Danger on Parade

by Carolyn Keene

  Nancy leaned back on the bench, trying to formulate a plan to catch the saboteur once and for all.

  She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew the sky was growing lighter and her watch read five forty-five. She was shivering, and her feet felt numb, even though she was wearing boots. She stood up and started walking back and forth to warm up. As she did, she looked around. The area around the Museum of Natural History had grown much livelier.

  A huge sign that read Clown Corner had been set up next to the museum, at the corner of Seventy-seventh Street and Columbus Avenue. Police barriers had been set up on the side street to block off any nonparade traffic, and dozens of volunteers were already gathering there. From what Nancy could see, they were picking up their costumes in one area and sitting down to have their faces painted in another.

  Most of the extras were laughing and squirting their fake flowers at one another. “If they knew what was really going on around here, they might not be so happy,” Nancy whispered to herself as she watched them.

  The air vibrated with excitement and anticipation. Despite her concern, Nancy couldn’t help feeling it, too. The night before, she had made arrangements with Bess to meet her there at six-thirty. Neither of them could stand the thought of Bess missing out on all the preparations, regardless of Jill’s warning.

  Nancy watched as workers began moving floats outside. They took great care in getting each one through the doorway. She was about to go inside and have another look around when Aileen came through the doorway and over to her.

  “Feeling better?” Aileen asked. When Nancy nodded, the newswoman said, “We got all of our initial shots, so my crew is taking a short break. Care to join me for some coffee?”

  Looking in the direction Aileen indicated, Nancy saw a twenty-four-hour coffee shop across the street. “That sounds perfect,” she agreed. “I need something to wake me up. And I’m freezing.”

  They wove through the crowds to the coffee shop and ordered the hot drinks at the counter.

  “So, you still haven’t found out who’s behind the sabotage?” Aileen asked as they sat at a table across from a woman reading a fashion magazine.

  Seeing Nancy hesitate, Aileen said, “Look, the parade is due to start in just a few hours. I’m not going to air any news of these attacks,” she promised. “Besides, at this point, I don’t think anything could stop the crowds from showing up.

  Aileen was right, Nancy decided. It couldn’t hurt to discuss the case with her. Besides, Nancy really needed someone to bounce her thoughts off.

  She briefly recapped her suspicions of Louis Clark. “Louis himself couldn’t have shown up here, though,” Nancy said. “And if he’s working with a Mitchell’s employee, I still don’t have a clue who it is.”

  Aileen took a sip of her coffee, then asked, “And what’s this about Howard Langley? I just saw Jill inside, and she told me he might be responsible.”

  Nancy nodded. “He was here last night. The problem is, we still don’t have any proof.” She let out a sigh. “I can’t help feeling that I’m missing something important.”

  She reached into her bag and pulled out the thick computer printout. Her eyes scanned the list as she explained to Aileen what it was.

  “Hmm, that’s funny,” Nancy murmured.

  “What?” Aileen asked, leaning forward to look at the printout.

  For the first time, Nancy had noticed someone whose name never appeared, even though he had been at the warehouse often during the past few days. “It’s Neil Steem,” Nancy said slowly. “His name should be on this list, but it’s not.”

  “That is strange,” Aileen agreed.

  Nancy blinked as a familiar, sweet scent wafted through the air. She looked to see where it was coming from, and her gaze landed on the woman at the next table. Her magazine was opened to an advertisement announcing the launch of Mitchell’s exclusive men’s cologne. The woman had unsealed the flap containing a sample of the cologne.

  “That’s it!” Nancy exclaimed.

  Seeing Jill’s puzzled gaze, she explained, “The other night Neil was wearing Mitchell’s new exclusive cologne. He told me that it’s not due to hit the stores until next month, and that he’s one of the few people to be wearing it already.”

  “And?” Jill prompted her.

  “And the person who knocked me out this morning was wearing the same cologne. I remember smelling it just before I blacked out.” Nancy grabbed the reporter’s arm. “Aileen, I think it was Neil Steem!”

