“You don’t have to worry. Everything’s going to be all right. If the statue isn’t worth anything, the thief will probably bring it back. A fake is no use to a thief. You’ll get your statue back in no time.”

Diana mumbled something, but I couldn’t make it out.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, the girl detective hasn’t cracked it yet.” And then Diana made a break for it, scurrying out into the hallway, throwing the sliding door between us. I heard the clunk of a lock slipping into place. I yanked the handle as hard as I could, but the door stayed shut.

“Diana, let me out! Just tell me the truth. I promise you won’t be in trouble,” I called, but there was no reply.

I checked the time on my phone: 7:50 p.m. I had to make it back to the ballroom before the Duchess’s announcement. By now, all the guests would be in the ballroom. Everyone, including the Duchess’s granddaughter. If I could spot Mona Pearl in the crowd, I could ask her why she’d tried to pass off a fake statue as ancient and valuable art.

But first I had to get out of the drawing room, and the sliding door was stuck fast. It could be that there was another, hidden exit from the room. Before I started searching, though, it wouldn’t hurt to examine the scene of Diana’s sort-of crime.

I went back to where the pedestal lay on its side, surrounded by pieces of plaster and dust. Diana had left a fist-size hole in the side of the plaster, revealing a hollow center, a rectangular space large enough for a loaf of bread, a book, or a small painting. Before touching anything, I took out my phone to document the debris and saw I had three missed texts from George.

Where are you?

You’re going to miss the Duchess’s announcement!

Hello???

I’d text her back in a second and explain where I was. Then George could come and rescue me. She’d like that.

The hole in the pedestal had already revealed its secrets to Diana, but maybe she had left something behind. I covered my hand with a fold of my skirt so I wouldn’t erase Diana’s fingerprints, and felt around inside the cavity. My fingertips brushed something at the very back—something long, thin, and slithery, with a weight on the end. Not a snake, I realized as I pulled it out. A red ribbon with a charm on the end. I held it up to the light, watching the silver ornament spin. It was some kind of lizard—a tiny chameleon with a curly tail and tiny, glittering eyes made of red rhinestones.

The ribbon was pretty, but it was too short to wear in your hair.

“What are you for?” I wondered out loud.

Meanwhile, as the chameleon spun, I could’ve sworn it winked.

Then it came to me: a bookmark! The ribbon was the perfect length for sliding between pages, and the charm kept the ribbon in place.