Page 20 of The Case of the Vanishing Valuables

“Interesting. This could be how the thief moves about.” Ray turned and pondered the door. “And Mrs. Hargrove must know about this passage. Rick knows about it. And Rick said Benedict knew. I wonder if anyone else knows.”

Chapter

Seventeen

“We need to have a little talk with Benedict,” Ray muttered, setting off down the hallway with purpose.

I padded along beside him, flicking my tail in agreement.

We hadn’t made it more than halfway down the hall when Mrs. Hargrove appeared from nowhere, practically skidding to a stop in front of us. She looked like she’d been running a marathon, her face tight with worry.

“Oh, Mr. Leonard, I’m glad I found you!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling slightly.

Ray stopped in his tracks, eyebrows rising. “What’s going on, Mrs. Hargrove?”

“There’s been another incident,” she added, wringing her hands.

Ray’s posture stiffened. “Another theft?”

Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Mr. Benedict reported that his cuff links are missing. They’re very valuable. He’s quite upset.”

I could see in the way Ray’s eyes darted around that his mind was already working overtime, piecing things together.

“When did he notice they were gone?” he asked.

“Just a few minutes ago.”

Ray’s brow furrowed, his thoughts already churning. “Has anyone else reported anything missing?”

Mrs. Hargrove shook her head. “No. But... we’re worried this could escalate. The residents are getting anxious.”

He nodded. “I understand. I’ll look into it. Thanks for letting me know. Where is Benedict?”

She pointed down the hall. “He’s in his room. Number ten.”

Ray and I approached Mr. Benedict’s room with a renewed sense of purpose. The magician’s suite was tucked away in one of the quieter corners of Tranquility Terrace, and as we reached the door, Ray knocked gently. The door creaked open, revealing the dark, moody interior—like a stage set for one of Mr. Benedict’s performances rather than a typical retirement-home room.

My eyes widened slightly as I padded inside. The decor screamed Victorian drama, full of deep reds, heavy drapes, and enough mystery to choke on. Dark wood furniture, velvet cushions, and brass fittings were scattered around the room.

Magic props—silk scarves, decks of cards, and top hats—were perched in odd places, as if the magician had used them in the middle of a trick before abandoning them. A vintage trunk in the corner was partially open, revealing even more tools of the magician’s trade. The faint smell of incense hung in the air, thickening the theatrical atmosphere.

“Mr. Leonard,” Benedict greeted from his chair by the window, his voice as smooth and rehearsed as always. He waved Ray in with a dramatic flourish. “I trust you’ve heard about my missing cuff links.”

Ray nodded but stayed on his feet. “Mrs. Hargrove mentioned it. You said they were valuable?”

Benedict let out a long, exaggerated sigh, running a hand over his perfectly groomed mustache. “Very valuable. Magician-society cuff links—not just any pair. These were passed down to me by my mentor when I joined the order. They’re nearly impossible to find outside the circle. If someone has those in their possession, it would be... obvious.”

Ray crossed his arms, studying Benedict. “And you’re sure they were stolen and not just misplaced?”

Benedict’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Of course.”

“But why not mention it sooner? It’s after noon now, and if you noticed them this morning…”

“I didn’t notice them this morning. I noticed them just a few minutes ago. You see, I keep them tucked away in a box in my underwear drawer. Never think to look there, actually. But when Sally mentioned another theft, I got to thinking I should double-check.”

“So they could have been stolen at any time?”

Mr. Benedict frowned. “I suppose so. Let me think. I remember looking at them last Monday. That’s the last time I can be sure they were here.”

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