Make No Mistake Page 3
“I said I would,” she told him.
He took her jacket and hung it on a hook just inside the door next to his parka. Then Nancy followed him down a small hallway lined with closed doors. Nancy guessed they opened into closets—there really wasn’t room for much more.
Tony led Nancy into an office. The room was crammed with posters and buttons. A table against the wall was piled high with letters and envelopes and so was the only desk in the room.
“This is pretty much a one-man operation,” Tony explained. “I can’t afford to hire anyone full time, so I have to depend on volunteers.” He gestured around the empty office. “As you can see, they’re not always dependable.” Clearing off some posters that were on his desk chair, he offered Nancy the seat, while he leaned on the edge of the desk.
Nancy got right to the point. “You said you were convinced that the man at Glover’s Corners isn’t the real Matthew Glover.”
“That’s right—he’s not,” Tony replied.
“Do you have any evidence?”
Tony crossed his arms over his chest, and that dark, brooding look came back into his eyes. “Well, not hard evidence,” he told her. “But I know that guy is a phony.”
More opinion, Nancy thought. Opinion was a long way from being concrete proof. “Do you mean he doesn’t look like Matt or sound like him?” she prodded.
“Oh, he looks like Matt would look now, if Matt were alive, and he sounds the way I remember Matt’s voice. But he’s not Matt.”
“In other words, it’s just a feeling you have?” Nancy said, trying to keep her disappointment out of her voice. This was turning out to be a total waste of time.
Tony nodded. “It’s not just a feeling. It’s a gut feeling, as strong as they come.”
“Too bad they don’t allow gut feelings to be admitted as evidence in court,” she said. The words sounded more sarcastic than she had meant them to be, and Tony shot her an angry look.
“I’m sorry,” Nancy said quickly, “but if you could just think of what it is that makes you so sure he’s a fake, that would help. Was it the way he walked or some gesture he made? Matt was left-handed, according to my dad. I watched that guy yesterday, and he favored his left hand, too. But maybe there are some things like that that don’t fit. Can you think of anything?”
Tony raked his fingers nervously through his short blond hair. “I can’t think of anything specific, but I swear to you I’m right.”
Great, Nancy thought. Getting up from the chair, she told him, “I don’t see what you think I can do to help.”
He pounded his hand on the desk so hard that Nancy jumped. “Can’t you get to the truth about this guy?” he blurted out. Recovering himself, he went on more calmly. “I mean, you must have ways of working so that he wouldn’t suspect you.”
Nancy shook her head. “If he’s an impostor, he’ll suspect everyone. I’m sorry, but unless you can give me something more concrete to go on, there’s nothing I can do.” She stood up to leave.
Tony made a disgusted noise in his throat and turned away. Nancy walked out, casting a glance back over her shoulder. Tony’s face was set in an angry grimace.
• • •
Nancy was surprised to find her father home when she returned from Tony Giralda’s office. He was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of Hannah’s soup. Nancy sat with him.
“I thought you were going to be tied up with Matt Glover all day,” she said. “It’s only one-thirty.”
“I had to come back to pick up some papers,” Carson said, tipping his bowl to scoop up the last of the soup. “You know, Matt is coming through with flying colors so far,” he told her. “He signed an affidavit, and the signature compares well with Matt’s. There’s a slight difference, but handwriting changes over time. Of course, I’ll submit a sample of the writing to an expert, just to be sure.”
“Did he sign with his left hand?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, and he did it completely naturally.” Carson pushed the empty bowl away from him and then sighed. “Going over the writing samples could take a few days. It’s a touchy situation, so we have to be very careful. Clayton’s will is clear that his son is to inherit everything if he’s ever found. That’s usual in cases where a body hasn’t been recovered. If Matt hadn’t shown up, Glover’s money was to be split up among several charities.”
“He didn’t leave any to Mrs. Adams?” Nancy asked.
“Oh, there’s a nice bequest to Rosemary,” he said. “But the rest, which amounts to several million dollars, was to go to charity.”
“I suppose he left money to the hospital,” Nancy guessed.
“Yes. There’s also a large bequest to the hospital’s day-care center and several bequests to smaller organizations and businesses.”
A sudden idea occurred to Nancy. Leaning forward over the kitchen table, she asked, “I don’t suppose Tony Giralda’s Environmental Action group would be one of them?”
Carson was surprised. “Yes,” he said. “As a matter of fact, it is. How did you know?”
Nancy told her father about her visit to the Environmental Action office. “From the look of the place, I can bet he has a hard time making ends meet. But he’s incredibly devoted to his work. He seems practically fanatical about it.”
“A hefty bequest from Mr. Glover could be the answer to his financial problems,” Carson put in. “I see what you’re getting at, Nancy.”
Nancy’s blue eyes were wide. “Maybe Tony Giralda is fierce enough about his work to want to cheat the real Matt out of his legitimate inheritance!”
Chapter
Five
IT’S A POSSIBILITY, NANCY,” Carson told her. “There’s just one—”
Nancy didn’t hear because she had already jumped up from the table and was heading for the front door. “I can hardly wait to tell Bess and George,” she said excitedly as she grabbed her jacket from the closet. “See you later, Dad.”
