“Mayor Abbott is outraged,” the assistant went on, “that such a thing could happen in his peaceful town, and—”
“But why do you suppose it happened?” Brenda broke in. “Mr. Harrington, could it possibly have anything to do with the death of your father?”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Harrington said. He glanced around, obviously hoping that someone would rescue him from Brenda. When he saw Nancy, his eyes lit up. “Excuse me,” he said, stepping away from the other two.
When Todd Harrington reached Nancy, he stopped and held out his hand. “I have to admit that when you first leaped on me, I was ready to have you arrested,” he said with a smile. “But now all I want to do is thank you. You can knock me off a platform anytime.”
Laughing, Nancy shook his hand. “Thanks,” she said. “Let’s hope I never have to do it again.”
“Well, well,” Brenda said, walking over to them. “If it isn’t Nancy Drew, the heroine of the day.”
“Nancy Drew?” Todd asked. “Is that your name?”
Nancy nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Now all I need is your address. I’d like to send you a little something.”
Nancy started to say he didn’t need to, but Brenda broke in again. “Oh, you don’t need an address, Mr. Harrington!” she said sarcastically. “Just write ‘Nancy Drew, U.S.A.’ I mean, everyone knows who Nancy Drew is.”
“Everyone but me, I’m afraid,” Todd admitted.
“Are you serious?” Brenda gave Nancy a sly wink. “Why, Mr. Harrington, Nancy Drew is River Heights’s famous girl detective. Isn’t that right, Nancy?”
Nancy bit her lip to keep from saying something nasty, but Todd Harrington seemed impressed. “A detective?” he said.
“Amateur,” Brenda pointed out quickly.
“No kidding!” Todd went on, ignoring Brenda. “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll help find whoever took a shot at me.”
“I’ll try,” Nancy said with a laugh. “I can’t resist a good mystery.”
“I think you should let the police handle it,” Brenda told her. “But if you want to solve a mystery, there’s an even better one to work on—the strange death of John Harrington.”
“Miss Carlton, I hate to be rude, but I wish you’d drop that subject,” Todd Harrington said. “If there was anything strange about my father’s death, I’m sure the police would have found it. It’s past. It’s over. Now, please leave it alone!” With a nod to Nancy, he walked off toward the van.
“Honestly, Brenda,” Nancy said. “Why don’t you just drop it? You’ve gotten a wonderful story today.”
“Because it’s so interesting,” Brenda retorted. “I mean, look at the facts. The body of John Harrington was found at the bottom of the cliffs outside his family mansion. There was no suicide note. The man was just about to be elected governor of the state. He was also just about to become a father—Todd’s father. You don’t kill yourself when you’re on top of the world.”
“Maybe it was an accident,” Nancy said. “Maybe he slipped and fell.”
“You don’t slip and fall out of a tower window,” Brenda said.
“The tower window?” Nancy asked, picturing Harrington House in her mind. “That’s where he fell from?”
“According to all the experts.” Brenda looked infuriatingly smug. “What do you have to say about that, Detective Drew?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” Nancy said honestly. “But don’t you have a story to file, Brenda? You just witnessed an assassination attempt. What are you doing talking to me?”
Brenda looked startled. “Oh, you think you know everything, don’t you?” she asked. But she was already cramming her notebook and tape recorder into her bag.
“See you soon,” said Nancy, strolling away.
Once she was alone, she began to think about what Brenda had told her. If John Harrington had fallen from a tower window, the case was entirely different because you don’t slip and fall from a window like that. You either jump—or you’re pushed.
And now to find Bess and George. She was going to need that ride home after all.
• • •
Nancy went to bed thinking about John Harrington’s death. But when she woke up, she was thinking about Ned. Why hadn’t he called? Of course, all he’d said was “Can I call you later?” but Nancy couldn’t help thinking he’d have called her that night. His break from college wasn’t going to last forever.
