Name: Barry Walter Aitkin
Address: 42 Maiden Court, Mapleton
Occupation: Tax Consultant
Guest Membership: Andrea Tannenbaum
Relationship to Member: Niece
Club Sponsor: Elizabeth Hackney
Aitkin’s photo was paper-clipped to the folder. The color picture showed a smiling, handsome man who looked about thirty, with wavy chestnut hair, gray-green eyes, and a dimpled chin.
Nancy remembered her father’s description of Joe Crain. Young guy in his twenties. She felt a wave of disappointment pass over her. Barry Aitkin was too old to be Crain.
Nancy slid the drawer shut. It was unlikely that the false Nancy had bothered to take out a club membership, and if she had, it would be under a false name. She probably was a regular member’s guest. But which member?
Returning to the desk, Nancy thumbed open the club register. Ned told her that guests and members alike had to sign in at the front desk. The book was sure to have a record of “Nancy Drew’s” visits.
Nancy ran her forefinger down the column of signatures. Her brow creased in confusion. Every so often, she ran across a familiar name: Donald Eklund, Elizabeth Hackney, Barry Aitkin, Andrea Tannenbaum. But there was no signature for Nancy Drew.
Another dead end! Now there was no way for Nancy to come up with specific alibis for the visits “Nancy Drew” had made to the club. Even worse, it meant the impostor was really covering her tracks by signing in under another name.
Nancy was planning her next move when she heard the whispery squeak of the hinges on a door in the hall. Setting down the book, she listened carefully. Soft footsteps receded down the hall. Turning off her penlight, Nancy murmured, “Ned?”
No answer.
Pocketing the light, Nancy tiptoed across the darkened office. Pushing the door open a crack, she peered into the hallway.
Ned was gone!
Nancy’s heartbeat quickened. Mouth dry, she opened the door and stepped into the deserted hallway. Then she heard distant footsteps again.
Nancy padded softly down the hallway. Ned must have heard something and gone to check it out, she thought, stopping. But which way did he go?
Suddenly Nancy heard an explosive intake of breath right behind her.
Nancy turned to see who was there, but her reaction was too slow. In a flash, Nancy felt the intruder throw something silky around her neck.
Her hands flew to her throat, but it was too late. Taut fabric dug into her windpipe. Her lungs ached for a breath of fresh air.
She was being strangled!
Chapter
Eleven
YOU’VE INTERFERED for the last time, Nancy Drew!”
Nancy quelled her rising panic at her assailant’s words. Fiery red spots danced before her eyes. Her lungs began to burn. She gasped frantically, trying to draw a breath of air.
The attacker pulled the material even tighter. Nancy lashed out with her right elbow and sunk it deep into the stomach of her attacker. With a loud ooph! he loosened his hold. Then Nancy grabbed the fabric with her left hand and yanked it away from her throat.
The material gave way surprisingly easily under pressure. Nancy’s lungs drank in a huge gulp of air.
Before her attacker could react, Nancy continued with the offensive. She slammed her boot heel into his instep. She whipped her head back, hitting him flush in the face. Her attacker yelled in rage and surprise.
Backing into him, Nancy grabbed his right arm and threw him over her shoulder in a judo toss.
Nancy’s attacker hit the floor hard. She rushed him, but the man recovered quickly, lashing out with his foot. His kick caught Nancy in the midriff, doubling her over, knocking the wind out of her. Gasping for breath, she dropped to her knees.
Nancy watched as her attacker fled down the darkened corridor. The high collar of his pea-coat and a black cotton stocking pulled down over his head concealed his face. There was no way to get a look at him.
Grimacing with the effort, Nancy rose on shaky legs and set off in pursuit. Every running step made Nancy’s stomach throb. But she managed to keep up.
The hallway led into the club’s main ballroom. French doors opened out onto a broad garden patio. Skidding to a halt, the intruder grabbed a door latch and tugged frantically. It wouldn’t budge.
Nancy’s spirits soared. Now I’ve got him! she thought. Then, before she could stop him, the man grabbed a small bronze bust from its pedestal and shattered the glass with it. Deafening alarm bells sounded. He ducked through the makeshift doorway, vaulted the patio wall, and disappeared into the night.
