The Thirteenth Pearl

by Carolyn Keene

  insurance company clients a lot of money by getting

  people to settle out of court. Some of her father's

  clients had even agreed to settle for very low sums.

  As they rode down in the elevator, Nancy's mind

  raced. Was someone at Williams & Brown getting her

  father's clients to accept early settlements? Could this

  young man be involved, hoping to impress his father

  and the other partner?

  “So, where do you want to eat today, Johnny-boy?”

  the older man asked as the elevator doors opened on

  the ground floor.

  “Don't call me that, Dad, you know I hate it,” the

  young man said, annoyed. “How about the Steak and

  Ale.”

  “Yes indeed, John Junior—sir—the Steak and Ale it

  is. Anything for our rising star.” John Brown Sr. smiled

  affectionately at his son. Nancy faced the front of the

  elevator and exited ahead of the two men.

  Nancy was sure there was something going on, hut

  how were they making it work? And who was behind

  it? She walked slowly through the lobby of the office

  building, her head down, deep in thought about how

  these cases might have been settled early, and about

  the mysterious E-mail log she had discovered earlier.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured as she bumped into

  someone. Looking up, she saw it was Blaine Warner!

  4. A Stranger in the Shadows

  “Blaine!” Nancy exclaimed. “Hi. I'm just coming from

  an errand to Williams and Brown. Do you have an

  appointment there?”

  “No. Why would I be going there? I don't have

  anything to do with Williams and Brown,” Blaine said

  sharply. “And I thought you were supposed to be

  working in the law library,” she added.

  “I'm on my way back right now,” Nancy said,

  struggling to hide her annoyance behind a professional

  demeanor.

  “I'm going to lunch,” Blaine explained. “I just had to

  stop at the bank first. The branch is on the other side

  of the atrium lobby. I'll see you later hack at the office.

  I know you've still got a lot of file copying to get done.

  Do you think you'll have completed all of it by

  tomorrow?”

  Nancy smiled but wondered why Blaine wanted her

  out of the office so quickly. “Oh, no,” she said. “There

  really is a lot of it. It's going to take several days,

  especially if I have to interrupt the computer work to

  run errands like this one.”

  Blaine checked her watch. “I guess I'll have to skip

  the bank, or I'll be late for lunch. I'll see you later.” She

  exited ahead of Nancy and hurried up the street.

  Nancy saw her enter the same steak-house where John

  Brown Sr. and John Brown Jr. had made plans to eat

  lunch.

  What a coincidence, Nancy thought after she

  grabbed a quick sandwich and continued back to

  Carson Drew's law firm.

  When Nancy arrived at the office, she greeted Ms.

  Hanson in the reception area, then proceeded to the

  law library to continue her work. Henry Yi had

  replaced Byron Thomas at one of the other computer

  terminals. He looked up as Nancy entered.

  “Hi,” he said. “Solve any mysteries on your lunch

  hour?”

  “I didn't have time. I ran some papers over to

  Williams and Brown for my father. Where's Byron?”

  “Oh, Blaine has him doing research for her over at

  the courthouse. I'm just making some notes for her.

  The poet is great at writing, but I get stuck with all the

  technical stuff. You know, no law office runs without a

  great paralegal, and that's me.”

  Nancy looked down at Henry's elegant script. He

  was making notes in the margins of his computer

  printout.

  Nancy repeated, “The poet? Do you mean Byron?”

  “One and the same,” Henry replied. “He's always

  scribbling away at something. Maybe he's writing love

  letters.” He grinned mischievously up at Nancy.

  Nancy decided to change the subject. “You certainly

  have distinctive handwriting,” she said, her eyes drawn

  to the artistic swoop of his carefully drawn letters.

  “Thank you,” Henry said “Even though I'm no poet,

  I'll bet I could pen a few romantic lines myself . . . if

  the right woman came along.”

  Nancy rolled her eyes, then went to log on to her

  computer again. She looked for the password Ms.

  Hanson had given her that morning, but couldn't find

  it.

  “What are you looking for, Nancy?” Henry asked.

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Ms. Hanson wrote down a temporary password for

  me to get into the computer system this morning,”

  Nancy said. “And now I can't seem to find it.”

  “Oh, I know all the passwords around here,” Henry

  said. “This should work.” He tapped on her keyboard.

  Nancy looked up at Henry, who was leaning over

  her shoulder as he typed. “Does everyone know one

  another's passwords in the office?” Nancy asked.

  “Sure,” Henry replied. “We're always finishing up

  work for one another, so we have to be able to access

  one another's files. It's no big deal.”

  Henry continued to stand behind Nancy and study

  the screen as she accessed some files, preparing to

  copy them onto a floppy disk.

  “What are you working on this afternoon?” Henry

  asked, leaning again over her shoulder.