But maybe, she worried, he didn’t really want to work things out. Maybe he still thought her detective work would come between them. Nancy hoped not—because there was no way she was going to stop.
Nancy kicked back the covers in frustration and got out of bed. Still in her yellow thigh-length T-shirt, she did a few sit-ups, brushed her teeth, and went downstairs and into the kitchen.
Hannah Gruen, the housekeeper who’d been with the Drews since Nancy was three, was already there, unloading the dishwasher. When she saw Nancy, she smiled. “Good morning. You’re up early.”
“I know,” Nancy said with a yawn. “I tried to sleep longer, but the sun was too bright.” Still yawning, she poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the kitchen table. But when she had unrolled the newspaper and seen the front page, she stopped yawning.
“Hometown Detective Saves Life of Harrington,” ran the headline. Above that was a photo of Nancy and Todd Harrington shaking hands, and the story below it, with Brenda Carlton’s byline, covered almost half the front page.
Nancy grinned. Brenda must have really hated having to mention me at all, she thought. She sipped some more juice and started to read the story, but the phone rang before she got very far. Hannah picked it up.
“It’s Bess,” Hannah said. “She’s all excited about something—maybe she won the lottery.”
“Nan!” Bess shrieked after Nancy had taken the phone. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d saved his life? You didn’t mention one word in the car about what you’d done. I suppose you had a reason to be quiet. But now you’ve got to tell me all the important stuff. Like, what’s he like? Is he as gorgeous up close as he looks from far away?”
“He sure is,” Nancy said, laughing. “Todd Harrington is definitely a hunk.”
“And to think”—Bess sighed—“you got to shake hands with him. Maybe you can introduce me to him.”
“I’ll probably never see him again, Bess.”
“Sure you will,” Bess said. “You saved his life, so he owes you. And when he asks how he can repay you, just tell him you have this friend who’s dying to meet him! Oh, by the way,” she went on, “what are you going to do about Brenda? Are you going to accept?”
“Accept what? What are you talking about?”
“You mean you haven’t read it? Nancy, just turn to the editorial page. Brenda’s done it again!”
After Nancy had hung up, she flipped through the newspaper until she came to the editorial page. There was a column called “In This Reporter’s Opinion.” That day, “This Reporter” was Brenda Carlton.
“It seems to this reporter,” Brenda had written, “that our famous local detective, Nancy Drew, should want to sink her teeth into a mystery that has remained unsolved in River Heights for the past thirty years—the death of John Harrington.
“But maybe our detective finds a mystery in her own hometown too boring. Maybe she’s afraid she won’t be able to solve what happened to John Harrington. Or maybe she’s losing her touch.
“Is that true, Nancy Drew? This reporter hopes not, because she has decided to solve the mystery herself. And this reporter is challenging you to an ‘investigative duel.’ Do you accept, Nancy Drew? Or have you lost your touch?”
When Nancy finished reading, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. She knew she wasn’t losing her touch! But a “duel”? Nancy didn’t want to get into that with Brenda.
Of course, the Harrington case was very interesting. It would be a challenge to try to find out exactly what had happened.
/> Nancy was still trying to decide what to do when the phone rang again. That time it was Ned.
“Hi,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t call you last night. I wanted to, but I got tied up with my family.”
“That’s okay,” Nancy told him. At least he wanted to, she thought.
“I see you made the front page,” Ned said. “And the editorial page, too.”
“So you saw Brenda’s challenge.”
“She’s got nerve, you have to give her that,” Ned commented. “You are accepting, aren’t you?”
Nancy wasn’t sure whether Ned would like it, but she knew she couldn’t resist. “I think I will,” she said. “Brenda couldn’t solve a mystery if she was handed all the clues. And besides,” she added, “you know I love a good mystery.”
“I remember,” he said.
Nancy still wasn’t sure whether he was happy about it, but what he said next made her happy.
“Just be careful,” Ned told her softly. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I’ll call later when I know what my plans are. Okay?”
