“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!”
Chapter Eighteen
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.