The Clue in the Camera Page 9

  “Like the one of you getting off a fishing boat?” Nancy risked asking.

  “Yeah. Exactly. Anyway, you can see I can’t let pictures like that get around. The mob, they’re looking for me. They see those pictures, I’m a dead man.” Kesack leaned back in the chair, stretching for a moment. “But I didn’t take Emily Foxworth. I just wanted those photos.”

  It was suddenly clear to Nancy that if Kesack hadn’t kidnapped Emily and didn’t know where she was, then things were worse than she thought. Kesack and Blane, George and herself, and Emily were all in great danger.

  “Mr. Kesack, we’ve got to leave now. All of us. It’s important. We’re in serious danger here,” said Nancy.

  “Naw.” The gangster stood up, confident again. “We’re okay, kid. No one knows I’m here, except Croft.”

  “Why does he know?” Nancy asked quickly.

  “He’s the one got me back into the country. He’s going to meet me here tonight, take me to a better hideout. You’ll see. Kesack’s going to land on his feet.”

  Nancy shook her head. “I don’t think you’re safe.”

  Kesack stared at her. “What’re you doing here in the tunnels, anyway?” he asked suddenly. “How did you get here?”

  Producing the crumpled slip of paper from her jeans pocket, Nancy told Kesack about finding the number code. “I didn’t figure it out until about an hour ago.”

  Kesack was clearly upset. “Where did you find that?” he roared.

  “I, uh, lost it, chief.” Blane looked uncomfortable. “It was Croft’s code to tell us where to meet him tonight.”

  “I found it after Emily’s apartment had been broken into the second time,” Nancy volunteered.

  “The second time?” Kesack repeated, alarmed.

  “Yes. Someone tried to break in one night and failed. The break-in the next day was successful.”

  Nancy remembered the vandalism in Croft’s Curio Shop. She turned to Kesack again. “Look, it must be the mob that has Emily now. And they broke into Croft’s. Everything was torn up.” Nancy looked steadily into Kesack’s eyes. “They took some pages from a notebook that had handwriting like this in it. They might know you’re here now.”

  “I was right, boss. See?” Blane jumped excitedly back from the doorway, where he had been nervously watching the tunnel passage. “What if they got Croft? We should get out of here now!”

  The girls nodded in agreement. Kesack stood up suddenly. “Okay. I know these streets. Let’s go.” He turned to the girls, hesitating for a moment. Nancy knew he was trying to decide what to do with them.

  But before he could make a decision, loud footsteps clattered down the tunnel. Obviously, more than one person was coming, and they didn’t care who heard them as they charged toward the room where the girls and their captors stood.

  Blane grabbed Kesack’s shoulder and tried to shove him to the back door of the room. But as he did so, a slender man stepped silently from the shadows beyond the doorway. He was dressed in a dark suit, wore a small, dark hat, and held a pistol at his side. His other hand was tucked casually into a pocket.

  Blane and Kesack stopped, confused. Nancy and George looked at each other and stood still. Nancy was sure that running would not do much for them or for Kesack. She turned to see who was coming down the tunnel. Maybe it would be the police or Hannah or even Peter Stine.

  No. Nancy’s earlier fears returned. Several men she had never seen before entered the room from the tunnel. With them were the two men who had chased her on the bridge. The crane operator looked grimly satisfied when he spotted Nancy.

  “Why, hello, ladies,” his companion said, sneering. “What are nice girls like you doing in a dump like this?”

  The third man made Nancy uncomfortable. He was trim, dressed in an expensive suit. His eyes took in the room and its occupants with a confident, knowing sweep. But he said nothing.

  The three men all leveled guns at Kesack, Blane, and the girls.

  Should Nancy tell them the police were combing the docks this very minute? No, she wasn’t sure Hannah had gotten through to Lieutenant Chin or been able to convince him of the importance of the code. It was a bluff that might not work.

  “Well, if it isn’t the dead chief.” The voice of the third man, low and ironic, broke the silence. Nancy switched her gaze to Kesack, glad the attention of the mobster in the expensive suit was off her and George.

