Carolyn Keene - Trial By Fire

Ned stopped at the deli and bought sandwiches for Nancy and himself. They gobbled them down on their way back.

As they turned onto McConnell, Nancy groaned. “Will you look at that? I thought Fleet’s was open around the clock! Now how can we check it out?”

Ned pulled up to the curb, and they climbed out, staying hidden behind the car so they could observe what was happening. Fleet’s Courier Service was dark and locked tight as a drum. But Gold Star’s garage appeared to be alive with activity. Nancy and Ned crept closer, using shadows for cover. Reston, Brownley, and a couple of drivers in white jackets with “Fleet’s” stenciled on the backs were busily jockeying taxis around inside, as if making room for something.

“Well, now we know where the couriers are. Those cabs are new,” Nancy whispered. “Maybe it’s part of the shipment Brownley was talking about.”

As they watched, a couple of cabs were driven next door to the car wash. As they drove through the bay doors, the lights went out. Anyone passing by would have thought the place was closed. “See?” Ned said.

“This is crazy,” Nancy said. “Those cabs looked perfectly clean.”

“Well, I warn you, this will go on for the next forty-five minutes. There’s nothing more we can do tonight. We’ll have to try tomorrow night, okay?”

Nancy hated to give up. She’d been primed to search for the route to the basement, but what Ned said made sense. They’d be risking discovery if they tried it with all those people around.

“Okay. Tomorrow night,” she said. “I guess it’s just as well.” Suddenly she was very tired.

Ned drove her around to her car. They spent a leisurely few minutes saying good night, and then they each drove home.

Nancy went in the back door as usual, but didn’t turn on the light in the kitchen. Her goal was bed, so she checked the lock, then walked straight through the darkened kitchen and up the stairs. That was why she didn’t see her father’s note on the refrigerator until the next morning.

It was the worst news she could have gotten. Carson Drew’s pretrial hearing had been moved up. It was now scheduled for that very afternoon!

“Can they do that, Dad?” Nancy asked, horrified. She’d just come down for breakfast and read the note.

“I’m surprised that they moved it up,” he admitted. “But it’s not that unusual. I take it you haven’t found anything to use to clear me?”

“We’ve found out a lot of things, and there aren’t as many holes in the jigsaw puzzle as there were when we started.” She told him about the discovery she had made the night before, thanks to the contents of Reston’s trunk.

“But the most important piece is missing-how they framed you. I have an idea, but I need to get the proof.”

Carson got up from the table. “All right. Keep at it, and please don’t worry. Pretrial isn’t the end of the world.”

“Honest, Dad?” Nancy asked. She felt desolate at having let him down.

“Honest. Oh, by the way, I brought my associates up to date last night on what you’re doing.”

“You didn’t tell them about my working at Gold Star, did you?”

“Yes. If they’re going to defend me, they’re entitled to know how the investigation is going. Will you be in court today?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Her father managed a tight smile. “I can use the support. Courtroom C at two o’clock. And Leonard runs a tight court. He starts on time. I’m off. See you at two.”

Nancy hurried up the stairs. She glanced through the notes she had made about the case and tossed them into a large tote bag. If she got lucky and found the answers she needed before two o’clock, she’d be prepared.

Suddenly the obvious answer to one of her problems hit her. “Of course! Mr. Tyler!” she said out loud.

She looked up his number and dialed it. “Mr. Tyler, this is Nancy Drew. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t think to ask you this yesterday. Is there another way to get down to the lower level of the garage?”

“Hmmm. Besides the ramp they closed off?”

“Yes.”

“Let me think.” There was a long pause. Nancy had to force herself not to tell him to hurry. She closed her eyes and waited.

“Well, there may be. It’s been a long time, so I’m not sure.”

“Tell me anyway,” Nancy said, prompting him.

“When the parking garage first opened, there were attendants who took your car and parked it for you. They used a conveyor elevator to get up and down to the different levels.”

“A conveyor elevator?”

“It’s like one long, moving ladder. All it would have is platforms big enough for your feet, and handholds. If you hop on it from one side, it would take you up-”

“And on the other side, you’d go down,” Nancy interrupted excitedly. “But they don’t use parking attendants anymore. Would the electricity still be on?”

“I doubt it. But if the conveyor’s still there-if they didn’t dismantle it, I mean-it would be stationary. You might be able to climb down it.”

“It’s worth a try,” Nancy said. “Mr. Tyler, thank you so much.”

She hung up immediately and called Ned. The line was busy, so she dialed Bess. “Oh, it’s you,” her friend said. She didn’t sound very happy to hear from Nancy.

“Listen, Bess,” Nancy said hurriedly. “They’ve moved my dad’s pretrial hearing to today-”

“What?”

“Two o’clock this afternoon. Will you let Ann know and get her there on time? He’s going to need a cheering section, and I know she’ll want to be there.”

“She’s not at home,” Bess said. “I figured you’d know where she was, since you two have gotten so tight.”

“Huh?” Nancy said.

“Well, you obviously didn’t want me along last night. I know she’s bright and fun and all, but we’ve known each other-”

Fear pierced Nancy. “Bess, what do you mean I didn’t want you along last night?”

“Well, what else could I think? Your message was as plain as day.”

Nancy gritted her teeth. “What message, Bess?”

“You didn’t leave a message for Ann last night?”

“What message, Bess?”

Sudden panic made her friend’s voice squeaky. “Ann said you’d left a message at the Morning Record that you wanted her to wait for you in the newspaper parking lot at eleven last night. You wanted her to come alone, and you’d pick her up in your cab.”

Nancy shivered, chilled to the bone. “They’re on to me,” she said. “They know I drive a cab. Somehow I blew my cover.”

“Oh, no!” Bess said.

“That’s not the worst. Reston was showing my dispatcher something in the back seat of a cab last night. And he said something about ‘after Granger talks.’ It must have been Ann in the cab!”

“Nancy, call the police!”

“I don’t have any proof! I didn’t actually see her. They aren’t going to raid what they think is a reputable business on my say-so.”

“What can we do?”

“Meet me at the parking garage, Bennett Street entrance, in half an hour. Reston drove the cab down to the basement. She may still be there.”

“I’m on my way,” Bess said and hung up.

Ned’s line was still busy. Desperate, Nancy asked an operator to break in. “This is an emergency!” she cried.

The operator must have heard the panic in her voice, because she gave her no argument.

After an interminable wait, the operator came on again. “Sorry. There is no one on the line. It must be out of order. I’ll report it.”

It’s off the hook, Nancy thought. Well, there was nothing she could do about it. It was time to go. With or without Ned, she would have to get into that basement in broad daylight.