Raising one arm, he made an arc in the air. “Pirates
Raid the Inner Harbor.' I think it'll make a great
headline.”
“Only it won't be true,” Nancy said quickly, though
she wasn't sure herself.
Mascelli jerked his thumb toward the police officers.
“It is according to the quote' I just got from them,” he
said. With a triumphant grin, he strode across the
waist, waving cheerfully to the startled police officers.
“Who was that?” Weller said, coming over to Nancy.
“Joseph Mascelli, ace reporter,” she muttered.
Weller shook his head. “I thought I recognized him.
That means we'd better work fast. I don't want
tomorrow's news sending our thief into hiding.”
Rejoining the other officers, he led them up to the
quarterdeck. Nancy pushed her hair behind her ears.
Her investigating had turned up something all right.
Too bad it wasn't going to help solve the case.
“Selena, you're a pirate, not a beauty queen,”
Andrew told the star during dress rehearsal two hours
later. The officers had spent the morning interviewing
everyone involved with the film. When they'd left,
Nancy had asked Detective Weller if he'd discovered
anything, but he'd tersely replied, “No comment.”
“You're supposed to look messy, Selena,” Andrew
continued. “For three weeks you've been on board a
ship with no shower, wearing the same clothes.”
Selena wrinkled her nose. She and George were
standing at the ship's wheel, pretending to be
navigating through a storm. Both wore their costumes.
Nancy thought George looked great. She wore a red
scarf tied around her head and knotted in the back, a
loose linen shirt, and baggy breeches held up by a sash
around her waist. A pistol and dagger were tucked into
the sash.
“That's gross!” Selena exclaimed with a toss of her
long ponytail. “I don't care what the real Mary Read
was like. I refuse to look like an old man and smell like
an old fish.”
Nancy laughed along with the rest of the cast and
crew. After several hours of police interviews, everyone
needed a chuckle.
All morning Andrew had groused about the delay.
Then Detective Weller had taken the director into the
Great Cabin for an interview. Fifteen minutes later,
Andrew had stormed out. Nancy was dying to ask what
had made him so angry, but she hadn't been able to get
him alone.
“You know, Andrew,” Janie said, striding up to
Selena, “it can't hurt to have her looking slightly
gorgeous.” She pulled out the rawhide tie from
Selena's ponytail and fluffed the actress's hair so the
wind caught it.
Selena frowned pensively as she gazed out to sea.
The effect was perfect. Nancy thought she looked
exotic and slightly dangerous.
Janie stepped back and made a rectangle with her
fingers. “Picture this shot on a publicity poster.”
“You're right, Janie,” Andrew said with a smile. “I
guess that's why I hired you for my production
manager.”
“And because I'm working for free,” Janie added
saucily.
Everybody laughed—everybody except George,
Nancy noticed. George looked slightly disgruntled. Not
that Nancy blamed her. For the last hour, Selena had
purposefully upstaged her, reciting her lines with such
Shakespearian passion that Daniel had finally yelled,
“You're a ruthless pirate, Selena. Not Juliet.”
Going up to her friend, Nancy whispered, “Hang in
there, George. You're doing great.”
“All right, let's try that again,” Andrew said. “Take it
from the line where Anne Bonny says, All hands
aloft!'“
“Mr. Wagner!” a loud voice interrupted. Nancy
turned to see a small group of people charging across
the deck. She glanced at Andrew. One more delay and
he might explode.
But the director had hopped off his stool and was
approaching the woman in front with his hand
outstretched. “Ms. Weems? I'm delighted you're here.”
Delighted? Nancy raised her brows. Behind Ms.
Weems, a man carried a heavy camera on his shoulder,
a WCBN news logo on his shirt.
“A TV station?” she heard Daniel boom behind her.
Scowling, Daniel strode across the deck to join his
brother. From the expression on his face, Nancy
figured he had no idea what his twin was up to.
“More publicity?” George asked, coming up beside
Nancy. “After the police were here all morning, we're
already going to be in the headlines.”
“Looks like it,” Nancy agreed. “Only Ms. Weems
was definitely invited.”
Just then Selena sashayed past. “Ooh, a camera.
That's my cue to make a grand entrance.”
“I'd like to give her an entrance—down a long plank
into the ocean,” George growled when Selena was out
of earshot.
Nancy burst out laughing. “Don't tell me my friend
George Fayne is jealous.”
“Not jealous—frustrated.” George pulled off her
scarf and wiped her sweaty brow. “I'm really trying to
do a good job. I've read so much about pirates, I dream
about them. But Selena's making every scene sound
like something from a bad romance.”
