Aloud she said, "Pm going to take a walk to Rocky Point. I want to see if I can turn up any clues to the identity of the person who attacked Shannon last night."
"I gather you still think the person who attacked Shannon mistook her for Angela." Mr. Tremain smiled. "You don't give up easily, do you, Nancy?"
"No, I don't," Nancy agreed.
"Good for you! Perseverance is a fine quality, but unless it's combined with a certain amount of caution, it can sometimes lead to disaster."
"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Tremain," Nancy said.
"Simply that going off by yourself on a sleuthing expedition could be dangerous, particularly in a situation like this," Mr. Tremain replied. "After what happened to the Mulcahey girl, I don't think it's safe for a young woman to wander around an isolated area like the Point alone."
"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Tremain, but honestly, Fm pretty good at taking care of myself," Nancy replied. "I have to be in my line of work."
"No doubt you are, but as your host, your safety is my responsibility. As I mentioned earlier, some very unsavory characters have been seen recently in the vicinity of Port Wel-hngton. One of them might have assaulted Shannon and could attack you as well. I can't prevent you from going to the Point, Nancy, but if you're determined to do this thing, I insist on driving you there."
Although the last thing Nancy wanted or needed was a baby-sitter, she couldn't think of a polite way to refuse Mr. Tremain's offer. Besides, the snow was coming down harder now. If she walked to the Point as she had originally intended, by the time she got there, it would be much more difficult to discover the evidence she sought.
Nancy smiled. "Thanks. I appreciate it." She followed Mr. Tremain around the side of the house to where his Mercedes was parked, then got in and buckled herself into the passenger seat. As Mr. Tremain drove through Sound-view's grounds, she was deep in thought. If only she could make sense of the shifting puzzle this
case had become! Although Nancy intended to follow up on the lead Sean had supplied when he told her about Jeremy, she doubted it would come to much. Meanwhile, she racked her brain, trying to think of what it was that had been nagging at her just before she fell asleep.
And all of a sudden it came to her.
That morning when Howard Tremain had referred to the attack on Shannon, he'd said that he doubted she would be able to identify her assailant because he had struck her from behind. But neither Nancy nor Ned had told him that. They had only remarked that Shannon had been hit on the head.
How could Mr. Tremain have known— unless he'd been there?
Chapter Thirteen
IT WAS SUCH an astonishing thought that Nancy was stunned. She felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her body, and her heart was pounding so wildly that she imagined Mr. Tremain must be able to hear it.
Get a grip! Nancy commanded herself. It's just not possible!
If Howard Tremain was at the Point the night before and had witnessed the attack on Shannon, he would certainly have said so. The alternative—that he himself had tried to murder her, thinking she was Angela—was too utterly fantastic to be considered, even for a moment.
There had to be some mistake! Maybe Nancy was confused about what she had heard. During her brief conversation with Mr. Tremain in the hall at Soundview that morning before she and Ned had gone to their rooms, she had been so tired that she was on the verge of collapse. In her exhaustion she might very well have misunderstood what Angela's stepfather said.
Closing her eyes tightly, Nancy forced herself to concentrate and call up the scene. In her mind's eye Nancy pictured herself, Ned, and Angela's stepfather as clearly as though they were on a video screen, and she heard every word Howard Tremain had spoken in his deep, resonant voice: "Unfortunately, even if the girl eventually comes to, she probably won't be able to identify her assailant, since she was struck from behind."
She shuddered. If there had been a mistake, it was Mr. Tremain's, not hers!
Angela's stepfather turned his attention from the road to glance at her. "Nancy, are you all right? You're shivering, and you don't look well. Perhaps we'd better turn back. You can pursue your investigation tomorrow when you're more rested."
Nancy opened her eyes. "I'm fine," she said, hoping she sounded normal.
