None of the girls said a word as Nancy led them back to her suite; they were still too shaken to speak. But once they made it safely inside, Bess started to giggle. Soon Nancy and George were smiling, and then all three of them burst out laughing as the humor of the situation struck them.
Sprawled around the luxurious suite, they recalled the details of their near arrest and broke up completely.
“Hey! Let’s call room service and order a cake with a file baked inside. We may need it,” Bess said, cracking herself up.
“I guess we really did look guilty, didn’t we?” George commented.
“Honestly, we did,” Nancy said. “He was right to stop us—maybe his methods were a little too harsh, though.”
“Come on, Nan,” Bess said. “Let’s not get all serious.”
“Well, some things are serious, Bess,” Nancy said. “Whether you believe it or not.”
“You know what I think is serious?” Bess was no longer laughing. “The last time you came to New York and you almost got killed. Just be sure to be careful—okay?”
Silence fell for a long minute.
“Hey, lighten up, you two,” George finally commanded.
“I get worried about you, that’s all!” said Bess, her affection shining in her eyes.
“Me, too, Nan,” George nodded.
Nancy looked from one friend to the other. “Oh, come on, you two.” She playfully tossed a peach satin pillow at Bess. “I mean, this is really dangerous, right? Here I am at the Plaza—I’m having the time of my life with my best friends and stuffing my face with éclairs. Somehow it doesn’t seem too dangerous to me!” Nancy’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously now.
“All right, all right. Just take care of yourself, okay?” said Bess cheerfully.
“Listen,” Nancy suggested, “my dad is going to be back from the convention any minute, and we have a dinner date—want to come along? I know he’d love to see you.”
George slumped down into her chair. “Oh, I wish we could! But Bess and I have big plans, don’t we, Bess?”
Bess laughed. “We promised to visit my mom’s ex-roommate on the Upper West Side. I call her Aunt Julie. She’s cooking up a storm for us.”
Nancy nodded. “Hey! I have an idea—why don’t we get together after dinner? I know my dad is going to want to turn in early. The three of us could check out the nightlife at the Trump Tower.”
“Yeah! Maybe talk to some real-life New York City guys,” Bess exclaimed. “What do you say, George?”
George nodded. “See you about when, Nan?”
“Oh, I don’t know—eight-thirty, quarter to nine?”
“You’re on,” said George on the way out.
“See you later!” Bess called from the hall.
Alone, Nancy took out her new outfit and held it up in front of the mirror. It still looked great. She was admiring it when suddenly she heard a shout from behind the wall that adjoined the Amberly suite.
Angry voices followed. Sarah Amberly’s booming tones and a man’s—Jack Kale’s, maybe? But what were they saying? All Nancy could hear were muffled shouts. The argument must have been taking place in the main room of the Amberly suite, not in Sarah’s bedroom.
Nancy clenched her fists in frustration. She was worried about Sarah. If only she could hear what they were saying and knew that Sarah was all right.
Thinking quickly, she went to the window and threw it open. She leaned out as far as she safely could and twisted her body to the left, the better to hear the sound from around the side of the gabled window.
Sure enough, the voices were clearer now. The Amberlys’ windows were open, just as they had been whenever Nancy was in their suite.
“You’re a devil, that’s what you are!” Sarah shouted. “What did Joshua and I ever deny you, that you repay me this way?”
“Hold on, Aunt Sarah” was the angry reply. “How do you know it was me who stole it? Maybe it was your precious beau—oh, no, I forgot, he never does anything wrong, does he?”
“Look to your own faults, young man!” Sarah yelled back at him. “I’ve given you everything— everything!”
“Now, now, Aunt Sarah. I may triple your wealth one of these days. I only hope you’re not in the great hereafter when I hit it big at the gaming tables.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Nancy could tell from the shaking in her voice that Sarah Amberly was hurt to the quick.
“I should have taken a firmer stand with you a long time ago, young man, but you’ve had me wrapped around your little finger, haven’t you? Well, it’s not too late. I’ll fix you—I’ll cut you out of my will. Then you’ll have to learn to work for a living. I’ll teach you the value of a dollar yet!”
