Update on Crime

  Chapter

  One

  NANCY, I can’t believe it! That outfit makes you look just like a real anchorwoman!” Bess Marvin said, staring at Nancy Drew’s reflection in the dressing room mirror.

  “You think it’s okay?” Nancy asked. She turned to get a better view of the jewel-toned suit she was trying on. It was a lot more formal than the clothes she usually wore. The sapphire woolen jacket and skirt matched her eyes and contrasted beautifully with her strawberry blond hair. The cream-colored silk blouse complemented her rosy complexion.

  “Definitely,” Bess said, nodding decisively. “I can’t believe you’re heading off to a glamorous TV job, while I’m stuck flipping burgers in this ugly thing,” she added, smoothing a candy-striped ruffle on her pink-and-brown skirt. “These horizontal stripes must make me look at least five pounds heavier. If I didn’t have to earn some money for the holidays, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a nightmare uniform like this.”

  Nancy had picked up Bess from her waitressing job at a café in their hometown of River Heights. Bess hadn’t had time to change out of her uniform before they headed to the stores in the mall, where they were now.

  “You look great in anything, Bess,” Nancy said. “Besides, I’ll be working at Channel Nine to solve a mystery, not to soak up the glamour.”

  “And you’ll get to work with that handsome anchorman, Hal Taylor.” Bess sighed. “Now, there’s a guy I could flip burgers for! He’s got those incredible dimples and that cute little cleft in his chin—m-m-mm!”

  “I guess his kind of glamour won’t be too hard to take,” Nancy laughingly admitted as she changed out of the suit and reached for her jeans.

  “George is going to die when she hears you’re working there,” Bess added.

  George Fayne, Bess’s cousin and polar opposite, was in California for a tennis tournament. Whereas George was dark-haired and athletic, Bess was fair and petite and preferred shopping to swimming any day of the week. But both girls were fans of the handsome anchorman.

  “Anyway, you have to promise to introduce me to Hal Taylor,” Bess continued. “But not when I’m wearing polyester. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly.”

  “I promise,” Nancy agreed. “There’s only one problem, though. You seem to have forgotten that Hal and his co-anchor, Marilyn Morgan, are a major romantic item.” On camera and off, the Channel 9 anchor team of Hal Taylor and Marilyn Morgan were the most famous couple in River Heights.

  “Items can be exchanged, can’t they?” Bess said mischievously, arching a blond eyebrow.

  Nancy laughed as she pulled on her V-neck sweater. “You’re hopeless, Bess,” she teased.

  The two girls gathered up the clothes Nancy had selected. Silk blouses, navy blazer, beige skirt—all the outfits were standard working gear for a television reporter.

  “It almost seems silly to buy this stuff,” Nancy said, “since my cover at the station is only as a reporter-trainee on their special training program. I certainly won’t be going on the air.”

  Bess hung a rejected skirt back on its hanger, then turned to Nancy. “So did the guy from the station tell you what exactly the big mystery is at WRVH-TV?” Those were the call letters of Channel 9. “What was his name again?”

  “Otto Liski, the news producer,” Nancy replied. “He’s a friend of my dad. I haven’t found out the whole story yet, but it sounds like it could be serious. Evidently someone is trying to drive Hal Taylor off the air. He’s been receiving threatening notes, phone calls, that sort of thing.”

  “I can’t believe that someone would try to harm Hal,” Bess said.

  Nancy shrugged. “When Dad heard that Hal was in trouble, he suggested that they contact me. Mr. Liski’s going to fill me in on what’s been happening at the station when I arrive for my first day of work tomorrow.”

  Bess looked worried as they left the dressing room and walked to the department store cash register. “Just be careful, Nan, okay? This assignment sounds like it could be dangerous for you as well as for Hal.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time, but so far nothing really terrible has happened,” Nancy reassured Bess as she handed her charge card to the saleswoman. “I just have to find out who’s behind the threats before he—or she—does something really dangerous.”

  At eighteen, Nancy already had dozens of successful cases under her belt. Her crime-busting skills had made her famous as an amateur sleuth.

