The Thirteenth Pearl

you said yesterday, some people are intimidated by

  courts and lawsuits and lawyers, so he might have felt

  pressured to give in early.”

  “Pressured by whom?” Nancy wondered aloud. “And

  with what?” Then the waiter arrived with their food,

  and Nancy and her father settled into their big

  hamburgers, sharing a large plate of onion rings. Nancy

  looked around her at the other lawyers and

  professionals enjoying their lunches, probably talking

  business, making deals, discussing cases.

  After the meal, while they were having coffee and

  sharing a piece of apple pie, Nancy decided to tell her

  dad something about her discovery of the E-mail log

  file and Henry's list of clients, and ask him what he

  thought they might mean.

  “Dad, when I was copying those files yesterday, I

  happened to read the E-mail transmission log.

  Someone in your office sent E-mail to Williams and

  Brown—on the first day you got each case. And Henry

  Yi has a handwritten list of all those clients, too,” she

  added. “Did you speak to him about your concerns?”

  “No,” her father replied. “I haven't talked about this

  with anyone at the office. But it's not necessarily

  suspicious that he compiled a list like that,” he

  continued. “I told you, he's the computer expert

  around the office. He probably was keeping track of

  settled cases so we'd know what had to be cleared off

  the main computer system—what you're doing now.

  And as for the E-mail log file, that could have been

  notification to Williams and Brown that we would be

  handling the cases. It doesn't mean anyone sent them

  information they might use to force a settlement.

  Besides, who in my office would do such a thing?”

  “Well, isn't it a little strange that all of the cases that

  settled early were handled by the same law firm?”

  Nancy persisted.

  “Williams and Brown usually represents the in-

  surance company interests, so it's not all that surprising

  they're involved in all these cases,” her father replied.

  “And I know Bill Williams and John Brown—they're

  solid guys, with a successful law practice. They'd never

  do anything like try to intimidate my clients. That's

  against the law, for one thing. They could be disbarred.

  And they've got a nice family firm over there—”

  “I know, I know,” Nancy interrupted. “When I was

  delivering those files to their office yesterday, I

  overheard Williams saying to an insurance agent that

  Brown's son had joined the firm when he got out of law

  school. And then Brown was talking to his son in the

  elevator about how proud he was of him for saving

  money for their insurance company clients.”

  Mr. Drew laughed. “John Brown's always talking

  about that son of his. He was telling me at the

  Northeast Legal Convention that John Junior was

  having trouble at Walker Law. I'm sure his father's glad

  he turned out to be an asset to the firm.”

  “Walker Law?” Nancy asked. “Didn't Blaine Warner

  go there, too?”

  “Yes, but she was a superstar, number one in her

  class,” her father replied. “We were lucky to get her.”

  “Who knows?” Nancy shrugged. “Maybe there's

  some new associate at Williams and Brown who's

  hooked up with an expert computer hacker and figured

  out a way to hack into our computer system and steal

  passwords and E-mail out sensitive files and—”

  Mr. Drew laughed. “I think you've got mystery on

  the brain, my girl. That sounds far too complicated to

  me. And I don't think anyone here in my office would

  be involved in anything underhanded, or send out

  privileged information via E-mail or any other means.”

  Nancy had her own suspicions about the people in

  her father's office, but decided not to tell him until she

  had more proof.

  Nancy settled back in her booth, and picked up her

  coffee. Her eyes drifted past her father's shoulder—

  she had been concentrating on him during their

  conversation—and she nearly fell out of her seat.

  There was Henry Yi grinning at her from the next

  booth!

  8. Scared Away

  “Henry,” Nancy squeaked, startling her father.

  “My name's not Henry,” Mr. Drew said, smiling at

  his daughter. Then he followed her gaze and turned

  around to look behind him. “Oh, hi, Henry; hi, Blaine.

  You were right, Nancy. This is the lawyers' hot spot.”

  “Hi, Carson,” Blaine said warmly. “Hi, Nancy. I

  decided I was being too hard on everyone, so I offered

  to take Henry out to lunch.”

  “And I, of course, graciously—and hungrily—

  accepted,” Henry said, wiping his mouth.

  Nancy sat absolutely silent, stunned that both Blaine

  and Henry might have overheard some or all of the

  conversation with her father. “Hi, guys,” she said

  weakly. “I guess this is what they mean when they say

  you never get out of the office. The office comes with

  you.”

  “Especially you,” Blaine said, talking to Nancy but

  gazing at Carson Drew. “You live with the boss.” She

  pulled out an envelope of cash to pay the check.

  “So, you got to the bank after all,” Nancy said. She

  looked at the thick wad of bills.

  “Oh, um, yes, I went after work last night,” Blaine

  said, hastily stuffing the envelope back in her purse.