She drove over and picked up Bess, and then they went directly to George’s.
“You mean Tony Giralda might be trying to frame Matt so he can get Mr. Glover’s money?” Bess said after Nancy had told them about her encounter with Tony and the bequest to his organization. “That’s disgusting!”
“Tony Giralda’s not the only one who might be cheating to get a piece of the Glover fortune, either,” Nancy went on. She explained her idea about Mrs. Adams coaching someone to play the role of Matt.
George brushed a hand through her short, dark curls and seemed extremely dubious. “I don’t know, Nan. She seemed harmless to me.”
“Maybe,” Nancy said. “The point is, whatever we’re dealing with, there may be more people involved in it than just Matt. I’m going to keep an eye on Tony Giralda and Mrs. Adams—and I think I need to check out Matt, too.”
“Where do we start?” George asked.
“Well, I’d like to check out Gary Page’s credentials at the Chicago Clarion,” Nancy suggested.
George looked at her watch. “If we leave right now, we could be back by early evening.”
“Well, I already believe Matt,” Bess said. “But if it’ll make you guys feel better, let’s go.”
Nancy frowned. “I wish we had a photo of him to take with us, to show the people at the paper.”
“No problem,” said Bess, blushing a little. “I just happen to have a very recent picture of him.” She fumbled in her purse and drew out an instant photo of Matt.
“Where did you get that?” Nancy and George asked at the same time.
“I went over to the Corners this morning,” Bess said, her whole face bright pink now. “When Matt called last night, he said I should feel free to stop by, so I did. Mrs. Adams was snapping pictures of Matt and gave me one.”
“Pretty good detecting, Bess,” Nancy joked. “It’s just what we need. Let’s go.”
Bess grinned. “And I thought I was just flirting!”
• • •
The light snow had let up, so the
three friends made good time. The Clarion offices were in the Loop, or downtown Chicago, and were in a building about five times as big as the one where the River Heights Morning Record was.
At the main receptionist’s desk they were directed to the sixth floor, where another receptionist asked them what they wanted.
“We’d like to speak to someone about a reporter who worked here until a few days ago,” Nancy said. “Gary Page.”
The receptionist spoke into a phone, then told them, “Ms. McCoy will be with you in a moment.”
They could hear heels tapping smartly down a hall, and then a tall woman with shoulder-length black hair came into the reception area. “I’m Sheila McCoy,” she said. “I was Gary’s editor—” She caught herself, then added, “I guess I should start calling him Matt Glover. I hope nothing’s happened to him?”
Nancy introduced herself and assured Sheila McCoy that he was fine. “How long had he worked for you?” Nancy asked as the editor led her, Bess, and George back to her desk in the newsroom.
“About a year. He came with excellent references from a paper in Iowa City. He was a good reporter, and I’ll miss him. They don’t grow on trees, you know.”
She opened a file and took out a cutting. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen any reporter with a better memory for detail. Here, this is a copy of one of the first stories he did for the Clarion. It’s about a local entrepreneur—kind of a rags-to-riches story.”
Nancy glanced at the article with the Gary Page byline but didn’t notice anything special about it. “What about his past?” she asked, looking up from the article. “Did Gary Page ever talk about his family or background?”
Sheila shook her head. “No,” she said. “He was very private. To say that he kept to himself would be an understatement.”
Pulling Bess’s photo from her purse, Nancy asked Sheila if it was a good likeness of Gary Page. This time Sheila’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this all about, anyway?” she asked.
“We’re, uh, working on an article for our local paper,” Nancy lied. “Matt Glover’s a real human-interest story back in River Heights— that’s where we’re from.”
The smile returned to Sheila’s face. “Well, good luck,” she told them. “Great shot,” she added after studying the picture. “Looks just like him.”
“May I keep this?” Nancy asked, holding up the article.
“Sure.” Sheila shook hands with them. “Say hello to Gary—I mean, Matt, for me.”
• • •
“Now we have all the proof we need,” Bess said, stirring her hot cocoa. After they’d left the Clarion, they had decided to stop at a diner for something to eat and drink before making the drive back to River Heights.
“Hold on,” Nancy said. “We need to find out a lot more.” She took a sip of her cocoa and stared out the window next to their booth. “All Sheila McCoy told us was that the man in the snapshot was the man she knew as Gary Page. That doesn’t mean the guy is really Matt Glover.”
“Well, at least he told the truth when he said he’d worked at the Clarion,” George said. She was flipping through the jukebox selections at their table.
Nancy pulled out the article the newspaper editor had given her and skimmed through it. It was dated a little over a year earlier and was about some man who had once been a gardener for a private estate. He had opened up a landscape gardening business in downtown Chicago and had become very successful.
“It’s very well written,” said Bess, reading over her shoulder.
There was a picture of the man, Jake Loomis, but since it was a photocopy, the picture was a blur. Nothing about the article was helpful, and Nancy folded it and put it back in her jacket pocket.
“You know,” George said, “that woman said something funny—about Gary Page being a loner.”
