“I know,” the agent said. “We’ve already been alerted about Slesak and Colville.” He led them quickly to the back of the hotel.
The kitchen was huge and modern, with stainless steel counters, tiled walls, and what looked like hundreds of workers. Nancy glanced around anxiously, trying to pick Jacques out from the sea of white-coated chefs.
“Nancy!”
She spun around. Jacques was blinking at her in astonishment.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Jacques, we need to talk to you. Privately.”
He looked from Nancy to Ned, then back again. “What is it?”
“Paul Slesak and a cohort of his, someone named Colville, kidnapped us last night and tried to drown us in a lake.”
“What?”
“They’re involved in something big—something that has to do with this dinner. I’d say they’re transferring political secrets, wouldn’t you?”
Jacques glanced around, then pulled her and Ned to the side of the room, away from listening ears. “Why should I know?”
“Because you stole Slesak’s recipes from him,” Ned put in, watching Bonet’s face closely. “You obviously knew something was going on.”
Nancy held her breath. For a moment she didn’t think Jacques was going to confide in them. Then he smiled crookedly and muttered, “So you found me out. Guess I’m not as clever as I thought I was.”
“How are you involved?” Nancy asked.
He lifted his palms. “The truth is, I already knew about Slesak and Colville and their attempt to kidnap you.”
“How?” Nancy asked.
“You reported it to the police, and they reported to federal agents. It was only a matter of time until they reported to me.” He clasped Nancy’s hand in his. “Congratulations. You, Nancy Drew, have learned my secret.”
“Which is?” she asked a trifle dazedly.
“That I’m working undercover with federal agents to crack open a ring of spies selling international secrets to the highest bidder. I’m not just a chef. I’m also a CIA agent!”
Chapter
Seventeen
NANCY’S MOUTH DROPPED open. “You’re an undercover agent for our government?”
Jacques inclined his head. “An intelligence agent.”
“So you were on to Slesak all along?”
“I had my suspicions.”
Jacques glanced around the kitchen again, then led Nancy and Ned toward another door. “I might as well tell you everything,” he said. “Slesak has networks of people working for him. Informants in every country. Some of the people at this dinner tonight are more interested in gathering information against their enemies than in promoting peace. You can bet Slesak and Colville will show up here. They’ve got information to sell.”
“So that’s what the recipes are all about,” Nancy said.
Jacques nodded. “The proportions and ingredients list important dates and places—for instance, this dinner. But we believe the code also reveals specific information concerning one country or another. In the wrong hands it could be lethal.”
“Military information?” Nancy guessed.
“Among other things. Our government is working on cracking the trickier parts of the code.” Jacques smiled wryly. “I stole the information from Slesak and pretended to be a buyer who wasn’t interested in paying. I wanted to flush him out. But it backfired, and he turned on you.
“Thank you both for bringing me this information—but believe me, we were already primed and waiting for Slesak to show.”
“You don’t expect us to just leave, do you?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“So which are you really?” Ned asked, as Jacques pushed them toward the door. “A chef, or a spy?”
“A little of both.” Jacques’s smile was almost cruel. “I like excitement. Being a chef isn’t quite enough of a challenge.”
They had almost reached the side entrance when several men hurried to Jacques’s side. “An unscheduled delivery van is outside,” one said quietly. “But it’s empty.”
“Slesak.” Nancy breathed out loud. “He’s loose.”
Jacques’s face grew dark with annoyance. “Get them out of here,” he commanded, jerking his head at Nancy and Ned.
“We can’t. We’ve blocked the entrances,” another man said.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Nancy hovered near the corner, watching as Jacques strode off after the two men. She was secretly delighted. “Slesak can’t get inside past this security,” she said.
“I wouldn’t think so,” Ned said.
After a few moments Nancy said, “What do you think’s going on out there?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll go look,” Ned said.
“I’m coming with you.”
“One of us should stay here in case Jacques comes back.” Ned sounded as if his mind were made up.
Nancy stood and watched him go. She felt uneasy all by herself. She decided to check out what was on the other side of the kitchen. She pushed open the swinging door—and was immediately accosted by a bevy of federal agents. “Get her out of here!” one of them yelled, and Nancy was shoved into another room.
Nancy turned around and was amazed to see that she was in the ballroom. “I wish Ned were with me,” she said, hearing her voice echo hollowly back at her.
Nancy paced the floor, growing more and more restless. She was starting up a central marble staircase that led to a balcony when the main door suddenly swung inward and Jacques appeared.
“I thought I told you to stay where you were! Where’s Ned?”