“You won’t disinherit me, Aunt Sarah—you know you won’t. Uncle Joshua made you promise on his deathbed, remember?”
Nancy leaned a little farther out the window to hear better. Sarah and Jack had turned toward the far wall and the sound wasn’t traveling as well.
“Devil! You devil! Your uncle is turning in his grave, I’m sure,” said Sarah Amberly. “And I will disinherit you, don’t think I won’t. If that ring isn’t back on this table by tomorrow, I’m calling my lawyer!”
“You’ll never do it, Aunt Sarah” was the young man’s reply. “Never.” Nancy drew her breath in sharply. She heard a door slam and then silence.
Whew! Nancy thought. She was glad now she had listened in, nosy as it might have seemed. Sarah Amberly was in real danger, she felt it in her bones. But what could she do about it? How could she help?
Preoccupied, Nancy started to draw her head back in. But as she did so, she banged her head—hard—against the bottom of the window.
She felt a throbbing, and heard a ringing noise. It lasted only a fraction of a second, but in that amount of time, she lost her balance and felt herself start to slip. Her arms flailed wildly, grasping at the empty air.
She couldn’t even scream. There was no time for that. Below her was the street, thirty stories down—and she was going over the ledge to land on it.
Chapter
Six
IN THE LAST split second left to her, with an extra ounce of strength from somewhere deep inside, Nancy threw her head up and twisted herself around, reaching back with her fingertips.
There! She grabbed the window and pushed herself inside, collapsing in a terrified heap on the floor. She’d been lucky this time, and she knew it. Mighty lucky. She lay there, breathing in deep drafts of air. I’m still alive! was all she could think.
But when the relief subsided, and she picked herself up off the carpet, she muttered, “You idiot!” Leaning so far out the window had been incredibly dumb.
Maybe she was being overzealous. After all, the only crime that had been committed was a theft, and Sarah Amberly had insisted on handling that herself. The loss of the jewel was hardly something to die for.
After walking to the mirror, Nancy smoothed her hair and looked down at her hands, which were raw and scratched from her close call at the window. Then she checked her watch. She was startled to realize it was almost time for dinner.
She went to the closet door and pulled the peach skirt from its hanger. Just then, her father popped his head inside. Carson’s face was tired and strained.
“Hi, Dad!” she called. “You look bushed.”
Carson nodded and sighed. “That’s one way to put it. Between the speeches and the heavy lunch I feel like I’m made of lead. How was your day, Nancy?”
“I got a new outfit today. In fact, I thought I’d wear it tonight for our big dinner—”
“Honey, about that dinner . . .”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, Nancy knew what was coming next.
“Nan, would you mind very much if we did it tomorrow instead? I was thinking maybe we could order from room service tonight—but only if that’s okay with you.”
Looking at her father’s weary face, Nancy couldn’t make him push himself any mo
re than he already had.
“Room service sounds like fun, actually,” she said, hanging up her new outfit again. At least they’d have the whole next day and Sunday. Now that her dad’s meetings were over, they could really spend some time together.
Nancy had to blink when she read the prices on the room service menu, but Carson insisted she order whatever she wanted. Half an hour later there was a knock on the door, and Maximilian appeared behind a rolling silver table.
What is it about him? Nancy wondered. The waiter cast a sickening smile in their direction.
“Lobster à la maison for two? Asparagus almondine in sherry sauce?” he asked.
“That’s us,” Carson said.
“And I have a bottle of sparkling water?”
“Yup,” said Carson. “That’s us, too.”
“How are you, miss?” Maximilian inquired as he rolled the cart in front of the sofa and began setting up for dinner.
“Fine, thank you,” Nancy answered politely. She couldn’t decide how she felt about this man.
Carson left the room to get tip money. Suddenly Maximilian leaned toward Nancy, speaking in hushed tones. “I probably shouldn’t mention it, miss, but if you have any jewelry, you might consider putting it in the hotel safe. There was a robbery on this floor today.”