Nancy nodded. “I was wondering about that, too. I mean, what kind of guy never mentions anything about his background during a whole year? Sheila McCoy saw him practically every day, but she says she knows nothing about him.”
“Somebody might act like that if he planned to vanish,” George proposed, downing the last of her cocoa. “A man who planned to impersonate someone who was dead wouldn’t want people to know anything about him.”
“Oh, come on, you guys,” Bess cut in. “He had amnesia, remember. How could he tell anyone about his life? He didn’t know anything about it.”
Bess glanced out the diner window, and suddenly delighted surprise lit up her face. “Look!” she exclaimed. “There he is—in that phone booth!”
Following Bess’s gaze, Nancy immediately saw Matt’s unmistakable figure. He was speaking into a pay phone a few yards from the diner. There was a vintage sports roadster beside him, and Nancy recognized it as having belonged to Mr. Glover.
“What’s he doing here?” George wanted to know;
“We’ll know soon enough,” Bess said, waving out the window until she got his attention. “He’s coming over.”
Matt was wearing a broad grin as he hung up the phone and headed for the diner. “Hi, you guys,” he said cheerfully. He spoke to all of them, but Nancy noticed that he saved the fullest force of his deep blue eyes for Bess, and she was eating up the attention.
“What a treat,” he told her. “I get to see you twice in one day.” He leaned close to her and said jokingly, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
“Not if I can help it,” Bess returned, laughing.
Nancy glanced across the table at George, who rolled her eyes as if to say, “She’s really getting silly about this guy!”
Nancy knew just what George meant, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. “Um, I’ll be right back, you guys. I’m just going to the ladies’ room,” she said.
She gave George a meaningful look as she got up and was glad when George said, “I’ll come with you.”
“Can you believe it?” George said, leaning against the sink when she and Nancy were alone in the ladies’ room. “Bess adores that guy. She’s only just met him again—I mean, if he really is Matt—and she practically worships him.”
“I noticed Matt doesn’t seem to mind a bit,” Nancy added. “In fact, he seems to be egging her on. This could turn out to be a real disaster.”
George nodded. “I know what you mean. What if he is a phony and just using Bess to gain credibility?” Her brown eyes were filled with concern. “I’d hate to see her get hurt.”
Nancy nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of, too. For her sake, I hope Matt Glover really is who he says he is. Because if we prove that he’s not, it will break Bess’s heart.”
Chapter
Six
WHAT DO YOU THINK we should do?” George asked.
“I think we’d better hurry up and find out the truth about Matt. Come on,” Nancy said, reaching for the ladies’ room door. “Let’s get back to the table before Bess decides to elope with the guy!”
George laughed, but her expression became grim again when she and Nancy returned to their seats and saw the adoration written across Bess’s face.
“Uh-oh,” Nancy whispered. “We’d better break this up.”
She cleared her throat loudly as she and George sat down again. Matt and Bess broke off their conversation to acknowledge them.
“I have to tell you,” Nancy said to Matt, “that the reason we’re in Chicago is because of you.”
“Nancy!” Bess gasped, shocked. She looked nervously at Matt, obviously not wanting him to know they’d been snooping on him. Matt was staring in bewilderment at Nancy.
“It’s important for us to be honest with you, Matt,” Nancy explained. “We were checking up on you at the Clarion.”
“I told Nancy it wasn’t necessary,” Bess put in quickly.
Matt smiled at all of them. “Actually, I’m glad you checked up on me. I want you to trust me, and you’re right, Nancy, we have to be honest with one another.”
“Good,” said Nancy. “I’m glad we understand each other.”
“Then everyone will have to believe you,” said Bess.
He grinned at her again, then said, “Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”
“Like what?” Bess’s eyes were shining.
“Like ice skating. The temperature out there must have dropped ten degrees since noon. The pond at home should be nicely frozen over tonight. What would you all say to a moonlight ice-skating party?”
“Just like the old days,” Bess said.
“It’s a great idea,” Nancy said. The more they hung out with Matt, the more certain they could be that he was—or wasn’t—Mr. Glover’s son.
“Good.” Matt got up to go. “I have to get back to the Corners and sweep the pond for tonight. The car holds only two, I’m afraid. Would you like to ride back to River Heights with me, Bess?”
Nancy held her breath, hoping that her friend would refuse.
“Sure,” Bess replied breathlessly. “I’d love
• • •
“I’ll pick you up in an hour, after I check in at home,” Nancy told George as she dropped her off at her house.
After a quick hello to her father and Hannah, Nancy decided to go see Tony Giralda again. She had almost an hour before she had to pick up George and Bess, and she wanted to check out her theory that Tony might be trying to cheat Matt out of his inheritance.
Nancy changed her cable-knit sweater for a turtleneck and heavy ski sweater. She grabbed her skates and was almost out the door when the phone rang. She answered it in the kitchen.
“Ned!” she said, a smile lighting up her face when she heard her boyfriend’s voice on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”
“Still at school. That’s why I’m calling. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it out to see you this weekend. I’ve got a killer test on Monday, and I’ve got to stay here and study. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “But I hope you know you’ll have to make it up to me by being doubly sweet the next time you come, Nickerson.”