The E-Mail Mystery

by Carolyn Keene

  course it is. All the computers in the office are

  networked. But I'll be needing to refer to some of

  these law books as well, so I thought it would be easier

  to work in here—if it's any of your business.”

  Nancy tensed. Had Blaine monitored their con-

  versation with SEEK from her own computer earlier?

  Could Blaine be SEEK? Was Blaine able to track

  B&N's movements on-line? There was no way Nancy

  could answer these questions. “Okay, Blaine,” she said.

  “Good night.”

  “See you later,” Blaine said, echoing SEEK's final

  message to the girls.

  The next morning Carson Drew was not at break-

  fast. “He went in early,” Hannah Gruen told Nancy,

  offering her a bowl of fresh fruit. “I think he has a

  court appearance. I missed you last night,” she added.

  “I got together with Bess again,” Nancy said, helping

  herself to a banana. “She was teaching me about the

  Internet. In fact, I'm going to ask Dad if she can help

  with my work at the office.”

  “I'd be surprised if you got a chance to see him,”

  Hannah said. “I know that new Harris case is taking all

  his time.”

  “I don't see much of him,” Nancy said, looking at the

  clock. “I've got to get going myself. I've got a lot of

  work to do, too.” Nancy said good-bye to Hannah and

  headed for the front door.

  When she arrived at the office Nancy greeted Ms.

  Hanson, then went straight to work in the library. After

  about an hour she heard her father come in. Nancy

  stood up and stretched. Then she left the library and

  went to knock at her father's office door.

  “Come in,” he called. Nancy entered and smiled at

  her dad. His desk was piled high with folders and

  papers. “Just got back from court,” he said wearily,

  “and this is what greeted me. I thought the computer

  was going to usher in the age of the paperless office,”

  he went on. “But by the looks of my desk, you'd never

  know it.”

  “Dad, I need to talk to you,” Nancy said.

  “You're not going to leave me, I hope,” her father

  said seriously.

  “Oh, no, Dad, not till the work is finished. What I

  wanted to ask is if Bess could come in and help me.

  The work is taking longer than I thought it would, and

  I don't want to miss my sailing trip with George. If

  Bess helped, we could finish twice as fast,” she

  concluded. “Bess is really careful, and she's become a

  computer whiz. You should have seen her last night.”

  “That's fine, Nancy. I'm sure Bess will be a big help.

  Blaine told me you two were in here late last night,”

  Mr. Drew said. “She also said that you were on the

  Internet. She seemed concerned that you might have

  been careless and allowed a computer virus into our

  system or an outsider access to our files.”

  Nancy's eyes opened wide. “She gave us a start last

  night because I thought the offices were empty. We'd

  already turned out the lights in the law library when

  Blaine opened the door. Believe me, we jumped! But

  how could she know Bess and I had been on the

  Internet? We just told her we were . . . wait a minute.”

  Nancy thought furiously.

  “What?” her father asked.

  “As we were leaving, Blaine turned on the computer

  Bess and I had been using,” Nancy said. “Do you think

  she could track what we had done? We had changed

  our screen name so no one would know we were

  calling from here. How could she have known it was

  us?”

  “I don't know,” Mr. Drew said. “She told me Byron

  Thomas is always going on-line as well, so I guess she

  has some way of tracking our Internet use.” Byron!

  thought Nancy. I wonder if he tracked me and Bess on-

  line—or if Blaine's really the guilty one, and she's

  trying to shift the suspicion onto Byron.

  “Doesn't Byron have to go on-line to do all the

  research she asks him to do?” Nancy asked aloud.

  “I think Blaine's just trying to keep track of what

  goes on,” Mr. Drew continued. “I explained that it

  doesn't cost extra to have people on-line after office

  hours, and that I was sure you and Bess were careful

  not to compromise our computer security.”

  “What computer security?” Nancy asked. “Dad,

  everyone knows everyone else's password here. Your

  files are available to everyone in the office.”

  “We have to operate that way,” Mr. Drew explained.

  “Sometimes I need Blaine to follow up on some work,

  or Ms. Hanson to print out a file, or Byron or Henry to

  do further research. They all have to be able to access

  my files.”

  He looked at Nancy. “You don't still think some

  hacker is breaking into our system and E-mailing out

  sensitive information, do you?”

  “Something's going on, Dad,” Nancy said. “I'm sure

  of it. I didn't tell you last night, but yesterday I called

  those clients who had settled early. Three of them cut

  me off, but Bob Jamison said someone had made him

  settle. And he implied that the threat was connected to

  information from your office, maybe from his old case

  file.”

  “This is serious, Nancy,” Mr. Drew said. “You should

  have told me right away. I'd better call Bob, and—”

  “Maybe you should wait a day or two,” Nancy said.

