151 The Chocolate-Covered Contest

by Carolyn Keene

  was surprised when the operator connected her

  directly to the reporter, Deborah Hui.

  “Hi,” Nancy began. “My name is Nancy Drew,

  and—”

  “And you're involved in the Royal Chocolates

  instant-win scandal,” Deborah said. “I'm doing a

  follow-up story on the evening news tonight. Do you

  have some information for me?”

  “Not exactly,” Nancy said. “In fact, we were hoping

  to keep this out of the media until the identity of the

  winner was settled.”

  “Sorry, but the news is already out there. We have to

  do our job.” She paused. “Wait a minute. You're the

  one who's some kind of detective, right? Let me guess.

  You want to know my source on the story.”

  “I was hoping you might be able to help me, yes,”

  Nancy said.

  “I'm sure you realize it would be unethical for me to

  reveal that information,” Deborah replied.

  “How ethical is it to air a story without trying to

  speak with all the people involved? You didn't try to

  contact my friend Bess Marvin, for example. Whoever

  your source was—”

  “You're not going to find out who she was,” Deborah

  interrupted, “so you might as well stop trying.”

  She, Nancy thought. That was something. If

  Deborah's source was female, that would eliminate

  John Tumey.

  “Thanks for your time,” Nancy said. She hung up

  before Deborah could make another pitch for Nancy to

  talk to her on the evening news.

  So John Tumey wasn't the person who talked to

  Deborah, Nancy realized. That didn't mean he wasn't

  involved. Maybe he was working with Diana or Andrea.

  Maybe one of them had given Deborah the story.

  Nancy thought about Diana's strange behavior since

  they had arrived. All along, they had assumed Diana

  didn't know that Bess had come forward with another

  winning wrapper because Joyce hadn't told her. But

  what if someone else had told Diana about Bess's

  wrapper? Nancy wondered. If Diana was working with

  the corporate spy and the spy knew about the wrapper,

  the spy could have told her. That would explain why

  Diana had been eavesdropping on them and acting

  hostile. She was probably desperate to find out

  whether her chances of winning the grand prize were

  ruined.

  Bess snapped her fingers in front of Nancy's face.

  “Earth to Nan.”

  “Sorry,” Nancy said. “I was just thinking.”

  “Are you sure you're okay here by yourself?” Bess

  asked. “I could stay if you want me to.”

  “That's sweet, Bess, but I'll be fine. And Andrea

  definitely needs you,” Nancy said.

  George grunted as she heaved Bess's suitcase onto

  the bed. “You need us, too, to help you cart this stuff

  out of here. Maybe one of the Sleuths can give you a

  science tip to make these bags easier to carry. Like a

  lever. Or gee—how about packing lighter?”

  Nancy held the door open while Bess and George

  dragged their bags into the hall. “Make sure you call

  me tonight, so I know you got home safely,” she said.

  Their good bye was cut short by the ringing phone.

  “Grand Central Station,” Nancy answered.

  “Nancy?” Joyce's voice sounded uncertain.

  “Hi, Joyce. I'm sorry to answer that way. It's just that

  it's been hectic around here. What can I do for you?”

  “I don't suppose you happened to see the news this

  morning,” Joyce said.

  “In fact, I did.” Nancy sat on the bed, preparing

  herself for a long conversation. “Do you have any idea

  where the press heard about the contest problems?”

  “None.” Joyce sighed. “But Mr. Castle went through

  the roof when he saw the story.”

  “I bet,” Nancy said. “I wish I could say I had some

  leads for you, but I don't. I did stumble across

  something else today.”

  Nancy went on to explain about Andrea's release

  from the hospital and her story that Joyce had sent her

  the instant-win wrapper after Andrea's futile attempts

  to contact Robert Castle.

  “I don't want to sound as though I'm questioning

  Andrea's account of what happened,” Nancy said. “But

  I was hoping you could just verify for me that you did

  mail Andrea those chocolates.”

  “Gosh.” Joyce sounded strained. “You can't believe

  how many promotional materials I send out every day.

  It's quite possible Andrea was on my list. I wish I could

  say for sure, but there's no way I can remember.”

  “You don't have any records? Nothing?”

  “Sorry,” Joyce said. “If we kept files on freebies, we

  wouldn't have room for anything else.”

  Nancy drummed her fingers on the nightstand. She

  had hoped Joyce would be able to give her an easy

  answer. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Andrea didn't

  mention to you that she's related to Robert Castle?”

  “Related to . . . ?” Joyce trailed off. “Her last name is

  Cassella. Of course. I can't believe I didn't realize that

  myself.”

  Joyce's reaction surprised Nancy. She had been

  under the impression from Andrea that Joyce was

  aware of their relationship.

  “No wonder Mr. Castle was so upset after he met

  with you,” Joyce went on. “He's incredibly suspicious of

  his estranged family members. He always thinks

  they're dreaming up new schemes to get to his money.

