Carolyn Keene - Stay Tuned For Danger

Nancy lifted the collar of her mauve jacket and fastened a rhinestone pin to the lapel. “There’s just so little time left and so many unanswered questions.”

Suddenly the door buzzer rang. “Come on, Nancy. That’s the signal. Your aunt and the cab are waiting!” Bess cried. “Be right down!” she called into the intercom.

At the restaurant the girls were seated by a lovely young hostess, who looked more like a model than a restaurant employee.

“Pierre will be your waiter,” she told them.

Just then, a young man with twinkling eyes and a handlebar mustache approached the table.

“ Bonsoir. Je m’appelle Pierre . Here I haf ze menu,” he said in a thick French accent. Bess couldn’t help giggling as he handed the menus around the table, giving each of them a seductive look. “I can tell zees table will be my favorite of ze night.”

“I didn’t know this place served French food,” Eloise mused out loud, watching him go.

“It doesn’t,” Bess remarked in surprise as she looked over the menu. “A French waiter at an American restaurant. That’s weird.”

“Not for New York it’s not,” Nancy’s aunt replied.

Nancy’s eyes followed the waiter to the bar, where he put in an order for some other customers. “Hey, Steve,” he yelled in a regular voice, “give me three mineral waters and a Coke.”

Nancy looked up when the waiter returned to the table to take their order. “ Garçon —avez vous un stylo noir, peut-etre? ”

“Huh?” he asked, confused. “Want to run that by me again, lady?”

“You’re not French?” Bess exclaimed.

“ Mais non, mademoiselle ,” the waiter admitted with a shy smile. “I mean, nope. Never even seen the place.”

“I’ll bet I know what’s going on,” Eloise ventured. “You’re an actor, aren’t you?”

The waiter looked at Eloise for a second and then laughed. “Okay, okay. I confess. I’m guilty. I am an actor, but please don’t be mad.”

With that, he tugged on the end of his mustache and pulled it off. “I have an audition for the part of a French waiter tomorrow, so I thought I’d get in a little practice tonight. Now, ladies, what can I get you?” He proceeded to take their orders and then left.

“Does that happen a lot around here?” Bess asked.

Eloise smiled and shook her head no. “But many of the waiters in New York are actors, Bess. And a lot of the delivery people, word processors, dog walkers . . . They do many different kinds of work just to survive between acting jobs.”

Bess was sobered by the thought that an acting career could be so difficult. But Eloise’s words also had a great impact on Nancy.

“Playing different roles,” she murmured softly to herself. Suddenly a big piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. That’s how the culprit does it, she told herself. Hadn’t she herself gone anywhere on the set completely unnoticed in her nurse’s uniform? No one had even looked at her twice. Of course! How could she have missed it?

“And when the director called ‘action’ I was supposed to be sorting these papers at the front desk,” Bess was telling Eloise. “And Mattie walks right up to me and says, ‘Excuse me. Did Rory Danner leave a message for me?’ And I nod and I hand her an envelope. We must have done the scene six times, right, Nancy?” Bess didn’t wait for an answer. She just went on, filling Eloise in on every little detail of her big day on “Danner’s Dream.” Nancy ate her dinner in silence, trying to put the final pieces of the puzzle together.

“I’m stuffed,” Bess said as they climbed the stairs to Nancy’s aunt’s apartment. “That dessert was too much.”

“After you girls leave, I’m going to have to go on a diet,” Eloise said, reaching into her bag for the keys.

Just then, through the door they heard the phone ring. “Don’t worry—the machine will get it,” Eloise said, letting them in and flicking the lights on.

“Hello,” came Eloise’s recorded voice on the answering machine. “I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message at the sound of the beep, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“This message is for Nancy Drew.” A shiver ran down Nancy’s spine. It was the voice of Lillian Weiss. “It’s Lillian, Nancy. There’s something I have to tell you. It’s a matter of life and death. Meet me on the set tomorrow morning at six o’clock, before rehearsal. I’ll leave a pass for you.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Nancy, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” The color drained from Eloise’s face, and she sat down on the sofa. “You told me yourself that you thought this woman might be the killer. I can’t allow you to put your life in danger that way, even to save someone else’s. You’re my niece, and you’re the only child my brother has. Think how he would feel if something happened to you!”

Nancy sat down beside her aunt and took her hand. “Aunt Eloise,” she said calmly, “ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been trying to solve mysteries. I can’t quit now! It’s my life, Aunt Eloise. It’s what I do best. Don’t ask me to give it up now, please.”

Tears in her eyes, Eloise hugged her niece fiercely. “I’ll be biting my nails the whole time, you know that?” she said with a resigned laugh. “But why do you have to meet at the studio?”

“Oh, you know how dramatic soap people are. Just a little added mystery. Now, come on, there’s nothing to worry about,” Nancy countered with a smile. “And besides, I know quite a lot of karate, remember? All those lessons ought to be good for something.”

When she got to Worldwide Broadcasting, Nancy picked up her pass at the security desk, then slipped into the main corridor. Every muscle in her body was tensed. There was something wrong about all this—she knew it the moment she had heard Lillian’s voice. But something drove her on, step by step, toward the studio.

As she turned down a corridor, she saw someone and ducked back around the corner. It was the janitor, mopping the floors. Not wanting to run into anyone, she went back around, taking the long way to the studio in order to avoid him.

Finally, she reached the vacuum-sealed door and pushed her way in. The set was dimly lit, but Nancy’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. At first it seemed to be deserted, but then Nancy saw her.

Lillian was sitting oh a chair on the set of the Danner kitchen, holding her head in her hands. As Nancy approached, she turned around.

“Our fair rescuer,” she said, under her breath. “How kind of you to come.” The words were full of, bravado, but the old self-assured Lillian was gone. The mocking look had disappeared, and Lillian’s face was now fearful.

“Why did you ask me to come here?” Nancy demanded. “What’s all this about?”

“Oh, I’m not the maniac, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I asked you here because—” Lillian’s voice wavered. “Because he’s after me now.”

Nancy crossed the room and sat down next to Lillian. Then she listened intently to every word of her story.

“When things started turning weird around here, I got curious. Actually, I was kind of hoping Rick would get what he deserved, if you get my meaning. But then I found something. It was that day I ran into you in the hall. I had just found it in a closet. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it, so I hid it where no one would come across it.”

“The prop room, of course!” Nancy’s eyes lit up. So that was why Lillian had acted so secretively that day!

“Right. And this little item I found made me want to find out more. So I did. I kept on finding more and more, until—” Lillian’s voice was barely a whisper. “Until I got this yesterday.” She handed Nancy a typewritten note. “Were you thinking of blackmail, my pet?” it read. “Not if I kill you first.”