann said.

“It was a smooth operation,” Ned said. “They’d bring in a stolen car and paint it gold.” He shuddered. “Then they’d slap a magnetic roof light on it, stencil Gold Star on its side, and leave it parked in the garage for a while.”

“Then they’d take it through the car wash to get the water-based paint off and send it on its way-to a used-car lot.” Nancy smiled. “And Ann’s story threatened to expose it all.”

“They needed an insurance company for Gold Star, so they set up the Mid-City cover,” Ann said. “The only businesses Mid-City covered-on paper, that is-was Gold Star, Fleet’s, and Freddie’s Used Cars.”

“But how’d they pull in Jonathan?” Carson asked.

Ned rolled over. He was lying on the floor. “Brownley told us after Nancy and Bess left. He and Reston met the judge at Pinebrook when they went to visit Mrs. Harvey. They had to stay on her good side.”

“They saw how much he enjoyed playing cards and introduced him to some of their buddies,” Ann supplied. “They let him win at first, and that’s all it took. He began to lose. Soon he owed them a fortune.”

“He tried the usual way out first,” Ned said. “He borrowed it from the bank to pay them. But he kept losing-and wound up owing the banks and them, too.”