Circle of Evil

by Carolyn Keene

  Nancy nodded again. “But I’ve done pretty well for an amateur,” she told him. “And as Joanna said, I promised her I’d help. So, please, let me know what I can do.”

  When he didn’t answer, Nancy continued, saying, “It really doesn’t look much like amateur work, does it, Detective? You did take a good look at that safe, didn’t you? I think we’re dealing with some pretty slick professionals.”

  Detective Ryan looked coolly at Nancy and raised one eyebrow. “We?” he asked. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

  “I told you,” Joanna said. “I asked Nancy to help solve this case.”

  The detective’s eyebrow shot up even farther. “If you don’t mind, Ms. Tate, I think I’ll handle this one my own way. And that means using the police department, not an amateur detective.”

  “But I do mind!” Joanna protested. “Nancy promised she’d help, and I want her to.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Tate, but you don’t really have any choice in the matter. I’m the detective in charge of the case, and what I say goes.”

  “Listen, Detective Ryan,” Nancy said. “I don’t want to butt in, but—”

  “Good,” he said, interrupting. “Then don’t.”

  Nancy took a deep breath. Detective Ryan was beginning to bug her—a lot. “I was going to say that I guarantee I won’t get in your way, if that’s what you’re worried about. I won’t do any harm. And who knows? I just might help.”

  “What makes you so sure you won’t do any harm?” he asked impatiently.

  “I guess it’s because I know what you have to do to solve a case,” Nancy explained. “I’ve solved some cases on my own, and—”

  “That’s fine, Ms. Drew,” Detective Ryan said quickly. “You just keep on solving your own cases and stay away from mine.” He started for the door and then stopped. Turning back, he pointed a finger at Nancy. “I warn you, Ms. Drew. Don’t mess with this case.”

  Chapter

  Three

  LATE THE NEXT morning, as Nancy turned her blue Mustang into the entrance of the River Heights Country Club, she couldn’t help but wonder. There she was, on the case, just twelve hours after Detective Ryan had warned her to stay off it. Should she continue or not?

  Detective Ryan didn’t know Nancy, of course, so he didn’t know that telling her not to follow a case was like telling her not to breathe. But she didn’t want to cross him, either. Still, she reasoned, she had promised Joanna she’d help, and she didn’t want to let her down. If she was lucky, she could help without the detective even knowing about it, for a while, anyway. She just hoped she wouldn’t run into him at the club that day. She wanted a chance to get started on her own before she had to deal with him.

  Nancy was usually too busy to spend much time at the club. Despite her schedule, though, she seemed to have been there a lot recently. Before that, she had almost forgotten how peaceful it was, with its emerald-green golf course, its rambling stone clubhouse, and the tiled swimming and diving pools. That day, Nancy intended to follow Joanna and see whom she talked to at the club—and how much she told them about her possessions.

  After parking her car in the lot near the clubhouse, Nancy took her green canvas carryall and walked along the flagstone path that led to the swimming pool. The patio around the pool was crowded with people lounging, tanning, and sipping cool drinks. It seemed as if everyone was talking at once, but the first voice Nancy heard was Joanna’s.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Joanna was saying. “I mean, I had to beg my parents to let me stay at home alone, and then this happens! I just don’t know what I’m going to do if that necklace doesn’t turn up.”

  Joanna was talking to everyone in general, but the one who was listening the hardest was a tall, good-looking boy with sun-bleached hair and a peeling nose. He has to be a lifeguard, Nancy thought. She had never met a lifeguard who didn’t have a peeling nose.

  “Nancy!” Joanna called when she saw her. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid you might change your mind after the way that detective treated you.”

  Nancy smiled and shook her head. “Not a chance,” she said, easing into one of the lounge chairs.

  Sighing in relief, Joanna turned to the lifeguard. “This is Nancy Drew, Mike,” she told him. “She’s a fabulous detective, and she’s going to find out who took my necklace.”

  “No kidding?” Mike gave Nancy a curious look. “What’s your plan for finding it?”