Still smiling, Nancy hung up. “Looks as though I’m on a new case, Hannah.”
“Oh?” Hannah turned, holding two glasses in each hand. “Where will you be traveling to this time?”
“Nowhere,” Nancy said, pointing to the newspaper. “The death of John Harrington is a homegrown, River Heights mystery.”
Suddenly a glass slipped from Hannah’s fingers, splintering on the hard tiled floor. But Hannah ignored the shards of glass at her feet. Her face white, her eyes wide, she stared at Nancy and shook her head.
“Stay away from that case!” she said in a shaky voice. “I beg you, Nancy, don’t have anything to do with it!”
Chapter
Three
HANNAH!” NANCY CRIED. “What’s wrong? Why should I stay away from the case?”
“I—I just mean that it’s such an old case,” Hannah stammered. “And it was solved, years ago.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Nancy said. “But even if it turns out that he had just fallen, why don’t you want me to get involved?”
Hannah reached for the dustpan and brush, and began to clean up the broken glass. “Oh, never mind me,” she told Nancy. “I suppose I was just shocked to hear John Harrington mentioned again. After all, it was quite a big story back then.”
“But, Hannah, you begged me not to get involved!” Nancy protested.
“Well, you know me. I always worry about you,” Hannah said with a laugh. “Now let me get on with my chores, Nancy.”
Nancy started to protest again, but then she changed her mind and headed for the bathroom to shower. Hannah obviously didn’t want to talk anymore, and Nancy knew it was useless to try—right then.
• • •
“Well, well.” Brenda Carlton stood up behind her desk at her father’s newspaper office and smirked at Nancy. “Look who’s here.”
Two hours had passed, and Nancy decided to stop by the Today’s Times office to let Brenda know she was going to accept the challenge.
“Don’t tell me you let ‘this reporter’s opinion’ bother you,” Brenda continued.
“Of course not,” Nancy said, trying to sound casual. “I’m a sucker for a challenge, you know that.”
Brenda looked surprised. “You mean you’re accepting?”
“Sure, why not?” Nancy sat on the edge of the desk and grinned. “What’s the matter, Brenda? Are you scared you’ll lose?”
“Don’t be silly.” Brenda tossed her hair back and tried to smile. “After all, I already know ten times more about the story than you do.”
“That won’t last long,” Nancy said. “Just give me a day to read the police files and the microfilms of the back issues of the newspapers, and we’ll be even.”
“Microfilms of back issues? Gosh, Nancy, I don’t know about that,” Brenda said. “I mean, we’re not on the same team. Just because I work here doesn’t mean I should make it easy for you by letting you look at all those old newspaper films.”
“Oh, yes, it does.” Nancy leaned closer to Brenda. “Because if you don’t, I’ll write a letter to the editor, and then I’ll go to the public library to read them.”
Brenda knew she didn’t have any choice. “Well, all right.” She pouted. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m already miles ahead of you.”
“Good for you. But be careful not to stop and look over your shoulder,” Nancy warned her. “That’s how you lose races.”
Without another word, Brenda grudgingly directed Nancy to the Times’s morgue, which was where all the microfilms of past issues were stored. With a little help, Nancy found all the films she needed and learned how to use the microfilm reader. She sat down at a long wooden table and started to read everything she could find about John Harrington.
An hour later she had learned some very interesting things. Todd had been born four months after his father’s death; his mother had died giving birth to him. He’d been brought up by his paternal grandmother in another town. He’d lived in Harrington House for only his first month—the house had been closed up ever since then—but he’d inherited the house at the age of twenty-one.
No wonder he doesn’t want all that stuff about his father dragged into the open again, Nancy thought. He will probably move back here someday, and he wouldn’t want a big deal made out of his father’s past.
She also learned that Sam Abbott, now the mayor of River Heights, had been John Harrington’s personal secretary. He’d been with Harrington the night he was killed. But Abbott had never been suspected of anything, because the Harrington’s chauffeur, Charles Ogden, said he’d spoken to John Harrington after Abbott had left the mansion.
