Famous Mistakes

by Carolyn Keene

  “He wasn’t pushing any boundary,” Bess said. “He was just being a bully.”

  “Exactly,” my dad said. “When you tell a joke that hits at someone, you want to punch up. You want the punch line to land against someone more powerful than you. If you call out or make fun of someone with less power than you, you’re just being mean. You’re not making a point.” We were all quiet for a moment before my dad continued. “I don’t think Brady is a bad person. I think he’s sensitive and he got upset at the heckler and he lashed out. Then it all spiraled out of control.”

  “Okay, even if he did make a mistake, that doesn’t mean people should destroy his room or call for violence against him on Twitter,” George argued.

  “No, of course not,” my dad said. “People have every right to protest his show and tell him why they’re upset, but they definitely crossed a line.”

  “Plus, it’s just not productive,” I said. “Brady is so upset about what’s happening to him, he’s not listening to hear that they might have a point.”

  “I wish people could just talk calmly to each other,” Bess said. “So many misunderstandings could be avoided.”

  “But then there would be way fewer mysteries to solve!” I joked. I’ve had a lot of cases where the motive came down to wanting revenge for a perceived slight.

  “Hey, was Joe cackling with glee at Brady’s misfortune?” my dad asked.

  “No. Why would he? I thought they were friends,” I answered.

  My dad started laughing, and pretty soon he was laughing so hard he was coughing. Hannah came over with a glass of water for him.

  “You need to take care of yourself,” she reprimanded him.

  “I’m not sick,” my dad protested. “It’s just allergies.”

  Hannah shook her head.

  “No, they are not friends at all,” my dad said, getting back to his story. “They’ve been feuding since our days in the fraternity. I was shocked when I saw that Brady was going to perform at the Arts Complex.”

  My dad turned to Ned. “Didn’t I tell you all this when I connected you to Brady?”

  Ned blushed. “You were in the middle of the McKnight trial. You kind of just grunted and handed me a slip of paper with Brady’s e-mail on it. I didn’t want to bother you by asking any questions.”

  “Huh,” my dad said. “That was a beast of a trial.”

  “So, what happened between them?” I asked.

  “Every year our fraternity hosted an open mic, and we’d invite all the alumni. It was one of our biggest events of the year. We all took it really seriously. I did my Elvis impression, of course.”

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. My dad was very proud of his impression of Elvis Presley. He went all in, too. He lowered his voice, shook his hips, and lifted just one side of his lip. It was very goofy. I just hoped he wouldn’t do it now. It was one thing for my dad to put on that performance in front of Hannah and me. It was a whole other thing for him to do it for my friends, not to mention my boyfriend.

  My dad liked to embarrass me, but he also knew I was on a case and that we didn’t have time to waste.

  “Both Brady and Joe did stand-up comedy sets their junior year, but about seventy-five percent of their jokes were the same. They were roommates, and Joe accused Brady of stealing his jokes. Brady went before Joe, so Joe’s set completely bombed, since the jokes were similar. If I recall correctly, he even got booed. He was furious. Brady claimed it was coincidental.”

  Hannah put a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen table, and Ned lit up. Hannah’s cookies were his favorite—a fact he never told his grandmother.

  “I have an extra bag for you to take back with you to the dorms,” Hannah told him. Ned got up and engulfed her in a hug. It was comical how much taller he was than her.

  “You’re the best,” he told Hannah.

  “Who did you believe?” I asked as Ned sat back down. I was anxious to get back to the story.

  “I was never sure. It was possible that it was a coincidence. Most of the jokes were about life in the fraternity and on campus, which were experiences they both had. At the same time, they were very similar, and we all knew Brady was extremely competitive and would do anything to win. Before the open mic incident, he almost got kicked out of our fraternity when he cheated during a track-and-field competition we had among all the frats on campus. His event was the half mile, and he got caught taking a shortcut.”

  “What happened after the open mic?” Ned asked.

