Circle of Evil (2 page)

“You're sure?” Nancy asked.

“Absolutely.”

Stepping closer, Nancy looked carefully at the lock on the safe. It looked perfectly normal, so it couldn't have been broken into, or Joanna would have noticed. Whoever had taken the necklace knew how to pick a lock. Nancy didn't know every person at the party, but she knew most of them, and they were all perfectly regular River Heights teenagers. Not the types who knew about getting into top-quality safes or pulling off a big-time jewelry theft.

“When was the last time you saw the necklace?” she asked.

“Three days ago, when we got home,” Joanna said. “I watched my daddy put it in the safe, and I haven't been near it since, until now.” Her eyes widened. “You mean it could have been gone all this time and I didn't even know it?”

“Maybe,” Nancy said. “Somebody could have gotten into the house, I guess, but I don't think they'd chance it while anyone was here.”

“Then they wouldn't have had a problem,” Joanna said. “I've hardly spent any time here since we got home, and the maids are both off till my parents get back.”

“Listen, Joanna,” Nancy said, “I know this
might ruin the party, but we have to call the police.”

Joanna sniffed loudly. “I know,” she agreed and burst into tears again.

There was a phone on the desk. Nancy crossed to it to dial the River Heights Police Department. After giving her name and the address of the house, she hung up and turned back to Joanna. “They'll be here in about fifteen minutes,” she reported.

Wiping her eyes, Joanna grabbed Nancy's arm. “I just got an idea,” she said excitedly. “I know the police have to be in on this, but, Nancy, you're a detective, too! And you're good, right?”

“Well, I've been successful before,” Nancy said without false modesty. “What's your idea?” she asked, already guessing the answer.

“You try to find the necklace, too,” Joanna told her. “I don't care if you work with the police or by yourself. Just help find that necklace before my parents get back. Please, Nancy, I'm really desperate! Will you help me?”

Nancy couldn't help but laugh. “I get it,” she said. “If we find the necklace before they get back, then what they don't know won't hurt them, right?”

Joanna nodded.

“It sounds nice,” Nancy said. “But with the police in on it, I really don't think there's any way to keep it from your parents.”

“I guess not.” Joanna looked ready to cry again, but after a few seconds, she cheered up. “But if the necklace is already back when they find out about it, it won't be so awful. I mean, how mad can they get if the necklace is safe and sound?”

Nancy laughed again. “I can't argue with that,” she said. “Besides, I hate to say no to a new case.”

“Oh, Nancy, thank you!” Joanna cried. “I feel better already. I'm just positive you'll solve the whole thing for me!”

“I'll do my best,” Nancy promised. “But you've got to help me, too. You've got to tell the police and me everything you know. Don't keep something back just because you're embarrassed about it—like telling an entire party there was a valuable necklace in the house. And don't worry about the police,” she went on. “I've worked with them before, and we get along fine. We'll all do everything we can.”

Five minutes later, two men from the River Heights Police Department arrived, and Nancy met Detective John Ryan for the first time. He was about twenty-five or thirty years old, and he was handsome, with dark curly hair and blue eyes. He'd be even more handsome
if he smiled, Nancy thought. Right now, he looks like he's at the end of a very bad day.

“I thought I knew just about everyone in the department,” Nancy said after introducing herself. “You must be new.”

“I've been working in Chicago,” he said shortly. Looking past Nancy and Joanna, he nodded at the crowded party, which was still going strong. “Nobody's gone home, I hope. We'll have to question everyone.”

“Oh, do you really have to?” Joanna asked. “These are all my friends. They wouldn't have stolen the necklace.”

“You don't know that for sure,” Detective Ryan told her. “Did you tell anyone here about it?”

Blushing, Joanna nodded. “Just about everyone,” she admitted.

The detective looked grim. “You'd be surprised what some people will do for money, even so-called friends,” he said.

“She didn't tell anyone about the safe, though,” Nancy said, trying to be helpful. “All she said was that her father had brought back a necklace. I don't think anyone knew exactly where it was. Besides, whoever got into that safe had to have been a professional. I'm positive that no one that I know here could have done it.”

Still not smiling, Detective Ryan gave
Nancy a long look. “Thanks for your opinion, Ms. Drew,” he said finally. “Now, if it's all right with you, I'll get on with the official investigation.” He told the other police officer to start questioning the party guests, then turned back to Joanna. “I'd like to see the safe now and get a good description of the necklace.”

As the three of them walked to the study, Joanna leaned close to Nancy and whispered, “I thought you said you got along great with the police. So why is this guy treating you like you're contagious?”

“I'm not sure,” Nancy whispered back. “He doesn't know me, so maybe he thinks I don't know what I'm talking about.”

“Well, tell him who you are, then!” Joanna said. “Once he knows, he'll probably be glad to have you on his side.”

Nancy turned and sneaked a look at Detective Ryan, who was a couple of steps behind the girls. He was frowning, and his handsome face looked as if it were carved out of stone. “I think I'll wait,” she said. “I get the feeling he wouldn't be impressed even if I were Sherlock Holmes.”

As Detective Ryan checked out the safe and talked to Joanna, Nancy kept her mouth shut, but she watched him closely and listened carefully. He knew what he was doing, that much
was obvious. He asked all the right questions, and he even got Joanna to admit that she might have told a few people about the safe. Not anyone at the party, but maybe some people at the River Heights Country Club, where she had been spending her days.

“Joanna!” Nancy couldn't help butting in. “You didn't tell me about that. You said nobody knew about the safe.”

