“See, Hannah?” Emily laughed. “Do I know how to recruit help in the kitchen?”
As George set the table, Nancy and Hannah made a fruit salad and omelets, and Emily kneaded the dough for sourdough biscuits.
After she had put the biscuits in the oven, Hannah took charge. “Everyone to the table now,” she urged. “Sit down and start. I’ll bring the biscuits when they’re just right.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Emily agreed. She and the girls tackled the meal hungrily, and Hannah joined them soon with the biscuits.
Nancy asked Emily about her contacts in the underworld. “Kesack and Louie seem to respect you, Emily.”
“Well, I think, in their own way, they see themselves as professionals, and they see me as a professional. And, although I’ve certainly never done business with Kesack, I think he knows I only tell the truth with my camera, and that can come in handy sometimes.” Emily paused for a sip of coffee.
“What about Louie?” Nancy asked, reaching for a biscuit. “Did he help us somehow last night?”
Emily smiled. “Louie did help us. You’re right, Nancy. He called earlier this morning to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!” Tripod’s farewell made everyone laugh. The bird shuffled on his perch and preened his feathers contentedly.
“Why goodbye?” asked George, settling back in her chair with her cocoa.
“Was it Louie who called and told me to go to the bridge last night?” Nancy asked.
“Wait, I can’t answer everything at once!” Emily laughed. “One thing at a time. Louie is an informant I use sometimes.”
Nancy nodded.
“He would periodically tell me of new developments he thought I’d be interested in. And he kept an eye out for me. He knew that sometimes the information he gave me put me in dangerous places with dangerous people.”
“That’s right,” Nancy agreed. “He was trying to warn you before you were kidnapped.” She grinned ruefully. “Only I think George and I scared him away the first night we were here, when we went for our walk.”
“But Louie wasn’t the one who called you about the bridge, Nancy,” Emily went on. “He told me on the phone this morning that he would have tried to stop you from going. However, it was Louie who tipped off the police to look for you in the tunnels last night.”
“I wonder how he knew?” Hannah asked, puzzled.
“Louie has his ways.” Emily poured more coffee for Hannah. “He said he’s ‘going on vacation’ for a while. When I asked him where, he’d only say that it was far away.”
“I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want those mobsters after me. Once was enough!” George took the last bite of a sourdough biscuit.
Nancy was still curious about being lured to the bridge. “Emily, if Louie didn’t tell me to go to the bridge, then who did?”
“The men who tried to throw you off the bridge. They thought that you might have been in touch with Croft, and since they hadn’t found him, they were afraid he might have told you too much.”
The phone rang, and Emily answered it. Nancy and the others watched, half afraid there would be a new threat. But Emily smiled as she listened to the caller, and they relaxed. After a brief conversation, she hung up the phone and returned to her guests.
“Good news. Faith Arnold is much better now. It looks like she’ll recover from her injuries.”
Nancy and George exchanged relieved glances. Although they had distrusted the gallery owner at first, she had honestly seemed concerned about Emily.
“The gallery will be closed for a few weeks, until Faith is on her feet again,” Emily went on, “but she’s telling her visitors that she wants to extend the run of my exhibit.”
“That is good news.” Hannah smiled warmly. “You certainly deserve the attention.”
“By the way, look what I found when I went downstairs to get the newspaper this morning,” Emily said. She held out a large envelope, then opened it to reveal several photographs.
“The stolen pictures!” Nancy exclaimed. She recognized the prints that had hung on Emily’s living-room wall, but not the others.
“These are the ones that were stolen from the gallery,” Emily said, handing some pictures to Nancy. Kesack was in several of them, often just a figure in a shadow, but there nonetheless. The prints had been removed from their frames but had been handled carefully and were not any the worse for having been stolen.
“There was a little note from Harold Kesack, too. I guess he found a way to get someone to return these.” Emily smiled.
“Will you keep working on ‘Children of Change’?” Hannah asked worriedly.
“I certainly will!”
Nancy smiled as she saw the “old” Emily Foxworth again, full of life and energy.
Their conversation was interrupted by a light knock at the door. “It’s Don Chin, Emily,” a voice called softly. “Are you up yet?”
Because they were still comfortably gathered at the dining table, Emily pulled up a chair and offered the detective a cup of coffee, which he accepted readily.
“That is, I’ll have some coffee if Emily is going to offer me one of her biscuits to go with it!” Everyone laughed as the lieutenant settled in his chair.
“Don, after all the work you’ve done for me the past few days, you can have a whole batch of biscuits if you want!”
“Don’t give me too much credit, Emily. I mean, sure, I worked hard, but I had a little help.” He nodded to Nancy and George. “Anytime you two want to give me a hand with a case, you’re welcome in San Francisco!”
“I’m glad George and I spotted Peter Stine going into that warehouse last night,” Nancy said.
“Stine!” exclaimed Hannah angrily. “I think it was awfully unfair of him to take advantage of Emily’s kidnapping so he could get a good story.”
“I suppose he’s going to say he scooped it,” George added, “when Emily didn’t even have a chance!”
