“Have you come to look at my collection?” Mr. Brown asked.
Nancy turned to face him. “No,” she said. “But I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“More questions,” Mr. Brown said with a wry grin.
“I’m sorry,” Nancy said. “This won’t take long. Can you tell me where you got the brooch? We really don’t know that much about it.”
Mr. Brown waved a hand toward the back of the house. “Do you know how many pieces pass through here every week?” he asked. “I couldn’t possibly remember where I got each and every one.”
“Well, you must keep some sort of record,” Nancy pressed. “Could you possibly look it up? It might be an important clue.”
Mr. Brown walked to the back of the room and opened a wooden filing cabinet. “I remember that the brooch belonged to an elderly woman,” he mumbled as he riffled through the files. Finally he pulled out a manila folder. “Here it is. According to this, it belonged to a woman named Agnes Thompson. She died several months before the piece was brought to me.”
“When was that?” Nancy asked.
“A few months back,” Mr. Brown said vaguely. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“And that’s all you can tell us?” Nancy asked.
Brown shrugged. “Where I get a piece is not as important to me as selling it.”
There was a jingling of bells, and a young man and woman entered. They wore business suits and carried matching briefcases.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Brown said. He rushed past Nancy to greet the couple. “May I help you?”
Mr. Brown followed closely behind the pair as they wandered around the store.
“He’s not very helpful, is he?” Bess whispered to Nancy, then said, “These prices are just as outrageous as the ones we saw at the expo.”
George shook her head. “I bet he doesn’t do much business with his things costing this much.”
Seeing that Mr. Brown was occupied, Nancy put her plan into motion. “Wait here,” she told Bess and George in a low voice. “I’ll be right back.”
She had noticed that Mr. Brown had left the folder open on his desk. Pretending to be interested in a rocking chair right next to the desk, Nancy walked across the room.
When Mr. Brown followed the couple behind a tall dresser, Nancy shifted her gaze to the folder. It lay open, revealing several sheets of paper. Nancy didn’t dare risk moving the papers, so she took in as much as she could see. A paper beneath the top one stuck out a little on one side, and Nancy saw the name Thompson written on it.
Then she took a closer look at the paper on top. When she saw what it was, she was barely able to suppress her excitement.
It was a fifty-thousand-dollar insurance policy for the rose brooch. That wasn’t so strange—Mr. Brown had said it was worth that much. What interested Nancy more was the date typed at the top of the page. It wasn’t from a few months ago, when Mr. Brown had said he got the brooch. It was dated just a few days before the antiques expo.
That seemed a little too coincidental. If the brooch is so valuable, Nancy thought, why would Mr. Brown wait until right before the expo to insure it . . . unless he knew it was going to be stolen? He could collect fifty thousand dollars if someone took the brooch. Maybe Russell Brown had arranged the robbery himself!
8
Break-in!
Nancy walked casually back to Bess and George. “Let’s go,” she said in an excited whisper, giving her friends a look that said she would explain once they were outside.
“Thanks, Mr. Brown,” Nancy called, opening the door.
The antique dealer turned around as the three girls left. “Let me know if you come up with anything, Nancy,” he called to her.
Once outside, Nancy didn’t head for the car but walked toward the back of the building.
“Where are you going?” George asked.
Nancy put a finger to her lips. “I’m looking for an orange van,” she whispered.
Bess gasped. “You think it was Mr. Brown?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you in the car,” Nancy said.
While Bess and George went down the path to the car, Nancy circled the farmhouse, looking for a garage, a clump of trees, or anything else that might conceal a van. There was nothing except flat, dry ground and a gray sedan parked in the driveway. Disappointed, Nancy followed the drive to the road and got into the back seat of George’s car.
“What did you find?” George asked, turning around in the driver’s seat to look at Nancy.
“Not a van,” Nancy admitted, “but you’ll never believe what was on Brown’s desk.” She described the insurance policy.
