004 Smile and Say Murder (9 page)

“Let’s get moving, you two,” Officer Bellows said. Still holding her pistol, she and the silent
O’Hara ushered Nancy and Mick down the hallway, past the gawking staff members and into the elevator. The doors opened and Mick turned to Nancy. “After you, Miss Detective,” he said wryly. Ned and Sondra followed, like mourners at a funeral.

Nancy was beginning to have compassion for all the criminals she’d helped to arrest over the years. The public embarrassment of being led off by the cops was horrible! Ned and Sondra hailed a cab and headed toward the police station. Nancy and Mick got into the back of the patrol car while Bellows and O’Hara settled into the front. After a short, miserable ride, they arrived at the precinct.

Officer Bellows had confiscated the revolver as evidence before she’d left
Flash.
As soon as Nancy and Mick had been fingerprinted, she sent the gun to the police lab to be tested against the bullet that Detective Graham had taken out of Yvonne’s office wall. Then she let Nancy and Mick make one phone call each.

Luckily, Nancy’s father and her attorney were one and the same. It just so happened that Carson Drew was one of the state’s finest criminal lawyers. When he heard that Nancy was being held at the police precinct, he promised to be there as fast as he could.

Once Mick had called his lawyer, Officer Bellows and Detective Graham sat down to interrogate their two suspects. The questioning was grueling. The police went over every aspect of the afternoon repeatedly.

The ordeal was made even worse by Ned and Sondra standing around watching the whole thing. Since neither Nancy nor Mick had been accused of a crime yet, they weren’t interrogated in private. That meant that Nancy had to watch Ned consoling Sondra, comforting her, trying to calm her fears.

Nancy struggled to keep her mind on Detective Graham’s and Officer Bellows’s questions, in spite of Ned and Sondra. She had to. If she seemed unsure of her answers, the police would be less likely to believe her side of the story.

When the two officers had finished questioning Nancy, they turned to Mick. To her surprise, he didn’t deny anything that had happened. He admitted that the gun had been in his desk, that Nancy hadn’t been trying to kill him, that it had all been a crazy mistake. But over and over again he repeated adamantly that the gun had been planted in his desk. “For once,” he said, “the joke’s on me. And it’s not very funny.”

Nancy actually felt sorry for Mick. How could he expect the police to accept his silly story when all the evidence was against him? He had no alibi for the afternoon, and any number of motives for wanting to knock off Yvonne.

Nancy wasn’t too worried about herself. What could the police accuse her of? Nothing illegal. However, she greeted her father with great relief. He looked so sure of himself and so in control. “Nancy,” he said, coming over to
kiss his daughter. “Honey, are you all right? I know this isn’t pleasant, but just hang on for a little while longer. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

Nancy gave her father a huge hug. He’d made it from River Heights in under forty-five minutes. He must have sped all the way here, Nancy thought to herself. Probably the only time he’s ever gone above the speed limit in his entire life!

Moments later, the results came back from the lab. The gun and bullet matched.

Officer Bellows turned to Nancy. “Ms. Drew, you’re free to leave.” Then she faced Mick. “Mr. Swanson,” she said solemnly, “you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Yvonne Verdi.” Quickly she read him his rights. “Would you come with me? We’re going to have to put you in a cell.” For the second time that day, the policewoman pulled out her handcuffs.

At first Mick didn’t move from his seat. He just blinked uncomprehendingly. Then he jumped up, knocking over his chair. “You think I’m a murderer? Me?” he cried. “But I didn’t do it, I swear. That gun isn’t mine!
Someone planted it!”

“You’ll have to explain that to the judge and jury,” Officer Bellows said calmly.

“And how long will that take?” Mick asked. “A month? Two months? More?”

Suddenly Mick’s face turned bright red. Nancy had seen his expression change in the
same way on the first day she’d met him—just before he’d smashed Yvonne’s vase. He seemed to be losing control of himself.

