Stealing Magic (22 page)

J
ACK, STILL CARRYING DORA’S LEATHER
bag, reached in and retrieved the vase. The three of them stood in the little side room adjacent to E3, the Japanese Room. Everything was just as it had been when Ruthie had removed the bento box and when Jack had replaced it; the room was too still, too quiet.

“Go ahead, Jack. It belongs on the low table right in front of the scroll painting,” Ruthie said.

Jack stepped across the tatami mats and set the beautiful green vase in place. No sooner had he done so than the chiming of the magic wafted through the room on a breeze that came from the garden. Dora took a step back when she heard the sound.

“We were right,” Jack said to Ruthie. “It was alive the first time.”

“What are you talking about? What was that noise?” Dora asked.

“This vase is the object that animates the room,” Ruthie answered.

“That’s unbelievable!” Dora exclaimed.

Jack walked into the Zen garden, out of sight, while Ruthie stayed next to Dora.

“Dora, the bento box there.” She pointed to Jack’s box on the black lacquer table. “Did you write on the note inside it?”

“I was wondering when you’d ask. Yes, I did. When I opened the room from the glass front to study the miniatures, something about the box stood out to me.” Ruthie could feel Dora’s obsession as she continued. “When I found your note—I had to write back. I used a magnifying glass and a very sharp pencil. Several weeks went by. Then I read about you and Jack in the paper, about how you had found Mr. Bell’s album. I knew you had to be the same kids. And then, as luck would have it, I met you that morning in the gallery.”

Ruthie let her talk without interrupting or asking any more questions. It was clear she wasn’t going to tell the entire truth about going to Mr. Bell’s opening: Dora had needed to see what they looked like so she would recognize them in the museum. It wasn’t luck at all that they had met. Dora had been betting on the fact that sooner or later she and Jack would show up in Gallery 11.

“I had already discovered that some of the miniatures weren’t really miniatures at all, but valuable antiques that had found their way into the rooms. I had the problem
that I already told you about, that some of them had grown in my bag, and they were sitting in my apartment until I could figure out how to shrink them and return them.”

“Well, it’s good that we’ve put them all back,” Ruthie said, a meaningful tone in her voice.

Dora looked at her for a split second. “Don’t you believe me?”

“There’s still a globe missing from E6,” Ruthie said. She saw a look flash across Dora’s face.

“Oh, that. It was in my office, and a client insisted on having it. I’ve been planning on getting that back. Clients can be very demanding.”

Now that Ruthie knew for certain that it was Dora who had written on the note, it was time to remove it from the room before anyone else came across it. “Wait here.” Ruthie checked the viewing window and then rushed over to the bento box. She retrieved the letter just as Jack was coming back from the garden. “Do you still want to leave your box here?”

“Yeah. I like knowing that it’s here. What do you think?”

Ruthie nodded.

Back in the side room, Jack handed Dora her leather bag. “Here, you might as well take this now.”

“Thank you.” Dora looked at Ruthie and Jack for a couple of long moments. Then she said, “I would love to help you two understand what an opportunity you have here. No one has this sort of access to such treasures!”

Ruthie could hardly believe that Dora was still plotting
how to steal more objects! It was clear; Dora wasn’t going to change her ways. But Ruthie played along. “Let’s go to E1 and show Dora everything,” she said in her most convincing voice.

“We’d better hurry,” Jack called as he charged forward. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

As they approached the ladder, Jack stepped aside. “Dora, why don’t you go first. That way you won’t worry that we’ll be leaving you behind, since we climb faster.”

“Thank you,” she responded.

When Dora was about ten rungs down Ruthie quietly took Duchess Christina’s key from her pocket and grabbed Jack’s hand. She tossed the key over the ledge, and together they jumped.

As Dora saw their two expanding figures fly by, she lost her footing and nearly fell. She dangled for several seconds until she was able to get her high heels on a toothpick again. “What are you doing?” she yelled.

“We don’t really think you’re the kind of person we can trust to keep the magic safe. Sorry, Dora,” Ruthie said.

“But where are you going? How will I get big?” Dora screamed hysterically.

“When the museum closes”—Jack looked at his watch—“in about two hours, just slip under the door. You’ll be full-sized before you get to the stairs,” he said.

Ruthie couldn’t resist adding, “Watch out for mice. And there are cockroaches too.”

“Wait! Please, don’t leave me here alone.” They didn’t even turn around again.

“You’ll be sorry!” That was the last thing they heard Dora’s tiny voice shriek at them as they unlocked the door and left her alone in the dark corridor, clinging to the ladder.

By the time they arrived at the apartment building where Dora lived (it had been easy to find—she was the only Pandora Pommeroy in the phone book), the police were already there with a search warrant. Ruthie and Jack ran from the bus stop and found Dr. Bell—as planned—standing near her car talking to one of the officers.

“Ruthie, Jack! How did it go?” she asked.

“Better than we planned!” Ruthie said.

“Piece of cake!” Jack echoed. “I think she’ll show up here around five-thirty.”

“Are you the two amateur detectives we owe thanks to?” the policeman asked.

“Officer Randolph, this is Jack Tucker, and this is Ruthie Stewart,” Dr. Bell said.

“Pretty clever of you two to figure out who the art thief was and provide us with evidence.”

“We got lucky,” Jack said modestly.

