Enemy Match
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories #73
Enemy Match
Contents
1. A Call for Help
2. A Mysterious Car
3. Nina’s Story
4. Telephone Threats
5. Nancy Gets an Assistant
6. River Adventure
7. Capsized!
8. Outlanders
9. White Water Rescue
10. A Friend in Need
11. Good News
12. The Crashing Staircase
13. A Familiar Voice
14. An Exciting Match
15. Eavesdroppers
16. The Villain Unmasked!
17. Discouraged Detectives
18. An Important Clue
19. A Bet Against Nancy
20. Sweep to Victory
1. A Call for Help
Nancy Drew’s blue eyes filled with tears as she read the final words of the letter written to her by her former schoolmate, Nina Ford.
Please help me, Nancy. I don’t know where else to turn. I must find out what happened to my dad and clear his name.
She put the letter down and tried to turn away so that Hannah could not see that she was upset. Hannah peered at Nancy over her glasses. “What is it? Is something wrong, dear?” The woman had been the Drews’ housekeeper ever since Nancy’s mother had died, and had taken care of Nancy since she was a baby.
Nancy forced a smile. “Oh, it’s just an old friend who’s having a problem and wants me to help.”
“Must be something serious, from the look on your pretty face.”
The girl detective nodded and then, impulsively, hugged the housekeeper. “Oh, Hannah, you’re such a flatterer. But I love you.”
Hannah hugged her in return. Then she took Nancy by both arms and held her at a distance. “Well, are you going to take the case, even though the River Heights Bicentennial is coming up so soon?”
Nancy grinned. “Of course. I have no choice. Besides, the bicentennial is more than a week away. When an old friend is in trouble, I can’t turn her down. You taught me that, Hannah.” Suddenly a new voice broke in. “Take what case? Oh, don’t tell me you’re planning to go off on another adventure this week of all weeks!” The words came tumbling out of Bess Marvin, Nancy’s pretty blonde friend, who had burst through the front door and into the kitchen, obviously excited.
Rumpling her hair with both hands, she flopped into a comfortable chair, exhaling dramatically. “What a morning I’ve had. I worked my fingers to the bone down at the bicentennial office. Oh, Nancy, you should see your dress! It’s white, and it must have fifty thousand yards of satin and lace. It’s gorgeous! You’re going to be the most beautiful queen of this century!”
Both Nancy and Hannah smiled at the girl’s typical display of enthusiasm. Bess and her cousin, George Fayne, were two of Nancy’s best friends. George, however, was away for the summer visiting her grandparents in California.
As Bess noticed the somewhat mixed emotions on Nancy’s face, she suddenly remembered the conversation she had overheard when she rushed in.
“Oh, oh,” said Bess. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we? You’re taking on another case, right?” Nancy added.
“With only a little more than a week before being crowned queen of the bicentennial celebration? I can’t believe it! Do you realize what will happen if you don’t show up?”
“Of course I do. Kimberly van Rensselaer will take my place.”
“But she’s the snootiest, snobbiest, most arrogant girl who ever lived in River Heights.” “Oh, Bess. I know a lot of people feel the
same way, but you have to admit she is beautiful. Besides, she was elected first runner-up, fair and square.”
Bess put her hands over her ears. “Just the thought of it makes me ill,” she said. She pulled Nancy into the living room, sat her down on the sofa, and continued. “Look, I don’t care if you are a detective. What mystery could be so important that you would give up being queen of the River Heights Bicentennial?”
Instead of replying, Nancy handed Bess the letter, written on pale blue stationery, that she had received that morning. “Bead that, Bess, and tell me what you would do.”
Bess read it aloud.
“Dear Nancy,
“It’s been so long since I’ve been in touch with you, but so much has happened over the past year that I’ve been in a daze.
“First, my dad was accused of committing mail fraud about a year ago. I know he’s innocent, Nancy, but he couldn’t prove it. He was sentenced to five years in jail!