  “Hello, guys.” Kesack’s nervously darting eyes belied his overconfident smile. “Glad to see the top guy back, after all?” He chuckled, but his laugh fell into the silence of the room and faded. No one joined him.

  Arnie Blane shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He stepped away from Kesack. “I can explain—” he began uncertainly.

  “Shut up.” The snappily dressed man seemed to be the leader of the three, and he wasted no time on Blane. “Explanations are what I don’t need. Not from you, not from him, not from anyone.”

  He took a few steps toward Kesack, and Nancy and George backed away.

  “So, pictures don’t lie.” The crane operator chuckled as he watched the others. “I told you he was still alive.”

  The leader was within a few steps of Kesack. He stopped, still pointing his gun at Kesack’s heart. “When you die, old man, you should stay dead,” he said coolly. “Now you have to do it all over again. But this time”—he nodded at Nancy and George—“it won’t be so lonely.”

  15

  Burial at Sea

  “Tie them up,” the leader ordered the crane operator, throwing him a length of heavy rope. The crane operator grinned and proceeded to bind the hands of first Kesack and Blane, then Nancy and George.

  “You almost got away with it, Kesack,” the crane operator snarled. “But that’s what we’re here for—to prevent you from talking to the government. That was your plan, wasn’t it?”

  “You can’t do this!” Nancy exclaimed, twisting her hands in a futile attempt to free herself from the ropes.

  The crane operator turned to Nancy. “Too bad you got messed up in this, little lady.” Then he looked at Kesack. “Really . . . too bad.” He let out a low-pitched laugh that startled George.

  She yelled at the top of her lungs. “Help!”

  “No one’s going to hear you down here, sweetheart.”

  “Gag them,” the leader ordered. “We don’t want anyone to notice our caravan outside.”

  One of the men placed a gag over Nancy’s mouth and tied it securely at the back of her head. Then he gagged the other three. Blane protested, and for his efforts he was shoved heavily against the wall.

  Kesack’s eyes flamed in anger. “So Croft took off, did he? Well, no matter. We’ll catch up with him sooner or later.” He squirmed against the bonds that held him.

  “It was Croft who gave you away, old man,” the leader informed him. “We found notes in the curio shop that led us right to you. Come on,” he directed his men. “Let’s move them out of here.”

  Nancy found herself being shoved roughly down another branch of the tunnel, followed by George, Kesack, and Blane. Behind them were the rest of the mobsters.

  No one will ever find us in here, she thought. Yet she held out hope that Hannah had reached Lieutenant Chin in time and that the police were now somewhere in the area, scouting around.

  At that moment, Nancy realized something. She and George had followed Peter Stine into the warehouse, yet he was nowhere to be seen! And the thugs hadn’t mentioned him. Where was he? And what was his role in the mystery?

  A damp, rotting smell began to fill the air. Nancy had little time to contemplate Stine, since it was a struggle just to maintain her balance while walking with her hands bound behind her. The mobsters kept pushing their victims along, urging them forward. Nancy wondered where they were being taken.

  After a good five minutes of winding through the underground tunnels, Nancy detected a whiff of fresh air. The distinct odor of the ocean wafted through the tunnel, and ahead she saw an opening.


  The prisoners were led onto a rotting dock and held there until a launch approached. Nancy strained her ears, hoping to hear a police siren. She heard only the water lapping against the pier and the steady hum of the motorboat. She looked around for a way to escape, but, with her hands bound, the prospects seemed dim. Besides, the dock they stood on lay beyond large gates that most likely were locked.

  Quickly, the four were loaded onto the launch. Nancy glanced at George. Real fear showed in her friend’s eyes. Nancy, too, was worried, although she busied herself by trying to work her hands free and concentrating on a means of escape.

  The captives were shoved below decks. Nancy kept her ears and eyes open. The steady hum of the motor and the gentle back-and-forth movement of the launch indicated to her that they were still on the bay. Once outside the breakwaters, the waves would be larger and the going quite rough.