  “Let’s get going,” Nancy said, gathering her shopping bags. “If we hurry we might be able to catch the beginning of the six o’clock news.”

  Twenty minutes later the two friends raced up the steps to Nancy’s house. Just as they reached the front door, it opened, and the Drews’ housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, walked out.

  “Lasagna’s in the microwave, Nancy,” Hannah said, smiling at the girls. “I’m on my way to play bingo at the church.” She pointed to a green feathered cap on her head. “See? I’m wearing my lucky hat!”

  “Hope you win this time, Hannah,” Nancy said, smiling fondly at the older woman. The cheerful, bustling housekeeper was more like a member of the family than an employee. She had lived with Nancy and her father, Carson Drew, ever since Nancy’s mother passed away, when Nancy was very young.

  Inside the house, Nancy clicked on the hall light. Out of habit she looked toward her father’s book-lined study. Then she remembered that he had been called away unexpectedly on an overnight business trip. The girls headed for the kitchen.

  “Ooh, lasagna.” Bess peered through the glass door of the microwave. “I really shouldn’t, but it looks so good. And so fattening.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of the lasagna diet, Bess?” Nancy joked, popping open a can of soda. “You lose five pounds the first week.”

  “Don’t I wish.” Her friend sighed. Bess worried constantly about her weight, even though her petite, curvy figure looked perfect to everyone else.

  Nancy set the microwave’s timer, and soon the spicy aroma of tomato sauce was wafting through the house. She quickly tossed a green salad, while Bess assembled the dinner trays and utensils. A few minutes later, the two girls carried their trays into the living room and set them down on the coffee table in front of the Drews’ couch.

  Nancy clicked on the television set with the remote control. In a second, the sleek, modern anchor desk of the Channel 9 news studio filled the screen. Chisel-jawed Hal Taylor and co-anchor Marilyn Morgan sat side by side at the anchor desk. At the far corner of the desk sat sports reporter Mike Murphy, wearing one of the brightly colored ties he was known for. Off to one side was a large weather map that was covered with tiny clouds and suns, indicating the area’s weather pattern.

  Hal Taylor wore an elegantly tailored charcoal suit. Marilyn Morgan wore a dark purple suit, with a gold pin and gold earrings that accentuated her blond hair. Hal Taylor led off the newscast.

  “Good evening, I’m Hal Taylor. Here’s what’s happening in the news today. . . .” he began in his deep, baritone voice.

  “Just think, Nancy,” Bess said, her eyes on the TV screen. “Tomorrow you’ll be working with him.”

  Nancy wasn’t star-struck by nature, but suddenly she found her heart skipping a beat at the thought of working with the strikingly handsome anchorman. Not that she would forget about her longtime boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, she reminded herself sternly.

  Just the thought of Ned’s broad shoulders and warm brown eyes brought a softness to Nancy’s eyes. She felt a tingle go up her spine as she remembered the last time she had visited Ned at Emerson College, where he was a student. His powerful arms had wrapped around her waist, and when he kissed her . . .

  Better get back to business, Nancy thought. She forced herself to concentrate on the news broadcast. br />
  When Hal and Marilyn weren’t introducing news stories, they kept up a steady stream of chitchat. Nancy winced when they switched directly from a murder story to the station’s smiling weatherman, who told a lame joke.

  “I guess that’s why they call it ‘happy talk’ news,” Nancy commented, shaking her head.

  “ ‘Stupid talk’ would be more like it,” Bess replied indignantly. “I never realized how ridiculous they sound sometimes.” She took a bite of salad. “Anyway, happy talk doesn’t seem to suit Hal tonight,” she observed. “He looks kind of uncomfortable, don’t you think? I’ve never seen him act that way before.”

  Bess was right. Underneath the slick surface of the broadcast, Nancy detected a current of tension. Marilyn was sitting stiff as a statue, and Hal definitely looked ill at ease. Between news stories, he kept looking off to the side, as if he expected to see someone lurking there.

  Nancy leaned forward alertly. “Do you think Hal received another warning this afternoon?” she asked.