  “Well, it turned out that Jack Murray, who was an alumnus and a big talent agent, was in the audience that night. He thought that Brady had big potential and signed him to his agency, so Brady’s career basically started that night. Joe was furious. He believed that Jack might have signed him if he’d performed before Brady.”

  My dad paused to take a bite of a cookie.

  “I wasn’t so sure,” he continued. “Even though the jokes were similar, Brady’s delivery was indisputably better than Joe’s. His timing was impeccable. He knew exactly when to pause, what word to emphasize to get the biggest laugh. He was just a natural in a way I don’t think Joe was. When Joe was up there, you could see the gears turning in his head as he thought about how to make the joke as funny as possible. Joe’s a very smart guy, but he was awkward onstage. Joe was so mad, he moved out of their room and slept on the couch in the living room. Brady ended up dropping out a few weeks later to pursue being a comic full-time.” He stopped and looked each one of us in the eyes. “Something none of you kids will ever, ever do. When you get to college, you will stay there and you will graduate.”

  We all nodded and promised that we would stay in school. Of course, none of us were considering dropping out of school, but if it made my dad happier to hear us say it out loud, then we would.

  “I didn’t think Joe and Brady had spoken to each other since Brady left college, which was close to twenty years ago now. I stayed in touch with both of them. Since I didn’t know what happened, I didn’t want to take sides, and they’re both nice guys in their own ways.” He took another bite of his cookie and shrugged. “But, you know, Joe’s done very well in his career, and it was a better fit for him anyway.”

  I turned and exchanged a look with my friends. Maybe Joe was a suspect.

  My dad put his glass of water down with a thunk. “Nancy, no,” he said, immediately knowing what I was thinking. “This was a long time ago, when we were practically kids. When I asked if Joe was happy to see Brady’s misfortune, I didn’t mean to imply that he was involved personally. Just that he might think karma had a long memory.”

  “Okay, Dad. I get it,” I said.

  My dad nodded and checked his watch. “Oh, good grief,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to work. I have a brief due to a judge in three hours.” He got up and kissed me on top of my head. “Good luck with the case.” He waved to my friends before taking another cookie and heading down the hall to his home office. “Good to see you all. I’ll see you at the show tonight.”

  He turned to me one last time. “I’m serious. Joe’s not a suspect.”

  I watched him walk down the hall and then turned back to my friends.

  “Obviously he is a suspect,” I said.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Insecure Security

  “I MEAN, RIPPING UP HIS notebook with all his jokes would definitely be good revenge for Brady stealing his jokes,” Ned said.

  “Yeah, and if you think about it, Joe is the one who determines whether I solve the case to his satisfaction,” I said. “I could bring him a suspect and he could say I don’t have enough evidence, so he would still add security or even cancel the show if he thought it was too big a risk.”

  “It’s a really long time to wait to get that revenge,” Bess pointed out. “Do you think he still cares?”

  “That’s true,” I agreed. “It does seem a little odd for someone Joe’s age to care this much about a college fight.”

  “We don’t know
how much Joe really wanted to be a stand-up comedian,” George said. “Maybe, even though he’s been successful, he’s felt like a failure because he didn’t accomplish his real dream.”

  “Yeah, but Nancy, we saw Joe eating with Brady in the hotel restaurant,” Ned said. “How could he have trashed Brady’s room?”

  I felt like my head was swimming. I sighed and checked my watch. I had been investigating the case for two hours and had only two and a half hours left before the cutoff Joe had given me. I didn’t know the best way forward. Tami and Erica seemed like viable suspects, but so did Joe.

  “We need more information,” I announced. “We rushed into thinking that this was about Brady’s mugging jokes. We didn’t think about the possibility that there was another motive. We need to take a step back and assess what we know about Brady.” I turned to Ned. “And we need to get a full timeline from Brady. We have no idea when he left his room or when it was trashed. We’ve just been assuming that it was while he and Joe were having lunch, but we don’t know.”