Grabbing Officer O’Hara’s gun out of his holster, Mick shrieked, “You are not going to lock me up for a crime I didn’t commit!” He kicked the overturned chair out of his way and made a desperate dash across the room, straight for the precinct door!

M
ICK WAS HALFWAY
across the room before anyone reacted to his insane dash toward freedom. And because of his head start, it looked as though he might just make it out of the police station untouched! Then Detective Graham pulled out his pistol. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he cried. But there was no way he could fire with so many people in the room.

Nancy thought fast. She picked up the chair and slid it across the floor, hitting Mick hard in the legs. Mick went down, sprawling just out of reach of the precinct door.

Officer Bellows pounced on the now-prone Mick and snapped her handcuffs on him. “It’s a good thing this young woman stopped you,” she said. “If you’d escaped, we’d only have tracked you down, and the jury would have been much
tougher on you. Now let’s go.” She pulled Mick to his feet.

“No!” Mick screamed. “I didn’t do it!” But Officer Bellows pushed him toward the hallway that held the temporary cells. Soon Mick had disappeared and his cries had died away.

It was then that Nancy noticed Sondra quietly weeping in the corner. But Mick’s sister wasn’t alone in her misery. Ned was right there with her. Nancy almost swallowed her teeth when she saw him take her in his arms and gently stroke her hair.

“It’s all right, Sondra. Don’t cry.”

“Mick,” Sondra sobbed.

Ned continued stroking Sondra. “Don’t worry,” he told her softly. “If your brother’s innocent, we’ll get him cleared. Nancy will help us. She’s the best detective around!” Ned glanced pleadingly at Nancy.

But Nancy was seething. “I can’t believe what “I’m hearing,” she said through clenched teeth. “Look at you. You’re hugging her, and I’m standing right here! You’re supposed to care about
me,
Ned. I’ve been through a lot today. But you don’t so much as say a comforting word!”

“Nancy,” Ned said, letting go of Sondra and walking hesitantly over to Nancy, “you know it’s not like that.”

Sondra looked in bewilderment from Ned’s face to Nancy’s. “You mean you two are going out?” she asked. “Is
he
a spy, too? Is that how he got this job?”

“We
were
going out!” Nancy said. “But I guess he has other plans!” She whirled around and dashed out of the police station. Halting on the steps, she fought back the tears stinging her eyes. “I’m not going to cry,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

But Nancy wasn’t left alone with her tumultuous thoughts for long. Her father followed her out of the precinct and wrapped a consoling arm around her shoulder.

Nancy threw herself into her father’s embrace. “Oh, Dad, how could he do this to me?”

“People sometimes do things they don’t mean,” Mr. Drew said. “We both know Ned is a fine young man, sensitive and considerate. I think he’ll come to his senses, Nancy. Just give him time.” But there was really nothing Mr. Drew could say to make his daughter feel better.

“I hate him,” Nancy sobbed. “I don’t ever want to see him again!”

When Nancy had calmed down, she and her father got into Mr. Drew’s silver Cadillac and drove back to River Heights.

For the first half of the ride, Nancy thought she was going to go crazy just imagining Ned and Sondra together. He’s probably taking her out for a fancy dinner right now, Nancy thought. And then they’ll go dancing at some wild nightclub.

But after a while Nancy couldn’t stand imagining those things. She was only making herself more miserable. I’ve got to stop thinking about
them, she decided. I’ve got to, or I’m going to lose my mind!

It was then that Mick’s hysterical words in the police station came back to Nancy.
“You think I’m a murderer? Me? But I didn’t do it, I swear. That gun isn’t mine! Someone planted it!”
Mick had sounded so surprised at what was happening to him.

With all the evidence against the art director, it seemed as though the case were over, clean and simple. But something was simmering in the back of Nancy’s mind.

When Nancy had taken Yvonne’s pulse in her office that day, the publisher’s heart had been racing. That shouldn’t have happened if she had really fainted.

