“It doesn’t seem to,” Nancy admitted. “But it could have something to do with Christopher’s disappearance. I’m wondering whether the change in payments means that Bob has some hold over him. Or maybe Bob just decided that Scott’s work wasn’t worth any more than that. In that case, maybe Christopher was unhappy with the drop in his payments and decided to go to a new gallery.”
“If Bob was blackmailing Chris, why pay him at all?” Cynthia asked. She still sounded furious. “Or why not sell his paintings to ART? Bob was obviously paying Christopher something, because all the checks are made out to him.”
“I don’t know, but there’s a trail of money here, and I’m going to follow it. Do you know where Bob keeps canceled checks?” Nancy asked.
Cynthia shook her head regretfully. “I really never paid any attention to the way Bob ran my business. I’m beginning to see what a mistake that was.”
Together Nancy and Cynthia flipped through Bob’s files for old checks but with no success. After a few minutes Cynthia snapped her fingers.
“You know, there’s an easier way to go about this. I know which bank Christopher uses,” Cynthia offered. “And one of the managers there is a friend of mine. Her name is Ann James. If I called her, I’m sure she’d help.”
“That’d be great,” Nancy said. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Cynthia returned. “When I see that rat Bob Tercero, I’m not only going to fire him, I’m going to press charges!”
With a decided nod, Cynthia picked up the phone and called the bank.
“Ann, how are you? I wonder if you could do me a huge favor?
“There’s a young woman here I’d like you to talk to,” she continued, after getting a favorable response. “Her name is Nancy Drew, and she’s conducting a sort of investigation into Christopher Scott’s affairs. I’m all mixed up in it, I’m afraid; it has to do with Nisus’s payments to him.”
Cynthia thanked Ann and turned the telephone over to Nancy.
Nancy checked with the bank manager to make sure that all the gallery’s payments had indeed been deposited into Scott’s bank account. They had, but she had expected that. It would be too easy for an investigator to discover any discrepancies if the payments had not been made to that account.
“Can you check withdrawals?” Nancy asked the bank manager. “I am especially interested in the month of February, and also any activity from two weeks ago. Are there any large withdrawals?”
Nancy could hear computer keys clicking as Ann looked up her information. “Nothing large or unusual since February, really,” Ann said at last. “And nothing at all in the last few weeks.”
Nothing? Nancy thought hard for a minute. “I’m sorry, but could we go back to the payments, then? Is there any way to check whether Christopher endorsed the checks himself?”
“Not from here,” Ann said, “but if Cynthia has the canceled checks, she could look for you.”
“Yes, we thought of that,” Nancy said with a frustrated sigh. “I guess we’ll have to keep searching for them.”
“But remember,” Ann cautioned, “even if he didn’t sign them, it probably doesn’t mean anything. We don’t require an endorsing signature if the check is made out to the person who holds the account. All we need is the account number on the back of the check.”
Nancy was frustrated. “Is there anything else?” she asked. “Anything that’s unusual at all?”
“Well, there is one thing, but it’s not unusual,” Ann began, “and I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“What is it?” Nancy asked quickly. “At this point, anything would help.”
“As I said, it won’t help you now because Nicholas is dead,” the bank manager said. “But while he was alive, Nicholas had power of attorney over his uncle’s accounts.”
Chapter
Fourteen
NANCY DREW IN her breath. So Nicholas had unlimited access to his uncle’s money! “Can you find out how often Nicholas withdrew money from the account?” she asked.
“Not with automated teller machines,” Ann said. “Anyone with a card can take money out at any time. There’s no way of knowing which withdrawals were made by Nicholas and which by Christopher.”
Nancy thanked her for all her help and hung up. “That about wraps it up,” she told Cynthia. “I think I know what’s going on. I don’t have time to explain now, but I’ll let you know how it turns out!”
Nancy raced home. As she hurried in the door, she heard the phone ringing.
“Nancy, is that you?” George poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide. “You have a telephone call.”