“Nancy! George! I want you to meet Maria Weems
of WCBN-TV. We're going to be featured on the
network's What's Happening' segment tomorrow
night.”
Andrew walked around, introducing the rest of the
cast. “Ms. Weems is going to be interviewing and
taping us this afternoon,” he explained.
George leaned closer and whispered to Nancy,
“Gee, I can't imagine why. Do you think they would
have been the least bit interested in us if the
Harborside hadn't been robbed?”
“Just what I was thinking,” Nancy said.
“Oh, the production has been cursed from the
beginning,” Nancy heard someone say behind her. She
twisted around to see Selena leaning against the ship's
wheel, her hair artfully arranged around her shoulders.
The cameraman was taping her while a younger man
asked questions.
“Not that I believe the crew when they suggest the
ghost of Blackbeard is involved.” Cocking her head,
Selena smiled winningly at the camera. “You'll have to
ask Karl Kidd about that. He's the actor portraying the
ruthless villain.”
“That's me!” Karl boomed as he strode across the
deck. “Ask me anything you want about pirates. I'm a
walking encyclopedia.”
The cameraman turned toward him, and Selena
frowned. She waltzed over to Karl, linked arms with
him, and beamed at the lens.
“That woman has more moves than a hula dancer,”
George said with a chuckle. “I think she'd do anything
for attention.”
“Anything?” Nancy repeated.
George's eyes widened as if she realized what Nancy
was getting at. “No . . . you can't possibly think—”
“That Selena robbed the rooms last night?” Nancy
shook her head. “No, but I do believe she's taking full
advantage of it. Since she's staying at the hotel, she
could have easily heard about the burglaries. What if
she sneaked down and saw the doubloons?”
“And made the anonymous tip.” George finished
Nancy's thought.
“Tips,” Nancy clarified. She told George about
finding Mascelli in the ship. “He said someone called
the newspaper this morning as well.”
“Wow. We'll definitely be front-page news,” George
said. “If Selena was the tipster, she'd get exactly what
she craves—publicity.”
“Right.” Nancy's gaze shifted to Andrew, who was
escorting Maria Weems around the quarterdeck as if
she were a queen.
He's just as crazy about publicity as Selena is, Nancy
thought. She knew he was worried continually about
money. Could he be behind the thefts?
It was a definite possibility, Nancy decided. He
could have burglarized the rooms for much-needed
cash, then cleverly left the doubloons, hoping the
police would trace them to the film. Instant cash,
instant publicity—not bad for one night's work.
6. A Daring Heist
“We're never going to get this scene shot if these TV
people hang around,” Daniel grumbled as he came
over, interrupting Nancy's thoughts. In his costume as
Calico Jack Rackham, he looked just as authentic as
George. He wore a tricornered hat, a red bandanna
around his neck, loose green pants with a yellow sash,
and a frayed naval uniform jacket. Around his chest he
had a gun-belt with a pistol tucked into it.
“And it doesn't look as if Andrew cares,” George
said, sounding puzzled.
“That is odd,” Nancy agreed.
Daniel grunted. Untying the bandanna, he squirted
water on it from a bottle he was carrying. “Newspeople
are like hawks,” he said, wiping his neck and cheeks
with the wet cloth. “Circling for the big kill.”
“You had nothing to do with setting up the
interviews?” Nancy asked.
“No way. They'll just distract the crew, misquote the
cast, and get their facts wrong.”
A sharp voice drew Nancy's attention away from
Daniel. Janie was facing Andrew, poking him in the
chest with one finger, an angry expression on her face.
Because they were on the other side of the
quarterdeck, Nancy couldn't hear what Janie was
saying.
“What's that all about?” George asked.
Daniel shook his head. “Andrew must have ordered
her around one too many times.”
“Everybody's tense,” Nancy said, though she
couldn't help but wonder what had caused Janie to
blow up. The production manager worked hard to stay
professional. With all the strange things going on,
Nancy decided she'd better have a talk with Janie.
“We'll be back late,” George told Nancy as she
checked her hair in the hotel room mirror one more
time.
“What are you and Daniel going to do after dinner?”
Nancy asked, zipping up her denim skirt.
George turned to face her. “We're going to Fort
McHenry, then we'll walk back along the wharf. It's a
beautiful night, and we need someplace quiet to
practice our lines. So, how do I look?”
Nancy grinned. As always, her friend was dressed
casually in jeans, but she'd added dangling earrings,
sandals, and a colorful vest. “You look like Daniel's
fashion sense rubbed off on you.”
George grinned, obviously pleased with Nancy's
response. “What are you and Janie going to do?” she
asked as she snapped her fanny pack around her waist.
“I'm treating her to dinner at the hotel,” Nancy said.