  “Beats me,” said Bess. She turned briefly from the screen to look at Nancy. “Why do you suppose they haven’t announced anything directly about the death threats?” she wondered aloud. “Isn’t that newsworthy?”

  “The station managers want to keep the situation quiet so people won’t know how vulnerable Hal is,” Nancy told her. “That’s why they haven’t even called in the police yet. I wonder if—”

  Suddenly Nancy and Bess heard a loud crash coming from somewhere inside the news studio. Hal Taylor’s expression seemed to freeze with fear.

  “What’s happening to Hal?” Bess cried anxiously. As they watched, Hal stumbled over the words he was reading. Then the television screen went completely black!

  Chapter

  Two

  AN INSTANT AFTER Hal’s image disappeared, a message flashed onto the television screen: “Stand by, please. The station is experiencing technical difficulties.”

  “What do you think happened, Nan?” Bess asked. “Hal looked really scared just before the picture zapped out.”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll bet that crash we heard was a lot more than ‘technical difficulties,’ ” Nancy said, feeling a bubble of unease. She grabbed her address book and reached for the phone that was on an end table next to the couch. “Maybe I can find out what happened by calling the station.”

  On her first try, Nancy got a busy signal. She was about to dial again when the news program reappeared on the screen. This time Marilyn Morgan was sitting by herself at the anchor desk. Hal was nowhere to be seen!

  Marilyn apologized for the interruption, an icy expression frozen onto her attractive features. She explained that Hal had been called away to cover a breaking news story and that he would return to anchor the eleven o’clock news.

  “She’s certainly putting on a smooth performance,” Nancy said to Bess. “But I’m not buying her explanation.”

  “You’re right, Nancy,” Bess agreed. “Hal looked white as a sheet before he disappeared—obviously something happened to him.”

  Marilyn’s composure was absolute as she continued with the newscast. Nancy wondered how the woman could stay so frosty-cool under the circumstances.

  Reaching for the phone again, Nancy quickly dialed another telephone number for the station that Otto Liski had given her. It took several minutes for him to come to the phone—obviously things were hectic behind the scenes at the station. When he finally came on the line, he sounded harried.

  “Nancy—I’m glad you called,” Liski said distractedly. “Hal’s okay, but we had to cut the broadcast signal because someone slipped in a weird tape that almost got on the air.”

  “Weird?” Nancy echoed. “In what way?”

  “It was a tape of someone in disguise threatening Hal’s life,” Liski said. “It kind of shook him up, so he left for the night.”

  “I’ll be right over,” Nancy said quickly.

  “It can wait until tomorrow,” Liski told her. “I’ve locked the tape up. Besides, if you came over without explanation, the staff here might not buy the intern cover we’ve arranged for you.”

  Mr. Liski was right, Nancy realized. After thanking the producer for his information, she hung up the phone.

  “What happened to Hal?” Bess asked anxiously.

  “He’s okay,” Nancy reassured her. “They had to cut the broadcast to prevent some kind of threatening tape from being aired. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out the details.”

  “Call me at the restaurant and let me know what happened,” Bess said.

  A short while later, Nancy said good night to Bess, then carried the shopping bags with her new wardrobe up to her room. But as she put the clothes away, her mind wasn’t on fashion. Someone was out to get Hal Taylor. Nancy only hoped she could find out who it was before the person did any serious harm.

  • • •

  Bright and early Thursday morning Nancy pulled her blue Mustang into the Channel 9 parking lot.

  The news station was housed in an old-fashioned brick building, with graceful white columns ringing the main entrance. Only the battery of antennae and satellite dishes on the roof made it look like a television station.

  As she parked next to a Channel 9 news van, Nancy noticed a young man standing beside the van’s open sliding door. He appeared to be in his early twenties, and he was struggling under the weight of the camera he was unloading from the van.

  Nancy got out of her Mustang, then smoothed the beige woolen skirt she had on beneath her coat. She was also wearing the navy blazer she and Bess had picked out the day before. “Can I give you a hand?” she asked, smiling at the freckle-faced guy. “I’m Nancy Drew, the new intern.”