“Then, something even worse happened. When they were taking him to the penitentiary, the police car in which he was riding was swept away in a flood on the New Brighton River. He was never found.
“I’m now living with Mr. and Mrs. Calisher. Mr. Calisher was Dad’s business partner. They have been very sweet to me, but they can’t help me with this problem. I’ll explain when I see you. Please meet me at Benton’s coffee shop in New Brighton at noon on Tuesday.
“I’m really desperate. Please help me, Nancy. I don’t know where else to turn. I must find out what happened to my dad and clear his name.
Affectionately,
Nina”
Bess looked up, her face stricken. “How terrible!” she said. “And here I thought Nina was on top of the world. She’s considered to be one of the best tennis players around. As a matter of fact, my father was saying just the other day that she might be able to go on to be a national champion.”
The two girls reminisced about Nina and what good friends they had all been in school. Then, when she was fourteen, Nina’s mother had died and her father moved his business to New Brighton. The girls had lost touch with each other except for the reports in the sports pages about Nina’s success as a tennis player.
They recalled, too, how Mr. Ford had been a great favorite of the neighborhood children. He had amused them with his tennis clown act and trick shots on so many quiet summer afternoons. Having been a tournament player himself, he was Nina’s coach when she started.
Then the girls’ conversation lagged and they found themselves staring into space until Nancy finally broke the spell.
“Well,” Nancy said and got up, “there’s no use putting off the agony any longer.”
“You’re not going to New Brighton, are you?” Bess asked. “Nina said she’d meet you tomorrow."
“I’m going down to the bicentennial office to make my excuses.”
“Wait,” Bess begged, tugging at Nancy’s sleeve, as both girls walked outside. “Don’t be too hasty. The bicentennial isn’t until the fifteenth. Maybe you can finish the case and get back from New Brighton by the fourteenth, just in time for rehearsal. Oh, Nancy, don’t just cancel out. New Brighton isn’t that far, and you know how great you are under pressure!” Nancy took in a deep breath and laughed at her friend’s pleas. “All right, Bess, but I have to go down to the festival office and explain the situation.”
“Hello, everybody.” It was Carson Drew striding up the path. Mr. Drew, a lawyer, was his usual affable self. “Anything happening around here?”
“Of course,” said Nancy, as he and the girls sat down on the porch for a moment. “I just received a sad letter from Nina Ford. She told me her dad had been convicted of mail fraud and that on the way to prison he was swept away in a flood on the New Brighton River. Dad, did you know about that?”
Carson Drew stretched his long legs and tapped out his pipe thoughtfully.
“Nancy, I’m sorry. I think that occurred while you were out of town. When you got back, so many things happened, I guess I never did tell you.
“By the time I found out about the trial and John’s disappearance it was too late for me to provide any legal assistance. I do wish he had called
me, but his firm employed their own lawyer.”
“Dad, would you represent Mr. Ford if I find him and turn up evidence?”
“Absolutely,” her father said. “Poor Nina, she’s virtually an orphan now. Who is she living with? I know the Fords had no close relatives.” “She’s staying with the Calishers. You know, Mr. Calisher was Mr. Ford’s business partner.” Mr. Drew frowned and looked down. He started to speak and then he stopped.
“What is it, Dad?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that Calisher was kind of an odd duck. Highly emotional type. Anyway, if you take the case, you’ll miss out on the bicentennial, won’t you?”
“Probably,” Nancy said. “I don’t see how I can be in two places at once.”
“Hmm,” Carson Drew said, “well, that’s disappointing. Probably more so for me than for you, Nancy. I’m very proud my daughter was named queen of the River Heights Bicentennial. I guess Kimberly will fill in for you.” Bess frowned. “I may throw myself under her float in the middle of the parade just to protest the whole thing.”
