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The Culprit






 

“We lost him! ” George exclaimed angrily between gasps for air.

Bess shrugged. “Well, we tried. Let’s go back to Aunt Eloise’s and tell Nancy about this.”

George nodded. “There’s a bus pulling up on the corner. We’ll have to run to catch it.”

Bess groaned. “I’ll never make it! I’m out of breath as it is! ”

But George wasn’t listening. She was already running toward the bus, with Bess trailing behind. They just managed to squeeze through the door before it closed.

“How do you know this is the right bus? ” Bess panted.

“I don‘t, but let’s hope so.”

To the girls’ chagrin, however, they soon discovered that they were heading away from Aunt Eloise’s apartment. It was getting dark, too, and a damp chill had seeped into the bus.

“We’ll get off the next stop, ” George said, but it proved to be a desolate corner, causing the two passengers to debark at the following one which seemed livelier.

There they caught a taxi and were home in less than fifteen minutes. Surprisingly, they discovered that Nancy had not yet returned.

“Where is she? ” Aunt Eloise questioned when she saw that her niece wasn’t with Bess and George. “She ought not to wander around the city alone at night.”

Bess explained how they had tossed a coin which had sent Nancy to the Millington Company.

“Well, I’m sure they’re closed now, ” Aunt Eloise said fearfully. “George, will you call their number? ”

George complied at once, but there was no answer.

“The switchboard operator must have gone home, ” she said.

“Did you dial the right number? ” Bess asked, observing the worrisome look on Eloise Drew’s face.

“Of course, I did, ” the girl said. She dialed again, however, to satisfy everyone, and again all she heard was a steady ring.

Nancy had been beating her fists on the workroom door in the Millington office, hoping someone would come to free her. But in the general confusion outside, no one seemed to hear. After a while, the shouts and footsteps died down as the office emptied out, and Nancy was left in the room all alone.

She stumbled through the darkness, bruising herself on the leg of an ironing board as she searched for the desk.

I have to find something flat, a letter opener perhaps, that I can use to force the lock! she said to herself.

She opened a side drawer and her fingers ran over pencils and paper clips before coming to rest on a slim cardboard box that contained filing tabs of some sort. Nancy took one, then went back to the door, shoving the tough sliver into the crack between the door panel and the frame. She pushed it down slowly, trying to slide it over the tumbler. But it jammed. Desperately she tried again. This time, the lock slipped and released.

Dropping the tab, Nancy opened the door and felt her way into the adjoining stock room, where she groped for a light switch. She found one finally and pushed it, but nothing happened. Through the window she noticed that lights were on in the surrounding buildings. Their glow filtered dimly through the dusty glass.

Apparently, the blackout is restricted to this building, Nancy thought. Well, I’d better call Aunt Eloise.

She made her way slowly to the main office, letting her hands trail over a desk top until they settled on a telephone. To her dismay, however, she couldn’t make a connection. All calls were apparently controlled by a switchboard that was closed.

Trying to remain calm, Nancy headed for the door that led to the reception area. To her relief, it was open!

The elevator is right across the hall from here, she thought. I hope it works!

When her outstretched hands made contact with the metal doors after she had crossed the corridor, she fumbled for the button and punched it. A slight hum indicated that the elevator was indeed operating!

“Thank goodness, ” the girl detective murmured, and stepped inside the car.

When she arrived on the ground floor, she found the main entrance unlocked. Instantly, she rushed outside to hail a taxi. The driver gabbed cheerfully, trying to engage her in conversation, but Nancy felt so tired all of a sudden she could only raise enough energy to suppress a series of yawns. By the time she reached the apartment, she was ready to fall asleep.

“Nancy! ” Aunt Eloise cried upon seeing her. “Where have you been? ”

The torrent of questions that followed from Bess and George woke the girl up immediately.

“We were just about to call the police! ” George exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m glad you didn‘t, ” Nancy said, dropping into a chair.

She spun out her story as fast as she could, then listened to the others. Bess and George had made phenomenal discoveries, she told them.

“So it seems that the guy we saw in the restaurant today is the real Chris Chavez, ” Bess said.

“And the one who introduced himself to me at the party is someone else, ” Nancy put in. “Just who is he? ”

“Well, we know he’s a friend of Jacqueline‘s and he knows her brother, ” George commented.

“If I’d never heard about Ted Henri, investigative reporter, ” Nancy said, “I’d wonder if he weren’t a figment of her imagination.”

“Maybe Jacqueline’s involved in the design thefts and when she heard you were coming to town, figured she had to cover up somehow, ” Bess suggested.

“But taking off the way she did before the fashion show and leaving Aunt Eloise in the lurch only drew attention to herself, ” Nancy replied.

“That’s for sure, ” George said. “It made everybody suspicious.”