Nancy watched as the intruder flew away. He was going much too fast for her now. “Ned! Where are you?” she called out, trying to make herself heard over the din of the alarms.
“Nancy!” Ned rushed into the ballroom. “What happened?”
“I’ll explain later,” Nancy said breathlessly. “We’ve got to get out of here. The police will be here any minute! Follow those fresh footprints.”
Ned trailed her through the shattered French doors. Holding hands, they dashed down the patio steps and across the golf course, their boots kicking up showers of fresh snow as they watched the trail Nancy’s attacker had left.
Nancy soon knew they had lost their man. Snow had fallen off the trees and covered their quarry’s path. Through the curtain of falling snow, Nancy could see a police cruiser racing up the long drive, its red light flashing.
Nancy pulled Ned into the woods and out of sight.
“What happened to you?” she asked breathlessly.
“I heard footsteps while you were in the office,” Ned explained. “So I sneaked down the hall for a better look. Then the footsteps faded away. I followed for a bit until I heard all the commotion behind me. What happened to you?”
“There had to have been two of them, Ned. When they saw you outside the office, one of them lured you away. I surprised the other one when I came out looking for you.” Nancy scanned the country club’s grounds. More cruisers had shown up.
“Wait, where’s the second person? Must still be inside,” Ned reasoned out loud.
“Well, wherever he is we can’t wait. We’d better get out of here—and fast!” she said, pulling on Ned’s arm.
“Did he hurt you?” Ned asked as they silently made their way through the woods.
“Almost!” Nancy massaged her neck. “He tried to choke me.”
Stopping short, Ned whirled and put his hands on Nancy’s shoulders. “Let me see.” He winced as he tried to study her reddened skin in the faint light. “Oh, Nancy,” he said, folding her in his arms, “I wish you didn’t have to take these risks. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
Nancy smiled up into Ned’s eyes. His fingers reached up to touch her cheek, and their tips felt cool against her face.
“Don’t worry,” she said softly. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Not when I’ve got the best boyfriend a girl could have looking out for her!”
“I wish I felt that was enough,” Ned said, bending down to give her a soft kiss.
Nancy’s lips met his. The memory of her experience faded away as she felt Ned’s breath on her face. They lingered in each other’s arms for a moment, then Nancy pulled away.
Tugging at his wrists, Nancy led Ned toward Ashby Road. “We’d better go. Bess and George will be worried.”
Ned nodded and put his arm around her shoulder. Reaching the edge of the road, Nancy and Ned crouched behind the snowbank. Nancy felt the cold permeate her parka, chilling her backbone. Shivering, she whispered, “Did you get a look at the person you were following, Ned?”
Ned shook his head. “It was too dark. I think it was a woman, though.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The step was too light for a man’s. Besides, she had a very slight build,” Ned concluded. “She looked like she didn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds.”
Nancy heard the thrumming of a car’s en
gine. Twin headlights gleamed through the veil of snow. In a few seconds Nancy saw the car roll to a halt. The headlights blinked on and off three times.
“That’s them.” Waving her arms, Nancy ran down the snow-covered road. As she and Ned approached the Mustang, Bess scrambled out of the passenger seat, bursting with excitement. Beckoning with both hands, she cried, “Come on, you guys! Hurry!”
“How did it go?” George asked as Nancy slid into the backseat.
“I’ll tell you later! First, we’ve got to get out of here—now!” Nancy answered, making room for Ned.
Nancy slumped gratefully in the seat, leaning against Ned, catching her breath. Bess hopped into the front seat and slammed the door. George pumped the gas pedal, and they were off.
“We brought you some hot chocolate from the diner.” Bess handed each of them a steaming paper cup. “Nancy, we were so worried—”
A wailing police siren interrupted Bess. Nancy’s heartbeat quickened. Ahead lay a major intersection. A Mapleton police cruiser, its red light flashing, turned the corner and headed straight for them. Then another cruiser. And another.