  “Marcus Snipes, and thanks a lot,” the young man said gratefully. He handed her a stack of videotapes, then balanced the camera on his shoulder. “I’m an intern, too. You have no idea how heavy this stuff gets after a while.”

  Marcus led the way up the steps to the station’s lobby, where a receptionist checked Nancy’s ID and handed her an identification badge and a parking sticker for her car.

  “That’ll get you in and out of the station,” Marcus explained. “Security’s been pretty tight here since all the trouble started.”

  “Trouble like last night’s broadcast?” Nancy asked. Marcus nodded. “What exactly happened?” she prodded.

  Marcus lowered his voice as they walked down a long hallway. “Some kind of tape threatening Hal Taylor was played over the preview monitor—that’s a closed-circuit TV that shows what’s about to go over the air,” he explained.

  “What was the crash that we heard?” Nancy asked.

  “The producer saw the tape coming over the monitor,” Marcus said. “He moved so fast to cut the broadcast that he knocked over a tripod.”

  At least that hadn’t been anything dangerous, Nancy thought. “Do you have any idea what was on the tape?”

  Marcus shook his head. “No, but whatever it was had Hal pretty shaken up.” He glanced around uneasily as they approached the entrance to the newsroom. “All I know is they’re saying it had to be an inside job. Only someone with easy access to the station could have rigged something like that.”

  As Nancy followed Marcus into the newsroom, she paused for a moment to look around. The large, brightly lit room bustled with activity. Along one wall, an assignment editor was posting story assignments on a chalkboard. Here and there at the desks in the center of the room, reporters were hunched over computers, intently pounding out their stories. Others strode toward a row of tiny booths at the far end of the room.

  “Those are the editing booths—that’s where they put the news stories together,” Marcus explained, following Nancy’s gaze. “The reporter lays down the sound track, then the videotape editor adds the pictures and natural sound from the tape we shoot out in the field.”

  Nancy was impressed by the energy level in the room. “It looks so exciting,” she said.

  “It is exciting,”
Marcus agreed as he took the pile of tapes back from Nancy. “Ever since I was a little kid I knew I wanted to work in TV. And now I’m doing it!” After showing her where to hang her coat, he pointed across the newsroom to an office that was separated from the newsroom by a glass wall. “That’s Otto Liski’s office over there—he’s the news producer. Good luck on your first day.” With a smile, he was off to the other side of the newsroom.

  I’ll need a lot more than luck, Nancy thought, heading toward the producer’s office. She looked through the glass wall and recognized Hal Taylor, who was sprawled in an armchair next to a messy desk. A tall, rangy man in his midthirties was sitting on the edge of the desk. Nancy guessed that he must be Otto Liski. He was questioning a curly haired young woman who stood before him. She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  “We’re not accusing you of anything, Valerie,” Nancy heard Otto Liski say through the open doorway. “We just want to know how that tape could have been slipped in.”

  “I swear I don’t know,” Valerie said, burying her face in her hands. “It just appeared somehow in the pile scheduled for broadcast. I thought it was a last-minute story.”

  “Mr. Liski?” Nancy interrupted, pausing in the doorway. The producer looked up as she stepped into the office. “I’m Nancy Drew, the new intern,” she said, emphasizing the word intern slightly. Only Otto Liski and Hal Taylor were to know of her true mission at the station.

  Mr. Liski brightened at the sight of Nancy. “Yes! Good to see you. That’ll be all, Valerie,” he said to the girl, who looked relieved as she hastened out of the office. The producer closed the door behind her.

  “Hal Taylor, this is Nancy Drew. She’s the private detective I told you about,” Mr. Liski said.

  Hal grinned and shook Nancy’s hand. She couldn’t help noticing his famous dimples.

  “You’re pretty young and gorgeous to be a private eye, aren’t you?” he said.

  Nancy felt her pulse quicken involuntarily as she looked into his crystal green eyes. Hal Taylor certainly has looks and charm to spare, she thought.