But she wasn't fine at all. As she sat rigid in her seat and stared out the windshield, other vivid images flooded her mind. Nancy remembered Mr. Tremain's original dismissal of her theory about Angela's riding "accident," although later he seemed convinced that she was right. Had he been a little too eager to place the blame for the weakened saddle girth fiurst on Norris and then on Shannon? Also, just a short while ago in the stable, Sean told Nancy that Mr. Tremain had taken the girth away. Why had he done that? Was it because he didn't want anyone to discover that the straps had been cut?
And then there was his extreme reaction eariier that morning when Angela had come into the study. At the time Nancy saw no reason to doubt his word when he'd said that after spending hours searching for Angela, he was overcome with relief at her safe return. But now ...
While Nancy still believed that an enemy of Angela had attacked her, she had never for a moment suspected Angela's stepfather. But things had changed. Howard Tremain claimed he'd driven around looking for Angela. What if, instead of losing sight of Angela when he had driven after her as he said, Mr. Tremain had followed her to Rocky Point? If he was under the impression that it was Angela he had left for dead on the rocks below the pier, no wonder he'd been in a state of shock when she turned up alive and unharmed.
Nancy pressed both hands to her throbbing temples. Mr. Tremain loved Angela. Why would he wish her—or Shannon or anyone else—any harm?
And yet the fact remained that he knew how Shannon had been injured, which placed him at the scene of the crime, and he had said nothing about it. There simply had to be a reasonable explanation for his silence, Nancy thought, one that would set her mind at rest once and for all.
She decided there was no point in beating around the bush. Turning to Angela's stepfather, she said, "Mr. Tremain, there's something I need to ask you."
He smiled. "Please do."
Okay here goes, Nancy thought. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you were at Rocky Point last night?"
Mr. Tremain's eyebrows shot up. "Whatever gave you the idea that I was at the Point?"
"When we were talking about Shannon Mul-cahey this morning, you mentioned that someone had struck her from behind," Nancy said. "Unless you were there, you couldn't have known that."
They had left the estate by now, and as they drove along a narrow, winding road that paralleled the coastline, Nancy held her breath, waiting for Howard Tremain's reply. It was a long time in coming, and when he finally spoke, his words chilled her to the bone.
"You're right, of course," he said calmly. "I realized my error immediately, but I managed to convince myself that you were much too tired to pick up on it. That was very foolish of me. In spite of all Angela and her mother have told me about your sleuthing skills, it's obvious that I underestimated your talents. You were right about Starlight's saddle girth, too. Angela seems to lead a charming life. When I came home on Friday evening, I fully expected to discover that she'd had a fatal fall."
Mr. Tremain shook his head ruefully. ''You're a very clever girl, Nancy, perhaps too clever for your own good. And I thought I had covered my tracks so well! I was so sure that no one, not even the famous detective Nancy Drew, would ever figure out that it was Angela, not Shannon, who was supposed to die last night."
Nancy stared at him in horror. She couldn't have been more appalled if Dr. Jekyll had turned into Mr. Hyde right before her eyes.
"Then it was you," she whispered. "It was you all along! But why, Mr. Tremain? Why did you try to kill Angela?"
To her astonishment, the man actually smiled. It was the same warm, gentle smile that had charmed Nancy ever since they first met.
Now, however, the
re was a sinister edge to that smile that made her blood run cold.
"So many questions!" he said with an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I'll try to keep it brief." Still smiling, he leaned back in the driver's seat and focused on the road ahead.
"It's basically a matter of economics," he began. "Galaxy Computers, which as you know, my late partner Gordon Chamberlain founded many years ago, has not been as successful since I took over as it was when Gordon was at the helm. In fact, the company is on the verge of bankruptcy. This regrettable state of affairs, you understand," he added quickly, "is a result of the current unfavorable business climate, not from any fault of my own. If Galaxy goes under, however, my reputation in the business community will be utterly destroyed. I will be powerless, a failure. Naturally, I can't allow such a thing to happen."
Nancy had listened in growing confusion. "What does all this have to do with Angela?" she asked.