“You mean he wanted the brooch stolen?” Bess asked.
“Very possibly,” Nancy replied, “though I’m still not ruling out a real robbery.”
“What about the orange van?” George asked.
Nancy sighed. “It’s not parked here. But Brown could have hidden it somewhere else. It’s also possible that he’s working with whoever was driving the van.”
“So now we have three definite suspects and a question mark,” George said.
“Exactly,” said Nancy with a nod. She opened her notebook and added Russell Brown’s name to her list. “Brown could be working with Lydia or Kimberly, or with someone else. If only I could remember where I saw that orange van before. . . .”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” George said. “I have the impression I’ve seen more than one of them. And remember those green stripes along the side? I keep thinking they’re a logo for a company or something.”
Nancy nodded. “Right. This is going to bother me until we figure it out.”
George started the car and drove to Nancy’s house to drop her off. “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” she asked.
Nancy leaned forward over the front seat. “I think it’s time we paid Lydia a visit. And I’d like to spend some time tracking down the orange van. But in all the excitement today, we’ve forgotten the main thing.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Bess said, grimacing. “ ‘The clock is ticking, but not for long.’ ”
“Right,” Nancy said. “Tonight could be the night.”
George looked a little worried. “You’ll call us if there’s any trouble, right?”
“Thanks for the support,” Nancy said, “but there are two police officers sitting in an unmarked car right across the street.” She nodded toward the dark blue sedan. “Speaking of which, I’m going to check and see how they’re doing. Thanks for the ride.”
“Good luck tonight, Nancy,” Bess called as Nancy got out of the car.
Nancy waved as George’s car took off. Checking first to see that no one was watching, she crossed the street and approached the unmarked police car.
Sergeant Rudinsky, bleary-eyed and wearing Bermuda shorts and a tank top, sat behind the wheel. Next to her, Officer Brody sat sipping coffee out of a paper cup.
The sergeant’s head jerked up when she saw Nancy. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, relieved.
“I was just wondering if you’d seen anything,” Nancy said.
Sergeant Rudinsky grabbed her notebook off the front seat and read from it quickly. “At four forty-seven P.M., a Caucasian female, late sixties, gray hair, no visible scars or birthmarks, pulled up in a late-model station wagon with bags of groceries. Since the female had keys to the house, we assumed she was a resident.”
Nancy laughed. “That was Hannah, our housekeeper.”
Suddenly Officer Brody threw himself across the front seat and waved Nancy away from the car. “Someone’s coming!” he cried.
Startled, Nancy turned as a second car pulled into her driveway and a man in his forties got out. “That’s my dad,” she said, laughing. “I assure you he’s authorized to enter the house. So when is your shift over?”
“Midnight,” answered Sergeant Rudinsky. “Then Walker and Daniel take over. They’re a good team.”
“I know,” Nancy said,
remembering the efficient officers who’d helped her on the bridge earlier that afternoon.
Officer Brody looked at Nancy with curiosity. “You sure seem to know a lot about the police department.”
Nancy tried to explain. “I’ve lived in River Heights a long time,” she told Officer Brody. “Detective work is a hobby of mine.” Then she turned to leave. “Thanks for your help,” she added, and went into her house.
As Nancy set the table for dinner she explained to her father and Hannah why the police officers were guarding the house.
“Here we go again,” Hannah said as she tossed the pasta salad. “Nancy, after all your cases, I still don’t know whether you go looking for trouble or it finds you. You’re telling me we’re supposed to sit in the house and wait for someone to break in?”
Carson Drew sat down at one end of the dining room table and helped himself to a piece of chicken. “I don’t feel too comfortable about this, either,” he said to his daughter.
Nancy put down a basket of rolls. “The police are right outside,” she said. “They’ll probably spot the intruder before we do. But just in case, we can call 911, and the station will radio the officers. We’ll be protected either way.”