  Nancy's father paid for their lunch, and the

  foursome picked up their coats and bags, preparing to

  leave the restaurant.

  “Blaine's taking me to court this afternoon,” Henry

  said to Nancy, “so you should have the library to

  yourself, unless Byron shows up to keep you company.”

  “I've got a lot of work to keep me busy,” she replied.

  Back at the office, Carson Drew went into his

  private office, and Nancy returned to the law library to

  continue her chores. While she performed the routine

  tasks, her mind was occupied with questions about the

  case.

  How could Williams & Brown scare her father's

  clients? They would open themselves up to disbarment

  if they interfered with another lawyer's client. Besides,

  Nancy mused, they had to have a contact inside her

  dad's office—and I know it's not Ms. Hanson, even if

  her name is on the E-mail.

  Checking the door to be sure it was closed and she

  was alone, Nancy called up the file for Jeannette King.

  After looking for her phone number at the bank, she

  dialed.

  “River Heights Savings and Loan,” a woman's voice

  said.

  “Hello, this is Nancy Drew. May I please speak with

  Jeannette King?” she said.

  “Certainly. May I say what this is in reference to?”

  the woman asked.

  “It's regarding a confidential legal matter,” Nancy

  replied.

  There was a pause, and then another woman came

 
on the line. “This is Jeannette King,” she said

  cautiously. “How may I help you?”

  “Ms. King, this is Nancy Drew, Carson Drew's

  daughter. I'm just following up on some of his recent

  cases, and I wanted to ask you why you settled your

  case so quickly.”

  “I'm sorry, Ms. Drew, or whoever you are, I don't

  discuss legal matters over the phone,” Ms. King replied

  quickly, and hung up.

  Okay. I understand her desire for privacy, Nancy

  thought. Then she dialed the number for James Fox's

  political office.

  “James Fox for Mayor,” answered a bright male

  voice.

  “Hello, this is Nancy Drew. May I please speak with

  Mr. Fox?”

  “What is this regarding?” the man asked.

  “A recent legal case Mr. Fox decided not to pursue,”

  Nancy replied, reading through his file.

  “Hold one moment, please,” the man said. Nancy

  waited, and then he came back on the line. “I'm sorry,

  the candidate is unavailable at this time. Thank you for

  calling.” The line went dead.

  That's two, thought Nancy. She dialed the number

  for Harriet Wasser.

  “Wasser Real Estate,” a female voice answered the

  phone.

  “Hello, I'd like to speak with Harriet Wasser,

  please,” Nancy said politely.

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  “I'm calling from Carson Drew's office,” Nancy

  replied. She could hear voices in the background.

  “Harriet, it's someone from that lawyer's office,” the

  woman's voice called out in a muffled tone. Nancy

  couldn't hear the words of the angry reply. Then the

  woman spoke into the telephone. “I'm sorry, Ms.

  Wasser doesn't have any dealings with Mr. Drew's firm

  at this time.” And she hung up.

  Oh boy, thought Nancy. This was going to be hard.

  She called up the file on Bob Jamison, and dialed his

  phone number.

  “Jamison Construction,” a pleasant voice answered

  the phone.

  “Hello, I'd like to speak with Bob Jamison, please,”

  she said.

  “May I ask what this in reference to?” the voice

  asked politely.

  “I'm calling from Carson Drew's office,” she said.

  “Hold one moment,” the voice said quickly.

  An angry man picked up the phone. “Who is this?”

  he asked.

  “Mr. Jamison?” Nancy said. “This is Nancy Drew,

  Carson Drew's daughter. I'm just following up on some

  recent cases here in the office and—”

  “Look, Ms. Drew, I told your father I wanted to

  settle this case right away, and that's all I have to say. I

  don't know what's going on over there, but I won't be

  dealing with your firm again.”

  “Mr. Jamison, there must be some misunder-

  standing. You've had a long professional history with

  my father, and I'm sure—”

  “I'm sure it won't go on, not when I get threatening

  phone calls whispering about private information from

  prior cases in your office. Yesterday I was just scared,

  but today I'm mad. You'd better not call me back,

  unless you want a new lawsuit on your hands. There

  are other lawyers in this town, you know.” He slammed

  the phone down.

  Nancy sat back, stunned. Someone had been

  threatening her father's clients with information from

  his old case files. But who? And why?

  Nancy decided to look through Carson Drew's

  personnel files for more background on the suspects.

  She accessed the administrative directory. She knew

  Ms. Hanson scanned in job applicants' résumés, as well

  as any notes from interviews held with prospective

  lawyers, paralegals, and interns. Nancy scrolled

  through the long list of files, searching for background

  information on Henry Yi, Blaine Warner, and Byron

  Thomas.

