Trail of Lies (2 page)

W
HAT'S GOING ON
?” Steve demanded.

“Our business is with your father,” the shorter of the police officers said.

The other officer looked around. “Will you take us to him?”

His lips set in an angry line, Steve led the two officers to his father's study. When he returned to the den, he walked to the fireplace and poked at the logs with more vigor than necessary.

“Dad wouldn't let me stay,” he grumbled.

“Maybe there's a problem at the shipyard,” George volunteered. “A break-in or something.”

Steve tossed another log on the fire and watched as the sparks flew up the chimney.
“Whatever it is, it had better not interfere with my racing in the Solstice,” he said fiercely.

Nancy's eyes widened in surprise. “How could it?” she asked him. “The police are probably here about your father's business. What connection could there be to your racing?”

Steve shrugged. “My dad thinks dogsledding is a nice hobby but not a career. He'll use any excuse to get me working back at the shipyard.”

George spoke up. “I'm sure he knows how important racing is to you.”

“For Dad, nothing's as important as Wilcox Shipping.” A frustrated look flitted across Steve's face. “But I'm not going to let anything come between me and winning the Solstice Derby. Not my father, not anything.”

The tension in the room crackled almost as loudly as the logs in the fireplace. Then there was a knock at the door.

“Come in, John,” Steve called when he saw the man standing in the doorway.

“Your father asked that we delay dinner an hour,” the butler explained. “His attorney is on his way over for a meeting, and they think it will take a while.”

Though no one said anything, Nancy was sure they were all thinking the same thing she was: Henry Wilcox wouldn't have called his attorney unless the situation was serious.

“Er—would you like to see your room now?” John asked Nancy and George. “There's plenty of time to unpack before dinner, if you'd like to.”

“Good idea,” George murmured. She and Nancy followed John out to the front hall and upstairs.

The sight of the luxurious room the two girls would stay in made Nancy stop wondering about Henry Wilcox for a moment. “Wow!” she breathed as John shut the door behind them. “Now,
this
would make Bess really jealous!”

“It's gorgeous,” George agreed enthusiastically. The walls were a pale shade of peach, and a thick Oriental rug lay on the floor in a rich blaze of colors. Besides the twin canopied beds, there was a sitting area with a fireplace and two comfortable armchairs.

Nancy peeked into the adjoining bathroom. Her eyes widened. “If you think
that's
something, you ought to see this,” she called over her shoulder. “There's this great old-fashioned, claw-footed bathtub in here, and it has gold faucets!”

“Wilcox Shipping must make a lot of money,” George said. She flopped down on one of the beds.

Nancy nodded and closed the door to the bathroom. “My dad told me Henry Wilcox is a millionaire.”

“A millionaire with great taste,” George added.

“I'll bet Mrs. Wilcox did the decorating,” Nancy replied. “According to Dad she was an interior decorator before she got married. She died when Steve was six.”

“Steve is nice, isn't he?” George asked.

Nancy didn't say anything. She wasn't sure she shared George's opinion of Henry Wilcox's son. He had seemed selfish and a little rude to her.

George didn't seem to notice Nancy's silence. “Well, I guess we should unpack,” she said.

“Yeah. Now, what did I do with my purse?” Nancy looked around the room. “I guess I left it in the den.”

She hurried downstairs. As she went through the hallway, her attention was drawn to a door on the left. It looked like a closet, but it had a window in the door. Nancy realized it was an old-fashioned telephone booth.

John Tilden was inside. As Nancy walked by, he looked up. An expression of surprise flitted across his face. He turned away, cupping his hand around the mouthpiece of the phone as though he didn't want anyone to overhear his words.

Nancy frowned. The glass door of the booth looked thick enough to muffle his voice, yet for
some reason John was taking no chances. I wonder why? she thought.

She picked up her purse in the den and went back upstairs to change into some fresh clothes before dinner.

• • •

The Wilcox dining room was just as sumptuously decorated as Nancy and George's room. The long table was covered with a fine linen cloth, and the dishes were delicate china.

Unfortunately, no one who was seated at the table seemed able to appreciate the surroundings. Nancy was shocked at the change in Henry Wilcox since the afternoon. He looked gaunt and worried, with a vertical crease between his brows. Concern was etched on Carson Drew's face, too.

“Can you tell us what the police wanted?” Craig asked after John had served their dinner.

The broiled salmon, baked potatoes, and vegetables looked and smelled delicious, and Nancy suddenly realized that she was hungry. Her last meal had been on the plane hours earlier.

“It's pretty straightforward,” Henry Wilcox said. “A customs inspector found an illegal shipment of ivory that had apparently been smuggled aboard the
Musk Ox.
That's one of my ships,” he added for Nancy and George's benefit.

Craig gripped his fork as though it were a weapon. “I should have been there!” he cried. “I'd have caught the smugglers before they got the stuff onto the ship.”

“I don't understand.” Nancy was puzzled. “Why should you have been there, Craig?”

“Craig has two jobs. He also works as a night watchman at Wilcox Shipping,” Steve explained.

“Yeah,” Craig added. “I'm there Monday through Thursday nights. Why did this have to happen on Friday?” He turned back to Henry. “I just wish I'd been at the shipyard. I wouldn't have let it happen.”

Henry shook his head slowly. “There was nothing you could have done to stop it, Craig.”

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

“Someone used the
Musk Ox
to bring elephant ivory into Alaska.”

“What's illegal about that?” Steve asked. “We sell lots of ivory in Alaska.”