“Now, Bess, maybe Nancy can do both jobs. Anyway, a friend is worth more than a crown. And you shouldn’t be too hard on Kimberly. She can’t help the fact she was born both rich and pretty. Think how hard it must be for her to make friends with everybody envying her.” “Remember the Christmas dance?” Bess asked Nancy. “She wasn’t satisfied to have one date. She wanted to dance with every boy on the floor.”
Nancy laughed. “I think she did, too.” “She’ll grow out of it,” Nancy’s father said with a twinkle. “I went to school with her dad, you know. He was rather arrogant himself and hard to get along with when he was young. But he’s mellowed with time. He even lets me tee off first when we play golf.”
The laughter was interrupted by the ring of the telephone. Hannah appeared at the door. “Nancy, it’s your friend Nina.”
Mr. Drew and the two girls returned to the living room where Nancy took the phone.
“Nina! Hello! Oh yes, I have your letter right here. I’m just so sorry about everything that’s happened.”
Nina’s voice came through strained and halting. “Nancy, can you meet me tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, thank you,” Nina began to sob. “I need you more than ever now, Nancy. Someone is threatening me!”
2. A Mysterious Car
Nancy gasped at Nina’s words. “What do you mean you're being threatened? Have you been getting calls or letters?”
Carson Drew and Bess were electrified by Nancy's half of the conversation. Bess shifted from one foot to the other, mouthing the question, “What’s happening?”
But Nina cut the conversation short. "I can't talk now. Please meet me and I'll tell you everything. And please don't try to call me here at the Calishers. Goodbye, Nancy."
"Wait," Nancy cried, but too late. Nina Ford had hung up.
Nancy replaced the phone and told her father and Bess how frightened Nina had been. "that settles it," the young detective concluded.
“Dad, Bess and I are going now to tell the bicentennial people. I'm leaving for New Brighton tomorrow.”
The moment Nancy and Bess arrived at the festival office a stout, friendly woman greeted them. “Nancy, you must try on your gown.”
“I will,” the girl said hesitantly, “but I’m really here to give you some news that might change things.”
Mrs. Milton was only half listening as she held out the dress. She and Bess oohed and ahed as they slipped the garment over Nancy’s head and smoothed the great clouds of white material. Nancy could not help but smile as she admired the lovely dress, which was fashioned after an eighteenth-century ball gown.
But while she changed back into her street clothes, she told Mrs. Milton that she had to go out of town.
The woman’s face fell, for Nancy was one of her favorites. “Not be the queen?” she asked. “Nancy, what in the world would prevent you?”
“Yes, Nancy,” a sarcastically sweet voice purred from behind a dressing room curtain. “What could make the great Nancy Drew miss such an honor?”
The curtain parted and a striking, black-haired girl with almond-shaped brown eyes appeared dressed in a flowing blue gown.
“Kimberly,” groaned Bess. The girl turned and leveled a superior look.
“Hello, Kimberly,” Nancy said, “you look lovely.”
“Thank you, Nancy. You are so gracious,” Kimberly said. She paced back and forth, admiring herself in the full-length mirror.
‘Excuse me, Kimberly,” Mrs. Milton said frostily, “but I believe you interrupted Nancy.” ‘Oh, so I did. I apologize. Do go on, Nancy,” Kimberly said airily.
Bess ground her teeth as Nancy, taking a deep breath, continued, “I have just had a call about an urgent matter and I might not be available for rehearsal on the fourteenth. If I let you know by the evening of the thirteenth, will that be time enough?”
“Well, yes,” Mrs. Milton said in disappointment. “But I’m terribly distressed! to think you might not be our queen.” She looked at Kimberly. “We all feel that way, don’t we?”
“Crushed,” the girl said, lifting one shoulder and gazing over it at Nancy. “I’m simply crushed. But, of course, your business must come first.”
“It’s not business,” Bess flared.. “Nancy has to help a friend who’s in trouble. That’s something you wouldn’t understand!”