Nancy reached over the kitchen counter and picked up the phone. “Hello?” she said breathlessly. Whoever it was, Nancy would have to call back later. She had a lot to do this afternoon!
“Hello, yourself,” Ned Nickerson’s voice greeted her warmly. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Ned!” Nancy’s heart leapt. “How are you? I haven’t heard from you in ages!”
“Well, that’s about to change because I have a plane ticket in my hand that will get me to the Hamptons in two weeks.”
“A plane ticket?” Nancy repeated. Ned was coming in two weeks? She sat down abruptly as she realized what that meant. What on earth was she going to do about Sasha?
“Well, don’t sound so excited. Is there a problem?” Ned asked. His voice was a little hesitant.
Now she’d hurt his feelings! “No, no problem,” Nancy said forcefully. “It’ll be great to see you.”
“It doesn’t sound that way,” Ned said. “What’s wrong, Nan?”
The concern in his voice made Nancy realize how much she loved him. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I’m just in the middle of a mystery, that’s all.”
“Oh, no.” Ned groaned playfully. “Then I’ll never see you! Forget it, I won’t come.”
“No, please come. I’ll be done by then,” Nancy promised.
“You know I was only kidding. You couldn’t keep me away if you tried,” Ned said cheerfully. “I really miss you, Nan.”
“I miss you, too,” Nancy replied, her eyes filling with tears.
“Nancy, are you okay?” The worry crept back into Ned’s voice. “You sound like you’re going to cry.”
“Of course I’m okay,” she insisted. “I just love you, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” Ned asked. “That’s a lot. I love you, too, Nan. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come see you sooner.”
“It’s all right. I know you’d be here if I needed you.”
“I won’t let anything stop me this time,” he vowed.
When Nancy hung up the phone, she was shaking. “You guys can come in now,” she called to Bess and George, who were hovering in the hall.
“We weren’t eavesdropping,” Bess said defensively as the cousins settled themselves around the kitchen table.
“Really, we weren’t,” George put in. “We were just, um, nearby.”
“Well, you heard it anyway,” Nancy said. “What do I do now?”
“What do you want to do?” Bess asked.
“I don’t know!” Nancy sank into a chair. “Sasha is so romantic, and when I’m with him, well, I guess I can forget everything, including Ned. Does that sound horrible?”
“Not at all,” Bess said. “This has been a summer full of romance.”
“But when I heard Ned’s voice, it was like . . . like being home somehow. I don’t know how to describe it. I really do miss him.”
“It’s a tough one,” George agreed. “They’re both great guys. I guess you have to go with your heart.”
Bess glared at her cousin. “Honestly, George, that’s the problem!” Bess exclaimed. “She doesn’t know where that is!”
“She’ll know,” George said simply. “When she can see both of them together.”
“I hope so,” Nancy said, “because I sure don’t know right now.”
The three girls sank into
silence.
“What time is it?” Nancy asked suddenly.
“Just after five,” George answered.
“I’d better get moving. Are you guys ready to meet our mysterious model?”
“So soon?” Bess asked. “I thought you said six.”
“I did. But I want to stop at the gallery first.”
“How’s it coming?” George asked. “I feel like I’ve missed most of what’s been going on.”
Nancy filled her in. “The key is in the paintings,” she said. “But it looks like Diana Spitzer is the only one who can confirm everything. There’s one more thing I have to check out with Cynthia Gray.”
“What’s that?” George asked.
“Something I overheard at the opening party for the Scott show,” Nancy said mysteriously.
“Nancy!” Bess wailed.
“Okay, okay.” Nancy threw up her hands. “I need her opinion on whether Christopher Scott’s painting has changed over the past six months. How do you like that for an answer?”
“No good,” George declared. “Tell us the rest.”
“I can’t until I talk to Diana. All I have now are vague ideas,” Nancy said. “We’ll find out the truth together.”
