Shadow of a Doubt

by Carolyn Keene

  Nancy met Vaughn’s eyes and considered her options. What did she hope to find out from Nicodemus anyway? His personal opinions about Robert Gleason and Dennis Allard more than anything else. And what was Vaughn’s angle? What did he have on her father?

  Nancy realized the mess she had gotten herself into.

  “I’ll see Nicodemus,” she concluded, standing up and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “And I understand what you’re telling me. But I’m not going to report back to you about what I learn from him unless I think it will help my father.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” Vaughn said. “And I’m not asking you to. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t warn you.” He stood up and walked over to reach for the doorknob. The interview was at an end.

  As Nancy was leaving she turned in the doorway and tried one last question. “Just what kind of proof do you have? I’m sure you know how serious it is to go to the DA and accuse my father of obstructing justice.”

  “I haven’t accused Carson Drew of anything. Yet,” Vaughn said.

  “Pam, call Peter Nicodemus,” he called past Nancy out the door. “The number’s in the Rolodex. Tell him that I’m sending Nancy Drew over and that he should give her a royal tour.”

  Nancy asked Vaughn for Nicodemus’s address, and since it wasn’t far, she decided to walk. It would give her time to think.

  Nancy left the building, only vaguely aware of the people around her. She was lost in thought. Vaughn must have some important piece of evidence against her father, or at the least he must think he did. She might find out what it was from Mr. Nicodemus, but probably not, since Vaughn had agreed to send her there.

  So who’s holding the key? she wondered. Had Gleason contacted Vaughn before he died? Was there something Chris and Kate Gleason weren’t telling her?

  Before she knew it, Nancy was taking the elevator up to Mobley and Myerson’s offices on the fifteenth floor of an elegant brick building. To her right were glass doors and a brass plaque with the company name. She took a deep breath and pushed on the brass doorplate.

  Nancy had barely announced herself to the receptionist when a tall, handsome man wandered out to the firm’s reception area. She was startled to see how young he was. If it hadn’t been for a few gray hairs, she would have taken Peter Nicodemus for a college student.

  “Nancy Drew,” Nicodemus said, greeting her with his right hand extended. “I’m glad I’ve finally gotten a chance to meet Carson Drew’s daughter and River Heights’s most famous detective.”

  Nancy took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “I guess we should start on this floor,” Nicodemus was saying. “This is where most of the attorneys work. Except, of course, for the partners. They have their own floor just above this one.”

  Nancy followed Nicodemus as he led the way down the firm’s halls. Along the outside wall, lawyers had their offices. Each one had at least one large window, and each one’s furniture and decoration reflected a slightly different personality. On the inside wall, across from the lawyers’ offices, secretaries sat at desks behind chest-high partitions.

  “If you’ll come this way, I’ll show you the nuts and bolts of the operation.” Nicodemus led her down a flight of stairs. By the time they reached the next floor, Nancy noticed the noise level had increased considerably.

  They were in one large room, separated by partitions that went halfway up to the ceiling. At the far end of the large space was a sort of secretarial pool, except that all the employees there were at computer terminals instead of typewriters.

  “This is our word-processing department. All the firm’s work goes in and out of here at some point,” Nicodemus explained.

  “And over here,” he said, pointing to an area close to them, “is the accounting department. That was why you came, right?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “I wanted to know about Robert Gleason and Dennis Allard, the two accountants who worked here and were accused of embezzling from the firm.” It was an abrupt remark, but it didn’t seem to faze Nicodemus.

  “That was the most, well—embarrassing thing that could ever have happened to the firm.” Nicodemus shook his head. “And for me, too.”

  “Why is that?” Nancy asked.

  “I was the manager of accounting at the time, and it was all going on under my nose.” Nicodemus glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “I handled the whole situation pretty effectively once I found out. At least the firm was pleased. That’s part of the reason why they promoted me to director of administration.”

  “Is there anyone else still in the department who would remember Gleason or Allard?” Nancy asked as Nicodemus guided her across the room. Soon they were standing in the middle of a row of desks where bookkeepers’ fingers danced quickly across calculators.

  “I’m afraid not,” he said. “We let most of the staff go.” Nancy gave him a surprised look. “I know it seems harsh, but we had to. There was no way of telling who else might have been involved in some small way.”

  Another dead end, Nancy thought, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Could you give me a list of who was working here at the time?”

  “Sure.” Nicodemus smiled softly. “I’ll have my secretary make one up.”

  Nancy had noticed there wasn’t much privacy in the accounting area. “How do you think Gleason managed it?” she asked. “The embezzlement.”

  “I know it seems improbable, but essentially there were no safeguards,” Nicodemus explained. “He was in charge of one aspect of the firm’s accounting and Allard, the other. He phonied the accounts so well that even I didn’t recognize his scheme.” Nicodemus nervously ran his hands through his curly black hair at the memory of it.

  “But things have changed here,” he went on. “We rearranged the whole department. One person inputs the billing information. Another goes over it to make sure it matches the computer files. And the data manager keeps track of the files, cleaning out old copies and double-checking that the person who input the information got it right.”