  “He was pretty angry. I know this could really affect

  you and your business, Dad, and I'm going to get to the

  bottom of it. Bess and I are meeting with a computer

  expert to see if he can help us track the E-mail that was

  sent on the first day you received those cases.”

  Nancy's father put his head in his hands. “Please

  don't say anything yet,” Nancy went on. “I'll tell Bess

  she can come help me tomorrow. I know you've got

  your hands full with this Harris case, and I should get

  back to work now.” Carson Drew smiled at his

  daughter as she left his office.

  At about noon Nancy decided to go out for a

  sandwich. She walked to a nearby deli and ordered

  tuna salad on a roll.

  While she was waiting at the counter for her order,

  she noticed Blaine Warner, seated in a booth with a

  young man.

  Nancy edged toward the far end of the take-out

  counter, and pretended to examine the tray of Danish

  pastries. She kept her back to the restaurant area so

  Blaine couldn't recognize her.

  Nancy listened intently over the din of the busy

  restaurant. She thought she heard her father's name

  mentioned, and then she overheard the words, “When

  we were at Walker . . .”

  Oh, Nancy said to herself, it's probably an old law

  school classmate of hers. Then she stopped herself. I've

  seen him before, though. In the elevator at Williams &

  Brown. It's John Brown Junior, I'm sure of it. So, they

  do know each other.

  Jus
t then Nancy's order came up. Nancy was

  frustrated that she couldn't overhear more of their

  conversation, but she was unwilling to let Blaine know

  she had seen her. Nancy took her sandwich and a can

  of iced tea, and went back to the office.

  Nancy returned to the library and sat down by her

  computer to eat her sandwich. No sooner had she

  opened the bag, when the door opened and Henry Yi

  appeared.

  “Take you out to lunch?” he asked, flashing her a

  friendly grin.

  “Thanks, I picked up a sandwich,” Nancy replied,

  pointing to the brown bag on the table. “But let me ask

  you something, Henry. We never got to finish our

  conversation the other day.”

  “Which one?” he asked, leaning toward her.

  “The one about those recent cases that were settled

  early,” Nancy went on. “Remember? We were in the

  copy room and Blaine walked in on us. I really want to

  know why you had that list of client names. The one I

  found in the copy machine in your handwriting.” She

  looked at Henry, waiting for his reply.

  Henry's expression became serious, and in a low,

  conspiratorial whisper, he confided in Nancy, “I think

  someone may be stealing information and using it to

  settle these cases early. But I can't tell you who I think

  it is, until I have more evidence.”

  Nancy was surprised that Henry was thinking along

  the same lines she was. But she didn't want to let him

  know that she, too, was investigating a possible crime.

  She certainly wasn't going to tell him about the E-mail

  log file, her research into the old criminal cases, her

  phone calls to the frightened clients, or her seeing

  Blaine and John Brown Jr. at the coffee shop . . . or her

  suspicions of Henry himself.

  “Really? How horrible,” Nancy said. “Have you told

  my father about your suspicions?”

  “Not yet,” Henry answered, still speaking softly. He

  peered over his shoulder to make sure they were alone.

  “I don't want to get anyone in trouble until I'm sure

  who's behind it.”

  “Please let me know as soon as your suspicions are

  proved,” Nancy said, “and I'll go with you to see my

  father about it.”

  “That would be great,” Henry said with a smile.

  This is a little too easy, Nancy thought. What was

  Henry's real motivation, she wondered. To get ahead

  with her father, to get closer to her, or to throw

  suspicion off himself!

  11. Hide and SEEK

  At the end of the day, Nancy called Bess and told her

  that her father had agreed that both of them could help

  with the computer work.

  “That's great, Nancy!” Bess exclaimed.

  The two girls talked excitedly, anticipating the high-

  tech “spy” conversation they were going to have with

  the computer expert called SEEK, and what

  sophisticated methods he would use to track E-mail

  through Carson Drew's computer system.

  “Let's meet at Art-Dot-Café, since we know where

  that is,” Bess suggested. “Then we can walk over to the

  Cyber Space together. I can't wait to meet this SEEK

  guy. He sounds so romantic, telling us to bring a rose.”

  Nancy could hear the excitement in her friend's voice.

  “He's probably just some computer nerd,” Nancy

  teased. “You've been reading too many romance

  novels,” she added, laughing.

  “Fine, Miss Detective,” Bess retorted, “just for that,

  you bring the rose.”

  “Okay, I will. See you later,” Nancy said with a

  smile. Just as she hung up, Blaine Warner walked in.

  “I'll be working late tonight, Nancy,” she said. “I

  won't be going anywhere,” she added unnecessarily.

  “Are you and your friend planning to play around on

  the computers again?”

  Nancy pursed her lips at Blaine's condescending

  tone. “No,” she said, “I'm meeting Bess for coffee, and

  she and I will be here tomorrow morning. My father

  said she could come in and help clean out those old

  files.”

