it.”
“We already did,” Nancy said. “There's nothing on it
but files from the Harris case.”
“She shouldn't be taking that out of the office
anyway,” Henry said. “That material is highly
confidential and very important to the case. Boy, this
really does make it look like Blaine's the one behind all
this. Sorry I ever doubted you, Ms. Hanson,” he called
out to the empty reception area.
“Well, Mr. Know-it-all, do you know Blaine's logon
password?” Bess asked.
“Of course I do,” Henry replied.
“Then let's go into her office and have a look at her
private files,” Nancy said. “We need solid proof that
she's the one who's been sending information to
Williams and Brown.”
The trio turned off the computer and the lights in
the library, and walked across the hall to Blaine's
office. There they switched on her small desk lamp and
computer, and waited for it to warm up.
When the screen prompt glowed, Henry entered
Blaine's log-on password, and they started to scan all
the files and directories relating to E-mail, file
transfers, and communications.
“She's got Williams and Brown's E-mail address on
her modem address book,” Henry pointed out.
“That's not necessarily suspicious,” Nancy said. Her
eyes darted over the information on the screen. “She
could have that for legitimate purposes. What else is
there?”
Henry started pulling floppy disks out of Blaine's
storage file and feeding them into the disk drive one
after the other. “Why would Blaine do something like
this?” he asked.
“She went to Walker Law with John Brown Junior of
Williams and Brown,” Nancy said. “And they do know
each other. I saw them having lunch together at the
deli yesterday. Maybe he's paying her to get him
information he can use to settle these cases, save
money for Williams and Brown's clients, and impress
his father.”
“Does he have curly brown hair?” Bess asked.
“He sure does,” Nancy replied.
“Then he was with Blaine when we saw them at the
Sacred Cow the other night,” Bess added excitedly. “I
saw him at Williams and Brown today when I delivered
those papers for your dad. I knew I'd seen him before.”
“But this is all just speculation,” Nancy said. “I need
hard evidence.”
“What's this?” Bess interrupted, pointing at
something far down on the list of files in the directory
of the last disk Henry had fed into the drive.
“It says phone bills,' ” Henry read aloud.
“But everything else in this directory is legal files
and case notes and office correspondence,” Nancy
noted. “Why is there a file of phone bills in here?”
“Let's take a look,” Henry said, opening up the file
labeled “phone bills.”
And there, in the mislabeled file, were personal
background notes on all the clients who had settled
early.
“Look at this,” Nancy whispered. “This information
comes from their old criminal case files. I remember
some of this from when I read through the records in
storage. Bob Jamison's old injury, Jeannette King's
false theft charge, Harriet Wasser's indictment for
withholding heat from her tenants. This is all
information that they'd want kept quiet.”
“Wow, Councilman Fox had a drunk-driving
conviction?” Henry exclaimed. “Mister Get-Tough-on-
Crime? No wonder he settled fast. He wouldn't want
that to be made public, especially not right now, when
he's running for mayor.”
“And look at the bottom of this file,” Bess said. “It's
a list of dollar amounts and dates. I'll bet that's what
John Brown Junior paid her for sending him this
information.”
“This proves it, all right,” Nancy said. “This
information could definitely have been used to
pressure those clients into accepting early settlements.”
“But how can we prove she's been working with
John Brown?” Bess asked. “That E-mail log file just
shows Williams and Brown as the destination phone
number. It doesn't give any receiver names.”
“That log file shows only the information covered in
our communications program,” Henry explained. “Like
the fact that MHans made the transmission.” He shook
his head. “I can't believe I fell for that. Blaine must
have changed her screen name in our in-house E-mail
logs.”
“I knew Ms. Hanson wouldn't do this,” Nancy said.
“And look at the transmission times. They're too late at
night for her.”
“We need the base information stored in the mail
server,” Henry said. “Give me some dates,” he said, his
fingers flying over the keyboard.
The two girls watched in fascination as the screen
filled with letters, numbers, names, dates, abbrevi-
ations.
“What is all that?” Nancy asked, mystified.
“Most mail programs filter out all this stuff,” Henry
said. “But it's what tells the mail server how to route
the mail, identifies each computer user who sends E-
mail out, and where it went. Take a look.” He pointed
to what looked to Nancy like a coded language.
