Shadow of a Doubt (6 page)

Carson shook his head. “The only person who knows enough about the trial is Gleason's
former lawyer, Edward Vaughn. But I don't see why he would have—”

“Why not?” Nancy asked excitedly. “What if Gleason had gone back to him, claiming to have evidence to prove that he was innocent?”

“What sort of evidence?” Carson asked curiously.

“I don't know.” Nancy then explained what Chris and Kate Gleason had told her. “So maybe Gleason really had come up with something that showed Allard was guilty in the first place,” she concluded. “Would that be enough for Gleason's lawyer—what's his name, Vaughn?”

Carson nodded.

Nancy went on. “Would Vaughn go to the district attorney with the information?”

Carson narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment. “It's possible,” he said. “But only if he had real proof. He wouldn't risk his career for less.”

Nancy pointed to the article. “But from what this says, the DA's only
threatening
to reopen the case. All I read is ‘alleged' and ‘looking into the possibility.' It looks like this reporter's basing his story on some kind of leak.”

“You're right, Nancy.” Carson sighed, reading the story again. “There's nothing here that says he's got proof.”

“That means there's a chance we can fight this!” Nancy said emphatically.

“Listen to me, Nancy,” Carson said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “There's nothing you can do.”

Nancy tried to interrupt. “But, Dad—”

Her father stopped her. “Please. We're going to have to wait and see what happens. And I'd better not find out that you've gotten any more involved than you already are. This is one case you shouldn't even think of solving. Do you understand?”

Nancy gave up. “Sure, I understand.” It hurt her a bit that her father didn't think she could help, but she knew how stubborn he could be.

“Thanks, Nancy,” Carson said with a sad smile. “I know how hard this must be for you.”

“Not any harder than it is for you,” Nancy answered wearily, picking up the date book and carrying it upstairs.

• • •

The next morning Nancy stood in a plush reception room, waiting to see Edward Vaughn. All night she had thought about what her father had said. Normally, she would have followed his advice. Then she decided that if she managed to help her father, he'd have no choice but to forgive her for not listening to him.

“Mr. Vaughn's secretary says you should make an appointment and come back,”
the receptionist said, interrupting Nancy's thoughts.

“Did you tell him it's important?” she asked.

The receptionist eyed Nancy. Obviously she didn't appreciate a teenager telling her how to do her job.

“Of course I told him, Ms. Drew, but he's a very busy man. Now I have to get back to work.” At least five lights were blinking on the phone console. “Good morning, Stein and Daly, please hold. Good morning, Stein and Daly, please hold.”

Nancy saw her chance to slip past the receptionist and down the firm's bustling corridor. Vaughn didn't want to see her, but she had to talk to him, and she was going to find a way to do it.

She asked the first person she saw to direct her to Vaughn's office. Following the instructions, Nancy made a left at the first corner and saw Vaughn's nameplate on the second door on her right.

Through the open office door, she caught a glimpse of Vaughn. He was busy talking on the phone and taking notes on a large yellow legal pad.

“Can I help you?” Nancy turned to see a thin, blond-haired woman dressed in a gray suit stand up from her desk.

“Um, yes,” Nancy answered. “Could you
see if Mr. Vaughn can take a minute to talk to me?” She waited while the woman, who was not much older than she, looked her up and down. She was clearly a pro, despite her age, at screening visitors.

“The receptionist must have told you that Mr. Vaughn is very busy,” the woman said in a cold voice.

“What's going on out here, Pam?” Edward Vaughn was standing in his doorway. Although he was short and kind of pudgy, Vaughn was an intimidating presence. “Who are you?” he asked, looking at Nancy.

“Mr. Vaughn, my name's Nancy Drew, and I'd like to talk to you.” Nancy tried to appear confident. She hoped her name would catch his attention. It did.

“Nancy Drew. Are you related to Carson Drew?” he asked.

“I'm his daughter,” Nancy admitted.

“Well,” Vaughn said, dragging the word out. He took his hands out of his pockets and reached out to shake Nancy's hand. “Pleased to meet you, Nancy Drew. Why don't you come in?”

That was easy, Nancy thought. But why is he being so nice to me all of a sudden? She followed him into his office, her guard up.

Vaughn motioned to a comfortable leather armchair. “Have a seat. Now what could have
made you want to come to see me?” He walked around his desk and sat down. Before Nancy could answer, he spoke again.

“Let me guess.” Vaughn leaned back in his chair and wove his hands together behind his head. “Could it have something to do with a case the district attorney's about to bring against your father?” His tone was arrogant. “You know, you shouldn't even be here. I doubt your father would approve.”

Nancy began to wonder if she might be out of her element. She realized in a flash that a conversation with a lawyer who was probably pressing charges against her own father could be a serious conflict of interest. But there was no going back now.

“He doesn't know I'm here,” she said. “And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell him. But it's not what you think. I'm not here to ask you about his case. Actually, I thought you might be able to give me some background information on Robert Gleason.”

“Robert Gleason. Now why do you want to know about him?” A frown crept over Vaughn's face.

“Did you know he committed suicide?” Nancy asked.

“Yes.” Vaughn moved forward in his chair and leaned his elbows on his desk. “His son called me yesterday. A real tragedy.”

“I think Gleason may have known something about his trial,” Nancy ventured, “something about evidence from that trial.” She paused, then plunged in. “I was wondering if you had any idea what that might be.”