“Well, I’m not so sure Stine has any edge over Emily.” The lieutenant grinned and winked at Hannah as he reached for a second biscuit. “You see, the two stars of the story are Emily Foxworth and Harold Kesack.”
Nancy watched Lieutenant Chin with interest. It was clear that he knew something that Emily and the others did not. And he was enjoying keeping them in suspense.
“What do you mean, Lieutenant?” Hannah asked.
Nancy took a guess. “Maybe he’s trying to say that Stine will only get half the story.”
“Almost right, Nancy. Stine does know better than to approach Emily for an interview, after the way he profited by her kidnapping.”
“But you’re thinking of something more, aren’t you?” George was beginning to enjoy the lieutenant’s guessing game.
“Oh, yes—I nearly forgot.” With a wicked grin, he turned to Emily. “You’re wanted down at the station as soon as possible.”
“What?” Emily’s surprise was reflected in the faces of her guests. This wasn’t the pleasant mystery they had thought the detective was about to reveal.
“Well, it seems that our star criminal, Harold Kesack, is not only turning state’s witness . . .” he began.
“Yes? Come on, Don!” urged Emily.
“He’s also becoming quite selective about whom he’s willing to speak with.”
“What does that mean?” Hannah asked.
“It means, my friends, that Kesack is refusing to grant interviews. He’ll have nothing to do with the press.”
“Oh.” Emily’s disappointment was clear.
“He has particularly asked that a photojournalist named Peter Stine be barred from taking his picture or, for that matter, from being present at any interviews or questioning sessions.”
“Good!” cried George and Hannah together.
“However?” Nancy prompted him, sensing that the officer still had news to reveal.
“However, Kesack has made one request.”
“Which is?”
“Which is that he be
allowed an exclusive set of interviews with one journalist—Emily Foxworth. Kesack will speak to no one else.”
There was a moment of silence before Emily reacted to the news, and her friends broke into excited cheers.
“Well,” said Emily, after draining her coffee cup, “if you’ll excuse me, I think I’d better put some film in my cameras and head for the police station!” She stood up and walked toward the darkroom.
“By the way, Nancy,” the lieutenant continued, “don’t give Stine too much credit for being crafty. He wouldn’t have found the tunnels if he hadn’t seen Blane going down there a few days ago. He recognized Arnie Blane from one of Emily’s photos and followed him.”
“So he knew about Kesack?” Nancy asked.
“Yes. It appears he knew for several days before everything began happening.”
“Shouldn’t he have tipped the police off?” Nancy wanted to know.
“As a matter of fact, he should have,” agreed Lieutenant Chin, “and that’s been brought to his attention. He received a severe reprimand from the police department and from his boss at the newspaper, and he’s likely to get a stiff fine if the D.A. decides to prosecute. His actions during this case have been highly unprofessional.”
“I’ll say,” George agreed.
“We’ve impounded the warehouse and the computer parts in it,” the lieutenant went on. “It seems Croft was smuggling more than just Harold Kesack in and out of the country. He won’t have any profit this time. We’re confiscating everything until the investigation is complete.”
“Well, all’s well that ends well, right?” Hannah set down her coffee cup and surveyed the remains of their leisurely breakfast. She smiled at Nancy and George, then at Don Chin.
“What will you be doing for the rest of your holiday?” the lieutenant asked them.
Emily called to them from the darkroom. “I promised not to get all caught up in my work while you were here. I think I failed!”
“Miserably.” Hannah tried to sound grumpy and disappointed but wasn’t convincing.
“Well, I promise you, I’ll wrap up my interview with Kesack in plenty of time to meet you tonight at any restaurant you want.”
“It’s a deal!” Hannah exclaimed.
Nancy, George, and Hannah all began talking at once about where they wanted to go.
“Hey, today is four-twelve,” George announced.
“Oh, no, not another number mystery,” Nancy groaned.
“No. It means we’ve still got three days of vacation left! I vote we make the most of it.”
Emily emerged from the darkroom, carrying a bulging bag of camera gear. “Well, then, what would you like to see?” she asked.
Hannah wrinkled her forehead as she cleared off the table. “In all the excitement, I haven’t had time to think about it.”
Nancy looked out the window at the sparkling bay. It was a brilliant, clear day. Suddenly, she giggled.
“What do you want to see, Nancy?” Emily asked.
Nancy looked mischievously around the table at her friends. “I was thinking another boat ride might be fun.”
“A boat ride?” Hannah asked, confused.
“Yes.” Nancy stood up and pointed out the window. “What about a trip to that little island in the bay?” she suggested.
Hannah stood up, too. “What little island?” she asked.
Nancy looked at her and giggled again.
“Alcatraz Island, Hannah, where all the bad guys used to live.”
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A MINSTREL PAPERBACK ORIGINAL
A Minstrel Book published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 1988 by Simon & Schuster Inc.
Produced by Mega-Books of New York, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN: 0-671-64962-0
ISBN-13: 978-1-4424-9887-7 (eBook)
First Minstrel Books printing March 1988
NANCY DREW, NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES, A MINSTREL BOOK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.
Cover art by Bob Berran
The Clue in the Camera Page 10