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  NANCY, ARE YOU absolutely sure?” Aileen asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

  Nancy nodded. “I remember that smell. And it’s definitely the one Neil was wearing when we were at the party at Inverted.”

  She frowned for a moment before adding, “I suppose it’s possible that Howard Langley could have an advance sample of the cologne, too. It’s just that I haven’t smelled it on him the few times we’ve met.”

  A huge smile spread across Aileen’s face. “I think I can help you out there,” she said. “When Mitchell’s first announced the launch of their exclusive perfume and cologne, I covered the story. At the press conference, Howard Langley admitted that he’s allergic to cologne and that he could never wear the Mitchell’s scent!”

  Nancy’s mind was racing. “The saboteur has to be Neil, then—it all makes sense,” she said excitedly. “Neil was with Bess when she bought her scarf. He could have given her the receipt for the clown costumes to sign then. He saw me rush out of the club after her last night, too. He must have guessed that we’d be going to my aunt’s, and he made sure to call there before we arrived, knowing that we wouldn’t be in the apartment to answer and recognize his voice. Then he went to the warehouse and knocked out the guard and slashed the balloons right before we got there.”

  Aileen listened in amazement as Nancy pieced the different attacks together. “Neil must have been here last night for the final preparations,” she guessed. “He always is. That must be when he cut the balloons. And since he is working with the parade, no one would question his presence.

  “He even stole a stockboy’s ID card so that he couldn’t be connected to any of the sabotage attacks,” Nancy concluded.

  Aileen’s expression darkened. “I always knew Neil was bad news,” she said. “I guess he thought that if he made Jill look bad, the store’s executives would return the parade’s top responsibilities to him next year.”

  “Come on!” Nancy cried, jumping up from the table. “We’ve got to warn Jill right away. Neil doesn’t know we’re onto him. For all we know, he could be planning another attack right now!”

  By now the floats and balloons were crowding the streets. Nancy and Aileen scanned the crowds for Neil or Jill as they hurried past a balloon of a superhero, his huge cape flapping with the wind. They wound around a float depicting extraterrestrial life, complete with robots that said, “Greetings, Earthlings. Happy Thanksgiving!”

  It wasn’t going to be easy to tell Jill about Neil, Nancy realized as she hurried toward the Museum of Natural History with Aileen. Jill had believed that he was her friend.

  “Where are they?” Nancy said, gazing around. She caught sight of Dan standing by a table of coffee and doughnuts that had been set up.

  “Dan, do you know where Jill is?” Nancy asked, after she and Aileen rushed over. “Or Neil?”

  “I don’t know where Neil is, but last time I saw Jill she was over there.” He pointed toward Clown Corner. “Yes, she’s still there.”

  Nancy and Aileen rushed over to find Jill yelling into a portable phone. “What do you mean? Check again!” Jill screamed into the phone. “He has to be there!”

  Jill looked more distraught than Nancy had ever seen her. But this was too urgent to wait. Glancing down at her watch, Nancy saw that it was already after six-thirty.

  “Nancy, I have to get over to my crew,” Aileen whispered. “I’ll try and get back over here as soon as I can.�
�� The newswoman disappeared into the crowd.

  Finally, Jill pushed a button and disconnected the portable phone. She began to ask a question, but Nancy interrupted her.

  “Do you know where Neil is?” Nancy blurted out.

  Jill shook her head. “He was around before,” she answered.

  “Where is he now?” Nancy persisted.

  Jill looked irritated. “If you must know, he had to get more duct tape for one of the floats that’s already falling apart. And Austie, the Frisbee-throwing dog, was left behind in the kennel at the hotel, so Neil had to go over and pick him up, too.”

  Nancy knew not to get offended by Jill’s tone. Jill was just overwhelmed with last-minute details. Nancy felt even worse about what she had to tell her. After taking a deep breath, Nancy said, “Jill, I have to tell you something about Neil—”

  “Nancy, I’d love to listen, but I’ve got major problems here,” Jill snapped. “And if you hadn’t noticed, in a little more than two hours, we’re putting on a really big parade. By the way, do you—”

  Nancy grabbed Jill’s arm. “Jill, I’m almost positive that Neil is the one trying to sabotage the parade!” she said urgently.