Turning in her seat, Nancy watched out the back window as the cruisers sped up the access road. She sighed in relief. There was no reason to think the police might stop them, but it would take some fast explaining if they did.
“So what exactly did happen back there?” Bess asked as George took the road back to the parking lot in downtown Mapleton where Ned had parked.
Nancy briefly went over the events for her friends’ benefit. “That’s awful,” George said when Nancy had finished. “You really could have been hurt.”
Bess nodded in agreement from the front seat. “Who do you think it could have been, Nancy?” she asked.
“And why were there two of them?” Ned put in.
Nancy shook her head. “I don’t know. There are a lot of puzzling questions. How did ‘Nancy Drew’ get into the country club in the first place? Someone must have sponsored her, but who?”
“There’s no way of knowing since she didn’t sign in under the name ‘Nancy Drew,’” Bess said.
“That’s right,” Nancy confirmed. “What’s even worse, though, is that without specific dates and times, it’s going to be even more difficult for me to come up with an alibi. I don’t even know what time I have to account for.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration.
George had pulled to a stop in the space next to Ned’s car in the municipal parking lot. Bess got out and held the door for Ned.
“Try not to think about it any more tonight, Nancy,” Ned said softly. He leaned over to give her a kiss, then stepped out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
George pulled out of the parking lot and headed for River Heights. Nancy was tired and grateful for the opportunity to relax comfortably on the back seat.
Turning in the passenger seat, Bess asked, “Did you manage to get a look at the guy who tried to strangle you?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Nancy’s eyes felt heavy with sleep. “From what he said, though, he knew who I was.”
George’s voice was tight with worry. “Nan, what if it was Joe Crain? What if he followed you there?”
“I doubt it, George. For one thing, why pick the country club? It seems like an odd place to come after me.”
“But he did threaten to get you,” Bess pointed out.
“It just doesn’t fit, Bess.” Sighing, Nancy closed her eyes. “Remember, there were two people at the club tonight. One of them was probably a woman. She lured Ned away from the office. Why? Obviously, so that her partner—the man—could get into that office. I surprised him when I came out of there, looking for Ned.”
“What if it was Crain, and his accomplice was the girl impersonating you? That would fit with your father’s theory,” George remarked, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.
Nancy wondered if George could be right. Crain might be the mastermind, after all. Indeed, he might even have set up this whole scam so he could lure Nancy Drew into a trap and kill her!
It was a chilling thought, and Nancy was sure of only one thing. She’d have to move quickly on this one. Her life was in danger.
• • •
Late the next morning Nancy plodded down the stairs, tying the belt of her pale green terry cloth robe. When she trudged into the kitchen, Hannah offered her a welcoming smile.
Nancy blinked sleepily. “Morning, Hannah. Didn’t mean to oversleep,” she murmured.
“I thought you were going to sleep all day.” Hannah set an empty plate on the table. “I’ve been keeping your breakfast warm in the oven.”
“Thanks, Hannah. You’re the best.” Nancy opened the refrigerator door, reached in and took out a carton of orange juice. “Where’s Dad?”
“Chief McGinnis called a little while ago. Your father’s at the police station.” Hannah took a pan from the oven, grabbed a spatula, and slipped a piece of hot French toast onto Nancy’s plate. “If I’m being nosy, let me know. But I’d really like to know what you were doing out in the middle of the night.”
“It was all in the line of duty, Hannah.” Smiling, Nancy brought a glass of orange juice to her lips.
Carson Drew came through the back door. “Finally awake, is she?” He stamped the snow from his boots, slipped them off, then took off his overcoat and laid it across the back of a chair. “I have a little present for you, Nancy.”
He tossed a manila envelope on the kitchen table. Setting aside her orange juice, Nancy reached over and picked it up.
“I had asked Chief McGinnis to come up with a photo of Crain for us. He came through this morning.”
“Is it a recent shot?” Nancy asked, lifting the envelope flap.
“Apparently it was taken last year.”
Nancy pulled out a glossy color photo of a good-looking, curly-haired young man with a tight, ironic smile. Her stomach quivered in shock. His sharp nose, high cheekbones, and dark brown hair were instantly familiar.
