Authors: Carolyn Keene
“Where’d you get this?” Nancy asked, coming up behind Ned.
The boy shrugged. “Don’t know,” he replied. “It came to the office just a little while ago, with instructions to deliver immediately.” He thrust a clipboard at Ned. “Sign here, please.”
Nancy looked at the box Ned held in his hand. “That looks like a videocassette!” she exclaimed.
Ned opened the box. “It
is
a tape.” He looked at the VCR sitting on top of the television set. “I’ll put it in.”
Nancy adjusted the television set as Ned put the tape on. They both sat down on the sofa with the remote control and Ned flicked it on.
For a moment the screen was filled with silvery snow. Then the image cleared and Nancy could see George. She was seated, tied to a chair. She was pale and obviously groggy, but her eyes were open and filled with terror. There was a smear of blood on her cheek.
“Oh, no,” Nancy moaned. “Poor George!” She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. It was hypnotizing.
Ned stared at the screen, his fists clenched, trying to speak. No words would come out. On the tape, a thickly muffled voice said, “Well, Nancy Drew, did you enjoy the view from the press box?” Nancy couldn’t tell whether it was a man or a woman, but there was no disguising the triumph in it.
The kidnapper chuckled. “Wasn’t that an interesting show? Of course, now that I have your friend, I have to decide what to do with her. I have lots of choices, but I haven’t made up my mind—yet. But if you’ll go out to Sainte-Hélene’s Island now, to the museum at the Old Fort, I’ll get in touch with you. Wait there to hear from me.” There was a moment of silence, and then the chuckle came again. The screen went black.
Shakily, Nancy got to her feet. “Oh, Ned,” she whispered. “This is so awful. And I feel responsible.”
Ned put his arm around her shoulders. “I feel pretty awful, too,” he said in a low voice. “But you can’t blame yourself.”
For a few moments Nancy let Ned’s comforting arms surround her. Then she pulled back. “Well, we can’t think about that now,” she said in a determined voice. “We’ve got to think about George and how to get her back. Come on. Let’s go to the Old Fort.”
The Old Fort wasn’t a fort at all, Nancy and Ned discovered. Instead it was a protected grassy area on Saint-Hélene’s Island that was used as an arsenal back in 1822. Also on the island were some of the pavilions left over from Expo ’67. They’d been turned into shops and restaurants and cafes, along with swimming pools, gardens—even an aquarium.
But Nancy and Ned didn’t care to shop or to see the sights. They hurried directly to the museum, a two-story building that housed displays tracing the history of New France and Canada through the early days. It was filled with weapons, brightly colored military uniforms, and a large model of what Montreal was like in 1760.
Nancy paced nervously back and forth in the lobby. “What’s the kidnapper going to do with her?”
“I don’t know,” Ned said sympathetically and glanced at the phone at the information desk. “Do you suppose the kidnapper will call?”
“That’s a possibility,” Nancy said. “But with this guy, you can’t tell. He might try anything! Or she,” she added, remembering that the kidnapper could be a woman.
It was nearly five o’clock, and Nancy was beginning to feel desperate. What would happen if the museum closed and the kidnapper hadn’t contacted them yet? But just then the telephone on the desk rang. The woman who answered it looked around at the few people left in the lobby.
“Is there someone here named Nancy Drew?” she asked in a thick French accent.
Nancy jumped for the phone, with Ned right beside her. The kidnapper laughed, a grating sound that echoed in Nancy’s ear. “Are you and your friend enjoying the museum?” the voice asked.
“What have you done with George?” Nancy demanded. “Where is she?”
“Ah, so the famous detective is stumped at last!” the voice exclaimed, obviously pleased. “Well, Nancy Drew, you’ll just have to wait until I’m ready to tell you where she is—and I’m not ready yet.” The voice dropped, and there was an edge to it that made Nancy’s blood run cold. “But you can be sure of one thing, my dear detective.”
“What’s that?” Nancy whispered.
“George Fayne is going to die. And you and Ned are, too. The game is mine, my friend, and I get to make up the rules!”
Chapter Thirteen
T
HERE WAS NOTHING
for Nancy and Ned to do but go back to the apartment. They didn’t dare go out to dinner in case the kidnapper called. Instead, they ordered a pizza and ate it without really tasting it. They watched television without really seeing it, and neither of them said a word.