  Not that I think that's what Andrea's doing,” Joyce

  added hastily.

  “You've been very understanding about all this,”

  Nancy said.

  “The Golden Rule,” Joyce said. “Just because my

  bosses walk all over me doesn't mean I like to walk all

  over other people.”

  “Joyce, do any of your bosses besides Mr. Tumey

  know that I'm working with you on this investigation?”

  Nancy asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Joyce said. “Unless—”

  “Unless?”

  “I can't vouch for what Mr. Tumey does, of course.

  If he told someone, I wouldn't know about it. He's not

  fond of filling me in on lots of things.”

  She doesn't trust John Tumey, Nancy thought to

  herself. Was Joyce trying to find a tactful way of telling

  Nancy she thought Mr. Tumey had been giving out

  information too freely?

  “You didn't tell Mr. Tumey I'd be going through the

  files tonight,” Nancy said.

  “Are you kidding?” Joyce laughed nervously. “He'd

  have me fired. But he'll never know. It turns out he's

  off-site all afternoon at a meeting with a client. He

  probably won't even come back for the dinner. It starts

  at five-thirty, by the way. Why don't you come over at

  six. I'll buzz you up, then I'll slip out to go to the

  dinner. Does that work for you?”

  “It sounds great,” Nancy said. She thanked Joyce for

  her help.

  Now, she wondered, what was she going to do until

  six o'c
lock?

  It was Wednesday, she thought. If she went back to

  the computer lab, Patsy should be there. Maybe Patsy

  would remember the person who was searching online

  for information about the Sleuths.

  The lab was busy. Nancy had to wait almost half an

  hour before Patsy was available to speak with her. In

  the meantime, she heard Patsy explain to two frantic

  students how to retrieve their lost data.

  Nancy thought Patsy seemed both competent and

  friendly. But Patsy's smile faded when she heard

  Nancy's question.

  “Users at this terminal two days ago? Um . . . isn't

  there anything else I could help you with? A computer

  question, maybe?”

  “I know it's a strange request,” Nancy said. “And a

  long shot. I just hoped that maybe the person asked

  you a question or made an impression somehow.”

  “Wait a second! I do remember something,” Patsy

  said suddenly. “This lady definitely stood out. She was

  sitting at this terminal. It was toward the end of the

  day. And I had to tell her, like, three times to quit

  eating chocolate in the lab.”

  Nancy asked Patsy to describe the woman. Not only

  did the description fit Diana, but Patsy also mentioned

  the woman's silent husband, who sat in a chair beside

  her the whole time.

  Nancy thanked Patsy. “I'll let you get back to work,”

  she said as a user waved his hand frantically for Patsy's

  help.

  Nancy decided to take a walk through the English

  garden to clear her head.

  So it seemed Diana was the woman who had been

  doing research on Nancy and the Sleuths. Now what?

  If Diana really was the woman in the computer lab,

  why was she searching for information? How did she

  even know their names? Somebody must have told her,

  Nancy realized. But who? The corporate spy? Or John

  Tumey? Was John Tumey the corporate spy?

  After wandering around the park, Nancy took the

  elevator to the top of the Royal Observatory. From

  there she had a breathtaking view of the green fields

  surrounding the park and the shimmering pool at

  Water Wonderland.

  It was surprising, she thought, to see how many

  people were moving around on the grounds. Workers

  walked in and out of the chocolate factory. Waves of

  newcomers continued to pour in through the main

  gate.

  Nancy's gaze stopped at the administration building,

  which seemed an oasis of calm in the middle of chaos.

  There was a courtyard behind the offices, and there a

  man and woman stood alone, talking. Nancy squinted

  at the woman's yellow-flowered hat, and the man's

  familiar bald head. “John Tumey and Diana!” she

  whispered.

  Nancy remembered Joyce telling her that Mr.

  Tumey was away this afternoon to meet with a client.

  So why was he here, and with Diana? What was going

  on?

  13. Thrown for a Loop

  Had Mr. Tumey lied to Joyce about his plans this

  afternoon? Nancy asked herself. He said he was

  meeting with a client. Surely Diana wasn't a client.

  Nancy realized that there could be a perfectly good

  reason for Mr. Tumey to meet with Diana. They could

  be discussing the contest. But why would Joyce think

  Mr. Tumey was somewhere else? And why were they

  meeting in an isolated area behind the building instead

  of in Mr. Tumey's office?

  As Nancy expected, by the time she got back to the

  ground and made her way to the administration

  building, Diana and John Tumey had both

  disappeared. There was no chance of eavesdropping on

  their conversation.

  Nancy checked her watch. In another couple of

  hours she could meet Joyce. She couldn't wait to

  search John Tumey's office and maybe find some

  answers.

  After a leisurely early dinner, Nancy returned to the

  administration building and dialed the number for

  Joyce's office. A moment later she was buzzed inside.

