038 The Final Scene Read online

  Nancy and George searched the apartment for him, afraid of what they might find. After a few minutes they gave up looking.

  “I just hope he’s not hurt, considering the fight he must have put up,” Nancy said.

  “How can you tell he was in a fight? This could have been robbery or someone searching for something.”

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy said. “The place wasn’t searched. None of the drawers have been pulled out, and the cushions on the furniture are still in place. Besides, the VCR is still here. That’s one of the first things a burglar takes.”

  “You’re right,” George agreed. “And since Nicholas is nowhere to be seen, I wonder if maybe we have a second kidnap victim.”

  Just then there was a knock at the door. Both girls turned and called, “Come in.” Joseph Hughes entered, looking terribly worried.

  When he saw the condition of the room, he turned even more pale. “What happened?” he asked.

  “We don’t know for sure,” Nancy said, “but it looks as though Nicholas had some trouble.”

  Then Nancy found herself wondering what the elderly caretaker was doing there. “Is there some reason you’re here, Joseph?” she asked.

  “What?” Joseph stared at her as though in a daze. “Oh, I came here to check on Nicholas. The kids on the picket line were worried about him. He didn’t show up.”

  Joseph looked around the room again, then began to murmur to himself. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt. I never meant for—”

  “You never meant for what?” George asked, jumping on his words. “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

  “Nothing.” He closed his eyes and shook his head violently. “Nothing . . . I just meant that . . . ”

  He opened his eyes and looked around the room again, becoming more agitated by the moment. “Oh, Nicholas. If anything happens to that boy, it’ll be all my fault.”

  Nancy walked up to him and caught him by the arm. “Why, Joseph? Why would it be your fault?”

  Joseph looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. Then he seemed to realize what he had said. “Never mind,” he said, pulling out of her grasp. “Just never mind.”

  He backed away from her toward the bedroom, his hands in front of him as though he were warding off an evil spirit. Nancy wondered what she had said to set him off . . .

  Whirling around, Joseph raced into the bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it behind him.

  “Joseph, open up!” Nancy shouted as she pounded on the door. “George, get my purse. I need my picklock. Hurry.”

  George brought Nancy’s bag, and in a minute Nancy had found her tool, jimmied the lock, and opened the door.

  They raced into the room but found it empty.

  “Where is he?” George shouted.

  “Over there,” Nancy said, pointing. “The window’s open.”

  They ran to the window and squeezed through onto the fire escape. Far below they saw Joseph scurrying down the escape, nimbly jumping from one level to the next.

  There was no point in chasing him. He had too great a head start. They both watched the old man as he hit the ground running and disappeared down the nearest alley.

  They turned to each other, both of them thinking the same thing.

  Nancy was the first to say it. “He sure is spry for such an old fellow!”

  “Spry enough to climb around on a catwalk,” George observed.

  “Definitely.” Nancy ran back into the living room and grabbed her purse. “Come on. We’ve got to find Bart Anderson. We still can’t prove anything, but when we tell him about Joseph, he’ll just have to postpone that demolition!”

  • • •

  Fifteen minutes later the girls stood in Bart Anderson’s outer office.

  “I’m telling you for the third time, Mr. Anderson is out. Out. You know, not in.” His secretary bristled at Nancy and George as they stood in front of her desk, demanding to see her boss.

  “So, why is a dark blue Mercedes parked out front in his space?” Nancy asked. She found that her voice came out sounding far calmer than she felt.

  “I don’t know,” the secretary answered. “Maybe he went for a walk somewhere. But he isn’t here. I’ll have to ask you again to leave and stop pestering me. I have work to do.”

  To illustrate her point, she turned to the typewriter, slid in a piece of paper, and began to type furiously.

  “Come on, George. She obviously has her instructions not to let anyone see him.”

  At the door Nancy paused and said over her shoulder, “When you see Mr. Anderson, please tell him that we were here. And tell him we’ll be in touch again. Today.”

  As soon as Nancy and George were out in the hall, Nancy looked at her watch. “The best we can do is wait in our car to see if he shows up. But only for a couple of minutes. We should get to the theater to confront Joseph.”

  Minutes later they saw Bart Anderson walk out of his office building toward his blue Mercedes.

  “There he is,” George said. She started to open the car door.

  “Wait a minute, George,” Nancy said. She watched as Bart Anderson glanced nervously around before getting into his car.

  The girls ducked down, out of sight, below the dashboard.

  “He definitely looks like a man with something to hide.” Nancy peeked over the dashboard. “Let’s follow him and see what he’s up to.”

  George bit her lower lip. “You got it.” They fastened their safety belts.

  Ten minutes later, they turned off the main highway to follow the Mercedes down a narrow dirt road.

  “Where do you think he’s leading us?” George asked as she peered through the cloud of dust raised by the car in front of them.

  “Well find out pretty soon,” Nancy said. “This road can’t be very long. Wait, hold on. Look.” Anderson had stopped his car.

  “Let’s wait here until we see what he’s up to.” Nancy reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of miniature binoculars. “He’s going into a trailer,” she said. “It looks like one of those little portable offices that builders move from one construction site to another.”