“Us in particular, ” Bess concurred. She grap pled with her bewilderment. “Jackie’s behavior doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“Precisely, ” Nancy responded, “and I’m too tired to worry about it tonight. Let’s try to figure out things tomorrow.”

Before going to bed, however, Aunt Eloise spoke to Nancy alone.

“What are you going to do about that job you supposedly have at Millington? ”

“Oh, I’m going back there tomorrow morning.”

“After all that’s happened to you? I don’t think it’s a good idea, ” Aunt Eloise objected. “Of course, you realize you were locked in that workroom on purpose.”

Nancy nodded. “But I want to find out who did it and why! ”

Aunt Eloise still looked doubtful. “At least promise me you’ll discuss it with your father first.”

“I’ll call Dad in the morning. And please don’t worry, Aunt Eloise.”

In spite of her exhaustion, the young detective slept fitfully that night. When she awoke the next morning, her eyelids were puffy and she had trouble keeping them open.

“Didn’t you sleep? ” George asked Nancy.

“Not very well.” She yawned.

“This will wake you up, ” Bess said, putting a glass of grapefruit juice and the morning newspaper in front of her.

Nancy sipped the juice, allowing her eyes to fall on a small headline. Bess and George watched them pop.

According to the newspaper, Russell Kaiser’s co-op apartment had been burglarized the night before! No mention was made about the nature of missing items, but Nancy wondered about the medallion. Had it been stolen and was there a connection between Kaiser’s impostor and the robbery?

“I’d say it’s a good thing we came along on this visit, ” George said. “Otherwise, Nancy, you’d be working forty-eight hours a day on these mysteries! ”

Nancy laughed, dropping a piece of bread in the toaster. “You’re absolutely right, ” she said, “and I have a hunch I’m going to need lots of energy again today! ”

“Are you heading back to Millington? ” Bess inquired.

“Definitely. I want to see Mr. Iannone first thing.”

“What should we do? ” George asked.

“How about visiting Russell Kaiser? ” Nancy said.

“Which one? ” Bess giggled.

“That’s for you to figure out. Maybe you ought to stop by the apartment mentioned in this article.”

Aunt Eloise, who had slept later than usual, stood in the doorway. Her presence reminded Nancy of their conversation the night before, and she quickly telephoned her father. Mr. Drew agreed that she should go back to Millington, but warned her to be careful.

“I will be, ” she promised, then invited Bess and George to meet her for lunch near the Millington office. “That way we can keep check on each other, ” Nancy said, raising a smile from her aunt.

Half an hour later, she was at Millington’s reception desk. When she asked for Mr. Iannone, however, she was told he wasn’t in.

“But he hired me yesterday, ” Nancy said to the receptionist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a brown-haired woman pass hurriedly through a door. Nancy turned her head, catching the face before she disappeared. The young detective was positive that it was Rosalind, the stylist whom Mr. Reese had hastily fired the night of the fashion show!

The girl at the desk now pressed a buzzer, calling someone to come out for a moment.

Soon, an officious woman in a green wool suit appeared. “This is Nancy Drew, ” the receptionist introduced the visitor.

Again Nancy asked for Mr. Iannone.

“He doesn’t work here any longer, ” the woman informed her. “He quit yesterday.”

Nancy gulped. “Quit! ”

“Yes. Are you a personal friend of his, may I ask? ”

“No, but he offered me a job here.”

“Well, he had no authority to do so. I’m in charge now.”

The steely tone in the woman’s voice told the girl it would be tough to persuade her to go along with Mr. Iannone’s decision. So Nancy took a different tack. She related her unpleasant experience in the workroom and her suspicions that it was somehow connected to the recent thefts from the Reese collection.

“My, you do have an active imagination, ” the woman said. “I’m quite positive that your trouble yesterday was an accident. I’m sorry about it, but I’m not going to hire you because of it! ”

There was nothing left to say, so Nancy departed. Disappointed, she took the elevator to the lobby, not paying much attention to anyone until her eyes settled on the revolving doors ahead of her, and the man approaching them.

He looked familiar, but his head was bent low in a long, plaid scarf wrapped thickly around his neck. Nancy ducked into a magazine booth as he came forward, then watched as he loosened his scarf while he waited for an elevator.

Nancy had picked up a magazine, burying her face in it until she heard the door slide open. Then, as the stranger and several other people stepped inside, and turned to face the corridor, the girl lifted her eyes. The man was Jacqueline’s friend who claimed to be Chris Chavez!

She dived back out of sight as the door hung open an extra second for a last-minute passenger. Then it closed and Nancy watched the bank of numbered lights as the elevator moved up slowly. It made two stops, one of which was Millington’s floor!

If the man wasn’t the real fashion photographer, what was he doing there? Was he the thief who had stolen the designs?

 


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