  In a flash, Jill’s expression changed from one of annoyance to one of shock. “What!” she cried.

  Nancy explained her theory as quickly as she could, before Jill had time to protest. As she spoke, Jill’s face grew red with fury.

  “No, I just don’t believe any of it,” Jill said when Nancy was done. “Neil has been such a big help with everything. He’s worked just as hard as I have. There’s no way he’d do anything to ruin it.”

  Jill’s voice was trembling, and Nancy thought she saw tears in her eyes. “I just don’t believe it, Nancy,” Jill said again. “And I don’t think you should go around accusing my co-workers, especially on the morning of the parade!”

  Nancy faced Jill squarely. She had to get Jill to see the truth. “Jill, on Tuesday Neil left his ID with me by mistake, yet he had no problem getting around the store or the warehouse without it,” she began. “I think he’s the person who stole Heath Nealon’s ID card.”

  Jill showed no reaction.

  “He was around the warehouse before the explosion, so he could easily have planted the timer,” Nancy continued. “And the person who knocked me out last night was wearing Forever Male. That cologne isn’t even in the stores yet. Neil is the only person I’ve ever smelled it on.”

  Jill still didn’t seem convinced. In fact, she was looking impatient, as if she didn’t want to hear any of Nancy’s argument.

  “Neil was also with Bess when she bought her scarf,” Nancy said forcefully. “That’s the only time Bess signed her name here in New York— which means it’s the only time she could have signed for the costumes!”

  Finally Jill spoke. “I have one for you, Nancy,” she said, her dark eyes flashing angrily. “I’ve been trying to ask you this since I saw you. Do you know where your friend Bess is?”

  Nancy blinked in surprise. What did Bess have to do with any of this? “She was supposed to meet me here at six-thirty. She should be around somewhere,” Nancy told Jill.

  “Well, believe me, she’s not here,” Jill said curtly. “I ought to know—I’ve had Bonnie scouring the area for her or Greg. I’d know it if they were around.”

  What was going on? Nancy wondered, frowning. “Why are you looking for Bess?” she asked.

  Jill pressed her lips together in an angry line. “Greg Willow was nowhere to be found when the limousine went to the hotel to pick him up this morning,” she explained.

  Nancy didn’t like the sound of this. “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Positive. I called and talked to every single person who worked at the front desk from five o’clock last night through this morning. Greg dropped off his key at the desk at about five-thirty last night, and he never returned to pick it up.”

  Jill’s voice rose shrilly as she spoke. “In fact” —she was practically shouting now—“the last time anyone saw our grand marshal, he was with your friend Bess!”

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  NANCY FELT herself bristle. “You can’t think Bess is responsible,” she said right away. “She probably slept late, and that’s why she’s not here yet.” She reached into her bag for a quarter. “Let me call my aunt’s apartment. I’m sure Bess is there, and we can ask her what happened.”

  “I already tried that,” Jill snapped. “Eloise told me that Bess never came home last night.”

  “Oh, no!” Nancy knew Bess would never stay out without calling—unless something was terribly wrong. “She must be in trouble,” she said, a feeling of dread welling up inside her.

  “Jill, we need you over here,” Bonnie called from the float line-up. “There’s a disagreement about which float Pam Hart is supposed to be on.”

  Jill waved distractedly at Bonnie before turning back to Nancy. “I don’t care what you do about Bess, Nancy. Just please, please find my grand marshal so I don’t have twenty thousand disappointed teenage girls lined up all the way down Broadway.” With that, she turned and went over to Bonnie.

  Nancy couldn’t stop thinking about Bess. She was filled with worry for her friend as she hurried to a pay phone and dialed her aunt’s apartment. She let it ring ten times, but there was no answer. Thinking she might have dialed the wrong number, she hung up and tried again.