The phone startled them both when it rang. Nancy jumped to answer it while Ned turned down the TV. But it wasn’t the kidnapper—it was Annette LeBeau. Nancy sighed nervously. She didn’t want to tie up the line.
“I’ve been out of town for a few days,” Annette said, “and when I got back this evening I received the strangest phone call.”
“A phone call?” Nancy asked.
“Yes. Someone—I’m not sure whether it was a man or a woman—wanted me to call you with a message.” Nancy heard a rustling of paper. “I wrote it down so I could give it to you exactly.”
With growing excitement, Nancy reached for a pencil. The message had to be from the kidnapper. “Okay,” she said eagerly. “Let’s hear it.”
“ ‘Nancy and Ned are going to have a lovely day sightseeing tomorrow,’ ” Annette read. “ ‘The view from Mont-Royal is the best in the city. The Chalet is the place to wait.’ ” She cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I ask you what this is all about?” she added curiously.
Nancy’s jaw tightened. “Our blackmailer has added a new crime to his repertoire,” she said grimly. “Kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping!”
“Our friend George Fayne was kidnapped this morning from Olympic Stadium.”
“Have you called the police?”
“No, not yet,” Nancy replied. “But if we don’t have any leads by tomorrow, we may have to.”
“Well, if I can help in any way, just let me know,” Annette said. “The resources of the station are at your disposal, if they would help.”
Nancy thanked Annette and put down the telephone. Then she remembered to call Ms. Amberton to update her. After hanging up she said to Ned slowly, “You know, this whole thing feels like some sort of scavenger hunt. It’s as if we’ve been following a trail of clues that somebody deliberately laid out for us. And
George
is the grand prize.” She looked down at her notes. “Tomorrow, we’re supposed to look for clues at the top of Mont-Royal.”
Nancy and Ned spent most of the next day, Sunday, in the mountaintop park, in the center of the city. But it was as fruitless as the afternoon they spent on Sainte-Hélene’s Island. No call, nothing.
The view
was
stunning, though. They could pick out the Cherbourg Building in the middle of the other skyscrapers in downtown Montreal. To their left was the oval of Olympic Stadium. The distance made it look tiny.
But Nancy and Ned spent the entire, endless day sitting on the terrace in the Chalet near the pay phone. They kept going over and over the details of the case.
“I feel so helpless,” Nancy told Ned. It was five-thirty in the afternoon and getting cool. She pulled her yellow cardigan closer around her. “I feel like a puppet on a string, jumping whenever the kidnapper says jump. I’m sure this creep is our blackmailer, too,” she added bitterly.
Ned shaded his eyes from the late-afternoon sun as he looked toward the river. He pointed to the wharves. “You know what,” he said. “Those big warehouses along the river would make a great hiding place. I wonder if George is in one of those buildings along the docks.”
Nancy leaned both elbows on the table, shrugging. “I’ve decided,” she said, “that the kidnapper-blackmailer is sending us on these wild-goose chases just to keep us busy.”
“Maybe we were getting too close,” Ned suggested. “Maybe the blackmailer got nervous.”
“Exactly where
are
we?” Nancy asked thoughtfully. “We’ve eliminated Emile Dandridge and Lake Sinclair as suspects, we’ve established that—”
The telephone on the wall rang, interrupting her.
“It’s the kidnapper!” Nancy exclaimed, dashing for it. “I’m sure of it!”
But when she picked up the phone, she was greeted by Ashley Amberton’s voice. “I just received a telephone message, instructing me to call you at this number,” Ms. Amberton said. “We’re supposed to be in my office in exactly thirty minutes,” she said. “I’m at home now, but I’ll meet you there in a half hour. You’ll receive another message when we get to the office.”
Nancy looked at her watch. “We’re on our way,” she said.
“Oh, and Nancy—there’s more to the message. Something very odd.”
“What is it?” Nancy asked.
“It says, ‘Playing blindman’s buff has been fun, but the game’s getting boring. Isn’t it time you cried
uncle
?’ ”
The Sunday afternoon traffic was heavier than Nancy had expected, and it was nearly six-thirty when Nancy and Ned finally got to Ashley Amberton’s office.
“You just missed the call,” she told them, greeting Nancy and shaking hands with Ned. Nancy noticed that her left hand was bandaged. She wondered what had happened.
“What did the kidnapper say?” Nancy asked eagerly.
“Here’s the message,” Ms. Amberton said, giving it to Nancy with a chilly smile. “I copied it down exactly.”
“What does it say, Nan?” Ned asked.