“Oh?” Nancy asked innocently.
“There’s a young man next door who loves money more than life,” he continued. “But then, perhaps you already know about it—”
“Actually, Mrs. Amberly did mention it to me.” She wouldn’t give him more than that. Let him tell her what he knew. And Maximilian knew something. Nancy could just bet on it. Something vital.
“I understand you, er, fell under suspicion? Most regrettable. The young Ritter, he is bull-headed, yes?” Now the waiter gave her a leering smile.
Just then, Carson came back. “Here you go,” he said lightly, handing Maximilian the tip.
Nancy watched the waiter roll the cart from the room, the same smirk on his face. What was it that he knew?
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Oh, nothing, Dad.” Nancy sat at the small marble table and looked over at her father with a wan smile. There was no sense telling him all the things she was thinking—everything was still so jumbled.
“Your hands, Nancy! What happened to them?”
Nancy looked at the scrape marks, then quickly put her hands under the table. “Oh, nothing,” she murmured. “I was just closing the window and it got stuck.”
Ordinarily, Nancy would never fib to her father, but this time she was afraid to tell him the truth. If he knew how close she’d come to real harm, he’d be very upset.
“Oh—I forgot to tell you, Dad. George and Bess are in town! I’m meeting them at Trump Tower tonight!” Nancy picked up her fork.
Carson gave her an amused look. “George and Bess, eh? What do you know.” He looked at her fingertips again. “Want me to break up your lobster for you?” he asked with a little smile.
“Thanks, Dad. I guess you’d better.”
“The window got stuck, huh?”
• • •
A few hours later Nancy was sipping cappuccino with George and Bess at a café overlooking the Trump Tower atrium. Around them gleamed some of New York’s most chic stores.
“Isn’t this fantastic?” she asked. Bess and George agreed.
Nearby, waterfalls cascaded from a hidden source within the burnished marble walls of Trump Tower into glittering pools below. Somewhere, a flute and cello played something that sounded like Bach.
Nancy finshed a bite of anisette toast and looked over at her friends. “So how are you two holding up? Long day?”
“Aunt Julie’s pot roast did me in,” George admitted. “If only I hadn’t let her talk me into seconds . . .”
“Well then, what do you say we get together again after the matinee tomorrow? My dad and I are going to see Music! and then we’re having dinner someplace really special. Maybe you can come. Afterward, we could catch a cab to Greenwich Village and go to a jazz club or something—”
“Sounds good, Nan,” said Bess as they paid the check and headed down the escalator.
They were still discussing plans for the next day when Nancy spotted a familiar figure coming toward them on the up escalator. It was Pieter van Druten. He was holding an airline-ticket folder.
Nancy grabbed her friends and whispered, “Look, that’s the guy I told you about—Sarah Amberly’s boyfriend.”
“Kind of old,” said Bess nonchalantly.
Nancy turned to watch as van Druten stepped off the escalator and into an exclusive men’s store. He looked so self-satisfied, so casual, his lips permanently pursed in a nasty little smile.
“Listen, would you mind if we waited outside and followed him?” Nancy found herself saying. “I’m kind of interested—”
“Nancy Drew, you’re hopeless,” said George with a shake of her head. “Okay, let’s go.”
They trailed Pieter van Druten to the lobby of the Plaza, where he entered the dry-cleaning shop, which was open until midnight. The girls watched from across the hall as he dropped off a shirt he had been carrying inside his jacket. He soon emerged and walked on.
“Bess, George—you keep following van Druten. I’m going to see if I can get that shirt back.”
“Okay,” Bess said. “But this is absolutely it for tonight.” She and George headed in the same direction that van Druten had gone.
By the time Nancy had retrieved the shirt, Bess and George were waiting for her.
“Where’s van Druten?” Nancy asked.
“He’s having a late supper in one of the restaurants,” George replied. “We figured he’d be there awhile, so we decided to come back.”
“What did you want the shirt for, anyway?” Bess asked.
“Just a hunch,” Nancy said, stuffing it in her purse. “Thanks for all your help, guys.”