Bess and George offered to go with Nancy to the Nisus Gallery, but she refused, saying it was only a quick question and she didn’t want to stay too long. The three girls drove into town and Nancy dropped Bess and George off at Bess’s favorite boutique. They made plans to meet at the town square a little before six to confront the model together.
“Don’t go near her till I get there,” Nancy warned as she said goodbye to them. “If I’m right, she may spook easily.”
When Nancy got to the gallery, she found the place dark and the front door ajar. That’s odd, she thought uneasily. The gallery was usually open until six. And if it had closed early, why hadn’t someone locked up?
“Hello? Cynthia?” Nancy called. She turned on the light switch and walked in. “Anyone here?”
Nancy walked down the hall to Cynthia’s office and tapped on the door. “Cynthia?” Nancy pulled open the door, which swung out into the hall.
Just then Bob Tercero’s door flew open. “Well, if it isn’t our little detective!” Bob said sarcastically, trapping Nancy between him and the open door. “Here to stir up more trouble?
“Stay right where you are,” he warned as Nancy tried to step around him. “I’ve been fired, so I don’t have any reason to be nice to you anymore.”
“You’ve only been fired,” Nancy said defiantly, “not arrested, so it looks to me like you got off easy. You won’t be so lucky if you try to stop me from leaving.”
Bob just grinned. “Look at her,” he said to no one in particular. “A little girl playing detective. But you found the wrong things. You couldn’t figure out what happened to Christopher even when I handed you the clues!”
“Is that what you think?” Nancy asked angrily. “It might interest you to know I found the Vanity. Someone stole it before you could!”
Bob’s face darkened. “Where is it?”
Nancy returned his stare. “I don’t have it.”
“I’m warning you,” Bob said, advancing on her. “I’ll use force.” He grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back. “Now tell me who has it.”
“You’re hurting me!” Nancy cried, stalling for time. How was she going to get out of the gallery? she thought wildly.
“Okay, okay,” she gasped. “I’ll tell you if you just let me go.”
Bob released her arm, shoving her into Cynthia’s office. He closed the door.
“Put your hands on your head and sit on the floor, your back up against the wall,” he directed. “Stretch your legs flat out in front of you.”
Nancy obeyed slowly. She thought she had a good chance of beating him if it came to a struggle, but she decided not to risk it if she didn’t have to. If she just did what he said, maybe she could defuse the situation before anyone got hurt.
“Now tell me who has the painting,” Bob said.
“Diana Spitzer has it, of course,” Nancy lied. “Who else? I sent her into hiding.”
“So, Diana’s back? She would have been a lot better off if she’d stayed away.
“Well, Nancy,” Bob said with contempt, “you were right and I was wrong. You do know too much.” He picked up the small bronze statue Cynthia had placed on a pedestal near the door. “You didn’t take my warning seriously. I think it’s time I got serious about removing you from the scene.”
Bob advanced on her. Nancy tried to rise, but he was too fast for her. One arm snaked out and pushed her back to the floor.
Bob lunged at her, the statue raised above his head. She rolled away, but the blow still caught the side of her head.
“That’s for lying,” Nancy heard Bob say just before she blacked out.
Chapter
Fifteen
THROUGH A HAZE Nancy heard someone talking.
“Nancy? Wake up.” Nancy felt something caress her face. “Please wake up.”
Ned? Nancy thought groggily. Was Ned here? The voice was deep and tender, like his. But the accent was different. . . . Nancy forced her eyes to open.
Sasha’s face swam before her eyes.
“Sasha? What are you doing here?” she mumbled. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth.
“Nancy, you are all right!” Sasha burst out, worry easing from his face. “I thought you were dead.”
Nancy sat up, wincing in pain. She put her hand to her temple and groaned. “What’s going on? What time is it?”
“It is six o’clock,” Sasha said, cradling Nancy against him. “I ran into Bess and George on the street. They were worried when you did not show up. I offered to come here to look for you. Bess was going to call Tommy to meet them at the town square. She and George seemed to think they might need someone with a car.”