“Looking for you,” Nancy told him, coming back down the stairs. “Listen, we might have some information that could help. I heard Colville say something about a double cross. Do you think he’s planning to sell fake documents to someone?”
Jacques seemed to be thinking hard. “All I know is that Colville was Slesak’s contact on this job,” he said after a minute. “We don’t know who’s buying the information, but as soon as we nab Colville and Slesak, it won’t matter anyhow.”
“You’ve been tracking Slesak a long time, haven’t you?”
“For years. Slesak has used his cover as a chef to get himself on the staff of many important political dinners. And not just in this country. When he settled at Claude’s school, 1 began to wonder what was going on. Then 1 realized that he needed the school’s reputation because he was losing his own.”
“The night you came to Slesak’s office—”
“I was trying to steal the recipes then,” Jacques admitted. “I’d gone through them once before, but Slesak had interrupted me. Then the second time I went back, you were there.” He smiled. “Your friend’s wallet was an excuse, wasn’t it?”
Nancy nodded. “I wanted to know why Slesak was so worried about those recipes too. Sorry I didn’t trust you then.”
“No problem. I didn’t trust you either. Any more questions?”
“What about Trent Richards?”
“Richards!” Jacques shook his head. “A two-bit blackmailer who got in over his head. Slesak got tired of his demands, knocked him out, and left him in the freezer. He made sure the lock on the door was broken.”
“What about the accidents?”
“They were simply designed to get rid of Claude. Slesak knew he could blame Claude for lax security and get the board on his side. Eventually he could be head of the school.”
“So the wrought-iron rack could have fallen at any time? That’s funny. I had the strangest feeling it was meant for me.”
Jacques hesitated. “Maybe it was. Slesak could have been waiting for you to come to the front of the room.”
Nancy nodded. It all made perfect sense. Her instincts about Paul Slesak had been right from the beginning.
Jacques examined his watch, then listened at the door. “Maybe we should find out what’s going on,” Nancy suggested. She was starting to get worried about Ned.
“No. I’m keeping my eye on you. I don’t want you involved.”
“But Ned’s already out there.”
“He’ll have to take care of himself.”
Nancy rubbed her palms together nervously. “What time is it now?” she asked.
Jacques flicked a glance at his watch. “Seven-thirty,” he said flatly.
But Nancy hardly heard him. Her eyes were glued to his wrist, where a semicircle of tooth prints showed. Her toothprints.
Nancy’s pulse started beating in her temples. She had bitten her white-robed assailant’s wrist the other night. It had been Jacques Bonet’s wrist! He was the man who had attacked her!
Nancy edged away from him. Sweat was breaking out on her forehead. Jacques was a double agent. He had tried to kill her once before. He would undoubtedly try again.
Now she understood what Colville’s reference to double-crossing meant. Now she knew why Jacques had her alone with him.
Nancy backed away until she stood in the center of the room. On the balcony above she could see several doors. Any one of them might lead to freedom.
She sidled closer to the stairway. What would Jacques do if she just turned and ran? Attack her again? She remembered how strong he was. She could never win a battle with him.
But she had to escape.
“Stay back,” Jacques said. Nancy froze, sure she’d been found out. But he was just opening the door, checking outside.
This was her chance!
Nancy dashed up the stairs as fast as she could, her heart pounding. The first landing was only about a dozen steps up.
“What the—?” Jacques asked, spinning around.
Nancy kept on running. Her breath came in gasps. She was almost there!
Then a loud bang suddenly went off behind her—and the stairway rail exploded beside her head.
“Better stop running, Ms. Drew,” Jacques said coldly. “Or the next bullet’s for you.”
Chapter
Eighteen
NANCY STOOD FROZEN in place, staring down at Bonet. How had she ever thought he was handsome? There was nothing remotely attractive about the hardened criminal in front of her.
“You were just a little too smart, weren’t you?” he asked, aiming his gun at her head.
“You can’t get away now,” Nancy said, her voice calm. “Federal agents are all over the place.”
“Federal agents who trust me. And you’re not going to betray me, if you want to keep on living.”
Keep him talking, Nancy thought. It’s the only way.
“So Slesak isn’t the only one selling international secrets,” she said softly. “You’re working for him.”
“You’ve got that backward. He was working for me—until he decided to take matters into his own hands. Paul’s problem is that he’s greedy. He isn’t willing to wait.”
“And the accidents at the school? Those were Slesak’s doing?”
Jacques snorted in disgust. “The imbecile! He wanted that school so badly he was willing to risk our entire operation. He tried to run Claude down, and when that didn’t work, he poisoned him. Then he went to the papers!”
