Murder On Ice (11 page)

Nancy ran rapidly through the tables of contents in the magazines. All covered the Olympics, and she put several aside to study later. Then she came to an issue of a skiing magazine with an article titled “Scandal on the Slopes.” Nancy began reading feverishly.

On the last night of the tryouts, the American bronze runner-up, Jon Berntsen, challenged a young German Olympic hopeful, Dieter Mueller, to a dangerous night race. It was a grudge match, fueled by an intense personal antipathy . . .

Nancy's heart leaped when she saw Dieter Mueller's name. But who was Jon Berntsen?

Suddenly the librarian was standing right beside Nancy. Nancy flushed and closed the magazine quickly. She'd been caught reading when
she should have just photocopied the story and left. “Here's another article,” the librarian was saying. “If you're going to copy anything, please do it fast.”

“Thanks. And could you please reserve these for me? My name's Nancy Drew.” Nancy hurried over to the photocopying machine. As she copied the scandal article, her eyes scanned the other periodical the librarian had produced. It, too, dealt with the Mueller accident.

 . . . both lost—Dieter Mueller, his life, in a fatal fall, and Jon Berntsen, the chance to become an Olympic winner. Berntsen's crash left him with leg injuries and a concussion. When he came to, Berntsen claimed to have amnesia, and no memory of anything just prior to the race.

However, sympathy for the young athlete quickly turned to suspicion when Mueller's bindings showed evidence of tampering. Berntsen disappeared before he could be charged, which has been generally regarded as proof of his guilt. Mueller's cousin, Gerhardt Mueller, also a member of the German ski team, vowed to make Berntsen pay for what he had done.

The librarian was putting on her coat and she looked impatient. “I'm ready to leave,” she called.

Quickly Nancy copied the second article. As
she picked up the copies, she noticed a photograph of the American ski team.

Berntsen.
The name leaped out at her from the caption. Third from left, last row. Nancy looked intently, and her heart turned over. It was a picture of Luke Ericsen!

N
ANCY DIDN'T HAVE
time to study either the original magazine picture or the copy she'd made of it. The librarian was at her elbow, visibly annoyed. “Young lady, please. We must close now!”

“I'm coming!” Nancy said hastily. She thrust the photocopies inside her jacket and hurried to the door. “I'm really sorry to have kept you, but it
was
important.”

The librarian sighed. “It's all right, but now I hope you'll get back to your hotel as fast as you can.
Tourists
/” she added under her breath as Nancy passed her.

The wind was howling and whipping the snow into the air. Stores and businesses were closed in anticipation of the storm as Nancy skied through the center of town, her mind whirling.

According to Michael, Luke had loaned Mueller some defective ski equipment, which had caused the accident. But the magazine article said something completely different, that Luke—or Jon Berntsen—had challenged Mueller to a dangerous nighttime race which had resulted in his death.

Why had Michael changed the story? And why hadn't he called Luke by his real name? Was he trying to help Luke keep his awful secret? He certainly didn't act as if he wanted to do him any favors.

But even with her new information, one thing didn't change. Luke most likely was still guilty of manslaughter, if not murder! Could he have heard Bess mentioning that Nancy was a detective? That would explain those “accidents”—he'd be trying to get rid of Nancy and Ned so they wouldn't find out about his past.

But what about the letters in the snow? They made no sense. Unless . . . Nancy caught her breath. One of the articles had mentioned Dieter Mueller's vengeful cousin. Maybe
he
was after Luke (or Jon Berntsen). Maybe
he
was responsible for everything that had been going on at Webb Cove.

Nancy thought hard. Who around Webb Cove could be Mueller's relative? Michael? He was involved in the case somehow, and he certainly didn't like Luke. But he wasn't German.

Wait a minute
, Nancy told herself sharply.
Gunther
is German. And he was at the lodge
when the prowler episodes began. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for him to sneak out of the lodge at night and leave the message in the snow or damage the rope tow and the skis.

Nancy's jumbled thoughts began to take shape. Gunther had plenty of skiing know-how, from his experience on the German alpine rescue team. And he'd been cozying up to Bess since the very beginning, possibly to keep Nancy from suspecting him. He'd definitely put himself in a position where he found out much of what Nancy did or discovered. Nancy hadn't been very candid with Gunther, but Bess undoubtedly had.

Oh, great! Nancy thought, aghast. Either way, one of my best friends ends up falling for a killer. The only saving grace is that if Gunther is a Mueller, he'd have no reason to attack anyone but Luke.

Unless someone else became a threat!

Nancy reached the edge of the town and began cutting through the fields. Her eyes scanned the snow carefully, watching for obstacles. At the same time, her mind clicked along like a computer.

Luke as the target of a killer made more sense than Luke as a killer himself. Unfortunately, the killer was very reckless, and didn't care who else got caught in the traps he set.

The thought that Ned could have met Dieter Mueller's fate sent a shudder through Nancy. She
stopped and leaned against a tree for a minute before going on. She was very conscious of how alone and unprotected she was there in the woods, in semidarkness.