She had seen that face yesterday afternoon, behind the wheel of a station wagon. Even worse, she’d seen it again, on Lieutenant Kowalski’s snapshots of the murder scene.
Joe Crain was the man who’d been found dead at the Mapleton Country Club!
Chapter
Twelve
NANCY PUT DOWN the photo, her eyes widening in shock.
Carson asked, “Are you all right, Nancy?”
She nodded and tucked the photo back into the envelope. “Dad—”
The sound of someone hammering at the Drews’ front door cut Nancy off. Hannah went to answer it.
Moments later Nancy heard the housekeeper’s grim voice. “Oh, it’s you again. What do you want?”
Lieutenant Kowalski’s voice drifted into the kitchen. “I’d like to talk to Ms. Drew, if I may.”
Carson Drew reacted at once and moved from the kitchen toward the front door. Nancy followed her father into the hallway.
Lieutenant Kowalski and Officer Murillo stood in the doorway. The lieutenant held open a small wallet, displaying his gold detective’s badge. “I’m here on police business, sir. May I come in?”
“Let them in, Hannah.” Striding forward, Carson extended his hand in welcome. “What can we do for you, Officer?”
After shaking hands, Lieutenant Kowalski introduced himself and his partner. They all trooped into the living room, a manila envelope under Officer Murillo’s arm.
“We sent copies of the murder victim’s fingerprints to the FBI in Washington,” the lieutenant told Nancy. “Turned out he’d been arrested before. His name was Joseph Crain.”
Carson raised his eyebrows. “What? Crain’s been murdered?”
Kowalski turned to Nancy’s father. “Mr. Drew, I understand you helped the DA build a case against Crain in Chicago.”
“That’s right,” Carson replied, meeting the lieutenant’s eyes and taking a seat on the sofa.
“When I spoke to the DA, he seemed to feel that Crain was a threat to
you.”
“That was my impression, too, Lieutenant,” Carson replied. “In fact, I warned Nancy to watch out for him.”
“Mr. Drew, would you mind giving me an account of your whereabouts at four o’clock yesterday afternoon?” the lieutenant asked.
“Not at all.” Carson leaned forward on the couch. “I was at this week’s meeting of the local Bar Association. We met until nearly five-thirty.”
Nancy noticed the dissatisfied expression on the lieutenant’s face. He cast a sour look at Nancy. “Well, your alibi’s more solid than your daughter’s. She’s only got three witnesses who can place her at the Mapleton Country Club. And two of those are her best friends.”
Nancy opened her mouth to defend herself, but her father interrupted. “Listen, Lieutenant,” he said, standing up, “I know you think my daughter’s a prime suspect, but you’re treading on thin legal ground here. You have no right to accuse her without evidence or proof.”
“Crain was killed on the club’s access road, about a mile from where your daughter was,” Linda Murillo pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean a thing!” Nancy finally blurted out. “From the very beginning of this case you’ve acted as if I’m guilty until proven innocent. It’s not fair!”
Carson came over to Nancy and put his arm around her shoulder. “My daughter’s right, Lieutenant. I’d go easy if I were you.”
“I’d like to ask one question,” Lieutenant Kowalski said coolly. “A minute ago, when I mentioned Crain was dead, your father was surprised. You weren’t. How come?”
Touché, thought Nancy with a grimace. “That’s because I had a look at this a few minutes ago,” she said, handing him the envelope. “Chief McGinnis got it for me.”
Lieutenant Kowalski pulled the photo out, gave it a hasty glance and, exchanging a look with Officer Murillo, slipped it back in again. “Ms. Drew, I thought we had a little talk yesterday about your status.”
Linda touched his jacket sleeve. “Pete—”
“Lieutenant, my daughter has every right to try to clear herself,” Carson said.
“Yes, sir, she does,” Lieutenant Kowalski replied politely but firmly. “And she can hire a licensed investigator if she wants to. Otherwise, she’d better sit tight in River Heights and stay out of my jurisdiction.” He turned to Officer Murillo. “Now I think we should be going.”