“Native Alaskan walrus ivory” Carson pointed out. “That's legal. But it's illegal to import elephant ivory into the States. The law is designed to help save the elephants from extinction. Poachers kill them for their ivory tusks.”

Henry continued. “What they're bringing in are pieces of ivory already carved. Someone's passing them off as genuine Alaskan items.”

George looked at Nancy, and Nancy knew
what her friend was thinking. Had the little ivory puffin they'd seen in the airport gift shop been smuggled into Alaska?

“Do the police have any idea who's behind the smuggling?” Nancy asked.

Henry nodded slowly. “They think it's me.”

“What?” Steve was shocked.

“The police checked the log, and I was the only person who boarded the ship last night,” Henry told him.

“But you're the owner,” George protested.

“They think that three in the morning was a strange time for a shipyard visit,” Carson explained.

“My trip to Barrow ended late, and I had a lot of work to finish before all of you arrived,” Henry continued, “but the police didn't seem to want to listen.”

Carson Drew sent his friend an encouraging look across the table. “At least there was no formal accusation, and they've agreed not to make the story public.”

“Yet.” Henry's tone was grim. “I've spent over twenty years building Wilcox Shipping and making its name synonymous with integrity and service. Now it's being destroyed.

“When people hear about this, they'll never trust me again,” he added. “I'm afraid this may ruin my business!”

N
ANCY'S HEART WENT OUT
to Henry Wilcox. She knew he was probably right—if he wasn't cleared of the smuggling charges quickly, word would leak out, and his reputation would be ruined in no time. Even if he was eventually proven innocent, his business would suffer severely.

A gloomy silence hung over the table. Looking nervous, John cleared their plates from the table. Then he wheeled a small cart into the dining room, positioning it at the corner of the table between Henry and Nancy. “Dessert will be cherries jubilee,” he announced.

“My favorite!” Nancy said, smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood in the room. John began to warm the cherry liqueur in a copper
skillet over a small burner. Then he struck a match and held it to the skillet. There was a soft whoosh, and the hot liqueur burst into flame.

At the other end of the table Carson Drew settled back in his chair. “Sorry, Nancy,” he said. “I know I promised you a vacation, but it looks like you've got a new case.”

Craig turned to Nancy with a puzzled expression on his face. “What does that mean?”

John began deftly spooning hot cherries onto Nancy's dessert plate.

“Nancy's a detective,” George put in, answering Craig's question. “Finding out who the smugglers are is right up her alley.”

At George's words, John started violently. The skillet rocked, and a tongue of boiling liquid splashed over the side.

Nancy gasped and twitched her arm out of the way. The hot liqueur hit the tablecloth and sizzled for a moment.

“John, be careful!” Henry cried. “Are you all right, Nancy?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” Nancy replied, looking sharply at John.

John was pale. “I—I must have lost my grip on the skillet,” he said shakily. “I'm so sorry, Miss Drew.” He bent down to clean up the mess.

“Well, there's no harm done,” Carson said in a soothing tone.

John hurried out of the room. There was a moment of silence, then Craig turned and gave Nancy an appraising look. “So you're a detective, huh?” he said in a skeptical tone.

“That's right,” Nancy said. “Mr. Wilcox, if you do want my help on this case, I'll be only too happy to give it.”

“I appreciate that,” Henry replied. He sounded grateful. “I know from what Carson has told me that you're a brilliant sleuth.”

There was a snort from the other end of the table. Startled, Nancy turned and met Steve's scornful gaze. “Terrific. This is just terrific,” he growled.

“Hey, Steve, take it easy! I'm sure Nancy will do a great job,” Craig said. He reached out and punched his friend lightly on the shoulder.

Steve didn't respond. He just glowered into his dessert plate. What have I done to offend him? Nancy wondered. It really did seem that Steve had some sort of grudge against her.

Maybe it's just that he's worried about his father and he thinks I won't find out anything, Nancy reasoned. But somehow she didn't feel that was the real explanation for Steve's outburst.

Then a thought struck her. Could it be that he was worried about what she
would
find? Did Steve have something to hide?

For that matter, what about John Tilden?
Why had the butler reacted so strongly when he heard she was a detective?

She could find out only by investigating, Nancy knew. “I want to start looking around tonight,” she announced. “Is there any way I can get aboard the
Musk Ox?”

“I'm afraid not. The police have cordoned off the ship until tomorrow morning. No one's allowed on board,” Henry said. He cleared his throat and added, “I know Steve and Craig have planned a big night for you and George. Don't change your plans because of this unfortunate situation.”

“Hey, that's right!” Craig said enthusiastically. “We wanted to take you to Anchorage's latest night spot. It's called Northern Lights.”

“Yes.” Steve bent a private smile on George. “It's a great way to get to know Alaska.”

“Well, if you're sure you feel up to it . . .” George said, but her dark eyes were shining.

When dinner was over, the girls went upstairs and changed into the party clothes they'd packed. George wore a soft, short-skirted blue knit dress, while Nancy slipped into a bright red top with a matching skirt that swirled around her long legs. George lent Nancy a red silk scarf that her mother had given her. When they came downstairs, Steve and Craig whistled appreciatively.

“Want to take my van?” Steve said to Craig.

“You bet.” Craig nodded. “I don't think the girls would like riding in my old truck. It's fine for hauling dogs and supplies, but it's not much for going to a nightclub.”

Steve helped George into the front seat of a brand-new van. Craig and Nancy climbed into the back. Nancy noticed that the expensive vehicle had all the options, including a color television.