  Smiling, Nancy shook her head. “I don’t have one yet,” she said. Even if I did, she thought, I wouldn’t talk about it.

  Mike smiled back. He was still staring at her, and Nancy figured he must be a mystery buff. Either that, or he just liked the way she looked in her blue shorts and halter top. “It’s kind of funny, though,” he remarked, “that you’re starting your investigation here at the club. This is nowhere near the scene of the crime, is it?”

  “Oh, she just came here to talk to me,” Joanna chimed in. “She doesn’t really have any suspects yet.”

  “Well, I wish you luck,” Mike said, getting ready to climb back up to his lifeguard chair. “Everybody here knew so much about that necklace that we feel like we’ve been robbed, too.”

  “Robbed?” a voice said. “Did somebody mention robbery?”

  Turning to a woman who had just come out of the clubhouse, Joanna told her all about her missing necklace.

  “I know exactly how you feel,” the woman said sympathetically. “It was only two weeks ago that our Picasso disappeared. We had just come back from a trip, and we were going to have a party to show off the painting, but it disappeared.” She shook her head and sighed. “Most people think we don’t have a chance in a million of ever getting it back, either.”

  “What do the police say?” Nancy asked.

  “Not much,” the woman told her. “Detective Ryan thinks a professional ring of thieves is behind it and that our painting has changed hands at least five times by now.”

  So, Nancy thought, Ryan was on that case, too. It would be a nice feather in his cap if he could solve both of them by himself. No wonder he didn’t want her help. In a few minutes, the woman decided to go for a swim. Joanna wanted to get out of the sun for a while, so she and Nancy decided to go into the clubhouse lounge.

  On the way, Nancy said to Joanna, “You know, I think it would be better if you didn’t tell everyone I’m on the case. It just makes my investigation harder.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Nancy,” Joanna said, putting a hand on her arm. “I didn’t think. I’ll try to keep my mouth shut from now on. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Joanna,” Nancy said as they entered the lounge. “That will really help.”

  The clubhouse lounge was a big, bright room with round tables and a long wooden bar on one side. As soon as the bartender saw Joanna, he smiled and waved her over. He was young, with dark curly hair, sparkling black eyes, and a friendly grin.

  “That’s Zachary,” Joanna told Nancy, leading her toward the bar. “He’s one of the nicest guys around.” She introduced Nancy and ordered lemonade for both of them.

  “How’s it going, Jo?” Zachary asked, filling their glasses.

  “Oh, Zach, it couldn’t be worse!” Joanna moaned. “Remember that necklace I told you about?”

  “The emerald one that some long-dead princess wore?” he asked.

  “Diamonds, rubies, and a countess,” Joanna said, correcting. “But it doesn’t matter, anyway, because it’s gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean gone, vanished, stolen!”

  Zach gave a low whistle. “Uh-oh. I’ll bet your father’s really freaked.”

  “He doesn’t know about it yet,” Joanna said. “He and Mother are in Mexico.”

  Zach whistled again, shaking his head. “Boy, you people with money have problems I can’t even dream about. You know Mr. Fairchild? Well, he was in here a couple of days ago, telling everybody about some rare book he had just bought. He was going away on a business trip
, and he was really proud of the way he’d hidden the book.”

  “How was that?” Nancy asked.

  “Right on the shelf with his ordinary books,” Zach said. “He thought it was perfect—no one would think to look for a rare book there. Anyway,” he said, going on, “I just hope Mr. Fairchild has a good security system, or he might find himself in the same pickle you are, Jo.”

  “Nobody could be in the same pickle,” Joanna said. “They don’t have to face my father.” Then she brightened up a little. “But at least I have Nancy Drew working for me. She’s a detective, Zach, and if anybody can figure out what happened to that necklace, she can.”

  Zach grinned at Nancy as he poured soda into a glass. “A detective, huh? That’s great. I’m crazy about mystery books, read them all the time. What’s your theory about the ‘mystery of the missing necklace’?”