“Officer Randolph just gave me some interesting news,” Dr. Bell started. “The woman who had given the suspect the necklace as a tip came forward this morning. She’d been out of town, but as soon as she returned and read about it in the paper, she contacted the police. She had befriended the man, and he confided in her that he
wanted to impress his girlfriend but didn’t have enough money to buy her an expensive gift. She said she’d felt sorry for him, and she thought the necklace didn’t suit her anyway. Can you believe it?”

“Some tip, huh?” Officer Randolph concluded. Then something seemed to occur to him, and he asked Jack and Ruthie, “How do you know she’ll be here at five-thirty?”

Jack and Ruthie looked at each other, and Ruthie responded, “She’s doing something at the Art Institute, and it closes at five.”

“Well, you’ve been right about everything so far. We’ll just expect her then.” He walked away to confer with the other officers.

“The police were really knocked over when I took the video in,” Dr. Bell told them. “I also showed them the photo evidence you gave me with the apples. It turns out that a couple of collectors who had recently hired her as a decorator began talking to each other about the thefts. They started getting suspicious and had spoken to one of the detectives on the case, but they had no hard evidence. Your video was exactly what they needed!”

“That’s great!” Ruthie said.

“I bet we’ll be in the papers again!” Jack added gleefully.

“All they need to do is search her apartment for the stolen property, and then they can arrest her,” Dr. Bell explained.

Now it was hurry-up-and-wait time. At five-fifteen they got in Dr. Bell’s car to watch.

“I almost forgot,” Jack said, reaching into his backpack. “I swiped these from Dora’s bag when I was out of sight in the Zen garden.”

Ruthie looked at a set of keys in Jack’s hand. “I wondered what you were doing back there.” The keys were all labeled AIC, for the Art Institute of Chicago; one was the access door key, and a smaller one had a tag that said
TR Fronts
. “The key to the access door and the windows! Now for sure she’ll never be able to steal from the rooms!”

At five-thirty Dora’s car screeched to a halt in front of her building. She got out, slammed the door and stomped to the entrance.

Almost immediately, the three police officers followed her into the building.

“I wonder how long it will take,” Dr. Bell asked. “I’ve never watched an arrest happen!”

Her question was answered quickly: about fifteen minutes after they’d gone in, the officers came out again, this time with a handcuffed Pandora Pommeroy in tow. She stood tall and still elegant-looking between the policemen, but the face of this woman who had once appeared so stylish and impressive was now transformed by equal parts of pride and anger. They watched in silence as the police put her in the back of the squad car and drove off.

Dr. Bell went with Ruthie and Jack back to Mrs. McVittie’s and quickly told her everything. Then Ruthie’s parents arrived, with Claire. Jack called his mom and invited her to dinner at Mrs. McVittie’s, and Dr. Bell stayed as well. Even Gabe showed up—Claire had phoned him.

“I can’t believe it!” Claire exclaimed during dinner. “My little sister, the detective!”

Of course, not all of the story would be recounted publicly. But the part they could talk about, and the part that made the headlines, was amazing enough!

“There are going to be some very happy collectors in Chicago now that the real thief’s been caught,” Lydia said.

“So, Ruthie and Jack,” Ruthie’s father began, “when did you become suspicious of Dora?”

Jack answered, “At first she just seemed like a nice lady giving art lessons.”

Ruthie thought about it for a minute. In hindsight there were a few moments during her drawing lessons that had made Ruthie wonder a little about Dora. “I should have known sooner. She sometimes seemed more interested in things than in people. That’s never a good sign.”

“But what was the deal with the apples?” Claire asked.

“We figure they’re her signature,” Jack answered. “You know—her calling card.”

Then Ruthie felt a flash of insight. “Apples! Of course! Mom, isn’t the French word for apple
pomme
?”

“Yes—oh, I see! And her name is Pommeroy.
Pommeraie
is the French word for an apple orchard!” her mother confirmed.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. No wonder I’ve been dreaming about apples all week!”

T
HE NEXT DAY AFTER SCHOOL
, Ruthie and Jack went to the police station to give statements and sign some papers. They agreed to be witnesses if there was a trial.

“You two have performed a great civic duty by helping us,” Officer Randolph said. “She’ll be in jail for quite a stretch. We checked her bank accounts; she’s been making big bucks selling the stolen art. Personally, I think she’s maybe a little crazy, that lady,” he confided.

“Why do you think so?” Ruthie asked.

“She keeps talking about a curse that’s been put on her. And something about a giant mouse!” He shook his head.

“Sounds crazy to me,” Jack said.

“Me too,” Ruthie agreed. “Crazy.”

It turned out that Dora’s apartment was filled with many stolen antiques, and it would take some time for the
police to get everything back to the rightful owners. The collectors whose apartments she had decorated were very cooperative when they found out she had been selling stolen goods to them. Ruthie did a careful check of the Thorne Rooms against the photos in the catalogue, and as far as she could see, nothing other than the objects they already knew about seemed to be missing.

Getting the little silver box back from room E10 was easy—as far as the police were concerned, it belonged to Dr. Bell, since they had seen it stolen on Jack’s surveillance video. It took several weeks to recover the globe. From Lydia’s photograph of the collector’s apartment Ruthie and Jack knew exactly where it was. Mrs. McVittie stepped up to claim it as hers, saying Dora had “borrowed” it from her shop. After she filed some official police documents, they eventually retrieved it (after all, they knew no one else could rightfully claim it). Ruthie and Jack planned to return it to the room where it belonged as soon as possible.