  Joyce seemed harried when Nancy arrived on the

  fifth floor. “I've got to get to this dinner pronto,” she

  explained to Nancy. “Mr. Castle was very anxious that I

  be there.” She hurriedly demonstrated where Nancy

  might find various files in the suite of offices.

  “Feel free to go through my office. Mr. Tumey's,

  too. I'm sorry, but I wasn't able to get a key to Mr.

  Castle's.”

  “That's okay. I think the chance that he's the

  corporate spy is pretty close to zero.”

  “I hate to ask you this, but I'll also need you to turn

  off the lights.” Joyce reached out and flipped the

  switch. “We used to have round-the-clock security until

  our budget cutbacks. Now, with the new alarm system,

  the guards go off-duty at eleven. In the meantime, I

  don't want them to suspect someone's snooping up

  here.” Joyce handed her a huge flashlight.

  “Thanks,” Nancy said. “This'll work a lot better than

  my penlight.”

  “Okay,” Joyce said. “I'll be back in a couple of hours.

  Good luck.” She hurried to the elevator, leaving Nancy

  to decide which of the dozens of file drawers to open

  first.

  Nancy turned toward Mr. Tumey's office. She

  should probably start there, she decided. Her heart

  sank when she saw the long row of file cabinets lining

  the area behind his desk and behind the door, not to

  mention the stacks of folders on top of his credenza.

  Mr. Tumey's computer screen glowed invitingly in

  the darkness. If I had classified information, Nancy

  thought, I'd keep it hidden on a hard drive rather than

  printed out and in a file.

  She sat down at Mr. Tumey's computer, pleased that

  she didn't need a password to access his files. On the

  desktop, she saw an icon for an electronic address

  book. This would be a good place to start looking for

  information, Nancy decided.

  With little trouble, Nancy found listings for both

  Diana and Pleasant Candies. This was not unexpected.

  In fact, Mr. Tumey probably had good reason to

  contact both Diana and Pleasant Candies.

  Nancy decided it might be worthwhile to dial the

  Pleasant number to see who answered.

  The phone was answered on the first ring by a

  woman with a low, soothing voice. “Maggie

  Fitzwilliam.”

  Nancy was so astonished that she nearly dropped the

  phone. Maggie Fitzwilliam was the president and CEO

  of Pleasant Candies!

  Nancy hung up hastily. She wondered whether

  Maggie Fitzwilliam had caller ID and could trace her

  call. Had she just tipped off Pleasant that she was

  checking up on them? she worried.

  There was no way, Nancy thought, that Mr. Tumey

  would be doing normal Royal Chocolates business with

  Maggie Fitzwilliam on her personal phone line. Nancy

  had to assume it was her personal line, since she had

  answered it after hours. />
  John Tumey must be the corporate spy, Nancy

  decided. As she clicked the mouse to close the entry in

  his address book, she noticed something startling. This

  entry had been added to John's file today. On a hunch,

  she checked Diana's address—it was also dated today.

  If John were the spy, Nancy knew he would have

  been using these numbers for months. That didn't

  make sense at all. These numbers had just been added

  to the address book today. Had Mr. Tumey really been

  using them? Or was someone just trying to make it

  seem that he had been? Did someone want to make

  him appear guilty when Nancy accessed his computer?

  No one knew Nancy was going to his office but

  Joyce. Was Joyce trying to set John up? Nancy asked

  herself. Why would she do that unless she was the

  corporate spy?

  Nancy remembered Joyce saying she'd rather work

  with Nancy than against her. Maybe she'd asked for

  Nancy's help because of Nancy's determination to

  investigate. Maybe she had thought she could control

  the direction of Nancy's investigation and steer the

  blame away from herself—and onto John Tumey.

  Nancy hurried into Joyce's office, knowing that

  Joyce would expect her to search there. Joyce would

  have been careful to get rid of any evidence that might

  make her look guilty.

  Nancy imagined Joyce making preparations for

  Nancy to snoop in her office. Any computer files that

  might provide useful information would have been

  deleted. Any incriminating papers would have been

  taken home or shredded.

  Nancy had a sudden memory of the information she

  had heard Patsy giving the students in the computer

  lab about retrieving lost files. When files were deleted

  from the hard drive of the computer, they weren't

  actually gone. They were sent temporarily to a place

  called the Recycle Bin. After a few days the computer

  would automatically purge the information in the

  Recycle Bin. But until then, those files should still be

  there—and easily accessible.

  Nancy found the Recycle Bin icon and double

  clicked on it.

  Sure enough, she found a list of files Joyce had

  deleted that morning.

  Nancy opened the first file. It was a letter addressed

  to Andrea, care of the Science Sleuths.

  Nancy could hardly believe her good fortune. This

  was obviously information Joyce thought was hidden

  forever from prying eyes.