  Nancy lowered the binoculars and looked at George. “We have to know what he’s doing in there,” she said.

  “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

  The girls left George’s car and sneaked up to the trailer. They circled the trailer until they came to the side where there was a tiny window.

  “What’s he doing?” George whispered as Nancy stood on her toes and looked inside.

  “You’re not going to believe this, George, but he’s got Nicholas!” Nancy exclaimed in a hushed voice. “He has him tied to a chair.”

  George craned her neck to see in. Both girls winced as they heard Anderson’s voice boom through the thin walls of the trailer.

  “I know you’ve got that girl,” he roared. “And if you don’t tell me where she is right now, I swear I’m going to kill you!”

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  WE’VE GOT TO HELP HIM!” George said, her eyes wide.

  “We’re going to,” Nancy answered. She quickly climbed the two steps leading to the door. Taking a deep breath, she threw the door open and charged inside.

  Bart Anderson was standing next to the tied-up Nicholas.

  “What’s going on here?” Nancy demanded.

  “Yeah, what do you think you’re doing to him?” George added indignantly.

  Nicholas opened his eyes wide. “Nancy, George, what are you doing here?” he asked. “But, hey, never mind why you’re here,” he added. “I’m just glad you are. This man is a lunatic.”

  “How did you—You followed me here, didn’t you?” Anderson said. “Why, I ought to call—”

  “No, you really shouldn’t,” Nancy said flatly.

  “Look, I was just trying to help you find your friend,” Anderson protested.

  “I don’t think you can solve one kidnapping by
committing another,” Nancy said.

  Nicholas looked extremely relieved as George worked on untying him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell this guy. He had his goons grab me at home. Then they brought me here and tied me to this chair.”

  Anderson could see that he was beat. He turned and stomped out of the trailer, slamming the door behind him.

  “That’s crazy!” George said. “Why kidnap you? Why not try to help us find Bess instead?”

  Nicholas shook his head. “I don’t know, except that it looks to me like Anderson’s running scared. He’s got a lot of money riding on being able to demolish that theater today.”

  “But he can’t if Bess is still in there,” Nancy concluded. “I’ll bet you anything that after I talked to Detective Ryan, he called Anderson to say there might be a delay.”

  “You’re probably right, Nancy,” George said, finally freeing Nicholas’s hands.

  He gingerly massaged his chafed wrists. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I did it.”

  “Because you have the perfect motive.”

  Nicholas quickly looked away from both of them.

  “Are you protecting someone, Nicholas?” Nancy asked. “Please, tell us.”

  She walked over to him and knelt beside his chair. “Is it your grandfather you’re protecting? Is he the one who took Bess?”

  Nicholas struggled with the words before he let them out. “I don’t know. I hope not, but he might be.”

  “What makes you think he might have done it?” George asked. “Because he loves the theater so much?”

  “No, it isn’t that.”

  “What is it?” George asked, probing.

  Nicholas took a deep breath. “Remember when Joseph got that phone call from the kidnapper? The one he told us about when we were all standing there in the lobby?”

  “Yes, of course,” Nancy said. “Go on.”

  “Well, Joseph said the kidnapper called the theater the Royal Palladium.”

  “And the theater hasn’t been called that for years. No one would call it that except someone who had been around in the old days,” Nancy finished for him.

  “Like your grandfather?” George asked.

  Nicholas nodded. “Like my grandfather.”

  “Or Joseph Hughes,” Nancy said. The pieces were beginning to come together. “Joseph is an old-timer, too. He might have called it that himself. We only have his word for it that there was a phone call at all.”

  “But Joseph couldn’t have kidnapped Bess,” George said. “He was making the introduction for the movie over the PA at the time. Remember, we heard it in the women’s dressing room.”

  “We heard Joseph’s voice, so we just assumed that he was in the sound booth at the time,” Nancy said. “But he could easily have made the tape ahead of time and rigged the PA system to play at the right moment.”

  “Do you really think Joseph would be capable of kidnapping someone just to save that building from destruction?” George asked.

  “I know Joseph,” Nicholas said. “He’s a good person.” He thought for a moment. “But he loves that theater more than anything. It’s possible he might do anything to save it.”

  “Of course,” Nancy said. “I should have thought of it before. That’s why Joseph’s been staying in the theater night and day.”

  “And he’s the one who found Bess’s earring!” George added. “Not only that, but I just realized something.”

  “What?” Nancy asked.

  “Joseph was the one who thought of searching the stage again yesterday, when we heard that tapping noise and found the room she had been in.”

  “He led you to it, George! He must have wanted us to know that she was still there!”

  Nancy found herself excited, worried, and relieved at the same time. If Joseph was the kidnapper, then they were on their way to finding Bess. If they still had time.

  The trailer door opened, and Bart Anderson stepped inside. He was wearing a broad grin that made Nancy uneasy. Anything that made Bart Anderson that happy had to be bad news.

  “I’ve just been on my car phone,” he told Nicholas, “and I pulled a few strings at City Hall. I had to cash in on some long-standing favors that I’m owed, but it was worth it.”