  Nancy could see from all the activity in the room that the new system kept everyone pretty busy. Then she had a thought.

  “Can I talk to the data manager? There might be something in the old files that has to do with the case,” she explained.

  Nicodemus looked at her carefully. “But the police and the district attorney looked at all those records. More than once. I don’t think you’re going to find anything.”

  Nancy knew he was probably right. “Even so,” she said. “I’d like to take a look.”

  “Sure.” Nicodemus walked over to a corner of the room where a woman sat in front of a computer screen, a stack of printouts piled high on her desk.

  “Cheryl Pomeroy, meet Nancy Drew. Nancy would like to ask you some questions about our computer records.”

  The girl in charge was only a few years older than Nancy, and from the way she responded to Nicodemus, Nancy could tell she was more than a little intimidated by him. She pushed her cropped black hair behind her ears, then fidgeted with the collar of her white shirt.

  “What did you want to know?” Cheryl asked finally.

  “Do you know about the embezzlement that happened here at the firm?” Nancy began.

  Cheryl nodded. “Everyone does. It’s the first office gossip you hear,” she said, smiling a little. Then she got serious again and stared at Nancy with huge gray eyes.

  “What I’m interested in is any old files that date from that time. Have you seen anything on the computer records that goes back that far?”

  “I only started a few weeks ago.” Cheryl stopped and looked up at Nicodemus, who nodded for her to go ahead. Now Nancy knew why the girl was so timid. It was probably her first job.

  “And?” Nancy tried to be gentle with her questions.

  “From what I understand, the DA subpoenaed all those records. They were carted out of here, including all the printouts,” Cheryl said.

&n
bsp; “Haven’t you ever found anything they might have missed?” Nancy prodded.

  Cheryl shook her head. “Some of the files go back that far, and I’ve been weeding them out. But, no, I don’t remember seeing a file that had to do with the embezzlement.”

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how can you be sure?” Nancy asked politely.

  “I would have recognized the list of clients,” she explained, looking up at Nicodemus. “Everyone around here knows who they were.”

  Nicodemus looked at Nancy. “I’m sorry we can’t help you,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I have to get back to work now. It’s getting late.”

  Nancy looked up at the clock; it was nearly three in the afternoon and she hadn’t had lunch yet. She decided to head home to wait for her father. He’d told her he might leave work early.

  Nicodemus ushered her out of the department and left her at the bank of elevators. “I hope you aren’t too disappointed,” he said, pushing the down button. “But that case is ancient history.”

  Nancy stepped into the elevator just then. “Thanks anyway,” she said as the doors slid shut.

  • • •

  Nancy had only been back home for a few minutes when the doorbell rang.

  She rushed out of the kitchen with an “I’ll get it” to Hannah. When she opened the door, Nancy was astonished. Cheryl Pomeroy was standing on the Drews’ front porch.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Cheryl said. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” Nancy held the door open, confusion on her face. She wondered how Cheryl had found her.

  Cheryl must have read her face well because she answered Nancy’s unspoken question. “I left work early and followed you. I had to. I just couldn’t keep quiet any longer.”

  “About what? What’s wrong? Did something happen at work?”

  “No. Well, yes.” Cheryl suddenly broke down into tears.

  “Cheryl, what’s the matter?” Nancy asked.

  “I’m not sure how to say this. A few weeks ago Robert Gleason was at the firm, in our department.”

  “And?”

  “And he asked the same sort of questions you were asking today,” she said ominously.

  Nancy put her hand out on the girl’s arm. “I don’t understand. Take it easy and explain.”

  “Don’t you see?” Cheryl asked. There was an edge of desperation in her voice. “It’s just too much.”

  “What is, Cheryl?” Nancy asked patiently.

  “He wanted to know about the files, too. I let him borrow one.” She drew in a deep breath. “Now he’s dead! Oh, Nancy, what’s going to happen to me if someone finds out what I did?”

  Chapter

  Nine

  CHERYL POMEROY BROKE DOWN and started to sob. Nancy put her arms around the girl and walked her into the kitchen. Hannah was in there, starting to prepare dinner. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Nancy when she saw Cheryl.

  “I’ll explain later,” Nancy whispered to Hannah. She turned back to Cheryl.

  The girl was fingering a wadded-up piece of tissue, but she had stopped crying. She sat down at the Drews’ kitchen table.

  “I just want to get this whole thing off my chest,” she said, cupping her chin in her hands. “Ever since it happened, I’ve been afraid someone would find out what I did.”

  “What do you mean, what you did?” Nancy asked soothingly, sitting down next to Cheryl.

  “You have to understand. I could lose my job. It’s my first—I only graduated in June from junior college. Already I’ve made a mistake that could cost me my job.”

  Nancy reached out and put a hand on Cheryl’s shoulder. “Take it easy,” she said. “I wouldn’t tell anyone, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if you did. I’ve already gotten in too deep.” Cheryl looked as if she was on the verge of tears again.

  Hannah coughed. Nancy remembered she hadn’t explained what this was all about, but now wasn’t the time. “Hannah—” she began.

  “You don’t have to ask,” Hannah said. “I can see you want to be alone. I have some things to do upstairs, anyway.”