“Nancy Drew.” Vaughn laughed. Then he took a puff from a cigar that lay in an ashtray on his desk. “You obviously don't know much about the law. As Gleason's lawyer I'm not allowed to tell you anything about that trial. Or about evidence that did or did not exist at that time or now.”

“But Gleason may have been killed because of it. Doesn't that mean anything to you?” Nancy sensed a note of desperation creeping into her voice. She tried to remain calm.

Vaughn looked at her intently. “Look, I can't tell you anything about the trial that you don't already know. If you've talked to your father about it, you know as much as there is to know.” He stood up. “I think you'd better go now.”

“Mr. Vaughn, please.” Nancy grabbed at a straw. “We both want the same thing.”

“How's that?”

“You've obviously been in touch with the Gleason kids,” she said quickly. “I can tell they're behind your wanting to bring the case up again, right?”

“And if they are?” Vaughn looked at Nancy seriously for the first time.

“Then we should work together, not separately. If there's evidence to prove that Gleason was innocent, I want to find it, too.” She had to make him understand. “It's the only way I can prove that my father didn't have anything to do with hiding something in the original trial.”

Vaughn stepped around his desk and closed his office door, which had been open the whole time they were talking. He turned to face Nancy.

“I'll do one thing for you, Ms. Drew. I'll arrange an appointment for you at Gleason's old firm. You can talk to Peter Nicodemus, the director of administration there. That's as far as I'll go, and don't ask me why I'm even doing that.”

Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. She had gotten somewhere, at least. She couldn't believe her luck. “Thank you. You don't know what a help this is,” she said.

“I don't know what you hope to find out there,” Vaughn said. “But I'm only doing this on one condition.”

“Which is?” Nancy asked.

“Whatever you find will have to become evidence for the DA's case against Carson Drew. You could be put up on the stand.” Vaughn gave her a hard look.

“The DA's case.” The words rang in Nancy's ears. Then she realized what Vaughn was saying.

He was telling her she could end up as a witness for the prosecution, testifying against her own father!

B
UT
—” N
ANCY SAID
. She was in shock.

Vaughn crossed the room and sat on the edge of his desk, facing Nancy.

“Let me explain. If you talk to Nicodemus, you could very well find evidence that furthers our case against your father,” he said.

“Except that you won't tell me what that case is,” Nancy said, regaining her composure.

“I can't. That would be a violation of ethics,” Vaughn concluded.

Nancy shook herself. “That's an unfair position to put me in,” she said weakly.

“That may be true. But now that you've
talked to me, we have the right to subpoena your testimony,” Vaughn told her. “That means that no matter how you get in to see Nicodemus, we can call you to trial and force testimony out of you. There's nothing to protect you from that happening.”

Nancy met Vaughn's eyes and considered her options. What did she hope to find out from Nicodemus anyway? His personal opinions about Robert Gleason and Dennis Allard more than anything else. And what was Vaughn's angle? What did he have on her father?

Nancy realized the mess she had gotten herself into.

“I'll see Nicodemus,” she concluded, standing up and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “And I understand what you're telling me. But I'm not going to report back to you about what I learn from him unless I think it will help my father.”

“I didn't think you would,” Vaughn said. “And I'm not asking you to. But I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't warn you.” He stood up and walked over to reach for the doorknob. The interview was at an end.

As Nancy was leaving she turned in the doorway and tried one last question. “Just what kind of proof do you have? I'm sure you know how serious it is to go to the DA and accuse my father of obstructing justice.”

“I haven't accused Carson Drew of anything. Yet,” Vaughn said.

“Pam, call Peter Nicodemus,” he called past Nancy out the door. “The number's in the Rolodex. Tell him that I'm sending Nancy Drew over and that he should give her a royal tour.”

Nancy asked Vaughn for Nicodemus's address, and since it wasn't far, she decided to walk. It would give her time to think.

Nancy left the building, only vaguely aware of the people around her. She was lost in thought. Vaughn must have some important piece of evidence against her father, or at the least he must think he did. She might find out what it was from Mr. Nicodemus, but probably not, since Vaughn had agreed to send her there.

So who's holding the key? she wondered. Had Gleason contacted Vaughn before he died? Was there something Chris and Kate Gleason weren't telling her?

Before she knew it, Nancy was taking the elevator up to Mobley and Myerson's offices on the fifteenth floor of an elegant brick building. To her right were glass doors and a brass plaque with the company name. She took a deep breath and pushed on the brass doorplate.

Nancy had barely announced herself to the receptionist when a tall, handsome man wandered
out to the firm's reception area. She was startled to see how young he was. If it hadn't been for a few gray hairs, she would have taken Peter Nicodemus for a college student.

“Nancy Drew,” Nicodemus said, greeting her with his right hand extended. “I'm glad I've finally gotten a chance to meet Carson Drew's daughter and River Heights's most famous detective.”

Nancy took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

“I guess we should start on this floor,” Nicodemus was saying. “This is where most of the attorneys work. Except, of course, for the partners. They have their own floor just above this one.”

Nancy followed Nicodemus as he led the way down the firm's halls. Along the outside wall, lawyers had their offices. Each one had at least one large window, and each one's furniture and decoration reflected a slightly different personality. On the inside wall, across from the lawyers' offices, secretaries sat at desks behind chest-high partitions.

“If you'll come this way, I'll show you the nuts and bolts of the operation.” Nicodemus led her down a flight of stairs. By the time they reached the next floor, Nancy noticed the noise level had increased considerably.