“What about Claude? Where does he fit in?”
“He’s only a foolish old man.” Jacques’s gun hand was steady. Too steady for Nancy to risk another escape.
“So you used him. You earned your own reputation by hanging onto his coattails.”
“I am an excellent chef,” Jacques said coolly. “I’m an even better agent. Now, enough questions. You and I are going for a ride.”
Before Nancy could move, the doors to the room suddenly burst open and Ned came flying toward Jacques—unarmed.
Nancy screamed.
Jacques turned. His gun was pointed straight at Ned’s head.
Nancy threw herself at Jacques. The gun went off and flew out of Jacques’s hand, skittering across the polished floor.
Nancy held on to Jacques with all her strength. But it was only a matter of seconds before he had freed himself, throwing her aside like a rag doll.
Then Ned was on top of him.
Instantly the room was crowded with secret service agents. Nancy jumped to her feet.
Ned and Jacques were still rolling across the floor. Finally Ned got a choke hold on Jacques. “Bonet,” he said through clenched teeth, “it’s all over now.”
• • •
Four hours later, after a long session with federal agents, Nancy and Ned were released.
Within an hour they were waiting by their assigned gate for their flight home.
“You really want to finish our cooking lessons, huh?” Nancy asked Ned. “After all this excitement, don’t you think cooking school is going to be a letdown?”
“Are you kidding? I’ll welcome the change!”
Nancy smiled. “I’m glad all Slesak’s recipe cards were turned in. Now maybe the government can decode all the information,” she said.
“They should ask you to help them. You figured out the date of the Washington dinner.”
“The easy part,” she said, smiling. “I don’t think even Jacques knew everything in those files.”
“Jacques was clever though,” Ned said after a moment. “He almost had me convinced that he was on the level until I heard that shot go off in the ballroom.”
“He had me fooled,” said Nancy, glancing out the window at an approaching plane. “But I don’t know who was worse, Bonet or Slesak. Slesak tried to kill me with the wrought-iron holder. He was the one waiting in the vent above.”
“Yeah, but who got you to the front of the room? Bonet.” Ned’s mouth tightened. “And Bonet was the one who tackled you on the street.
“Bonet is definitely the true villain here,” Ned continued. “He ordered Slesak to fool with the stove and try either to kill Richards or scare him off. And he was the one who masterminded Richards’s death.”
“Because Richards was blackmailing him. It was Jacques I heard being threatened in the hallway that night,” Nancy said with a sigh. Hearing the announcement that their plane was ready for boarding, they started walking to the gate. “But Colville was the one who fooled with the elevator, and that was on Slesak’s orders. Bonet was trying hard to hold down the publicity. Especially after Slesak went to the press.”
“Are you defending Bonet?” Ned asked curiously.
“Good grief, no! The point is, he and Slesak are two of a kind. Both interested in achieving what they want, whatever the cost.” Nancy handed the flight attendant her boarding pass and made her way to her seat. “It’s all pretty hard to believe, isn’t it?” she said as Ned settled down beside her. “But I guess now we know why Bonet paid me so much attention. He wanted to keep an eye on me at all times.”
“If you say so.” Ned pulled a magazine out of the seat pocket in front of him. “Personally, I think he’s just attracted to danger. And you’re a dangerous, beautiful, intelligent detective.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. And you know, I have learned a few things at cooking school. And one of them is that cooking is like chess. It just takes a little practice.”
“I’ve heard chess is boring,” Nancy said with a smile.
“Oh, yeah? Those people haven’t had me to teach them.”
Nancy glanced sideways at him. Ned’s eyes glinted with humor. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s so great about the way you teach chess?”
“Well, for someone such as yourself, it’s going to take hours and hours of practice.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning, we’ll have to spend a lot of time together—just you and me—practicing.” A smile threatened the corners of his mouth.
“Practicing—moves?” Nancy asked innocently.
“Yeah.” He grinned. “I think you’re catching on.
“These moves. Could you give me an example of one?”
For an answer he leaned forward, kissing her in a way that made her heart beat a bit faster. “That’s an opening move,” he said.
/> “I see.” Nancy took a deep breath. “Well, I may need a lot of lessons.”
“Practice makes perfect.” Ned grinned, then kissed her again.
As the plane began roaring up the runway, Nancy said softly, “I think I’m going to like chess.”
And they both laughed.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Simon Pulse
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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Copyright © 1988 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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ISBN: 978-0-6716-8802-8 (pbk)
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NANCY DREW and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
THE NANCY DREW FILES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Carolyn Keene, Recipe for Murder
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