Update On Crime (5 page)

Continuing to look through the file, Nancy found a series of letters to Marilyn from a major network. Murphy was right—Marilyn was negotiating for a new job with a big increase in salary.
That made her more of a suspect in Nancy's eyes. If Marilyn was about to leave the station, she wouldn't care about any negative effects sabotage might have on her show's ratings.

Nancy tensed as she heard a noise coming from the hallway. She quickly replaced the letters in the file and locked the drawer. By the time Marilyn strode in a moment later, Nancy was pretending to stir the coffee she had brought for the anchorwoman.

“Why are you still here?” Marilyn demanded, taking the cup from Nancy.

“I was wondering if you needed anything else,” Nancy replied.

Nancy's response seemed to mollify the anchorwoman. She took a sip of coffee, then asked in a softer tone, “What are you, a new intern?”

“Yes, my name is Nancy Drew. I've been assigned to work for Hal Taylor,” she said, then waited for a reaction from Marilyn.

She didn't have long to wait. Marilyn's expression turned calculating, and her eyes swept over Nancy in a frankly appraising look. “You should do well. He evidently likes them young and pretty.” She turned away from Nancy with a dismissive gesture.

Just then there was a tap on Marilyn's door, and a tall, bearded man in his fifties appeared in the doorway. He wore blue overalls and had an assortment of small tools hanging from his belt. He was holding out an elegant crystal table lamp to Marilyn.

“I finished rewiring your lamp,” he said in a soft voice that contrasted with his husky appearance.

Marilyn clasped her hands together. “Oh, thank you, Bill,” she said, looking pleased. She took the lamp and set it on her desk. Then she seemed to realize that Nancy was still standing there. “Oh—Bill, this is Nancy Drew,” she said, almost as an afterthought.

“I'm a new intern,” Nancy said, shaking his hand.

“Bill Steghorn, chief engineer,” he told her.

“Bill's been an angel, helping me out with little chores around my house,” Marilyn said. “I don't know what I would have done without him, ever since Hal and I broke up.”

Bill patted her shoulder. “It'll be okay,” he said gently.

Nancy left Marilyn's office, puzzling over Marilyn Morgan's mercurial nature. She could be cold and demanding one instant, and soft and vulnerable the next. One thing was for sure—Nancy would definitely press Hal for more information about the vindictiveness he referred to in his letters to Marilyn.

She found Hal in the news studio, sitting at the studio anchor desk, reading over some last-minute copy. When she told him that she wanted to talk about Marilyn, he covered up his microphone with his hand.

“You never know when you might have an open mike—anyone could be listening,” he explained in a low voice.

Hal refused to give any details about Marilyn's behavior, though. “It goes against my gentleman's code of honor,” he explained. “Suffice it to say that she was very difficult at one point, but all that blew over a while back.”

A harried-looking floor director rushed over to Nancy and thrust a pile of papers at her. “Are you the new intern?” he asked. “Good,” he continued without waiting for her reply. “These are the scripts for the show. I want you to tape them together end-to-end so that we can run them through the TelePrompTer.” He gestured toward a machine directly in front of the anchor desk.

Nancy found a roll of tape and quickly pieced the script together. When she returned the script to the floor director, she asked, “Are they taking extra precautions for the news shows tonight?”

“Yes,” the director said. “We don't want a replay of last night's incident.” He raked a hand through his wiry hair. “I hate having a guard around, though. It puts everyone on edge—especially me.”

While he placed the script next to the TelePrompTer, Nancy walked over to the security guard. “Mr. Liski asked me to find out whether you'd seen anything suspicious so far,” she said to him. Although the producer
hadn't
asked her to check, Nancy felt she would have a better chance of getting information if she used Mr. Liski's name. The guard didn't seem to hear her. “Hey!” she said more sharply, tapping him on the arm.

The guard looked startled. Then he removed a pair of tiny headphones from his ears. “What? Sorry, I was just listening to the radio,” he apologized. “It gets kind of boring, standing here for hours on end.”

Nancy groaned inwardly. It was clear that this guard would be pretty useless in a real emergency!

“Have you seen anything suspicious?” she asked again. The guard shook his head and replaced his earphones.

Sighing, Nancy gave up. Turning her attention back to Marilyn Morgan, she decided to see what Otto Liski knew about her bitterness toward Hal.

She found the producer in the control room, talking to Bill Steghorn. “Bill, you've got to have your people fix the lighting over Hal Taylor,” Otto Liski was saying. “It's been really unflattering recently. He's looking a little green around the gills.”

“I don't think it's the lighting,” Bill replied. “But I'll speak to Clay Jurgenson about it—he's in charge of the lighting this afternoon.” He spotted Nancy and gave her a friendly nod on his way out of the control room. “Too bad Hal isn't easy to light, like Marilyn,” he mumbled.

When Nancy told Mr. Liski that she needed to speak with him privately, they retreated to a prop room just off one of the hallways leading from the newsroom. It was filled with puppets and sets from an afternoon children's show.

“Let me just move this,” Mr. Liski said, sweeping aside an oversize panda bear from a
stool. He sat down, then looked questioningly at Nancy. “Now, what did you want to ask me?”

Nancy perched on an oversize rocking chair. Without divulging the details of her lock-picking, she described what she had discovered about Marilyn's vindictive behavior toward Hal. Otto Liski listened carefully, then shook his head.

“I just can't believe that Marilyn could be behind these threats,” he said firmly. “She's difficult, but she's not
that
kind of difficult. No, I have other worries where Marilyn is concerned,” he continued. “I've been hearing rumors that she's negotiating with a national network. That could spell disaster for our ratings.”