  Fifteen minutes later, the prisoners were ordered above decks and were loaded onto what looked to Nancy like an old fishing boat. She had little time to observe her surroundings, however, as she was pushed roughly along with the others deep into the interior of the boat.

  “You can take their gags off,” the leader indicated to the crane operator.

  “Might as well let them share their last moments together, eh, boss?” The thin-faced man cackled cruelly. “No one can hear them out here, anyway.” He untied the gags, making sure the prisoners’ hands remained securely bound.

  Then he led them down a narrow hallway and pointed to a door. “In there,” he said gruffly. “We’ll be back for you as soon as we get this old chug going and can make our way out to sea. Then it’s time to feed the fishies.” He laughed as he closed the door on them.

  Nancy let her eyes adjust to the darkness. When she could see, she let out a surprised cry. “Emily!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay. Really, Nancy,” Emily assured her. “And am I ever glad to see a friendly face. I wish I could give you a hug.” But Emily’s hands, like those of the others, had been tied behind her.

  “But I’m sorry you and George are here,” she added. “I’m afraid I got you into a real mess, girls,” she said tearfully.

  “I’ll say,” agreed another voice. Kesack’s.

  Emily’s eyes widened. “You’re supposed to be dead,” she informed him.

  The old man laughed bitterly. “I have the distinct feeling that I will be shortly.”

  “Well, your appearance here explains a lot of things.”

  “Like what?” George asked.

  “Like why these thugs who’ve been holding me captive kept asking me what I knew about Kesack. ‘Nothing,’ I told them repeatedly, ‘except that he died in a plane crash five years ago.’ I guess they finally believed me.”

  “I wonder why they kept you, then,” George said thoughtfully.

  “Because,” Nancy spoke up, “she was the perfect bait. When the mob discovered that Kesack was after Emily, they figured that all they had to do was kidnap her, and Kesack would walk right into their hands.”

  “Exactly,” Emily said.

  “Also,” Nancy continued, “Emily gave them some protection from the police, especially Lieutenant Chin. The mob knew he was a good friend of Emily’s and wouldn’t allow anything to happen that might hurt her.”

  “But now that they have us,” Blane said, gesturing to Kesack and himself, “I think we’re all expendable.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Nancy said urgently. “Right now, before they get this boat started and make their way out to sea!”

  While everyone was talking, Nancy had been attempting to remove the ropes that bound her hands. “George,” she said to her friend, “turn around.” George did as she was directed. Nancy backed into her. “These ropes are almost undone. They feel much looser. See if you can untie that last knot.”

  George tugged at the ropes for a good five minutes, and finally Nancy was free! She worked quickly to untie the others. “Emily,” she whispered, “do you have any idea how many men are on board?”

  “Not now,” Emily answered. “But before you came . . . let’s see, there were at least five. The cook, the guard, the three crew members . . . yes, at least five.”

  “Too many, then,” said Kesack forlornly.

  “Five, plus the crane operator—his pal, that thin guy with the gun—the leader, and there were a few others outside dressed like dockworkers,” George said slowly.

  “It’s no good planning to take control of the boat,” Nancy said. “We’ll have to come up with another way.” She thought for a moment. At last, she asked, “Can everybody swim?”

  “Swim?” Kesack said. “You must be nuts. That water’s freezing.”

  “I don’t see that we have much choice,” Nancy told him. “Let’s just hope we don’t have to be in the bay too long.” Secretly, Nancy wondered how Emily and Kesack would fare in the cold water. Blane looked strong enough, and she wasn’t worried about athletic George, although swimming too long in the chilly Pacific waters would prove deadly for all of them.

  “There’s a guard stationed at the foot of the stairs,” Emily cautioned.

  Together, the group worked out a plan to overpower the guard.

  Nancy repeated the plan to the others twice. “Are you sure you know what to do?” she kept asking them. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes.” She ran through the plan a third time.

  “We know, we know,” Kesack said irritably. He was used to giving orders, not taking them.