  “Same thing as this morning,” Nancy replied. “And I

  find it a little difficult to concentrate with you hovering

  over me like that,” she said firmly.

  “Sorry. I'm always sticking my nose into everything,”

  Henry said. “I'll just mosey on over here and get back

  to my own work.”

  Henry walked away. Nancy checked to make sure he

  was safely back at his own computer terminal before

  calling up the suspicious computer E-mail log file that

  showed that someone had sent E-mail to the opposing

  attorneys on the same dates as the initial client

  interviews.

  Nancy studied the log file carefully, and decided to

  print out a copy of it so she could check it out later.

  She thought that perhaps she would ask Bess Marvin

  for her opinion, too.

  I should also show this to Dad and ask him what it

  means, Nancy thought. As the printer whirred, she

  decided not to worry her father until she had more

  information.

  “Making hard copies?” Henry asked. “I thought you

  were just backing up the computer files on floppies.”

  “Yes, this is just a record of the E-mail transmission

  log on this case,” Nancy said. “I thought I'd add it to

  the paper file, in case someone wants to check on it

  later.”

  “Those are dead cases, Nancy,” he said. “No one's

  ever going to look at them again.”

  Before Nancy could reply, Byron Thomas rushed

  into the library and hurried over to the computer

  station he had been working at b
efore, the one at

  which Henry now sat.

  “Where's my disk?” he asked Henry frantically.

  “Relax, Byronic Man, it's right here,” Henry replied.

  “I took it out and put it in a sleeve before I started my

  work. Not to worry. How was the courthouse?”

  Byron grabbed the disk out of Henry's outstretched

  hand, tucked it inside his folder, and rushed out of the

  library without answering Henry's question. Nancy

  looked at Henry, her eyebrows raised.

  “Is he always this excitable?” she asked. “He seemed

  kind of quiet when we were working in here this

  morning.”

  “Oh, Byron's just one of those sensitive, artistic

  types,” Henry replied. “He doesn't like to let anyone in

  on his big, important secrets.”

  The secret of how he's paying his law school tuition?

  Nancy wondered. Could he be the one sending

  information to Williams & Brown—and are they paying

  him for it?

  The library doors opened again. This time it was

  Blaine, with the same harried manner Byron had

  shown a few minutes earlier.

  “Where's Byron?” she asked sharply. “He was

  supposed to look up some information at the court-

  house and bring it to me right away. And what are you

  two doing sitting around talking? You both have work

  to do, don't you?”

  Nancy quietly continued her work, not responding

  to the angry woman. “Byron was in here a minute ago,

  Ms. Warner,” Henry replied. “I think he just got back

  from the courthouse and was headed to your office.”

  “My office is right across the hall, Henry. Why did

  he stop in here to gab with you and Nancy? Maybe he

  can explain that to me.”

  Blaine turned on her heel and left the library,,

  closing the door behind her. Hard.

  Nancy shook her head. “What's up with her?”

  “She's always pretty tough,” Henry said. “You' don't

  get to be the first female editor of the Law Review at

  Walker Law by being a pushover, believe me. But

  frankly, she seems worse today than I've ever seen her.

  Do you think she's jealous of you?”

  “Jealous of me?” Nancy asked. “What for?”

  “Oh, I don't know. She admires your father so

  much.” Henry paused thoughtfully. “I mean, when

  you're not in the office, she gets all his attention.

  Maybe when you're around, she feels left out, like a

  fifth wheel. Maybe she feels threatened.”

  I'm his daughter, Nancy thought. Blaine's an

  associate in his law firm. What more attention could

  she want from him? Nancy frowned. That was

  something to think about.

  “Where's there a phone I can use to make an outside

  call?” Nancy asked Henry.

  “Well, if you don't want to use the one at your

  computer station, there's one right across the hall, in

  the conference room next to Blaine's office,” Henry

  replied.

  Nancy excused herself and walked over to the empty

  conference room. It was time to call Bess. Maybe Bess

  would know how to find out who had sent the

  mysterious E-mail and what had been transmitted.

  Nancy closed the conference room door, which had

  a smoked-glass window. She walked to the end of the

  long table in the conference room. She dialed her

  friend's number.

  “Hi, Nancy!” Bess said, her voice reflecting her

  happiness at hearing from Nancy. “You're lucky. I was

  just about to go on-line, and I haven't got a separate

  phone line for my computer yet. All you would've

  gotten for the next couple of hours was a busy signal.”

  “A couple of hours? You've really become serious

  about this Internet thing, haven't you?” Nancy asked.

  “It's so interesting. You can find out anything on-

  line,” Bess said excitedly. “So, what's up?”

  “I'm helping out at my dad's office,” Nancy

  explained. “In fact, I was calling to pick your brain for

  some on-line expertise.”

  “I'd be glad to help out,” Bess said.