  I sighed again. I had launched so directly into this case that I hadn’t stopped to consider all the angles. I had been working off assumptions rather than facts. These were rookie mistakes, and I should know better.

  As if reading my mind, Ned put his hand on my shoulder. “I know you’re beating yourself up, Nancy, but you shouldn’t. You pursued the most logical lead first.”

  “Yeah,” George agreed. “And Tami could still be the culprit. We haven’t ruled her out.”

  “I know,” I said. “This case is just so important. The town has put so much money into this Arts Complex, and so many businesses are counting on it being a success,” I said. “I just want to make sure I get it right.”

  “You’ll solve it,” said Bess, giving me her most supportive smile. “You have three solid leads and more than two hours.”

  “Yeah,” George said. “That’s plenty of time.”

  I took a deep breath and set my jaw. My friends were right. I was going to solve this case, but I wasn’t going to do it by sitting around feeling sorry for myself.

  I stood up quickly, pushing my chair out so forcefully I almost knocked it over, much to Hannah’s disapproval. “We need to talk to Brady and get the whole story,” I said.

  We thanked Hannah for lunch and headed back out.

  Fifteen minutes later Bess, George, Ned, and I strode through the lobby of the Towering Heights Resort, heading straight to Brady’s room. I caught our reflections in the elevator; we looked like a team of undercover superheroes off to save the day. Without a word, we rode the elevator and marched down the hall to Brady’s room, where I knocked authoritatively on the door.

  “It’s not locked,” Brady said meekly from inside.

  I opened the door to find Brady curled up in a ball on his bed. He looked terrible. He was ashen, and I was pretty sure he had been crying. He looked like a pale imitation of the high-energy, fast-talking man we had met earlier in the day.

  Ned rushed to his side. “Brady? Are you okay? Nancy needs to ask you some questions.”

  “What’s the point?” Brady asked, not even bothering to lift his head from the pillow. “It’s going to be a disaster. This whole tour is going to be a disaster.”

  “That’s not true,” Ned said. “Nancy’s on the case. We’re going to solve this.”

  “All the work I’ve done for the past year is destroyed and my career is in the hands of a teenage detective. That’s how far I’ve fallen!” He pulled the pillow over his head.

  Bess stepped forward and yanked the pillow off Brady’s head.

  “Mr. Owens, we haven’t met, but my name is Bess Marvin. I am helping Nancy with your case, but she can’t solve it without your help. We have a little over two hours to figure out who targeted you. We’re not giving up and neither should you, as you have a lot more to lose than we do. So sit up, clean yourself up, and answer Nancy’s questions.”

  Brady opened one eye and saw Bess glowering down at him sternly. When Bess means business, you don’t want to mess with her. Brady obviously agreed, because after a moment he grudgingly sat up.

  “Give me a minute,” he grumbled as he trudged to the bathroom. We heard water running.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly to Bess.

  She shrugged. “Sometimes people just need a little tough love.”

  “And you always know when!” I said.

  Brady emerged from the bathroom, his face freshly scrubbed and his hair combed back. He looked calmer and more clear-eyed.

  “Okay, Nancy, go ahead and shoot,” he said, sitting down in a chair across from me. I propped myself on the edge of the bed.

  “Okay, first for the easy part. Can you walk us through your timeline of the day? When did you leave your room?”

  “I left my room around eleven a.m. and went for a walk into town. I was feeling a little jet-lagged and wanted to get some fresh air before lunch.”

  “And what time did you meet Joe?”

  “I met Joe a little past noon.”

  “Did you go back to your room in between?”

  Brady shook his head. “I had planned to, but Joe was waiting for me in the lobby when I got back, so I didn’t have time.”

  I nodded. “We got to the room . . .”

  “Exactly at one o’clock,” Ned finished.