  “What was worth it?” Nancy asked, afraid she didn’t want to know.

  “I moved the demolition time up.”

  “You did what?” George exclaimed.

  Anderson smiled and pointed to the thin gold watch on his wrist. “That’s right. That building’s coming down in fifteen minutes. I don’t want any of this foolishness to interfere with my project. And the only way to stop it from interfering is to finally destroy the place.”

  “Fifteen minutes!” Nancy reached out and grabbed the front of Bart Anderson’s jacket. “We just solved the case. We know who kidnapped Bess. And now we’re sure that she’s still in there!”

  Anderson looked suspicious and doubtful. “Do you really? Or are you just trying to stall me again?”

  “It’s Joseph Hughes,” Nancy said. “It has to be.”

  “The janitor?” Anderson asked.

  “He’s a lot more than the custodian. Joseph is the soul of that theater,” Nancy said. Her heart was in her throat. She had to make him believe her.

  “Please, Mr. Anderson,” she continued, “I don’t have time to explain all the details to you now, but we really do have very strong reasons to suspect him. You’ve got to stop that demolition. Our friend is in that building. If they tear it down, she’ll die.”

  • • •

  Not more than five minutes later Anderson’s Mercedes was hurtling down the dirt road, sending a whirl of dust into the air.

  “Can’t you drive any faster?” George urged.

  “It won’t help your friend if we get ourselves killed before we get there,” he said grimly. But from the passenger seat, Nancy saw him press the accelerator closer to the floor and the speedometer jump another ten miles per hour.

  “Try to get your crew on the phone again,” Nancy suggested. “Or better yet, let me try. You’ve got your hands full driving.”

  She dialed the number he gave her, but there was still no answer.

  “That means they’re at the theater already,” Anderson said.

  “Do you think we’ll make it in time?” Nicholas asked, leaning forward from the back seat.

  “I don’t know. My crew is very efficient. Once they start, it won’t take them long to level the place.”

  Ten minutes later the Mercedes screeched to a halt in the theater parking lot. As the group piled out of the car, Nancy reached down to Anderson’s tape deck and grabbed a cassette tape out of it.

  “What’s that for?” Nicholas asked when he saw her shove it into her pocket.

  Nancy didn’t have time to explain that she would need it to bluff Joseph. She was already running toward the building. She followed Anderson as he raced toward his crew, who were assembled at the side of the building.

  “Hey! Stop! Hold it, you guys,” Bart shouted.

  But they couldn’t hear him above the noise of the machinery and the pickets’ cries of protests. To add to the bedlam, Brady, Deirdre, and Simon chose that moment to arrive. Seemingly from out of nowhere twenty screaming girls appeared and surrounded the stars, waving bits of paper and pens.

  Bart ran up to the man operating the wrecking ball. “Hold it, Charlie!” he shouted.

  But he was too late. Nancy watched in horror as the huge steel ball crashed into the side of the theater and its wall collapsed in a cloud of dust.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  YOU CAN’T GO IN THERE!” Bart Anderson shouted to Nancy, Nicholas, and George as they ran through the front door of the theater. “The building’s unstable now, and it might-—”

  They didn’t hear the rest of what he said. Their only thought was of their friend and her safety.

  They paused for a moment in the lobby. Plaster dust swirled around them and drifted down, cove
ring the white-and-black marble floor at their feet.

  “We have to find Joseph,” Nancy told them as she anxiously searched the empty lobby. “My guess is he’s in here, going down with the ship, so to speak.”

  “I’ll check downstairs,” Nicholas said as he headed for the staircase. He ran up the steps, taking them two at a time.

  “I’ll search the office,” George said, taking off in that direction.

  Nancy ran into the auditorium. The deserted room was half-lit by the stream of light that poured in through the gaping hole in the side wall.

  This was the heart of the theater. Something told her that he would be there.

  He was.

  Nancy hurried to the back of the dark auditorium where he sat huddled in a seat. His head was down between his knees, his arms wrapped over his head.

  “They’re going to do it,” he said tearfully. “They’re going to pull it down and kill us all.”

  Nancy sat down in the seat beside him and put her arm around his shoulders.

  “No one’s going to die, Joseph,” she said as gently as she could. “They’ve stopped the demolition.”

  She looked over at the gaping hole in the side wall. Through the space she could see Bart Anderson and his crew milling around outside.

  Slowly Joseph lifted his head and looked around. He could see for himself that they had halted the destruction.

  “How did you get them to stop?” he asked.

  “We found out for sure that Bess is here in the theater, Joseph. And we know that you’re the one who took her.”

  He looked at her in disbelief for a long moment. Then, suddenly his dazed look dissolved. He jumped to his feet, and before Nancy had a chance to grab him, he ran to the back door of the auditorium.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” she cried out as she ran after him. “You got away from me once today, and that’s enough.”

  She burst through the doors that were still swinging from his escape. As she ran into the lobby, Nancy caught a glimpse of Joseph as he disappeared down the steps leading to the lower level.