  Before Nancy could answer, the telephone behind the bar buzzed, and Zach answered it. “Sorry,” he said after he had hung up. “I have to get some drinks down to the men’s locker room. Talk to you later, Jo.” Grinning over his shoulder at Nancy, he said, “Good hunting, Detective.”

  After Zach left, Nancy looked at Joanna and sighed. “Joanna, you just promised me that you weren’t going to tell anyone—”

  “I know, I know,” Joanna said, interrupting. “But Zach’s my friend, and I didn’t think it would matter if I told him.”

  “Joanna, it does matter—you could be talking to the thief!”

  “Zach?” Joanna asked incredulously. “There’s no way.” As she took the final sip of her lemonade, she saw Nancy’s exasperated expression. “Okay, okay. I won’t tell anyone else.”

  “Please, Joanna. Try.”

  Joanna signed the check, and the girls headed back to the pool. As they strolled outside, they passed the tennis courts. “Oh, there’s Max Fletcher!” Joanna said, waving to a young man who had just finished a game. “Everybody thinks he’s the best-looking guy at the club. He’s got the most money, that’s for sure,” she added. “He inherited his father’s business—Fletcher Electronics.”

  Something about that name rang a bell in Nancy’s head, but she didn’t have time to think about it then. Returning Joanna’s wave, Max Fletcher draped a towel around his neck and walked over to the two girls. He was tall and slender, with light brown hair and pale blue eyes. Joanna introduced Nancy to him and then told the story of her missing necklace again—without mentioning Nancy. Max, Nancy noticed, didn’t seem too interested.

  “Tough luck,” he said, opening a new can of tennis balls. “Hey, can I interest either one of you in a game?”

  “No thanks,” Joanna answered for both of them. “We’re a little busy now.”

  Max sighed. “Too bad. I could use some new competition to keep things exciting.” Sighing again, he sauntered slowly back to the courts.

  As the two girls continued on in the direction of the pool, Joanna realized that she had left her towel in the lounge. Since it was one of her own towels, they decided to return to the lounge to get it. As they walked, Nancy turned to Joanna. “Just how many people around here did you tell about the necklace, anyway?”

  Joanna shrugged. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “A lot, I guess. I mean, when you get something new, you just naturally want to tell people about it.”

  “But, Joanna, you’re not talking about a new pair of designer jeans!” Nancy said seriously. “That necklace is really expensive!” Of course, she thought, most of the people who belonged to the club also owned really expensive jewelry.

  Glancing around the lounge, Nancy saw Mike the lifeguard passing by, probably on a break. He stopped to chat with two men, and Nancy heard him wish one of them a good trip. Zach came back and got into a conversation with a man at the other end of the bar about the man’s latest big investment in the stock market. At a nearby table, three women were loudly discussing the trip one of them was about to make and the fact that her house would be closed up for a month.

  “Well?” Joanna asked eagerly. “What do you think? Do you have any ideas yet about who did it?”

  Nancy didn’t answer. She had just realized something. The lifeguard and the bartender had both known about Joanna’s necklace, not to mention Max Fletcher and the dozens of others at the club who had heard her talking about it. People there didn’t seem to think twice about telling everyone about the latest rare book or valuable painting they had just bought, where they kept it, and when they were leaving on a trip. Of course, Joanna hadn’t been out of town when the necklace was stolen, but she had been at the club every day. And plenty of people knew that.

  “I do have some ideas, Joanna,” Nancy said finally. “But I can’t talk about them yet. First, I’ve got to pay a visit to Detective Ryan.”

  • • •

  “Sorry, Ms. Drew.” Detective Ryan shook his head, not looking sorry at all. “I realize you want to help, but I told you before, this is my job. I’ll do it.”

  “But doesn’t it make sense?” Nancy asked. “Joanna’s necklace and that woman’s Picasso were both stolen, and they both spend a lot of time at the club. They—and everybody else there—talk all the time about what they’ve just bought and where they keep it. And,” she said, leaning forward in her chair, “they don’t bother to keep it a secret when they’re going away and leaving their houses empty. If I were a robber, I’d jump at the chance.”