  “So, that’s a two-hour window for our culprit to have entered the room.” I looked over at George, who was dutifully typing notes into her phone.

  I turned back to Brady and cleared my throat, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. There was no easy way to bring up what I was going to ask next.

  “We heard that you and Joe got into a fight in college . . . ,” I started.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Brady shouted before catching himself and taking a deep breath. “That was a misunderstanding. I did not steal his jokes. Besides,” he continued, “we mended those fences a long time ago.”

  “Really?” I asked. “That’s not what I heard.”

  “It’s not like we sent out an announcement saying we were talking again, but a few years ago, I had a show in San Francisco and Joe came. We caught up and we put it all behind us.”

  I nodded. “Is there anyone else who has accused you of stealing jokes?” I asked.

  “No! I don’t steal jokes!” Brady bellowed. “If I stole jokes, why would I be so upset that my notebook was destroyed? I would just go out and steal some more! And if this is the path you’re going down in this ‘investigation,’ ” he sneered, “then I might as well call Joe up and cancel my show right now, because you ain’t never going to solve this thing.”

  “As a detective, I have to follow all leads,” I said coolly. It wasn’t the first time I had been yelled at by a client. Sometimes the digging around you did in a person’s life led you to discover some things they would rather you didn’t, but as a detective my focus was on the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. Besides, even if it wasn’t pleasant to have Brady shout at me, I was happy that he was getting back to his old self. It had been disconcerting to see him so down and broken.

  “Well, I’m telling you this is the wrong lead,” Brady insisted. “Stick to that two-hour window.”

  I turned toward George. “I need to see the hotel’s security footage of the lobby.” She nodded.

  My friends immediately jumped into action.

  “Are you thinking a distract and delay?” Ned asked me.

  I nodded.

  “We know what to do,” Bess said.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Brady protested. “What are we doing?”

  “We’ll fill you in,” said Ned. “You can go, Nancy. We got this.”

  George and I headed back down to the lobby.

  I spotted a door marked STAFF ONLY in the back right corner. I pointed it out to George. “They’ll probably come out through there.”

  George nodded. She grabbed a cup of water from the cooler in the center of the room and sauntered over to the staff-only d
oor. She leaned up against the wall, looking nonchalant as she sipped water and scrolled on her phone.

  She met my eyes, indicating that she was set.

  I stepped outside the lobby and pulled out my phone and dialed the number of the hotel.

  “Towering Heights Resort. This is Pete speaking. How may I direct your call?”

  “Pete, it’s Nancy Drew.”

  “Hey, Nancy. Did you find Brady Owens?” he asked.

  “I did. Remember how you said you owed me a favor because I got Jake back for you?”

  “Sure,” Pete answered.

  “I need to cash that in. First, how many security guards are on duty right now?”

  “Well, actually,” Pete said, “they’re still in the processing of hiring people post-renovation and are a little short-staffed. There are only two on during the day.”

  “Great. Also, can you patch my call through to security and tell them I’m a guest in room 823?”

  “What’s going on, Nancy?”

  “The less you know, the better,” I said. “Can you please just do this for me?”

  There was a long pause, and I was suddenly worried that Pete would say no. I hadn’t considered that Pete wouldn’t help. I had been sure I could count on him.

  Suddenly the phone was ringing.

  “Hotel security,” a gruff voice answered. Pete had come through after all!

  “Security! Come quick. I just got back to my room and saw two men go running out and when I stepped inside, the room had been completely destroyed and my grandmother’s diamond engagement ring is missing.”

  “We’ll send someone right away,” the voice said, bored. “You’re in room 823?”

  “Yes, but someone?!” I shrieked, really emphasizing the “one” to make my point. “Did you not hear what I just said?! There are two men on the run in your hotel, one of whom has my grandmother’s diamond engagement ring. You need to send two officers. At least.”

  “All right, ma’am, we’re on our way.” I heard rustling sounds, as if he was standing up, right before the phone hung up.