was surprised when the operator connected her
directly to the reporter, Deborah Hui.
“Hi,” Nancy began. “My name is Nancy Drew,
and—”
“And you're involved in the Royal Chocolates
instant-win scandal,” Deborah said. “I'm doing a
follow-up story on the evening news tonight. Do you
have some information for me?”
“Not exactly,” Nancy said. “In fact, we were hoping
to keep this out of the media until the identity of the
winner was settled.”
“Sorry, but the news is already out there. We have to
do our job.” She paused. “Wait a minute. You're the
one who's some kind of detective, right? Let me guess.
You want to know my source on the story.”
“I was hoping you might be able to help me, yes,”
Nancy said.
“I'm sure you realize it would be unethical for me to
reveal that information,” Deborah replied.
“How ethical is it to air a story without trying to
speak with all the people involved? You didn't try to
contact my friend Bess Marvin, for example. Whoever
your source was—”
“You're not going to find out who she was,” Deborah
interrupted, “so you might as well stop trying.”
She, Nancy thought. That was something. If
Deborah's source was female, that would eliminate
John Tumey.
“Thanks for your time,” Nancy said. She hung up
before Deborah could make another pitch for Nancy to
talk to her on the evening news.
So John Tumey wasn't the person who talked to
Deborah, Nancy realized. That didn't mean he wasn't
involved. Maybe he was working with Diana or Andrea.
Maybe one of them had given Deborah the story.
Nancy thought about Diana's strange behavior since
they had arrived. All along, they had assumed Diana
didn't know that Bess had come forward with another
winning wrapper because Joyce hadn't told her. But
what if someone else had told Diana about Bess's
wrapper? Nancy wondered. If Diana was working with
the corporate spy and the spy knew about the wrapper,
the spy could have told her. That would explain why
Diana had been eavesdropping on them and acting
hostile. She was probably desperate to find out
whether her chances of winning the grand prize were
ruined.
Bess snapped her fingers in front of Nancy's face.
“Earth to Nan.”
“Sorry,” Nancy said. “I was just thinking.”
“Are you sure you're okay here by yourself?” Bess
asked. “I could stay if you want me to.”
“That's sweet, Bess, but I'll be fine. And Andrea
definitely needs you,” Nancy said.
George grunted as she heaved Bess's suitcase onto
the bed. “You need us, too, to help you cart this stuff
out of here. Maybe one of the Sleuths can give you a
science tip to make these bags easier to carry. Like a
lever. Or gee—how about packing lighter?”
Nancy held the door open while Bess and George
dragged their bags into the hall. “Make sure you call
me tonight, so I know you got home safely,” she said.
Their good bye was cut short by the ringing phone.
“Grand Central Station,” Nancy answered.
“Nancy?” Joyce's voice sounded uncertain.
“Hi, Joyce. I'm sorry to answer that way. It's just that
it's been hectic around here. What can I do for you?”
“I don't suppose you happened to see the news this
morning,” Joyce said.
“In fact, I did.” Nancy sat on the bed, preparing
herself for a long conversation. “Do you have any idea
where the press heard about the contest problems?”
“None.” Joyce sighed. “But Mr. Castle went through
the roof when he saw the story.”
“I bet,” Nancy said. “I wish I could say I had some
leads for you, but I don't. I did stumble across
something else today.”
Nancy went on to explain about Andrea's release
from the hospital and her story that Joyce had sent her
the instant-win wrapper after Andrea's futile attempts
to contact Robert Castle.
“I don't want to sound as though I'm questioning
Andrea's account of what happened,” Nancy said. “But
I was hoping you could just verify for me that you did
mail Andrea those chocolates.”
“Gosh.” Joyce sounded strained. “You can't believe
how many promotional materials I send out every day.
It's quite possible Andrea was on my list. I wish I could
say for sure, but there's no way I can remember.”
“You don't have any records? Nothing?”
“Sorry,” Joyce said. “If we kept files on freebies, we
wouldn't have room for anything else.”
Nancy drummed her fingers on the nightstand. She
had hoped Joyce would be able to give her an easy
answer. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Andrea didn't
mention to you that she's related to Robert Castle?”
“Related to . . . ?” Joyce trailed off. “Her last name is
Cassella. Of course. I can't believe I didn't realize that
myself.”
Joyce's reaction surprised Nancy. She had been
under the impression from Andrea that Joyce was
aware of their relationship.
“No wonder Mr. Castle was so upset after he met
with you,” Joyce went on. “He's incredibly suspicious of
his estranged family members. He always thinks
they're dreaming up new schemes to get to his money.