The snow was whirling wildly, but through it, Nancy could make out a crossroads not far ahead. She had reached the bottom of Webb Cove Road. The slope would be murder to climb. She glanced around. Suddenly, she caught sight of a figure in a red-and-blue ski jacket some distance behind her. Whoever it was apparently hadn't seen her yet.

Acting on instinct, Nancy pulled herself behind a large fir tree and crouched down. She waited, concealed by the woods and the snow, as the figure approached and passed. It was Luke, also on cross-country skis. When he was a few yards past her, she cautiously pulled herself upright and began to follow him.

Luke made no attempt to ski along the road. He was heading toward the lodge, but by a circuitous route, one that was easier than heading straight up the hill. Luke reached the crest of the last rise before the lodge and then disappeared behind the hill. Panting, Nancy reached the top a few moments later. She skied down the incline after Luke.

He was not heading for the lodge after all, she realized then, but toward the shed that housed Liz's electric generator. What's he up to? Nancy asked herself, frowning.

She decided on a bold move. Giving him just time enough to get inside but not, she hoped,
time to lock the door, she skied straight to the building.

She was in luck. The door was not locked, and she pushed it open. Luke was bent over the generator, and as he felt the rush of cold air he straightened quickly. “What are
you
doing here?” he demanded.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“I went to town to get parts for Liz's shortwave radio, if you must know,” Luke said coldly. “It's not working right, and we'll need it if the telephone lines go down. And since there's a major blizzard in progress, it did occur to me to check the generator to make sure it's working properly! What were
you
sneaking around the woods for?”

“I went to the library to get some books to read,” Nancy said primly.

Luke gave a harsh laugh. “Well, you can't read them here! Go back to the lodge and curl up by the fire with your boyfriend. You'll get yourself in a lot less trouble that way!” He waited pointedly for her to leave, then followed, locking the shed door behind them. “And don't come back here.”

Luke didn't accompany her in the direction of the lodge, but took off as soon as he had snapped on his skis. He went by a path Nancy had not noticed before. After giving him a few moments' head start, Nancy followed.

She kept her eyes glued to Luke. Where was he going in the middle of the storm, anyway? Nancy couldn't tell where the path was leading. But she did see something else.

Barely visible in the thickening blizzard was a rope strung across the trail at neck height. Anyone skiing quickly down that path would be caught right across the throat. Nancy watched in horror as Luke headed toward it. He was skiing swiftly into a death trap!

L
OOK OUT
!” Nancy screamed.
“Luke!”

Luke reacted an instant too late. He carved a tight turn and tried to brake, but the rope caught him squarely across the forehead and he was thrown to the ground. At least he wasn't badly hurt. Immediately, he pulled himself up to a sitting position and groaned, rubbing his head.

“Are you all right?” Nancy called, skiing over and kneeling beside him. He nodded vaguely.

“Don't try to talk.” Nancy pulled off his cap. She noticed that it was actually a blue-and-white ski mask with the lower part rolled into a cuff. “If you'd kept this pulled down over your face, you'd have made out better,” Nancy said, looking at the broad rope burn Luke had received above the eyebrows.

“What hit me, anyway?” Luke muttered.

“There's a rope strung across the path. If you hadn't ducked, it would have caught you right across the throat.” Nancy squinted down the path. “Where does this trail lead, anyway?”

“To Liz's storage shed. I needed to get some storm supplies.”

“Who knew you were coming here?” Nancy demanded.

“I don't know. Nobody. Anybody.” Luke pulled himself to his feet. “Liz and I are the only ones who use this trail.”

“Luke, who's trying to harm you?” Nancy asked gently. “Please tell me. I can help.”

Luke turned and looked straight at her, his face deeply troubled. “There's only one way you can help. Clear out! All of you! Before the blizzard shuts you in!”

“All
of us? Including George?”

“Especially George! She's terrific, and I don't want her getting hurt!” Abruptly, Luke turned and pushed off into the woods.

Nancy headed for the lodge, thinking hard. Now I know where Luke fits in—as prospective victim. And he knows who's trying to kill him, she decided, but he's been trying to keep me from finding out because then he'd have to tell me the whole story. Luke doesn't want anyone to know he's Berntsen, because Dieter Mueller's suspicious death is still hanging over his head!

That was the only logical explanation for the way Luke had been acting—and the way George
had been acting, too. George must have recognized Luke as Jon Berntsen from all the Olympic coverage she'd watched on TV! It was just like George to protect and defend him, if she believed he'd been accused unjustly of Dieter Mueller's death.

But someone else at Webb Cove didn't believe that accusation was unjust. That person could be Dieter Mueller's good friend, Michael Price. Or he could be a relative of Dieter Mueller—Gunther?

When Nancy reached the lodge she leaned her skis against the porch wall and hurried into the lounge without even taking off her jacket. Everything in the lodge seemed incongruously calm. A fire burned as always, Ned and George were playing Monopoly, and Gunther and Bess were snuggling by the fire. They all turned and looked at Nancy as she entered.

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Nancy!” Bess said, giggling at her snow-covered friend. “In fact, you look like a ghost yourself!”

“We almost
did
have a ghost,” Nancy said bluntly. “Luke almost got killed.”