010 Buried Secrets (3 page)

“It seems to this reporter,” Brenda had written, “that our famous local detective, Nancy Drew, should want to sink her teeth into a mystery that has remained unsolved in River Heights for the past thirty years—the death of John Harrington.

“But maybe our detective finds a mystery in her own hometown too boring. Maybe she’s afraid she won’t be able to solve what happened to John Harrington. Or maybe she’s losing her touch.

“Is that true, Nancy Drew? This reporter hopes not, because she has decided to solve the mystery herself. And this reporter is challenging you to an
‘investigative duel.’ Do you accept, Nancy Drew? Or
have
you lost your touch?”

When Nancy finished reading, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. She knew she wasn’t losing her touch! But a “duel”? Nancy didn’t want to get into that with Brenda.

Of course, the Harrington case
was
very interesting. It would be a challenge to try to find out exactly what had happened.

Nancy was still trying to decide what to do when the phone rang again. That time it was Ned.

“Hi,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t call you last night. I wanted to, but I got tied up with my family.”

“That’s okay,” Nancy told him. At least he wanted to, she thought.

“I see you made the front page,” Ned said. “And the editorial page, too.”

“So you saw Brenda’s challenge.”

“She’s got nerve, you have to give her that,” Ned commented. “You
are
accepting, aren’t you?”

Nancy wasn’t sure whether Ned would like it, but she knew she couldn’t resist. “I think I will,” she said. “Brenda couldn’t solve a mystery if she was handed all the clues. And besides,” she added, “you know I love a good mystery.”

“I remember,” he said.

Nancy still wasn’t sure whether he was happy about it, but what he said next made her happy.

“Just be careful,” Ned told her softly. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I’ll call later when I know what my plans are. Okay?”

Still smiling, Nancy hung up. “Looks as though I’m on a new case, Hannah.”

“Oh?” Hannah turned, holding two glasses in each hand. “Where will you be traveling to this time?”

“Nowhere,” Nancy said, pointing to the newspaper. “The death of John Harrington is a homegrown, River Heights mystery.”

Suddenly a glass slipped from Hannah’s fingers, splintering on the hard tiled floor. But Hannah ignored the shards of glass at her feet. Her face white, her eyes wide, she stared at Nancy and shook her head.

“Stay away from that case!” she said in a shaky voice. “I beg you, Nancy, don’t have anything to do with it!”

H
ANNAH
!” N
ANCY CRIED
. “What’s wrong? Why should I stay away from the case?”

“I—I just mean that it’s such an old case,” Hannah stammered. “And it
was
solved, years ago.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Nancy said. “But even if it turns out that he had just fallen, why don’t you want me to get involved?”

Hannah reached for the dustpan and brush, and began to clean up the broken glass. “Oh, never mind me,” she told Nancy. “I suppose I was just shocked to hear John Harrington mentioned again. After all, it was quite a big story back then.”

“But, Hannah, you begged me not to get involved!” Nancy protested.

“Well, you know me. I always worry about you,” Hannah said with a laugh. “Now let me get on with my chores, Nancy.”

Nancy started to protest again, but then she changed her mind and headed for the bathroom to shower. Hannah obviously didn’t want to talk anymore, and Nancy knew it was useless to try—right then.

• • •

“Well, well.” Brenda Carlton stood up behind her desk at her father’s newspaper office and smirked at Nancy. “Look who’s here.”

Two hours had passed, and Nancy decided to stop by the
Today’s Times
office to let Brenda know she was going to accept the challenge.

“Don’t tell me you let ‘this reporter’s opinion’ bother you,” Brenda continued.

“Of course not,” Nancy said, trying to sound casual. “I’m a sucker for a challenge, you know that.”

Brenda looked surprised. “You mean you’re accepting?”

“Sure, why not?” Nancy sat on the edge of the desk and grinned. “What’s the matter, Brenda? Are you scared you’ll lose?”