  “All right, George,” said Nancy. “You start things rolling. Call the guard in here. Yell to him that Emily needs medical attention.”

  “Okay,” George said nervously. “I’ll do my best.” When the door was opened in response to George’s cries, Blane knocked the burly guard unconscious. Kesack bound and gagged him, and then the prisoners quietly made their way to the top deck.

  Silently, with Nancy in the lead, they crept to the bow of the boat. They had decided it would be easiest for them to scramble overboard from there. Emily, then George, then Blane and Kesack jumped over the side. Nancy was about to follow when she was spotted by one of the mobsters.

  He shouted to the others, “They’re getting away!”

  Nancy heard a shot ring out. She ducked, momentarily deafened by the sound. Another shot rang out, and, without hesitating, she jumped overboard.

  The icy water stunned her, and the salt burned her eyes.

  “Nancy?” she heard George call. “Nancy, I can’t find Emily!”

  “I have her!” Kesack yelled.

  Suddenly, the fishing boat and the surrounding water were illuminated by searchlights. Two police cruisers approached the fishing vessel, and a third searched the water for the swimmers. Nancy and the others were soon safely on deck, wrapped in wool blankets. Nancy felt someone thrust a cup of something hot into her hand.

  From the safety of the police cruiser, she sipped hot coffee and watched the police officers board the fishing boat. There was a scuffle with the mobsters on deck, but no shots rang out.

  “Hannah!” Emily suddenly cried out. Her teeth chattering uncontrollably, the soaked woman hugged her friend, both of them unmindful of the wet and cold.

  Nancy and George smiled at each other, happy to see Hannah and Emily reunited. As they watched, the police handcuffed Kesack and Blane and took them off to the lower deck, where they were secured in a temporary jail.

  “I hope they consider the fact that he helped me in the water,” Emily said of Kesack.

  “Lieutenant Chin will take your statement into account, Emily,” Nancy assured her.

  In the excitement, Nancy was paying little heed to the continual flash of a camera from nearby. But after she’d warmed up and the shock had worn off, she realized that Peter Stine was capturing the entire event on film.

  Shivering, she walked over to him. “Don’t you ever quit?” she asked.

  “Never,” he replied.

  Stine returned his attention to t
he commotion on the fishing vessel across the way. He snapped one picture after another of the capture. “For once,” he said, “I’ve beaten Emily Foxworth out of a big story.”

  Emily chose that moment to join Nancy and George. Stine snapped a photo of his woeful-looking competitor. Then he let out a guffaw that rang in Nancy’s ear long after they’d made their way safely to shore.

  16

  The Whole Picture

  By the time Emily Foxworth and her guests woke the next day, the spring sunshine was pouring into Emily’s apartment. They hadn’t gotten to bed until almost dawn. After Nancy, Emily, and George had been rescued from the chilly waters of the bay, they’d been asked by the police to help sort out what had taken place. Along with Hannah, they had pieced together as much of the story as they could.

  Although worn down by the strain of having been held prisoner by the mobsters, Emily had told the police everything about her kidnappers and her captivity. Then she listened, amazed, as Nancy and the others described the events that had taken place since her disappearance. The police, too, were impressed with the discoveries Nancy and her friends had made.

  Nancy had been glad when Peter Stine had been forced by his paper’s deadline to leave the wrap-up of the investigation. His glee at covering the story had made her very uncomfortable. It was as if Stine were glad that Emily had been in danger so that he could have a great story.

  Finally, in the early-morning hours, the police had driven the four women to Emily’s house. Emily didn’t want to be alone, and no one felt like going to the hotel. While Tripod chattered joyfully, Emily and her guests had treated themselves to long, hot showers. Then they’d collapsed into bed for a much-needed sleep.

  Emily, glad to be home, had risen first and started a hearty breakfast. Hannah entered the kitchen next, offering to help. “The smell of fresh coffee was all I needed to wake me up,” she announced.

  In a moment, George joined them, stretching. “Do I smell cocoa?” she said with a yawn. Nancy followed shortly after.