“The town square!” Nancy said, pulling herself forward. “Sasha, we’ve got to get to Diana.”
“No way!” Sasha declared. “You are in no shape to go anywhere.”
“We have to,” Nancy insisted. “Bob Tercero was here, and now Diana Spitzer is in danger. I told him she has the Vanity painting. He’s desperate. If he sees her in town, who knows what he’ll do!”
Nancy struggled to her feet with Sasha hovering anxiously over her. “I’ll be okay,” she assured him, one hand on her head. “Could you find my purse? I’ve got some aspirin in it.”
Sasha brought the aspirin and some water from the bathroom. “Thanks,” Nancy said gratefully, gulping it down. “Now call the police. Tell them to arrest Bob Tercero. I’ll go sit in the car.”
“What should I say are the charges?”
“Anything and everything!” Nancy replied. “Thievery, assault—and let’s just hope that’s all.”
“Nancy,” he protested as he headed for the phone, “wait for the police. You are in no condition to drive.”
“I’ll be okay,” Nancy repeated, gritting her teeth as her head throbbed. “Anyway, we don’t have any choice.”
Nancy waited in the car, massaging her temples gently. Bob Tercero had said, “That’s for lying,” she recalled. What did he mean? She watched as Sasha stepped out of the gallery and closed the door behind him. Well, she thought, when the police picked Bob up, she’d have plenty of time to ask him about his cryptic remark.
Nancy drove to the town square as fast as her pounding head would allow. As they pulled up, George raced up to the car.
“She’s gone,” George said, leaning down to the window on the driver’s side. “You said not to approach her, so Bess and Tommy followed her in Tommy’s car.” She looked at Nancy. “What on earth happened to you?”
“I had a ‘conversation’ with Bob Tercero,” Nancy said, touching her head lightly. “But I ducked. I think I’m okay,”
George knew better than to argue. “Whatever you say. I’ll drive if you don’t feel up to it.
“Bess said she’d call the house
as soon as she knows where Diana is headed,” George explained, opening the driver’s side door. Sasha climbed into the backseat, and Nancy slid over to the passenger side gratefully. “Eloise is home manning the phones,” George added.
“I’ll call your aunt to see if Bess has checked in yet,” Sasha volunteered. “Just pull over to that pay phone.”
While Sasha was gone, Nancy told George what had happened. “We called the police, so they’ll be on the lookout for Bob,” she concluded.
Sasha returned. “Bess did call,” he said, climbing in and slamming the car door. “Diana stopped at the gallery, and now she is heading toward New York City. She’s in a white Volvo sedan. I wrote down her license plate number.”
“Bravo for Bess!” Nancy declared. “Can we catch up with them?”
George gunned the engine. The little car raced through the narrow streets. They passed the gallery and headed out of town. The asphalt road got straighter and wider. “George, I hope you’re not breaking any speed laws,” Nancy said to her friend.
George raised her eyebrows. “Not yet, but I will be if I keep accelerating,” she replied.
George caught up with Bess and Tommy several miles out of town. She pulled into the left lane beside Tommy’s car. Bess waved and pointed forward. George pulled ahead.
Thank goodness there were no other cars on the road, Nancy thought. They were racing down a wide straightaway, heading for the next town.
A few minutes later the back of a white Volvo appeared in the distance. “We’ve got to stop her,” Nancy urged. “I have to talk to her before Bob Tercero finds her.”
George put her foot down hard on the gas pedal. “Hang on. I hope there are no police cars around!”
As they drew up behind Diana’s car, the white Volvo took off in front of them.
“Some people just do not want help, do they?” Sasha said in disgust.
“She’s scared,” Nancy said. “She doesn’t know we’re friends.”
“Well, she’s not going to know unless she stops,” George declared. “I can keep up with her, but I’m not going to force her off the road!”
The two cars raced along the road at high speed, George right on Diana’s tail. Tommy and Bess were no longer in sight. Slow down, Diana, slow down! Nancy pleaded silently.