  “I've discovered something strange going on here at

  the office,” Nancy elaborated. “A number of cases have

  been settling unusually early, and it looks like someone

  sent E-mail to the opposing attorneys on the very first

  day each of the cases was received. My dad said all

  these clients of his wanted to settle right away.”

  “That does smell rotten,” Bess said. “What kind of

  Internet connection do you have?”

  “I made a printout of the file. If you look it over,

  could you give me more information about it?”

  “I'll do my best. Have you told your father about

  your discovery yet?” Bess asked.

  “No, I don't want to worry him at this stage. I only

  have suspicions. Maybe you can help me get some

  proof. What are you doing tonight?” Nancy asked. “Can

  we meet for dinner after I get out of work?”

  “Sure,” Bess agreed. “Let's go to that new restaurant

  downtown, the Sacred Cow. It's right next door to a

  place I've heard a lot about, the Art-Dot-Café.”

  “Art-Dot-Café?” Nancy said. “What's that?”

  “Oh, it's one of these cool new cyber-cappuccino

  places,” Bess explained. “You can drink coffee and chat

  on the Internet. I heard about it on-line the other day,

  and I've been dying to go there.”

  “Okay,” Nancy said. “Sounds great. The Sacred Cow

  it is. Six o'clock sound good to you?”

  “Perfect,” Bess said. “And now I'm going online.”

  “See you later,” Nancy said.

  As she hung up the phone, Nancy noticed a shadowy

  movement beyond the smoked-glass window in the

  conference room door. Strange, she thought. Someone

  had been eavesdropping on her phone call!

  5. Caught Off Guard

  Nancy jumped up, ran around the long table, and

  threw open the conference room door to catch

  whoever it was. The hallway was empty, and Ms.

  Hanson was not in the reception area, so Nancy

  couldn't ask her if she'd seen anyone. Who had

  overheard Nancy expressing her suspicions to Bess on

  the phone? Nancy realized she had gotten so wrapped

  up in the conversation that she had forgotten to remain

  alert.

  She could see Blaine sitting in her office next door

  to the conference room, head bent forward over her

  papers. Byron exited from the copy room and headed

  for the library, where Nancy saw Henry standing by the

  door inside. It could have been any of them, Nancy

  thought to herself. I wonder which one?

  Nancy returned to her file-copying work for the rest

  of the afternoon. At five-thirty, she went in to her

  father's office to say good night to him, and tell him

  that she was meeting Bess for dinner.

  “Computer problems already?” he asked. “I meant

  to tell you that you can also ask Henry for help in that

  area. He's our resident computer whiz.”

  “It's nothing like
that,” Nancy assured her father.

  “We're just getting together. Tell Hannah I'll be home

  late and she shouldn't worry about me,” she added.

  “Okay, I will. But you know that won't stop her.” Mr.

  Drew gave his daughter a tired smile. “Have a good

  time. See you later.”

  Nancy checked that the printout of the E-mail log

  file was in her leather portfolio before picking up her

  suit jacket. On her way out of the door, she said good

  night to Ms. Hanson.

  “Get some rest, Nancy,” Ms. Hanson said with a

  smile. “You look tired.”

  “I am tired,” Nancy replied. “I'm going out with

  Bess for dinner, but I shouldn't be out too late.”

  “Please say hello to her for me,” Ms. Hanson said.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “I will. See you in the morning,” Nancy said, closing

  the double glass doors to the office behind her. She

  rode the elevator down to the main floor.

  Nancy strolled down the street in the late afternoon

  sunshine. She was looking forward to spending some

  time with Bess, even if they would mostly be talking

  about the world of the Internet.

  Nancy's walk took her beyond the downtown

  business area to the industrial district down by the

  river. It had undergone a renaissance in the past few

  years. Trendy restaurants, coffee bars, boutiques, gift

  shops, and bookstores had sprung up in the converted

  warehouse area.

  Nancy spotted the sign for the Sacred Cow

  restaurant hanging over a small doorway and made her

  way toward it. The sign had a whimsical painting of a

  blue sky with white fluffy clouds and a brown-and-

  white cow with wings and a halo, playing a lyre.

  In the next building was a small coffee bar with the

  sign Art.Café at the door, just as Bess had told Nancy

  on the phone.

  Bess was waiting inside the Sacred Cow, sitting at a

  small table next to a large ficus tree by the front

  window. She was already working on a shrimp cocktail

  appetizer.

  “Hi, Nance,” Bess said, jumping up to give her

  friend a hug. Bess's blond hair shone in the late

  afternoon sunlight streaming in the window. “Sorry I

  started without you. I was starved, and I didn't know if

  you'd have to stay late at the office—or if the bad guys

  had caught you already.”

  “No talk about the bad guys yet,” Nancy said. “Let's