“Why don’t I feel reassured?” Hannah asked, shaking her head.
Nancy looked back and forth from Hannah to her father. They were both worried about the case already, so Nancy decided not to tell them about the accident on the River Heights Bridge. Besides, everything had turned out all right.
“It’s a good thing the brooch is in the safe,” said Carson, “in case the thief does manage to steal the clock.”
Hannah frowned. “I’d just as soon have the clock out of the house,” she said. “It started you off in this detective business, and ever since, you’ve been in one dangerous situation after another.”
“We always end up okay,” Nancy said, giving the housekeeper a warm smile.
“So far, but who knows if your luck will run out?”
Without thinking, Nancy said, “That’s funny. Bess said the same thing today.” Then she remembered Bess had been talking about the bridge incident, the one she hadn’t mentioned to her father and Hannah, and Nancy fell suddenly silent.
“What are you talking about?” Hannah asked with alarm.
“Er, nothing,” Nancy said, pushing her plate away. “I’m going up to my room to wait.”
Hannah looked at Nancy’s plate. “You haven’t touched your chicken.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Nancy said. “I’ll take my plate up to my room and nibble tonight while I’m waiting.”
Hannah sighed. “If you get hungry later, there’s a fresh-baked chocolate cake in the refrigerator. I made it from scratch.”
“Mmmm, my favorite.” Nancy rose from her chair and picked up her plate with one hand. With the other, she gave Hannah a squeeze. “You’re the greatest, Hannah,” she said. Then she blew her father a kiss. “And you’re not so bad, either.”
Plate in hand, Nancy took the stairs to her room two steps at a time. She put the plate on her desk and glanced at the old clock on her dresser. The clock, now running smoothly, showed that the time was seven-fifteen. The wait would probably be several hours at least. Nancy flipped open her pad and studied her notes. She hoped her mind would make some connection it hadn’t before, but there were still so many missing pieces.
Sometime later Nancy raised her head from the desk and rubbed her eyes. She must have dozed off. After all she’d been through that day, it wasn’t surprising. Nancy looked at the mantel clock and saw that it was ten. She should get ready for bed or at least make it look as if she were asleep.
Without changing out of her jeans and T-shirt, Nancy got into bed, pulled the sheet over her, and turned out the light. The thief wasn’t going to break in if he or she thought someone in the house was still awake.
Nancy awoke again, suddenly, thinking she’d heard a loud noise. She wasn’t sure whether she’d actually heard the sound or just dreamed it. Sitting up slowly in her bed, she listened carefully. The only sound was the crickets chirping outside her window.
Then she heard it again. A bumping sound, as if someone had tripped over a piece of furniture down-stairs. The thief had broken in! Not daring to turn on her light, Nancy fumbled in the dark for her phone.
She had just managed to grab the phone cord when she heard the sound of footsteps creaking on the stairs. Where were the police? Nancy thought frantically. Hadn’t they noticed the break-in? The footsteps grew louder and nearer. Nancy could hear her heart pounding in her chest. The thief was heading right for her room!
9
Midnight Getaway
Hoping it wasn’t too late, Nancy pulled the pushbutton phone toward her. She lifted the receiver as quietly as she could, grateful that she’d chosen a model with glow-in-the-dark numbers. Hurriedly she pressed 911 and waited, her heart still pounding.
“Emergency assistance, may I help you?” said a loud male voice.
Nancy heard another creak on the staircase. The thief was getting closer.
“Hello,” she whispered. “This is Nancy Drew in River Heights. Someone has broken into my house.”
“Emergency assistance,” the voice repeated. “Is anyone there?”
He couldn’t hear her, but Nancy was afraid to speak any louder.
Officer Brody wasn’t, however. At that moment, his voice came blaring over a loudspeaker outside. “We know you’re in there,” he called. “The house is surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”
Nancy heard the footsteps retreat quickly down the stairs, followed by another thud as the intruder hit a piece of furniture. There was silence. Nancy replaced the receiver in its cradle and waited. Since she didn’t know whether the thief was still inside the house, she didn’t dare leave her room. He or she might have a weapon.