Not that I think that's what Andrea's doing,” Joyce
added hastily.
“You've been very understanding about all this,”
Nancy said.
“The Golden Rule,” Joyce said. “Just because my
bosses walk all over me doesn't mean I like to walk all
over other people.”
“Joyce, do any of your bosses besides Mr. Tumey
know that I'm working with you on this investigation?”
Nancy asked.
“Absolutely not,” Joyce said. “Unless—”
“Unless?”
“I can't vouch for what Mr. Tumey does, of course.
If he told someone, I wouldn't know about it. He's not
fond of filling me in on lots of things.”
She doesn't trust John Tumey, Nancy thought to
herself. Was Joyce trying to find a tactful way of telling
Nancy she thought Mr. Tumey had been giving out
information too freely?
“You didn't tell Mr. Tumey I'd be going through the
files tonight,” Nancy said.
“Are you kidding?” Joyce laughed nervously. “He'd
have me fired. But he'll never know. It turns out he's
off-site all afternoon at a meeting with a client. He
probably won't even come back for the dinner. It starts
at five-thirty, by the way. Why don't you come over at
six. I'll buzz you up, then I'll slip out to go to the
dinner. Does that work for you?”
“It sounds great,” Nancy said. She thanked Joyce for
her help.
Now, she wondered, what was she going to do until
six o'c
lock?
It was Wednesday, she thought. If she went back to
the computer lab, Patsy should be there. Maybe Patsy
would remember the person who was searching online
for information about the Sleuths.
The lab was busy. Nancy had to wait almost half an
hour before Patsy was available to speak with her. In
the meantime, she heard Patsy explain to two frantic
students how to retrieve their lost data.
Nancy thought Patsy seemed both competent and
friendly. But Patsy's smile faded when she heard
Nancy's question.
“Users at this terminal two days ago? Um . . . isn't
there anything else I could help you with? A computer
question, maybe?”
“I know it's a strange request,” Nancy said. “And a
long shot. I just hoped that maybe the person asked
you a question or made an impression somehow.”
“Wait a second! I do remember something,” Patsy
said suddenly. “This lady definitely stood out. She was
sitting at this terminal. It was toward the end of the
day. And I had to tell her, like, three times to quit
eating chocolate in the lab.”
Nancy asked Patsy to describe the woman. Not only
did the description fit Diana, but Patsy also mentioned
the woman's silent husband, who sat in a chair beside
her the whole time.
Nancy thanked Patsy. “I'll let you get back to work,”
she said as a user waved his hand frantically for Patsy's
help.
Nancy decided to take a walk through the English
garden to clear her head.
So it seemed Diana was the woman who had been
doing research on Nancy and the Sleuths. Now what?
If Diana really was the woman in the computer lab,
why was she searching for information? How did she
even know their names? Somebody must have told her,
Nancy realized. But who? The corporate spy? Or John
Tumey? Was John Tumey the corporate spy?
After wandering around the park, Nancy took the
elevator to the top of the Royal Observatory. From
there she had a breathtaking view of the green fields
surrounding the park and the shimmering pool at
Water Wonderland.
It was surprising, she thought, to see how many
people were moving around on the grounds. Workers
walked in and out of the chocolate factory. Waves of
newcomers continued to pour in through the main
gate.
Nancy's gaze stopped at the administration building,
which seemed an oasis of calm in the middle of chaos.
There was a courtyard behind the offices, and there a
man and woman stood alone, talking. Nancy squinted
at the woman's yellow-flowered hat, and the man's
familiar bald head. “John Tumey and Diana!” she
whispered.
Nancy remembered Joyce telling her that Mr.
Tumey was away this afternoon to meet with a client.
So why was he here, and with Diana? What was going
on?
13. Thrown for a Loop
Had Mr. Tumey lied to Joyce about his plans this
afternoon? Nancy asked herself. He said he was
meeting with a client. Surely Diana wasn't a client.
Nancy realized that there could be a perfectly good
reason for Mr. Tumey to meet with Diana. They could
be discussing the contest. But why would Joyce think
Mr. Tumey was somewhere else? And why were they
meeting in an isolated area behind the building instead
of in Mr. Tumey's office?
As Nancy expected, by the time she got back to the
ground and made her way to the administration
building, Diana and John Tumey had both
disappeared. There was no chance of eavesdropping on
their conversation.
Nancy checked her watch. In another couple of
hours she could meet Joyce. She couldn't wait to
search John Tumey's office and maybe find some
answers.
After a leisurely early dinner, Nancy returned to the
administration building and dialed the number for
Joyce's office. A moment later she was buzzed inside.