"I'm coming to that," he replied. "A large—a very large—infusion of cash will be needed within the next few months to keep Galaxy afloat, and Angela is a very rich young woman who will become even wealthier when she comes into her inheritance."
"You mean you'd actually murder your stepdaughter for money?" Nancy gasped. "You'd never get your hands on it, not in a million years! When I spoke to my father on the phone today, he told me that according to the terms of Mr. Chamberlain's will, if Angela dies before she turns twenty-one, her fortune goes to her mother."
Mr, Tremain nodded. "You're right. But you know, Felicia is so very ill, and her decline seems more rapid every day. . . ."He looked at Nancy gravely, raised an eyebrow, and then smiled.
The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, forming a picture that was far uglier than Nancy could ever have imagined. Howard Tremain was responsible for his own wife's illness—he must be poisoning her! She felt sick with revulsion. This was a nightmare—worse than a nightmare because it was real!
Desperate to grasp at any straw that might save her friend's life, as well as her mother's, Nancy said, "But if both Angela and her mother die under mysterious circumstances and you're the only person who benefits, suspicion is bound to fall on you, Mr. Tremain. What will happen to your precious reputation when you're indicted on a double murder charge?"
"Come now, Nancy. You of all people must
know that an indictment doesn't always result in a conviction, especially when the defendant can afford the finest lawyers in the country." Mr. Tremain glanced at her and grinned. "Who knows? Carson Drew might even be willing to take my case— after he recovers from the unfortunate death of his brilliant daughter!''
Chapter Fourteen
ALTHOUGH Nancy was trembling inside, she refused to give Howard Tremain the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. Three lives were at stake—Angela's, Felicia Tremain's, and her own. She mustn't lose her cool.
How could she have been so wrong about Howard Tremain? Nancy wondered. It wasn't surprising that Angela and her mother had been taken in by his pose of loving stepfather and husband. After all, he had been Gordon Chamberlain's partner and a friend of the family for years. But Nancy's experience in dealing with criminals, thieves, and liars should have made her more wary. If only she'd seen what a monster was hiding behind that kindly mask!
Well, he's ripped off the mask now, she thought, and if I don't play my cards right, that handsome, evil face may be the last thing I'll ever see!
Nancy was furious at herself for being so gullible, and her anger sharpened her wits. She had learned that all egomaniacs loved to talk about themselves, and Howard Tremain was no exception. If she could just keep him talking long enough, she might be able to figure out how to get away.
Matching his casual tone, Nancy said, "Exactly how do you intend to get rid of me, Mr. Tremain? No matter what method you choose, you'll never get away with it, you know."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," he said. "Felicia, Angela, and your friend Ned are ail still asleep. As for Parker and the other servants, I gave them the afternoon off to go Christmas shopping in the village. Nobody could have seen us leave the house together. The first part of the statement I'll make to the police after I 'discover' your body is absolutely true. I'll inform them that when I looked into your room and found it empty, I became concerned. You left the door open, by the way," he added. "I hope you realize that I would never intrude on the privacy of my guests."
"How considerate!" Nancy muttered.
Howard Tremain continued, ignoring Nancy's sarcasm. "Then I'll say that I remembered hearing you mention that you intended to pursue your investigation of the attack on Shannon Mulcahey, and I guessed that you had returned to Rocky Point to search for clues. Convinced that the unfortunate Mulcahey girl had been attacked by some deranged drifter who might still be lurking somev^here near the scene, I feared for your safety and drove there myself. To my great distress, I arrived too late to save your life."
"Then you're planning a repeat performance of last night?"
"Not quite. Practice makes perfect, or so I've heard. Pve learned from my previous mistakes. You'll be unconscious when you fall from the end of the pier where the water is deep, and then you'll drown."
While Howard Tremain was speaking, Nancy had been frantically scanning the road ahead for another vehicle. If she saw one, her plan was to get the driver's attention by seizing the wheel and forcing the Mercedes to swerve into the stone wall that ran along the roadside. Nancy was sure no motorist would be able to ignore an accident that took place right in front of him, and once they were no longer alone, Angela's stepfather would be unable to carry out his murderous scheme. The risk of injury in a crash was minor compared to what he had in mind for her.