But why would Yvonne fake passing out? Was it possible that she had, in fact, seen the mysterious gunman? Was it someone she wanted to cover for? But why would she cover for someone who was trying to kill her?

Whatever the answer, Nancy was becoming more and more sure that Yvonne was hiding something. Hadn’t she had that feeling since her very first day on the case?

Nancy went over that first day in her mind. There’d been that horrible scene with Mick in Yvonne’s office and the practical joke with the severed head. After that, Nancy remembered, she’d spent the day developing film for Mick. And she also recalled being surprised at the thoughtful note the art director had written to her about being careful in the darkroom.

Suddenly Nancy caught her breath. Mick’s spelling had been worse than a fourth-grader’s. He’d confused
your
with
you’re
and
their
with
they’re.
But in the threatening letters to Yvonne, those words had been spelled correctly! Nancy bit her lip. Mick didn’t write those letters, she told herself, suddenly sure. But who did?

Nancy decided to take the train into Chicago the next day and do a little investigating on her own. On a Saturday, no one would be around to get in the way.

• • •

Nancy spent a leisurely Saturday morning at home with her father. Ned called once, but Nancy told Hannah Gruen to tell him she wasn’t home. She’d tried not to cry then, but a few tears escaped nonetheless.

Nancy caught the eleven-fifteen train into Chicago and was in the lobby of the
Flash
building a few minutes before one. A security guard who looked more asleep than awake asked her to sign a visitor’s book. She wrote her name and her time of arrival.

Nancy flipped back a couple of pages and noticed Yvonne’s name in the book, too. She’d been up to the office late Thursday night. What a workaholic, Nancy thought.

Once Nancy had signed the book, the guard motioned her toward the elevators. It bothered her that he hadn’t asked for her I.D. Security certainly was lax!

Nancy rode up to the
Flash
offices. She had
made a point of watching Scott activate and deactivate the security system a few times, so she knew just how it worked. All she had to do was push the right coded numbers and the alarm was deactivated. Then Nancy used her credit card to pick the lock. In less than five minutes she had the
Flash
offices completely to herself.

Nancy decided to begin her search in Mick’s office. She picked the lock on his door and stepped inside. It looked the same as always, except that Mick’s camera was sitting on his desk. Nancy remembered that he’d left it there Friday afternoon, just before she’d come in and clobbered him.

Nancy picked up the expensive Nikon camera. It was still loaded. Well, she thought, I might as well get this film developed and see what it has to show. She rewound the film, opened the back of the camera, and emptied out the finished roll.

Nancy hurried down the hall to the darkroom. She knew she was taking a big liberty in developing Mick’s photos without his knowledge, but since she was only doing it in order to clear him of a crime, she figured she was justified.

Nancy let herself into the darkroom and quickly set up the chemicals she’d need to turn the negatives into full-color photos. She worked hard, and soon she had a print of each picture ready.

Nancy sat down with the wet prints and began
scrutinizing them for clues. Most of the shots were pretty arty, contrasting light and shadow or picking up odd mixtures of people in the same shot. The work was very different from the commercial portraits Mick took for
Flash.
He was clearly talented at both types of photography.

Still, none of the pictures helped Nancy much. But they have to! Nancy thought in frustration. I’ve got nothing else to go on! She redoubled her efforts, checking each photo even more closely.

Thoughtfully, Nancy picked up a picture showing a newspaper stand. There was no doubt that Mick had a special touch with a camera. The newsstand looked so clear. Nancy could actually see Friday’s date on the front of one of the papers, and the words on the nearby street sign. Even the shadows were clear.

Suddenly Nancy realized that the photo might be the clue she was looking for! It could be just the thing needed to establish an alibi for Mick. Nancy checked every detail of the picture. It was all there—the street signs to indicate place, the newspapers to show the date. Now if she could just establish the time the picture had been taken, Mick would have an airtight alibi!