  After a moment Nancy came upon Byron Thomas's

  résumé. He had graduated from Marks University with

  a degree in English literature, and was a student at

  Barnes Law School. She could see from his

  employment history that he had taken a year off to earn

  money for his law school tuition, as he had said.

  Next, Nancy found Henry Yi's résumé. He had

  attended Taft College and taken a specialized course

  after graduation to become a paralegal. “I guess he

  must be pretty smart, or my dad wouldn't have hired

  him,” Nancy murmured. “But his résumé's all over the

  place. It seems as if he didn't—or doesn't—know what

  he wants to do.” In college, Henry studied

  mathematics,

  computer

  programming,

  political

  science, English literature, molecular biology and

  biophysics, and philosophy.

  Finally Nancy called up Blaine Warner's impressive

  résumé. Blaine had attended Walker Law, a very

  prestigious school, where she had been the first female

  editor of the Law Review. She had won many victories

  in mock court proceedings, and she had graduated with

  a perfect grade-point average.

  Blaine also had held summer intern positions at

  some large law offices in the city, but Nancy didn't see

  any connection to Williams & Brown. “Other than John

  Brown Junior's going to Walker Law,” Nancy said

  softly. “But it's a big school. They might not even have

  known each other.”

  The library door opened, and Nancy quickly

  returned to the section on the closed cases. Byron

  Thomas entered, head down, carrying a stack of books

  and papers. He nodded hello to Nancy and set up at

  one of the other computer stations.

  As they both tapped away at their keyboards, Nancy

  heard the telltale whine of a modem dialing another

  computer on the telephone line. She looked up and

  saw Byron staring back at her. He quickly turned away,

  then said, “I have to go online to use the Lexis-Nexis

  legal database.”

  “Oh, I've heard of that,” Nancy said. “All law

  students and lawyers use that for research, right?”

  “Yeah,” Byron mumbled. He looked at the crumpled

  papers on his desk and typed away.

  “Byron, let me ask you something,” Nancy said. “Do

  you know if the Internet's all connected? When you go

  on the World Wide Web or use Lexis-Nexis or just

  send E-mail—are they separate, or are they all linked

  together?”

  “The Internet is one big network of networks,”

  Byron said, still typing.

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  Byron paused in his entry and looked up at her.

  “Well, big organizations have their own computer

  networks—lots of computers linked together. And each

  computer in the network has a unique ID number. You

  can tell what kind of organization a computer is in by

  the last part of its Internet address—”

  “Is that an IP address?” Nancy asked, remembering

  the term Bess had used.

  “That's
right,” Byron said. “IP stands for Internet

  Protocol. So, as I was saying, the last part of that name

  tells you what kind of organization the computer

  belongs to. For instance, educational institutions, like

  schools and universities, all end in edu.' Government

  offices, like NASA or the White House, end in gov.'

  Military groups, like the navy or the air force, end in

  mil.' And commercial companies, like television

  networks or computer manufacturers, end in com.' ”

  “Thanks,” Nancy said with a smile. “This is

  interesting. Then all these networks are linked

  together, and that makes up the Internet?”

  “That's how I understand it,” Byron answered.

  “There are other sub-networks that use other com-

  munications protocols. There's UUCP, for Unix-to-

  Unix Copy Program, and USENET, where the

  newsgroups are stored, and BITNET, which believe it

  or not, stands for Because It's Time.'

  “I think there are also separate networks for banks

  and private bulletin boards. But they all have to use the

  phone lines, so I guess they could be connected in

  some way. You should ask Henry. He's the computer

  whiz around here.”

  “You sound like an expert as far as I'm concerned,”

  Nancy said. “Where'd you learn all that stuff about the

  Internet anyway?”

  “Oh, you know, they teach you how to navigate the

  Net in law school, so you can do legal research on-line,

  download articles, things like that. You really can find

  out almost anything over the Internet,” he continued.

  “There's an amazing amount of information available, if

  you know how to access it. But I'm no expert, really,”

  he concluded.

  “Well, you sure seem to know a lot,” Nancy said,

  rising and stretching her legs. “Mind if I look in? I've

  heard Lexis-Nexis can be really interesting.”

  As she began to walk toward Byron's machine, he

  almost jumped out of his chair, and abruptly switched

  off the computer. Nancy looked at him with alarm.

  “Don't you know you should log off before you turn

  off the computer?” Nancy asked. “Otherwise you can

  lose data. Look, I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just

  thought—”

  Byron mumbled an excuse, grabbed his papers,

  popped a floppy disk out of the drive, and rushed out

  of the library. What's he hiding? Nancy wondered.

  Nancy shook her head and sat back down at her

  computer station. She continued making copies of the