But no car came. The road was deserted, and the last house Nancy had seen was the cottage of Soundview's caretaker more than a mile back. She was completely on her own, trapped with the man who wanted her dead.
They were now approaching the turnoff to Rocky Point. As Howard slowed down to make the turn, Nancy took a desperate chance. She reached for the door handle, intending to make a run for it, but although she struggled with all her might, the door refused to open.
"Oh, Nancy," Mr. Tremain said. "I once underestimated you, and now it seems you've underestimated me. The locks on these doors can be controlled by the driver, a safety feature that I never had occasion to use until now."
He pulled off the unpaved lane and stopped the Mercedes in a grove of bare, twisted trees on the edge of the bluff overlooking the sound. As he got put and came around to the passenger side, Nancy tensed every muscle, ready to spring at him the instant he unlocked her door. Howard Tremain was strong and physically fit, but so was Nancy, and she was also less than half his age. .AJthough she had no weapon, Nancy was an expert in self-defense. If she could catch Tremain off guard this time, she was sure she could immobiUze him with a swift blow.
When his key turned in the lock, Nancy flung open the door and leaped out, primed for the attack, but Tremain was too quick for her. He grabbed her upraised arm, wrenching it behind her back so viciously that Nancy couldn't suppress a sharp cry of pain.
"I'm disappointed in you, Nancy. That was very foolish," he growled. "For your own sake, I strongly advise you not to attempt anything like it again, or your death will be a much more lingering and agonizing one than I had originally intended.''
There was no longer any trace of courtliness or humor in his manner, and as Nancy gazed into Howard Tremain's glittering eyes, she fought off a surge of pure panic. The man wasn't merely ruthless; he was totally insane.
Still holding on to her arm, Tremain shoved Nancy roughly ahead of him down the path that sloped from the top of the bluff to the beach. She slipped and slithered on the frozen ground, almost blinded by snow blown by an icy wind that had suddenly sprung up. It whipped across the sound, churning its waters into huge, ocean-size waves that broke on the rocky shore and battered the decrepit pier with a sound like thunder.
Once they were on the beach, Tremain forced
Nancy in the direction of the pier. She knew it would be useless to struggle—Angela's step-father was a lot stronger than she'd thought. Although she'd failed so far, Nancy's only hope of survival lay in outsmarting him.
Nancy and Howard Tremain stepped onto the pier. The crashing waves drenched them both with spray. It made the rotting boards and crumbling masonry underfoot so treacherous that Nancy stumbled several times.
And suddenly she had an idea.
It's now or never, she thought grimly.
She stumbled again, deliberately this time, and fell to her knees, pulling Tremain down with her. Taken completely by surprise, he released his grasp on her arm. Nancy scrambled to her feet only seconds before he did, but those seconds were all she needed to give her the advantage. When Tremain lunged at her, his face contorted with rage and his powerful hands reaching for her throat, she was ready for him.
With a quick shift of her weight, Nancy deftly threw him off balance. She then turned to face him squarely, and with a special twist of the waist and arms that she'd learned from her Japanese instructor in martial arts, she turned him over her shoulder and flung him to the ground.
Tremain lay very still. Nancy knelt down beside him, and when she checked his vital signs, she found that he was merely unconscious. Next, she searched the pockets of his heavy sheepskin coat and found his car keys. She would have to drive the Mercedes back to Soundview to call the police—there was no phone in Howard's car.
While Nancy was fighting for her life, she had been unaware of anything except the man who menaced her. Now that the nightmare was over and she was safe at last, she noticed that the snow had almost stopped, but the wind was still blowing. Nancy shivered violently. Although her jacket had somewhat protected her, her jeans were soaked from the crashing waves, and her hair was dripping. She was freezing cold. The arm Howard Tremain had twisted throbbed as she stood up and started walking back across the snowy beach.