“She needs a little TLC after today.”
“Good idea,” George said, waving goodbye as she
left.
Fifteen minutes later Nancy and Janie were seated
in the hotel restaurant at a table overlooking the Inner
Harbor. Janie had put on a one-piece red dress. Her
straight brown hair was smoothed behind her ears and
pinned with a butterfly barrette.
“You look great tonight,” Nancy commented as she
opened her menu.
Janie shrugged. “Not that anybody will notice.”
“Oh? Were you hoping someone in particular would
notice?” Nancy teased lightly.
“No. It's just that hanging around Selena, I feel
invisible. Guys look right through me.”
“Hey, Nancy and . . . ?” Scott came up, his order pad
in hand.
Nancy smiled. “This is Janie Simms, the production
manager on the film. George and one of the other
actors are out sightseeing and practicing lines.”
Scott's eyes lit up. “Nice to meet you, Janie. As far as
I'm concerned, being a production manager is the best.
So much control. So much responsibility.”
“So much grief,” Janie added with a sigh. “If the
crew doesn't like the food, they complain to me. If the
cast doesn't like the schedule, they complain to me. If
the director needs a scapegoat ...” Her voice trailed off.
“Sounds like a fun job,” Scott joked.
“Scott's interested in filmmaking,” Nancy said.
suggested. “The Good Morning Baltimore show is
going to be taping it for one of their programs.”
“Count me in,” Scott said. “You guys are famous,
you know. Today you were splashed all over the front
page of every newspaper. Pretty exciting, huh?” He
glanced back and forth at Nancy and Janie as he spoke,
then said in a low voice, “The word around the hotel is
that the thief had a master key card to break into the
guests' rooms.”
Nancy pricked up her ears. She'd never thought
about pumping Scott about the thefts. Now she
realized what a perfect source he would be.
“Then the thief had to have a link with the hotel,”
Nancy guessed.
Scott pointed his pad at her and said, “That's what
the police think. Yesterday afternoon they interrogated
everybody from laundry workers to waitpersons.”
“So we weren't the only ones harassed,” Janie said
with a snort.
Nancy stared at her menu, her thoughts on Scott's
news. Had the police uncovered any new evidence
about the burglaries? she wondered.
After the two gave Scott their dinner orders, Nancy
asked Janie, “What do you think about Detective
Weller's accusation that one of the cast or crew
members is the thief?”
“I think it's baloney,” Janie stated firmly. “I know
everybody working on the film. We've either worked
together before, or I went to school with them.”
“Even Karl Kidd?” Nancy asked.
“We worked on a Shakespeare production together.
Karl's a little wacky, but he's no thief.”
“Mind if I ask what you and Andrew were arguing
about this afternoon?”
With a sigh, Janie slumped back in her seat. “The
same thing we always argue about—money. Yesterday
Andrew worried over every delay. Then today he
invites the TV crew onboard. We lost several hours of
filming. Tomorrow he's got the morning show coming.
I reminded him that we can't afford any more delays.
He basically told me to shut up.”
Nancy listened carefully, taking it all in. It sounded
as though her hunch about Andrew was right. It would
explain why he had done such an about-face on the
money issue.
“Your salad has arrived,” Scott announced. With a
dramatic swoop of his arm, he set Nancy's plate on the
table, knocking her purse onto the floor.
“Oops. Sorry,” he apologized, stooping to pick it up.
Nancy laughed. “When Scott visits tomorrow, Janie,
you'd better keep a close eye on him. We don't need
another person falling overboard!”
When they had finished dinner, Nancy suggested
catching the concert at Pier Six.
“Thanks, but I'd better head back to my room,”
Janie said. Janie and several of the other crew members
were staying at a smaller, budget hotel several blocks
away.
“It's been a lo-o-ng day.” Dropping her napkin on
the table, Janie stood up. “Thanks so much for dinner.
I needed a break.”
“Glad I could treat you. See you tomorrow.” Nancy
watched her friend leave, then leaned back and waited
for the check. Janie's information about Andrew was
certainly incriminating. She wondered if Detective
Weller had uncovered information about the film's
money problems yet.
“A big tip for your thoughts,” Scott said, coming up
beside her. Nancy glanced up. He had such a friendly
smile on his face that she couldn't help smiling back.
“Actually, I was thinking I should give you a big tip
for your thoughts,” Nancy said. “What else are the
hotel employees saying about the thefts?”
“They're all saying I didn't do it!' ” he declared in a
mock-indignant voice, then laughed. “Really, I don't
know anything more. But if I hear anything else, I'll let
you know.”
“Thanks. And see you tomorrow,” Nancy added as