  “Nancy! Nancy!”

  Nancy turned to see her aunt running toward her. “Aunt Eloise!” she called out, rushing to meet her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came right after I got off the phone with Jill,” she explained. “I’m so worried about Bess! When she didn’t come home last night, I just assumed she had come here to meet you. I’ll just feel awful if . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “It’s not your fault, Aunt Eloise. But to tell you the truth, I’m worried, too,” Nancy confided.

  Eloise frowned and shook her head. “Jill seems to think that Bess is responsible for the disappearance of this Greg Willow fellow.”

  “I think someone else just wants to make it look that way. But since they’re both missing, they could be in danger,” Nancy said grimly. “Tell me about last night. When was the last time you saw Bess?”

  Nancy’s aunt rubbed her cheek. “At about six o’clock,” she replied. “Greg picked her up to go out. They said something about stopping at Neil’s apartment—”

  “To pick up the tickets for the party at the Dot Matrix club!” Nancy finished her aunt’s sentence. “Aunt Eloise, come on! We have to get to eighty-eight East Eighty-eighth Street as soon as possible.”

  • • •

  “There’s the building,” Aunt Eloise announced ten minutes later. “Why don’t you get out here and I’ll park,” she said, looking down the street for an open spot.

  “Okay,” Nancy said. They had driven to the East Side of Manhattan in Eloise’s silver hatchback. Now Nancy stepped from the car and walked between two parked cars to the curb.

  While she waited for her aunt, Nancy turned to look at the apartment building. She frowned when she spotted a doorman standing behind the glass doors in the lobby.

  “All set,” Eloise said, coming up to Nancy. She started for the building’s entrance, but Nancy held her back.

  “There’s a doorman,” Nancy cautioned.

  Her aunt grinned at her. “No problem,” she said, shaking her car keys. “I’ll tell him I have a problem with my car. When he comes out to help me, you can sneak inside.”

  Nancy kissed her aunt on the cheek. “That’s brilliant!”

  “It’s no wonder we’re related,” her aunt said, looking pleased.

  Nancy hung back on the sidewalk as her aunt entered the apartment building. A few minutes later, Eloise and the doorman came out and walked past Nancy to the parked car. Nancy waited until they were bent over the engine, and then she slipped inside.

  She hurried to the elevator and was relieved when the door imm
ediately opened. Jumping in, she pushed the button for the eighth floor. “Hurry!” she whispered, as if that might coax the elevator to go faster.

  Finally, the elevator doors opened on the eighth floor, and she ran down the hallway until she came to apartment 8D. She wasn’t surprised to find the door locked. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the small lock-picking kit she always carried with her and went to work. A few minutes later the lock clicked, and the door swung inward.

  She paused briefly, listening for any noise, but there was only silence.

  “Bess? Neil?” Nancy called, hurrying into the living room, then the kitchen. There were no immediate signs of Bess and Greg. As she went into the bedroom, Nancy’s stomach began to twist with worry.

  The room was empty, too, and Nancy went over to the closet door. She opened it—and gasped.

  “I knew it!” she whispered.

  Dozens of clown costumes were jammed into the closet. That cinched it—Neil was definitely the saboteur. “But where is he?” she wondered aloud. “And what’s he done with Greg and Bess?”

  Nancy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she went back into the living room. Think, Drew, she told herself. There must be some clue here to where they are.

  There were a lot of papers on the coffee table. Sitting down on the sleek black leather couch, she began to flip through them. Most were personal letters and junk mail, but she stopped at an article that had been clipped from a newspaper.

  “Historic Building to be Demolished” the headline read.

  It was the same story she and Bess had seen Aileen covering, about the brownstone building that was being demolished on Thanksgiving Day. Nancy frowned as she stared down at the newsprint. Why would Neil cut out this article?

  A sudden chill ran up Nancy’s spine. That building was being demolished today. What if Neil had more on his mind than just keeping Bess and Greg out of the way until the parade was over? What if he had a plan to make sure they kept quiet about his scheme—permanently?