“Now, now!” Mrs. Milton said sharply. “No more of that.”
With a haughty sweep, Kimberly disappeared behind the curtain again. Bess murmured an apology to Mrs. Milton and excused herself to do some shopping, telling Nancy she would get home on her own.
After settling a few details, Nancy said good-bye to Mrs. Milton and walked back to the parking lot, where she had left her car.
She was about to open the door when she was startled by a voice from the back seat.
“Hi, Nancy. Boy, you were gone a long time.” Nancy saw a smiling face with big, green eyes, freckles, and a mop of bright red hair. It belonged to a young girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old. She was arefoot and wore faded overalls and a rough boy’s shirt.
“I’m Midge Watson. And I’ve been waiting for you because I’m your new assistant!” Nancy’s mouth dropped open. “What!”
“You do need an assistant, Nancy. All great detectives have assistants. Look at Sherlock Holmes. He had Dr. Watson. Well, my name is Watson, too.” The girl giggled.
Nancy recovered from her surprise and leaned forward with both hands on the car door. “Well, Miss Watson, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong detective. I don’t need an assistant and I certainly didn’t advertise for one.”
“Aw, Nancy.”
“That’s final,’ Nancy said. She motioned the girl out of the back seat, got in the car and turned the key. Then she looked at the sad little face. “Where do you live, Midge?”
“On the north side.”
“That’s a long way from here. How did you get downtown?”
“Hitched a ride on the back of a truck.” Nancy shook her head in disapproval.
“You’re kidding!”
“Well, I couldn’t afford the bus fare. I have an old secondhand bike that Morton the mechanic gave me, but it’s broken—so what could I do?” “I suppose you were planning to hitch a ride back the same way.”
“Guess so.”
“Does your mother know you travel like this?” Nancy asked.
“My mom died.”
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry, Midge. And your father?”
“Dad’s at home.”
“Get in,” Nancy said. “I’ll take you there.” Midge giggled cheerfully and jumped in the front seat. “Thanks, Nancy,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
As they drove away, Midge renewed her pleas. “Are you sure you couldn’t use me? I’m awfully good.”
“Obviously, you have some interesting qualities,” Nancy said. “You’re confident . . . you have a nice smile .
. . you speak well. . ."
“Does that mean if I talk some more, you may say yes?”
Nancy sighed. “I suppose I can’t stop you from talking.”
“Okay,” Midge bubbled. “In the first place, I can lick almost anybody on the north side who’s anywhere near my height and weight. I mean I can lick girls, boys, cats, dogs, even mountain lions.”
Nancy laughed in spite of her determination not to.
“Not only that,” Midge continued, feeling encouraged, “I can track and trail anything that walks, crawls, runs, or rolls. I’d have won a merit badge for tracking, but they kicked me out of the Girl Scouts.”
“Why?”
“For fighting.”
“For fighting? That’s no way to settle anything, Midge. It only works against you.”
Her companion lowered her eyes as Nancy continued. “You know, most detective work depends on sensitivity. You need the ability to observe things other people miss. You must put together clues that often seem to have no connection. You’d te surprised how often a polite manner succeeds when a rude one fails— especially since it is so important in this job to get along with people, such as witnesses and the police, and—”
“Hmm, I see, ’ Midge said suddenly. “That’s one of the reasons I want to be your assistant— so you can teach me to act more polite!”
Nancy glanced at the girl and grinned. “Now tell me more about your detective qualities.” “Well, I can drive a car.”
“What? But you can’t be more than thirteen.” “I’m fourteen. Almost fifteen,” Midge said. “Still, you’re not allowed to drive a car in this state until you’re sixteen.”
The girl pouted. “Well, if you won’t let me drive your car, I could be your mechanic. I can fix things. I know how to change tires, take care of the battery, and I can start a car without a key.”
“That’s what thieves do.”
“I never stole anything in my whole life,” Midge replied indignantly.