“Don’t be silly.” Brenda tossed her hair back
and tried to smile. “After all, I already know ten times more about the story than you do.”

“That won’t last long,” Nancy said. “Just give me a day to read the police files and the microfilms of the back issues of the newspapers, and we’ll be even.”

“Microfilms of back issues? Gosh, Nancy, I don’t know about that,” Brenda said. “I mean, we’re not on the same team. Just because I work here doesn’t mean I should make it easy for you by letting you look at all those old newspaper films.”

“Oh, yes, it does.” Nancy leaned closer to Brenda. “Because if you don’t, I’ll write a letter to the editor, and then I’ll go to the public library to read them.”

Brenda knew she didn’t have any choice. “Well, all right.” She pouted. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m already miles ahead of you.”

“Good for you. But be careful not to stop and look over your shoulder,” Nancy warned her. “That’s how you
lose
races.”

Without another word, Brenda grudgingly directed Nancy to the
Times’s
morgue, which was where all the microfilms of past issues were stored. With a little help, Nancy found all the films she needed and learned how to use the microfilm reader. She sat down at a long wooden table and
started to read everything she could find about John Harrington.

An hour later she had learned some very interesting things. Todd had been born four months after his father’s death; his mother had died giving birth to him. He’d been brought up by his paternal grandmother in another town. He’d lived in Harrington House for only his first month—the house had been closed up ever since then—but he’d inherited the house at the age of twenty-one.

No wonder he doesn’t want all that stuff about his father dragged into the open again, Nancy thought. He will probably move back here someday, and he wouldn’t want a big deal made out of his father’s past.

She also learned that Sam Abbott, now the mayor of River Heights, had been John Harrington’s personal secretary. He’d been with Harrington the night he was killed. But Abbott had never been suspected of anything, because the Harrington’s chauffeur, Charles Ogden, said he’d spoken to John Harrington after Abbott had left the mansion.

Nancy made a note to speak to Mayor Abbott and to Charles Ogden, if he was still in River Heights. But the person she wanted to talk to most was Neil Gray, John Harrington’s opponent
in the race for governor. Neil Gray had had an appointment with John Harrington the night Harrington died. He claimed he’d never seen Harrington—that when he got to the mansion, Sam Abbott had met him and told him the meeting was postponed.

What made Nancy really want to talk to Neil Gray was something the newspaper said—that, according to Gray, the Harringtons had used every dirty trick in the book to ruin his name and campaign.

“They said I dropped out of college,” he was quoted as saying. “But they didn’t bother to add that I dropped out because I needed money to finish. And I did finish, fourth in my class.

“They said I was fired from the first law firm I worked for. What they didn’t say was that the firm was dissolved. Nobody was fired—there just wasn’t any firm to work for anymore.

“They accused me of accepting campaign money from criminals. That’s true. One of the people who gave me money had two parking tickets.”

Neil Gray had more stories to tell, and each one was worse than the last. He was an angry man, and if what he said was true, Nancy figured he had every right to be. But had he been angry enough to kill John Harrington?

Nancy glanced at her watch. It was twelve o’clock. With only half a glass of orange juice in her stomach, she was starving. But she decided to go to the police station before she ate because she wanted to read the files on the case to see if the police had been as suspicious of Neil Gray as she was.

Downtown River Heights was crowded with workers out for a quick meal or a stroll in the spring sunshine. Nancy was almost at the police station when the smell of hot dogs from an outdoor stand made her stop. Her stomach rumbled, and she couldn’t ignore her hunger any longer. As she walked up to the hot dog stand, she saw she had an even better reason to stop—Ned was there.

Her heart pounding eagerly, Nancy sneaked up behind Ned. “I can’t believe it,” she said teasingly, “you still eat them with sauerkraut.”

“Nancy!” Ned looked surprised and happy. “This is great. Tell you what—I’ll buy your hot dog if you’ll eat it with me in the park.”