“Well, good night, Nancy. Talk to you tomorrow,” George said.
Nancy headed back to her suite. As soon as she stepped off the elevator she knew something was wrong—desperately wrong. Every fiber in her being tensed.
The Amberlys’ door was open—wide open. That’s odd, thought Nancy.
She peered inside. She saw no one, and was about to leave, when she heard a sound that made her blood run cold. It was a sort of throaty rattling. The source of the sound was definitely human, and whoever was making it was in deep trouble.
Running into Sarah’s bedroom, Nancy saw the older woman. Sarah had fallen off the bed and was grasping the empty air, her eyes wild with pain and terror. The bottle of pills was on the floor, and the pills themselves scattered around. The water glass lay shattered nearby, as did a teacup and saucer.
“Sarah! Are you all right?” Nancy asked. “What’s happened?” She took the woman in her arms and was surprised to feel how cold she was, as if she’d been bathing in ice water.
“Th—Kkk—Aaa—”
Nancy couldn’t make out what Sarah was saying, but she knew it must be terribly important. The woman seemed to be imploring her to listen. Nancy leaned in closer, her ear practically on her lips.
“Th—Dev—ev—vil—” Sarah was saying now. “Th—th—fff—foo—ool—”
Sarah seemed to grow rigid in Nancy’s arms. “And—and—D-D—eee—eath-th,” she gasped. Again came the hideous rattling, and then she went limp.
“No! No!” shouted Nancy. “I won’t let you die!” Nancy seized the older woman and pounded on her chest rhythmically, desperately trying to get her breathing again.
But it was too late. Sarah Amberly was already dead.
Chapter
Seven
I CAN’T BELIEVE it. She just didn’t respond. Nothing I tried was any use.” Nancy looked up at her father, her large blue eyes filled with agony and self-doubt. They were standing with the manager of the hotel in the main room of the Amberly suite, waiting for the hotel doctor to arrive. “For all the good I did,
I might as well not have even been here.”
“Nancy, Nancy—you did everything you could. No one can work miracles.” Carson Drew patted his daughter’s shoulder tenderly and drew her toward him.
“But I let her down, Dad. I did. I just . . . just—oh, I felt so helpless.”
“You did everything you possibly could.”
Just then a white-haired man in a dark suit entered the suite. From the black leather bag he was carrying, Nancy guessed he must be the doctor.
“Where’s Mrs. Amberly?” he asked.
“In there.” The manager pointed to Sarah’s bedroom. He and the doctor went in, Carson and Nancy following behind.
Seeing Sarah so still on the floor, her face twisted into an expression of pained surprise, made Nancy wince. Why hadn’t she found a way to save her?
“Hmmm . . .” the doctor murmured, finishing his examination. Then, turning to Nancy, he asked, “You’re the young lady who reported this?”
“Yes.”
“And when was it exactly?”
“No more than ten minutes ago. I heard a strange sound from the hall. It sounded like she was choking. And when I got here, she was having difficulty breathing. I tried CPR, but she just—” Nancy shivered as she remembered the whole horrible episode.
“No, no,” the doctor murmured, with a gentle shake of his head. “You musn’t blame yourself. CPR doesn’t always work. In fact, I believe Mrs. Amberly may have died from an overdose of her heart medicine.”
With a sigh, he turned back to the body. “I’m afraid this was an act of suicide, and there’s nothing you or I or anyone could have done to prevent it. Mrs. Amberly was an unhappy woman, and that coupled with her failing health . . . Well, who knows? Sad, very sad.” With that, he gently closed Sarah Amberly’s pale eyes and drew the sheet over her face.
“Suicide? But she was fighting for her life, doctor. I was here—I saw her!” said Nancy incredulously.
The doctor raised his eyebrows and took Nancy in with a look of gentle wisdom. “My dear, I attended both Mrs. Amberly and her sister many times during their visits here at the Plaza. I assure you, she was fully aware of the consequences of overmedication. Fully aware.”
025 Rich and Dangerous Page 4