  “This Harris case is turning into a monster,” Blaine

  went on. “Next week, we'll be bringing in extra legal

  help, and we'll need all the computer terminals. I hope

  you'll be done by then, so we'll have room for

  everyone.”

  “Well, with Bess's help, I should be able to finish up

  in another day or two,” Nancy said. “Then I'll be out of

  your way.”

  She wondered about Blaine's motives for trying to

  get her out of the office. Nancy left the library while

  Blaine settled in at one of the computer terminals.

  On her way downtown Nancy stopped and bought a

  single red rose.

  Bess was waiting for Nancy in the doorway to the

  Art.Café. “Nancy,” she whispered excitedly, “isn't that

  your poet guy—Byron what's-his-name?” She pointed

  inside the café, where Byron was at a computer

  terminal.

  “He looks like he's getting ready to leave,” Nancy

  said. “Let's go into the ladies' room so he doesn't see

  us.”

  The two girls slipped into the coffeehouse and made

  their way to the ladies' room. They peered out from

  behind the door while Byron paid his bill. When he

  went into the men's room, they emerged from the

  ladies' room and went into the main part of the café.

  “Can you figure out what he was doing on the

  computer?” Nancy asked.

  “I don't know,” Bess said. “Let's take a look.” The

  two girls sat down at the machine Byron had just used.

  “Look,” Bess said. “He was just on-line with someone

  at the Cyber Space, see? That's their IP address right

  there.”

  “Here he comes,” Nancy said. “Duck down behind

  the computer screen so he can't see you.”

  The two girls peered around the edge of the monitor

  to see Byron leave the men's room and head out into

  the street.

  “Let's tail him,” Nancy said. “I want to find out

  where he's going.”

  “What about our date with SEEK at the Cyber

  Space?” Bess asked.

  “We've got plenty of time,” Nancy replied. “Let's

  go.”

  The two girls trailed Bryon about two blocks to a

  small café in a rundown building on the waterfront.

  The sign over the doorway read The Cyber Space Café.

  Nancy and Bess exchanged a look, then entered behind

  Byron.

  The interior of the building was sleek and modern,

  much to their surprise. The walls were exposed brick.

  Pipes and other building materials had been left in

  plain sight and painted a dazzling silver. Under the low

  light, brilliant halogen spots illuminated the small

  round marble-top tables. People, sitting alone and in

  pairs, hunched over small laptop computers placed at

  each seating area. On the stage in back, someone was

  reciting poetry.

  Nancy and Bess saw Byron
take a disk from his bag,

  put it in one of the laptops, and begin to type.

  “Do you think he could be SEEK?” Bess asked.

  “He fits the description,” Nancy said. “Let's find

  out.” After she and Bess walked over to his table,

  Nancy dropped the rose across his keyboard.

  “Hello, SEEK,” she said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Byron jumped up. “Nancy! W-what are you doing

  here!”

  “I thought this was where you suggested we meet,”

  she replied. “Didn't we speak on-line last night?”

  “I—I didn't talk to you on-line last night,” he

  replied. “I just came here a few minutes ago. I mean, I

  just sent in a poem from the computers over at the Art-

  Dot-Café, and they said I could come over and read it

  onstage. Out loud and in person, you know? It's open-

  mike night, see?” he said, gesturing to the person

  reading poetry in the back of the performance space.

  “You mean you aren't SEEK?” Bess said.

  “I don't know what you mean,” Byron said to Bess.

  “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “Henry told me you were a poet,” Nancy inter-

  rupted, “but I didn't know you were so serious about

  it.”

  “I am serious,” Byron admitted. “I'm only going to

  law school to satisfy my parents, so I can support

  myself in the future—after I pay off all my loans, that

  is. What I really want to do is write poetry.”

  “So when you go on-line, it's not to do legal

  research?” Nancy asked.

  “Not always,” Byron confessed. “Sometimes I use

  the office Internet access to work on my Web page. I'm

  finally beginning to get some serious attention in

  underground publishing circles. Tonight's just open-

  mike night,” he went on excitedly. “But if they like my

  stuff, I can have my own reading on Friday. Maybe you

  and your friend would like to come and hear me?”

  “That sounds great,” Bess said.

  “Let me know if you get it,” Nancy said. “You can E-

  mail me the invitation,” she added with a grin.

  “Meanwhile, if you're not SEEK, we're supposed to

  be meeting someone else,” Bess said. She picked up

  the rose Nancy had dropped on Byron's keyboard. “I

  hope we haven't scared SEEK off. Come on, Nancy,

  let's get our own table and see what happens.”

  “See you later, Nancy. Nice to see you again, Bess,”

  Byron said.

  The two girls made their way to an empty table and