From [email protected] Fri May 22 19:26:03
1998
Received: from drew.com by willbr.com with
SMTP (1.39.205.11.15.3) id AA21901
(4.1/SMI [email protected]); Fri 22
May 1998 19:29:05 -0400
Date: Fri 22 May 9819:29:05 -0400
From: Blaine Warner [email protected]
To: John Brown Jr. [email protected]
Subject: Phone bills
“You see?” Henry said. “The original transmission
shows it was sent from Blaine's computer after nine
o'clock at night,” Henry said. “You have to know an
awful lot to cover your tracks on a computer.”
“Now we've got the proof we need,” Nancy said.
“It's time to call my father and tell him that his new
associate has been up to no good.”
Nancy picked up the phone and dialed her home
number. While she waited for her father to pick up,
Henry and Bess read through more of the material in
Blaine's secret mislabeled file.
Mr. Drew answered. “Hello?”
“Hi, Dad,” Nancy said. “Bess and I are still in the
office.”
“I wondered where you were,” he said. “Ms. Hanson
told me you left before me. Hannah was starting to get
worried when you didn't come home. Did something
come up at the office?”
“Yes, Dad. Something serious. We just discovered
files in Blaine Warner's computer disks that strongly
indicate she sent privileged information from the old
criminal cases of those clients who recently settled
their cases.”
“What?” Mr. Drew said, shocked.
�
�There's a summary of notes from the old cases,
with either compromising or delicate information,”
Nancy went on. “And there's also a list of dollar
amounts and dates that seem to show she was paid for
getting this information.”
“I can't believe this happened in my office,” Mr.
Drew said. “How did you find out about it?”
“Henry was suspicious, too. That's why he made that
list I told you about. He helped us get into Blaine's
computer system, and then he went into the mail
server information, where we discovered Blaine had
sent E-mail to John Brown Junior at Williams and
Brown.”
“This is serious, Nan—”
Before her father could say anything more, the
phone went dead, the computer screen went black, and
the entire office was plunged into darkness.
15. An Inside Job
Bess screamed. Nancy and Henry shushed her.
“Be quiet, Bess,” Nancy said firmly. “Blaine must
have come back. I'll bet that was the noise I heard
before.”
“She must have overheard everything,” Henry
whispered. “We've got to try to stop her from getting
away.”
“I can find my way around here, even in the dark,”
Nancy continued in a whisper. “Follow me.”
They all held hands, and Nancy led them silently
around Blaine's desk and through the door. They
walked up the darkened hallway to the darkened
reception area.
Some light from the elevator area shone in through
the thick double glass doors. Bess whispered, “I'll wait
here and stand guard. You guys go ahead and get the
lights turned back on.”
“Okay, Bess,” Nancy said, still holding on to Henry.
“We'll be right back. Don't let Blaine get out.” Nancy
steered Henry carefully into the small utility closet off
the reception area, where the electrical panel was
located.
“I can't see a thing,” Henry said.
“Here,” Nancy said. “I keep a penlight on my
keychain.” She held the button at the tip of the
flashlight that looked like a ballpoint pen, and a faint
beam of light shone onto switches and wires in the
electrical panel.
“Someone's thrown off the main power switch,”
Henry said, looking closely. “I've just got to turn it back
on and—”
Before they could do anything, they heard a scuffle.
Bess screamed and cried, “She's out here!”
Quickly Henry and Nancy turned the main power
switch back on, and ran out into the reception area to
find Blaine Warner holding a silver award cup over
Bess's head, about to hit her!
“Stop!” Nancy called.
Blaine turned around, clearly startled. Bess tried to
jump away. Blaine grabbed her by the arm, and Bess
shrieked again.
“Let me go,” Bess cried, struggling with the tall,
angry woman.
“Let her go!” Nancy echoed her friend.
Blaine froze and eyed Nancy with hatred. “You!”
Blaine snarled. “I thought I'd scared you off at the
Cyber Space last night. I heard you at the restaurant
when you planned to go on-line with your little friend
here and look for help tracking E-mail.”
“You are SEEK!” Bess gasped. “And you're the one
who attacked Nancy last night.” She tried to pull away,
but Blaine's grip was too tight.
Blaine laughed. “Yeah, I sent you that note about
the rose. I thought that would grab you, Little Miss
Romance. And I set up the meeting when you'd have
to run off to your precious chat group, so Nancy would
be all alone.”
She turned to Nancy. “I thought I'd be able to get
you out of the way for good.”
“We found the floppy disk with the file you called
phone bills,' ” Nancy said.
“Your father's always bragging about what a super-
sleuth his daughter is,” Blaine went on. “I was worried
you might figure out my scheme. Henry here couldn't
find his brains without a map.”
Nancy heard a sharp intake of breath from Henry,
and then he said, “You fooled me with Ms. Hanson's
password, Blaine. But we found the original E-mail
information, and we know what you and John Brown
Junior have been doing.”