“ ‘Your friend is all packed up and ready to go at the Cherbourg Wharf,’ ” Nancy read out loud. “ ‘If you don’t find her by midnight, she’s going to be taking a short ocean trip—
straight down
.’ ”
Ashley Amberton glanced at her watch. “I’ve taken the liberty,” she said, “of arranging for the company helicopter to fly you over to the wharf. It’s waiting for you on the roof right now. Traffic is heavy at this hour, and the helicopter will have you on the wharf in no time at all. Since you’ll be flying in, you won’t have to worry about the gates, which are locked, of course. It’s a high-security area.”
“What about the warehouse?” Nancy asked. “Is it locked, too?”
Ms. Amberton opened her desk drawer. “This should do the trick.” She handed Nancy a ring of keys. One was marked Warehouse.
Nancy thrust the keys into the pocket of her flower-printed skirt. “Thanks,” she said. She and Ned followed Ms. Amberton to the elevator.
Up on the roof the helicopter was ready to go. Its rotor blades turned lazily as the pilot warmed the engine. When he saw them coming, he gunned the engine and the rotors began to spin more quickly. The stiff wind almost blew Nancy over as she ran across the roof, Ned right behind her.
“One more thing,” Ashley Amberton said as the pilot reached down to give Nancy a hand. “As soon as you find her, I want you to bring your friend here so that I know she’s safe. I’ll stay here and work.”
“We will,” Nancy promised. “Will you please call the police and have them meet us at the warehouse? We’ll need help searching.” The older woman nodded. “And thanks again for everything you’ve done.”
“You’ve got nothing to thank me for,” Ms. Amberton said with a smile. “Now hurry! You’ve got to get over to the wharf fast, before your friend is murdered!”
Chapter Fourteen
T
HE HELICOPTER FLEW
out over the choppy surface of the Saint Lawrence River, carrying Nancy and Ned to the Cherbourg Wharf. Darkness was falling, and the lights of Montreal were flickering on like a web of sparkling diamonds far below. It was like riding a magic carpet, Nancy thought. It might have even been fun if she hadn’t kept thinking about the kidnapper’s ominous message. At midnight, George would be killed! But at least, thanks to Ms. Amberton, they weren’t wasting time just trying to get to the wharf. That left more time to look for George. She checked her watch. It was just after seven. In the seat beside her, Ned was looking out the window.
“That’s the Cherbourg warehouse down there!” the pilot yelled into her ear over the deafening clatter of the copter’s rotors.
Below, Nancy could just make out the dim outline of a very long, narrow building. It took up at least three acres of dock space. Beside it were dozens of huge cargo containers, each the size of a semi trailer, with smaller wooden crates and black metal drums stacked between them. All of it was waiting to be loaded onto the ship tied up at the dock. Her heart sank. If George was stuck in one of those containers, how would they ever find her even with police help?
“I’ll put down at the end of the building, by the main door,” the pilot said, expertly handling the controls. The helicopter banked, hovered briefly over the dock, and then touched down with a gentle thump.
Nancy looked at the pilot. “You’re going to wait for us, aren’t you?”
The man nodded and began turning off switches over his head, cutting the engine. “I’ll stay right here,” he said. “That way, I’ll be ready to go when you get back.” He gave Nancy and Ned a curious look. “What’s going on, anyway?” he asked. “Ms. Amberton wouldn’t tell me a thing.”
“We’ll explain everything when we get back,” Nancy promised, opening the door and jumping down onto the pavement. It felt very solid under her feet after the ride. “Ready, Ned?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Ned answered.
“Come on,” Nancy said. “We’ll find her.”
Although the security floodlights on the building weren’t bright, Nancy could see the outlines of a twenty-foot door in the end of the metal building. It was big enough to drive a freight train through. Beside it, there was a smaller door. Over it hung a sign: “Authorized Personnel Only. Guard Dogs On Patrol.”
Nancy shuddered. “Guard dogs,” she whispered. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“We’re authorized personnel,” Ned reminded her as she put the key carefully into the lock.
“The dogs don’t know that,” Nancy said grimly. “I suppose Ms. Amberton called to alert any guards on duty. Maybe they’ll help us.”
Inside, the lights were even dimmer than the ones outside. Most of the vast space was in mysterious shadow. As Nancy’s eyes got accustomed to the dark, she was able to make out a long center aisle. It ran the full length of the building. The rest of the warehouse was stacked with containers and crates.