“Those rumors are true—I've seen the letters from the network,” Nancy told him. “If you ask me, that gives her even more motivation to destroy Hal and this newscast.”

“That's a good point,” Mr. Liski admitted. He rubbed his chin distractedly. “We'll have to talk about this later, though. Right now I have to check the story lineup for the news.”

Nancy followed the producer back to the news studio, then remembered her promise to call Bess with an update. She saw an empty office with a phone in it. Bess's shift at the restaurant didn't start for another hour, so Nancy called her at home.

“Thank goodness nothing else terrible has happened,” Bess said after Nancy had filled her in on the day's events. “Oh—I forgot to tell you yesterday, but I think one of the girls I work with knows Hal.”

It might not be much of a lead, thought Nancy, but it couldn't hurt to follow up on it. “See if she knows anything about the attacks, okay?” she asked.

“Sure,” Bess told her. “By the way, isn't Ned coming home soon?”

“Tomorrow,” Nancy said, and smiled. She hoped she'd be able to see him over the weekend—case or no case. After promising to talk to Bess again soon, she hung up.

As she was walking past the news taping studio, the floor director called to her, “Over here, Nancy!”

As she went over to him, she noticed that the atmosphere had become thick with tension. Even the guard had taken off his headphones and was watching alertly.

“I need your help,” the floor director told her. “Hal and Marilyn have controls by their feet that automatically run the script through the TelePrompTer, like computer paper. But sometimes the paper jams, so you have to yank it a bit. I need you to stand by the TelePrompTer.”

“Sure,” Nancy said, and went over to stand by the machine.

Marilyn walked onto the set and took her seat next to Hal at the anchor desk. She was dressed in a royal blue knit suit, with her hair sleeked back into a sophisticated French twist.

Picking up a stack of papers in front of her, she glanced through the script. She made a face and clicked on her in-studio microphone.

“Otto, this is the third time in a row this week that Hal has introduced the lead story,” she complained. The sound system amplified her words so that they boomed loudly across the studio.

From his position inside the glass-enclosed control room opposite her, Otto Liski threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. “We gave Hal all the lead-ins on the crime series because he's been working on the story with the reporter,” his reply came echoing back.

“I don't care
who
the reporter is. I want my share of lead-ins,” Marilyn said firmly. “It's in my contract, remember?”

“I remember.” Mr. Liski sighed. “Hal, switch your copy with Marilyn, okay?”

Hal Taylor muttered under his breath, but he tore the top page off his script and handed it to Marilyn. She accepted the paper with a tight smile.

“Fifteen seconds to air,” the floor director announced. “Live shots on standby.”

When the director signaled to Marilyn, the anchorwoman's expression dissolved into a broad smile. “Good afternoon, this is the Channel Nine Four O'Clock News. I'm Marilyn Morgan,” she said.

“And I'm Hal Taylor,” Hal announced with an equally engaging grin. Their faces bore no trace of the unpleasantness of a moment earlier.

Marilyn read the introduction to the top story, an investigative piece on the housing industry by
reporter Gary Krieger. As the news broadcast progressed without incident, the nervous tension on the set gradually began to dissipate.

Nancy had her hands full running the temperamental TelePrompTer, but she was also closely watching Marilyn's and Hal's performances. When the camera lights were on, the anchor couple acted perfectly cordial toward each other, chatting amiably between the various news segments that they were introducing. Off camera, however, they lapsed into stony silence.

When the last story, which Nancy had learned was always called the kicker, concluded, Hal and Marilyn signed off by saying goodbye to the viewers. Then the program was off the air.

The production crew burst into spontaneous applause—everyone, including Nancy, was relieved that the broadcast had ended without incident.

“See if you can try not to step on my lead-ins again on the six o'clock news, Hal,” Marilyn commented acidly. Without another word, she stalked off the set.

Hal stared after her before leaving the set. As he headed toward the hallway leading to his office, Nancy joined him.

“Let's go over that assignment you were telling me about,” Nancy said. In case anyone else was listening, she wanted to make sure she sounded like an intern. Hal didn't even seem to notice her comment.

“I might have to start a new career as a bus driver,” he grumbled as they rounded a corner.
“Between Marilyn's cold shoulder and these threats I've been receiving, this job is beginning to get to me.”

Nancy sniffed as she suddenly picked up an acrid smell. She looked up ahead—then stopped short.

“Look out, Hal!” she exclaimed, grabbing his arm. She pointed down the hallway, and Hal stopped and stared.

Thick black smoke was seeping out from underneath his office door!

S
TAY BACK
, H
AL
—there could be an explosion!” Nancy exclaimed.

Motioning for Hal to stay behind her, she grabbed a fire extinguisher that was hanging on the wall. Both of them were already beginning to cough from the smoke. Hurrying to the door, Nancy ran her hand over it to check for intense heat. It didn't seem too hot, so she threw open the door.

Flames were licking across Hal's desk, but the fire hadn't yet spread very far. Nancy pulled the pin on the fire extinguisher, releasing a whooshing spray of foam that quickly snuffed out the fire.

Seconds later Hal was in the office with her, sadly regarding the smoking remains of his desk. He tapped his favorite glass bird, which was now dripping with ash and foam. The bird obligingly bobbed its head into the now-empty cup of water.

“Well, at least Harry made it,” Hal said, but his voice cracked with tension.

The smell of lighter fluid hung in the air. There was no question that this fire had been deliberately set, Nancy realized. Belatedly, a smoke alarm in the hallway began ringing. Several other people rushed into Hal's office, some carrying fire extinguishers.