“Good for you,” Blaine snapped. “Now you've got to
catch me. I'm out of here, and you can't stop me.” She
shoved Bess away from her forcefully, and Bess fell
over the low coffee table. She scattered the magazines
to the floor and moaned.
“Bess!” Nancy cried. She ran over to her friend.
Henry followed close behind.
Blaine took advantage of the moment and headed
for the office door. With one hand, she pressed the
button for the automatic lock. With the other, she
threw the heavy cup behind her.
Bess and Nancy were protected behind the low
coffee table, but the heavy cup struck Henry in the leg,
and he stumbled, groaning in pain. Bess screamed
again.
“Henry, are you okay?” Bess asked.
“Never mind me, just stop her,” he said, holding his
leg. Nancy was sure he'd been injured pretty badly.
The cup itself was heavy, and it was mounted on a large
wooden base with sharp edges.
“All right, Henry. Call the police and an ambulance,
too. Come on, Bess,” Nancy said. “Can you walk?”
Bess nodded. Though still shaken up from her fall,
Bess joined her friend.
The heavy glass office doors had locked automati-
cally after Blaine's exit, and by the time the girls
buzzed themselves out, the elevator door had closed
behind Blaine, and she was gone.
“Oh, no!” Bess exclaimed.
“The stairs,” Nancy cried, and they headed for the
fire stairs.
“Four flights,” Bess groaned, panting a little after
her recent ordeal. They rushed down the stairs, only to
see Blaine exit the building and run into the street.
“She's going to get away,” Bess cried.
“No, she's not,” Nancy said. “Look.”
Right outside the office building was a police car,
lights flashing and sirens wailing. Mr. Drew was pulling
up behind it in his sedan.
“There she is, officers,” Nancy cried, pointing to
Blaine Warner.
Mr. Drew rushed over to Nancy and Bess. “Are you
two all right?” he asked. “When the phone was cut off
while you were telling me about the conspiracy
between Blaine and John Brown Junior, I thought the
worst. So I called the police and rushed over as quickly
as I could. I'm afraid I may have broken a few traffic
rules on the way.”
“I'm glad you got here so fast,” Nancy replied. She
gave her father a hug. “I'm fine.”
“Blaine knocked me down,” Bess said breathlessly.
“I'm okay, but I'm afraid Henry may be really hurt. She
threw that big award cup at us, and it ca
ught him in the
leg.”
“Where is he?” Nancy's father asked.
“We left him upstairs in the reception area,” Nancy
answered. “We didn't want to let Blaine get away, so
when we missed the elevator we ran down the stairs.”
“Four flights,” Bess said again with a groan. “With
his leg hurt, Henry really couldn't keep up,” Bess
added. “But he was going to call the police and an
ambulance.”
Just then Henry appeared in the doorway to the
office building, limping. “The police got here really
fast,” he said.
Nancy smiled at him. “My father called them when
our call got cut off.”
“Good thing,” Henry said. He flashed his famous
grin, a little wearily. “I called an ambulance, too. I
ought to get this dent in my leg checked out. It hurts a
lot. At the very least, it's going to be purple by
tomorrow. Did you catch Blaine?” he asked, wincing.
“Yes,” Bess said. “She's right over there with the
men in blue. Let me help you over to that bench, so
you can sit down.” Bess put her shoulder under
Henry's arm.
Nancy and Mr. Drew walked over as the police took
Blaine Warner into custody. “What's the charge, Mr.
Drew?” the officer asked.
“How about assault with a deadly award cup?”
Henry called out, his face pale.
“This is industrial espionage, Blaine,” Mr. Drew said
gravely. “You stole information from my firm. This is a
criminal matter, so you will be prosecuted as a thief.
And if you or John Brown Junior used privileged
information to threaten my clients, or coerce them into
taking settlements—in fact, if you had any contact with
them whatsoever—you will both be disbarred.”
“John will post bail for me before sunrise,” she
retorted. “And you'll have to prove the rest of it in
court.”
“We have all the proof we need,” Nancy said,
looking straight at Blaine.
“Oh, right. Miss Junior Detective here is going to
testify against me in court,” Blaine said sarcastically.
“Well, Williams and Brown will back me up all the way.
After all I've done for them, it's the least they can do
for me.”
“Remember, miss,” one of the police officers said.
“Anything you say can be used against you in a court of
law.”
“I know that, you fool,” Blaine snapped. “I'm a
lawyer.”
The Thirteenth Pearl Page 11