Joyce seemed harried when Nancy arrived on the
fifth floor. “I've got to get to this dinner pronto,” she
explained to Nancy. “Mr. Castle was very anxious that I
be there.” She hurriedly demonstrated where Nancy
might find various files in the suite of offices.
“Feel free to go through my office. Mr. Tumey's,
too. I'm sorry, but I wasn't able to get a key to Mr.
Castle's.”
“That's okay. I think the chance that he's the
corporate spy is pretty close to zero.”
“I hate to ask you this, but I'll also need you to turn
off the lights.” Joyce reached out and flipped the
switch. “We used to have round-the-clock security until
our budget cutbacks. Now, with the new alarm system,
the guards go off-duty at eleven. In the meantime, I
don't want them to suspect someone's snooping up
here.” Joyce handed her a huge flashlight.
“Thanks,” Nancy said. “This'll work a lot better than
my penlight.”
“Okay,” Joyce said. “I'll be back in a couple of hours.
Good luck.” She hurried to the elevator, leaving Nancy
to decide which of the dozens of file drawers to open
first.
Nancy turned toward Mr. Tumey's office. She
should probably start there, she decided. Her heart
sank when she saw the long row of file cabinets lining
the area behind his desk and behind the door, not to
mention the stacks of folders on top of his credenza.
Mr. Tumey's computer screen glowed invitingly in
the darkness. If I had classified information, Nancy
thought, I'd keep it hidden on a hard drive rather than
printed out and in a file.
She sat down at Mr. Tumey's computer, pleased that
she didn't need a password to access his files. On the
desktop, she saw an icon for an electronic address
book. This would be a good place to start looking for
information, Nancy decided.
With little trouble, Nancy found listings for both
Diana and Pleasant Candies. This was not unexpected.
In fact, Mr. Tumey probably had good reason to
contact both Diana and Pleasant Candies.
Nancy decided it might be worthwhile to dial the
Pleasant number to see who answered.
The phone was answered on the first ring by a
woman with a low, soothing voice. “Maggie
Fitzwilliam.”
Nancy was so astonished that she nearly dropped the
phone. Maggie Fitzwilliam was the president and CEO
of Pleasant Candies!
Nancy hung up hastily. She wondered whether
Maggie Fitzwilliam had caller ID and could trace her
call. Had she just tipped off Pleasant that she was
checking up on them? she worried.
There was no way, Nancy thought, that Mr. Tumey
would be doing normal Royal Chocolates business with
Maggie Fitzwilliam on her personal phone line. Nancy
had to assume it was her personal line, since she had
answered it after hours.
/>
John Tumey must be the corporate spy, Nancy
decided. As she clicked the mouse to close the entry in
his address book, she noticed something startling. This
entry had been added to John's file today. On a hunch,
she checked Diana's address—it was also dated today.
If John were the spy, Nancy knew he would have
been using these numbers for months. That didn't
make sense at all. These numbers had just been added
to the address book today. Had Mr. Tumey really been
using them? Or was someone just trying to make it
seem that he had been? Did someone want to make
him appear guilty when Nancy accessed his computer?
No one knew Nancy was going to his office but
Joyce. Was Joyce trying to set John up? Nancy asked
herself. Why would she do that unless she was the
corporate spy?
Nancy remembered Joyce saying she'd rather work
with Nancy than against her. Maybe she'd asked for
Nancy's help because of Nancy's determination to
investigate. Maybe she had thought she could control
the direction of Nancy's investigation and steer the
blame away from herself—and onto John Tumey.
Nancy hurried into Joyce's office, knowing that
Joyce would expect her to search there. Joyce would
have been careful to get rid of any evidence that might
make her look guilty.
Nancy imagined Joyce making preparations for
Nancy to snoop in her office. Any computer files that
might provide useful information would have been
deleted. Any incriminating papers would have been
taken home or shredded.
Nancy had a sudden memory of the information she
had heard Patsy giving the students in the computer
lab about retrieving lost files. When files were deleted
from the hard drive of the computer, they weren't
actually gone. They were sent temporarily to a place
called the Recycle Bin. After a few days the computer
would automatically purge the information in the
Recycle Bin. But until then, those files should still be
there—and easily accessible.
Nancy found the Recycle Bin icon and double
clicked on it.
Sure enough, she found a list of files Joyce had
deleted that morning.
Nancy opened the first file. It was a letter addressed
to Andrea, care of the Science Sleuths.
Nancy could hardly believe her good fortune. This
was obviously information Joyce thought was hidden
forever from prying eyes.