  Nancy had hardly been excited about seeing Detective Ryan again, but the more she had thought about the possible country club connection, the more sense it made to her. And even though Detective Ryan didn’t want her help, she thought she ought to tell him her theory. As she had driven over to police headquarters, she kept her fingers crossed that he’d be interested. Instead, he was sitting with his blue eyes half-closed, as if he was about to fall asleep.

  “Of course,” Nancy said, “I still don’t have any idea who the robber or robbers are. It could be just about anyone who spends a lot of time at the club—”

  “Which really narrows it down, doesn’t it?” Detective Ryan said, breaking in sarcastically.

  “You know it doesn’t,” Nancy told him and then she smiled to soften what she had said. “What I’m trying to say is that I think it’s worth checking out.”

  “Ms. Drew, I’ve got only so many officers,” he said with a loud sigh. “Two for this case, to be exact. I’ve already had one of them out at the club, as a matter of fact, and he came up with zero. The other one’s tied up on another case right now. But when somebody gets a free minute, I’ll send them back out there. Will that make you happy?”

  “I guess it’ll have to,” Nancy said. “I’m just trying to help, that’s all. I don’t understand why you don’t want me to.”

  “This is a matter for the police, that’s why.” Detective Ryan stood up, his eyes wide open now.

  “I know that, Detective Ryan. Except that the police usually appreciate my efforts.”

  “They do. I’ve asked around about you. It seems you have a remarkable talent for solving crimes. But this is my case,” he said in a tight, angry voice. “And last night, I told you to stay off it, Ms. Drew. I’m saying it again now. And it had better be the last time I have to tell you. Because if it isn’t—”

  At that moment, his phone rang, and Detective Ryan grabbed it. “What?” he bellowed. His expression changed from anger to surprise and back to anger. He scribbled something on a notepad, said, “I’m on my way,” and slammed down the phone.

  “Another robbery,” he said to Nancy as he strode toward the door. “I suggest you go back to your amateur detecting and let me handle the real thing.” Before Nancy had a chance to react to his latest insult, he was gone.

  “Oh, what’s the use?” she said to the empty office. “It would just make him madder if I told him about my cases, and I don’t need that.”

  Then she noticed that he had left his notepad behind, and she couldn’t resist taking a look at it. When she did, she realized that Detective Ryan
could warn her off the case until he was blue in the face, but it wouldn’t do any good. On the pad he’d written the name Fairchild. Under that was an address, and under that were the words “rare book.”

  Victim number three in the country club robberies had just been nailed!

  Chapter

  Four

  I STILL CAN’T believe you’re actually going behind that detective’s back, Nan,” Bess said as she and George climbed into Nancy’s car the next day. “I mean, I’m perfectly willing to help, especially since it means spending time at the club, but what if he finds out?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said, pulling away from the curb. “Right now, I’m more interested in learning what’s going on. I guess I’ll just deal with Detective Ryan when and if I have to.”

  The day before, after she found out about Mr. Fairchild’s stolen rare book, Nancy had done a little more snooping around in Detective Ryan’s office. She’d discovered that there had been two other robberies besides the ones she knew about. And every one of the victims belonged to the River Heights Country Club.

  A few minutes later, Nancy pulled her car into Ned’s driveway. Ned gave Nancy a quick kiss after hopping into the front seat with her.

  “Oh, Ned, would you mind taking your car? We might need two cars later.”

  “Okay with me. See you there,” he said, pushing down on the door handle. Turning back and leaning into the open window, he asked, “Oh, by the way, what’s my assignment, Detective?”

  Nancy laughed. “We all have the same assignment,” she said. “To listen. Listen for anyone asking questions about other people’s vacations. Listen for anyone asking a lot of questions about anyone’s new possessions. I don’t know if it’s a club employee or a member, but I’m convinced there’s a connection between that place and the robberies.”

  “It makes sense to me,” George said. “I don’t understand why Detective Ryan’s being so pigheaded about it.”