Nancy wanted to go, but she knew that if she did, she and Ned would hang out in the park for a while. “I’ll make you another deal,” she said. “You walk with me to the police station, and I’ll buy my own hot dog.”

“The police station?” Ned frowned. “You’re on the case already?”

“Why not?” Nancy asked. “The faster I get on it, the faster I’ll finish it.” There, she thought, that ought to make him happy.

“I guess you’re right,” Ned agreed. “I just wish you had some free time. I’m going back to school in a few days.”

Nancy’s hot dog stopped halfway to her mouth. “Ned, I told you I was accepting Brenda’s challenge and you didn’t say anything! Now you’re complaining. I don’t get it.”

“I’m not complaining,” Ned protested. “I just want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”

“Well, why haven’t you asked?”

“I was going to this morning, but you said you were accepting Brenda’s challenge. And I didn’t want to get in your way.”

“Well, we’re together now. Will you walk me to the police station?” Nancy smiled and took his hand. “Come on. We’ll walk very slowly.”

“Somehow I think I got the short end of this deal,” Ned commented, but he did squeeze her hand. “Okay, you win. Let’s go to the police station.”

They did walk slowly, but the police offices were only a block and a half away, and it was hard to make the walk last more than five minutes. When they said goodbye, Nancy could tell Ned was disappointed. He’s not the only one, she thought.

The mayor’s office was right next door to the police station, and on the spur of the moment Nancy decided to go there first. As she entered the reception area, she could see the mayor in his office having what looked like a heated conversation with a tall, skinny man. The man’s back was to her, and Nancy couldn’t hear what he’d just said, but obviously it upset the mayor. Mayor Abbott’s face turned red and he walked over and slammed the door of his office shut.

Politics, Nancy thought, and walked over to the secretary’s desk. “Hi,” she said, and gave her name. “I’d like to make an appointment to see Mayor Abbott.”

The secretary peered over her glasses. “About what, dear?”

“About John Harrington’s death,” Nancy told her. “I’m investigating what happened that night, and I need to speak to everyone who was involved.”

“Oh, dear, I don’t know. Oh, well, the mayor will see anyone who asks. So I suppose I have to give you an appointment.” The secretary sighed and flipped through her appointment book. The mayor had fifteen minutes of free time at the very end of the next day, and even though she still didn’t look happy about it, the secretary made the appointment for Nancy.

Nancy thanked her and headed for the police station. Since she’d worked with a lot of the officers, she didn’t have any trouble getting permission to look at their computerized files. But the files left her with more questions than answers.

Charles Ogden, the Harringtons’ chauffeur, had left River Heights shortly after John Harrington’s death, and there was no record of where he had gone. And even though Neil Gray had been a strong suspect, the police hadn’t been able to pin anything on him. There was no address listed for him, either.

Nancy was disappointed—he had been her prime suspect. Then, just as she was about to shut off the computer, she noticed something. Two of Gray’s campaign workers had been Gerald and Joyce Nickerson—Ned’s parents.

Good, Nancy thought. I’ll talk to Ned’s parents, and I’ll make sure to do it while Ned’s home—at least we’ll be together. She shut off the computer, and went to a pay phone in the hall. No one was home at the Nickersons’.

What now? So far, she had hundreds of questions and no answers. Then Nancy remembered Harrington House. Of course, she thought. The best place to start an investigation was at the scene of the crime.

• • •

A few minutes later Nancy’s Mustang was smoothly climbing up the narrow winding road to the Harrington mansion. As Nancy drove, she kept catching glimpses of the massive house. Built of stone, it was three stories high and looked as long as a city block. At one end was a tower. Nancy knew it overlooked the cliffs leading down to the river. The circular tower room had two small windows facing the river; one of them was the window from which John Harrington had to have jumped or fallen. Catching another glimpse of the tower and one window, Nancy shook her head. It just wasn’t possible to fall out of a window like that.