“I guess I forgot.” Joanna looked embarrassed. “But I promise, Nancy, that nobody—absolutely nobody—knows the combination.” She looked at Detective Ryan. “I've also asked Nancy to help solve this case, and she said she would. She's a detective, too, you know.”

As Nancy had predicted, Detective Ryan wasn't impressed. In fact, he looked disgusted. “A detective?” he asked, looking at Nancy.

Nancy nodded.

“An amateur detective, I take it?” Detective Ryan said.

Nancy nodded again. “But I've done pretty well for an amateur,” she told him. “And as Joanna said, I promised her I'd help. So, please, let me know what I can do.”

When he didn't answer, Nancy continued, saying, “It really doesn't look much like amateur work, does it, Detective? You did take a good look at that safe, didn't you? I think
we're dealing with some pretty slick professionals.”

Detective Ryan looked coolly at Nancy and raised one eyebrow. “We?” he asked. “What do you mean, ‘we'?”

“I told you,” Joanna said. “I asked Nancy to help solve this case.”

The detective's eyebrow shot up even farther. “If you don't mind, Ms. Tate, I think I'll handle this one my own way. And that means using the police department, not an amateur detective.”

“But I do mind!” Joanna protested. “Nancy promised she'd help, and I want her to.”

“Sorry, Ms. Tate, but you don't really have any choice in the matter. I'm the detective in charge of the case, and what I say goes.”

“Listen, Detective Ryan,” Nancy said. “I don't want to butt in, but—”

“Good,” he said, interrupting. “Then don't.”

Nancy took a deep breath. Detective Ryan was beginning to bug her—a lot. “I was going to say that I guarantee I won't get in your way, if that's what you're worried about. I won't do any harm. And who knows? I just might help.”

“What makes you so sure you won't do any harm?” he asked impatiently.

“I guess it's because I know what you have
to do to solve a case,” Nancy explained. “I've solved some cases on my own, and—”

“That's fine, Ms. Drew,” Detective Ryan said quickly. “You just keep on solving your own cases and stay away from mine.” He started for the door and then stopped. Turning back, he pointed a finger at Nancy. “I warn you, Ms. Drew. Don't mess with this case.”

L
ATE THE NEXT
morning, as Nancy turned her blue Mustang into the entrance of the River Heights Country Club, she couldn't help but wonder. There she was, on the case, just twelve hours after Detective Ryan had warned her to stay off it. Should she continue or not?

Detective Ryan didn't know Nancy, of course, so he didn't know that telling her not to follow a case was like telling her not to breathe. But she didn't want to cross him, either. Still, she reasoned, she had promised Joanna she'd help, and she didn't want to let her down. If she was lucky, she could help
without the detective even knowing about it, for a while, anyway. She just hoped she wouldn't run into him at the club that day. She wanted a chance to get started on her own before she had to deal with him.

Nancy was usually too busy to spend much time at the club. Despite her schedule, though, she seemed to have been there a lot recently. Before that, she had almost forgotten how peaceful it was, with its emerald-green golf course, its rambling stone clubhouse, and the tiled swimming and diving pools. That day, Nancy intended to follow Joanna and see whom she talked to at the club—and how much she told them about her possessions.

After parking her car in the lot near the clubhouse, Nancy took her green canvas carryall and walked along the flagstone path that led to the swimming pool. The patio around the pool was crowded with people lounging, tanning, and sipping cool drinks. It seemed as if everyone was talking at once, but the first voice Nancy heard was Joanna's.

“I still can't believe it,” Joanna was saying. “I mean, I had to beg my parents to let me stay at home alone, and then this happens! I just don't know what I'm going to do if that necklace doesn't turn up.”

Joanna was talking to everyone in general, but the one who was listening the hardest was
a tall, good-looking boy with sun-bleached hair and a peeling nose. He has to be a lifeguard, Nancy thought. She had never met a lifeguard who didn't have a peeling nose.

“Nancy!” Joanna called when she saw her. “I'm so glad you're here. I was afraid you might change your mind after the way that detective treated you.”

Nancy smiled and shook her head. “Not a chance,” she said, easing into one of the lounge chairs.

Sighing in relief, Joanna turned to the lifeguard. “This is Nancy Drew, Mike,” she told him. “She's a fabulous detective, and she's going to find out who took my necklace.”

“No kidding?” Mike gave Nancy a curious look. “What's your plan for finding it?”

Smiling, Nancy shook her head. “I don't have one yet,” she said. Even if I did, she thought, I wouldn't talk about it.

Mike smiled back. He was still staring at her, and Nancy figured he must be a mystery buff. Either that, or he just liked the way she looked in her blue shorts and halter top. “It's kind of funny, though,” he remarked, “that you're starting your investigation here at the club. This is nowhere near the scene of the crime, is it?”

“Oh, she just came here to talk to me,”
Joanna chimed in. “She doesn't really have any suspects yet.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” Mike said, getting ready to climb back up to his lifeguard chair. “Everybody here knew so much about that necklace that we feel like we've been robbed, too.”

“Robbed?” a voice said. “Did somebody mention robbery?”

Turning to a woman who had just come out of the clubhouse, Joanna told her all about her missing necklace.

“I know exactly how you feel,” the woman said sympathetically. “It was only two weeks ago that our Picasso disappeared. We had just come back from a trip, and we were going to have a party to show off the painting, but it disappeared.” She shook her head and sighed. “Most people think we don't have a chance in a million of ever getting it back, either.”

“What do the police say?” Nancy asked.

“Not much,” the woman told her. “Detective Ryan thinks a professional ring of thieves is behind it and that our painting has changed hands at least five times by now.”