  “Thanks,” Nancy said, smiling.

  As soon as Hannah had left, Nancy turned back to Cheryl. “Now, why don’t you start at the beginning. Robert Gleason came to see you?” she asked, trying to keep the girl going.

  “Not me,” Cheryl answered, sniffing. “He must have come to see Mr. Nicodemus. But somehow he got down into my department and started nosing around.”

  “What was he looking for?” Nancy asked.

  “I didn’t know at first. When he found out I was in charge of the computer records he started asking me all sorts of questions. The same kind of questions you were asking me today.”

  That explained why Cheryl had been so scared earlier, Nancy realized. She began to put the pieces together. “And you found something that would help him, right?” she asked encouragingly.

  Cheryl nodded. “At first I decided not to help him. I should have followed my first impulse.”

  Cheryl got up and began pacing around the kitchen. “But he seemed like such a nice man, and I couldn’t believe all those things people had said about him.”

  “So you decided to trust him?” Nancy asked.

  “In the end I didn’t have any choice. I let it slip that I had found a file in the computer records that had both his and Dennis Allard’s names on it.”

  Nancy was excited but confused. “I thought you said all the files were gone.”

  “I didn’t tell the truth.” Cheryl paused. “I didn’t want Mr. Nicodemus to know.”

  “I understand,” Nancy said, nodding. “Then everything would have come out. But tell me, how did you find it?”

  Cheryl took a deep breath. “It was buried deep in the computer—all the way back in files from eight years ago,” she explained. “Actually, I had found it by accident—I typed in a wrong code—but it was the right one for me to get access to that program. As I said, it was completely accidental.”

  Nancy edged closer. “Go on,” she said. “Gleason asked you for the file—”

  “He did more than ask.” Cheryl’s gray eyes grew large at the memory. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. He started talking loudly, demanding the file, and pretty soon I realized that people were looking at us. So to quiet him down, I accessed it and gave him a copy.”

  Cheryl placed her hands on the table next to Nancy and leaned over them. Tears were making their way down her cheeks. “You have to understand, I didn’t know what I was doing. He kept saying he was innocent and he needed the file to prove it. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “I know you didn’t.” Nancy stood up and put her arm around Cheryl. “Try not to get so upset.”

  “Hi, Nancy. What’s going on?” Carson Drew stood in the doorway to the kitchen, taking in Cheryl and Nancy.

  “Dad, this is Cheryl Pomeroy. She’s got some important information about Robert Gleason.”

  Cheryl nodded to Carson, then sat down again while Nancy explained to her father what had happened.

  “I thought I had very specifically asked you not to get involved,” Carson said sternly.

  Nancy tried her best to make her father understand. “You did, but I had to do something.” She had left out the part about seeing Vaughn—that, she’d explain later.

  “Well, what’s done is done. Right now we have to deal with Cheryl.” Carson turned to the girl. “What do you think was in the file you gave Gleason?” he asked gently.

  “That’s what’s so confusing,” she answered, looking at Carson. “The file was divided into twelve parts, one for every month of the year. It had to be a copy of the firm’s books.”

  “For what year?” Nancy asked.

  “The same year the embezzling occurred.”

  “You’re sure?” Carson asked.

  Cheryl nodded. “I checked. And what was really strange was that when I went to double-check the figures
with the firm’s books, they were all different.” She wrinkled her forehead. “It just doesn’t make sense,” she concluded.

  It made sense to Nancy and Carson. “What made Gleason so excited was that he knew you had found a copy of the phony set of books!” she said.

  “Wait a minute, Nancy,” Carson said. “Why would that help him? He knew we all had a copy of the faked records. They were what convicted him in the first place.”

  “What good would it do Gleason to have another copy of the evidence that had sent him to jail?”

  “But you said that Gleason practically begged you for a copy, right?” Nancy asked Cheryl.

  The girl nodded sadly. “And—this is the worst part—he asked me to delete the file from the system. He said that he didn’t want anyone else getting their hands on what he had.” She moaned. “I can’t believe I did it. If it was really that important, I probably did the worst thing someone with my job could ever do. It’s like destroying evidence.”

  Nancy saw her father flinch. “Can you remember anything else about the file?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I’ve told you everything I know.” She picked up her purse and smiled.

  Nancy studied Cheryl for a moment. Her mood had changed a lot from the scared girl who had been sitting there just a few minutes ago. Now she seemed in control, almost relieved.

  “I’m really glad I told you about all this,” Cheryl said. “But as I said, if anyone finds out I could lose my job. So—”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone,” Nancy assured her. “Thanks for your help.”

  Nancy let Cheryl out and watched as she got in her car. Carson was standing in the living room when she came back inside.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Nancy said. “That I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

  “Nancy,” Carson said. “From now on, you do have to leave this alone. The district attorney will take care of it.”

  “You’re right.” Nancy reached into the hall closet for her coat.

  “Where are you going now?” Carson asked.

  “Don’t look so suspicious,” Nancy said with a smile. “I promised George I’d meet her.” She put on her coat, gave her father a peck on the cheek, and left the house.