Nancy made a note to speak to Mayor Abbott and to Charles Ogden, if he was still in River Heights. But the person she wanted to talk to most was Neil Gray, John Harrington’s opponent in the race for governor. Neil Gray had had an appointment with John Harrington the night Harrington died. He claimed he’d never seen Harrington—that when he got to the mansion, Sam Abbott had met him and told him the meeting was postponed.
What made Nancy really want to talk to Neil Gray was something the newspaper said—that, according to Gray, the Harringtons had used every dirty trick in the book to ruin his name and campaign.
“They said I dropped out of college,” he was quoted as saying. “But they didn’t bother to add that I dropped out because I needed money to finish. And I did finish, fourth in my class.
“They said I was fired from the first law firm I worked for. What they didn’t say was that the firm was dissolved. Nobody was fired—there just wasn’t any firm to work for anymore.
“They accused me of accepting campaign money from criminals. That’s true. One of the people who gave me money had two parking tickets.”
Neil Gray had more stories to tell, and each one was worse than the last. He was an angry man, and if what he said was true, Nancy figured he had every right to be. But had he been angry enough to kill John Harrington?
Nancy glanced at her watch. It was twelve o’clock. With only half a glass of orange juice in her stomach, she was starving. But she decided to go to the police station before she ate because she wanted to read the files on the case to see if the police had been as suspicious of Neil Gray as she was.
Downtown River Heights was crowded with workers out for a quick meal or a stroll in the spring sunshine. Nancy was almost at the police station when the smell of hot dogs from an outdoor stand made her stop. Her stomach rumbled, and she couldn’t ignore her hunger any longer. As she walked up to the hot dog stand, she saw she had an even better reason to stop—Ned was there.
Her heart pounding eagerly, Nancy sneaked up behind Ned. “I can’t believe it,” she said teasingly, “you still eat them with sauerkraut.”
“Nancy!” Ned looked surprised and happy. “This is great. Tell you what—I’ll buy your hot dog if you’ll eat it with me in the park.”
Nancy wanted to g
o, but she knew that if she did, she and Ned would hang out in the park for a while. “I’ll make you another deal,” she said. “You walk with me to the police station, and I’ll buy my own hot dog.”
“The police station?” Ned frowned. “You’re on the case already?”
“Why not?” Nancy asked. “The faster I get on it, the faster I’ll finish it.” There, she thought, that ought to make him happy.
“I guess you’re right,” Ned agreed. “I just wish you had some free time. I’m going back to school in a few days.”
Nancy’s hot dog stopped halfway to her mouth. “Ned, I told you I was accepting Brenda’s challenge and you didn’t say anything! Now you’re complaining. I don’t get it.”
“I’m not complaining,” Ned protested. “I just want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”
“Well, why haven’t you asked?”
“I was going to this morning, but you said you were accepting Brenda’s challenge. And I didn’t want to get in your way.”
“Well, we’re together now. Will you walk me to the police station?” Nancy smiled and took his hand. “Come on. We’ll walk very slowly.”
“Somehow I think I got the short end of this deal,” Ned commented, but he did squeeze her hand. “Okay, you win. Let’s go to the police station.”
They did walk slowly, but the police offices were only a block and a half away, and it was hard to make the walk last more than five minutes. When they said goodbye, Nancy could tell Ned was disappointed. He’s not the only one, she thought.
The mayor’s office was right next door to the police station, and on the spur of the moment Nancy decided to go there first. As she entered the reception area, she could see the mayor in his office having what looked like a heated conversation with a tall, skinny man. The man’s back was to her, and Nancy couldn’t hear what he’d just said, but obviously it upset the mayor. Mayor Abbott’s face turned red and he walked over and slammed the door of his office shut.
Politics, Nancy thought, and walked over to the secretary’s desk. “Hi,” she said, and gave her name. “I’d like to make an appointment to see Mayor Abbott.”