After several minutes, Nancy couldn’t bear to keep still any longer. Creeping toward her bedroom door, she slowly turned the knob and pulled the door open a few inches. Her eyes, already used to the dark, made out the shadowy stairway. A shaft of moonlight, shining through the dining room window, made a diagonal stripe across the front hall floor. What was happening? Where was the thief ?
Suddenly Officer Brody’s voice broke the stillness again. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he warned.
Sergeant Rudinsky must have grabbed the microphone, because her voice now rang out loud and clear. “You are in violation of the U.S. Penal Code for criminal trespassing, breaking and entering, attempted robbery, and resisting arrest. If you don’t stop right now, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.”
Nancy jumped as a gunshot shattered the night.
Then the whole house sprang to life. Nancy saw Hannah’s bedroom light come on, immediately followed by Carson’s. Fully dressed, the housekeeper and Nancy’s father ran into the upstairs hall, where Nancy was already standing.
“I heard the footsteps,” Hannah said anxiously. “Do you think they caught him?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy said, leading the way down the stairs.
“Don’t go outside,” her father warned. “There could be more shooting.”
Nancy rushed to the dining-room window and peered out into the street, followed by her father and Hannah. By the light of the moon and the streetlights, they could see the police officers in front of their car. But there was no intruder in handcuffs.
Going to the front of the house, Carson Drew opened the door. “Is it safe to come out?” he called.
“Don’t worry,” Sergeant Rudinsky yelled back. “The intruder left the area. It’s safe to come out now.”
“What happened?” Nancy asked, as she, her father, and Hannah joined the officers.
“It’s more like what didn’t happen,” the sergeant muttered. Officer Brody looked crushed, and his partner turned to Nancy. “We saw the suspect approach the house from the back. He entered the house by way of a side window. If my partner hadn’t spoken so soon, we might hav
e trapped him inside.”
Sergeant Rudinsky faced Brody. “Why did you say that the house was surrounded?” she asked. “We hadn’t even radioed for backup yet.”
“I thought if we scared him, he’d be too afraid to come out,” Officer Brody said, looking down at the ground.
“Not only were you mistaken,” the sergeant told him, “but you also violated procedure.”
“Wait a minute,” Nancy said to Officer Brody. “You said ‘him.’ Does that mean you at least got a look at the suspect? Was it a man?”
“We don’t know,” Sergeant Rudinsky answered briskly. “Those bushes near the house made it difficult to see the suspect clearly. It could have been a woman.”
Nancy sighed in frustration. After all the trouble they’d gone to, they didn’t know anything more than they had before.
The sound of engines caused Nancy to turn. Two police cars were cruising slowly up the street, their headlights out. They stopped half a block away, and several dark figures emerged from each car.
As the figures approached, Nancy recognized Chief McGinnis’s familiar silhouette. When she waved, the police chief hesitated. Sergeant Rudinsky, also spotting the chief, gave him a hand signal, and the chief came forward.
“He got away?” Chief McGinnis asked as he and the other officers rushed forward. Nancy recognized Officers Walker and Daniel among them.
Sergeant Rudinsky nodded.
“How did this happen?” the police chief asked.
Nancy saw Officer Brody glance nervously toward his partner. He was probably waiting to see if she would reveal his mistake.
“There was a lot of confusion,” Sergeant Rudinsky said, “and it was dark near the house. The thief managed to get away before we could stop him . . . or her.”
Officer Brody gave his partner a grateful look.
“Did the thief get the brooch?” the police chief asked.
“No,” Nancy answered. “The thief never even got near the clock. The brooch is inside my dad’s safe.”
“Good. That means we have another chance,” Chief McGinnis said. “But we’re going to have to play it differently this time.”