Into Thin Air

by Carolyn Keene

  Mark was obviously disappointed as he walked the girls to the door. “Well, thanks for hearing me out, anyway.”

  “She’ll help you,” Nancy heard Bess whisper to Mark. “You’ll see.”

  “Are you guys staying or coming?” Nancy asked Bess and George from the top of the stairs.

  “Coming,” Bess said, picking up her handbag.

  “Me, too,” George called. “See you, Mark.”

  The girls headed down the stairs. The Bradford sisters were still on the porch, Frances doing her needlepoint, and Marie sweeping, the headphones back on her ears.

  “How’s our new tenant getting along, girls?” Frances asked, raising her eyes from her needlepoint.

  “Oh, fine,” George answered with a smile.

  “That’s good,” Frances said. “It isn’t always easy for a young man on his own.”

  When they reached the sidewalk, George turned to Nancy. “So, what do you think, Nan?”

  Nancy Drew tilted her head to one side and bit her lip. “I don’t know yet. I’d like to get the facts on that helicopter explosion, to see if it was possible for anyone to have survived it. Beyond that, I’d like to know a little more about Mark. After all, I’ve only just met him.”

  “I agree.” George nodded. Bess was obviously disappointed.

  “Let’s go get a soda. I want to make a couple of calls,” Nancy suggested.

  Soon the three girls were seated in a booth at a diner not far from George’s.

  “Order me an iced tea,” Nancy told her friends. She got up and headed for the phone booth. Inserting a coin, she dialed the River Heights Police Department and asked for Chief McGinnis. The veteran chief of police had known Nancy since she was little and usually complained about the scrapes Nancy got into. Nancy didn’t take his complaining seriously, and he helped her out whenever he could.

  “Hello, Nancy!” McGinnis said the minute she announced herself. “What can I do for you?”

  “It’s about the embezzlement case at Anderson Industries and the helicopter that exploded,” Nancy began. “I was wondering what you could tell me about it.”

  “Nothing that hasn’t been in the news already,” the chief replied. “I saw the chopper blow apart with my own eyes.”

  “What about the stolen money?” Nancy asked. “Was any of it found in the wreckage?”

  “Nope, but I have to tell you, there wasn’t much of anything left after that explosion,” the chief added.

  “Is it possible that the money was never on board the chopper?” Nancy asked.

  Chief McGinnis paused a moment before answering. “Anything’s possible. But probable? That’s something else. Johnson spent almost three years embezzling that money, and he came up with a very clever scheme to do it. Why would he make his getaway without taking it with him? No, if you ask me, the money was burned up.”

  McGinnis’s explanation made more sense to Nancy than Mark’s story. “That’s all I wanted to know, chief. Thanks for talking to me.”

  “Always a pleasure,” the chief said with a chuckle. “If I know you, you’re on the trail of a mystery, but I think the Anderson case is dead in the water. That’s the way it goes sometimes, Nancy. We just can’t catch all the bad guys. At least Johnson didn’t get away with it.”

  “Not the way he intended,” Nancy replied.

  After talking to Chief McGinnis, Nancy phoned directory assistance in Brewster to ask for the number of Crabtree and Company Detective Agency. She knew that her call to the agency was going to be difficult. There was a bluff that she had used in some of her other cases that would probably work, though, if she played it just right. She paused before dialing, thinking of what to say.

  “Crabtree,” said a sour female voice. “How may we help you?”

  “Hal Slade, please,” Nancy said.

  “One moment and I’ll connect you to his secretary.”

  There was a click. Nancy was on hold. Soon another voice came over the wire.

  “Mr. Slade’s office.” Again it was a woman. “He’s not in right now. Can I help you?”

  “I’m with Fayne and Marvin Investigations in River Heights,” Nancy said, making up the name of a detective agency. “We’re considering hiring a Mr. Mark Rubin as an associate, and he listed Crabtree and Company as his last employer.”

  “You mean, you want a recommendation?” The secretary sounded startled.

  “Yes,” Nancy went on. “He says he had some success at your firm.”

  “He does?” The woman on the other end of the line sounded increasingly uncomfortable. “Well, I guess he did. He’s very hardworking. He put in tons of overtime when he was here.”

  Clearly Slade’s secretary was trying to put a positive face on things. Nancy decided to push harder. “He told us he solved a few cases for you, including the Anderson case,” she said.

  “Oh.” The secretary sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I like Mark, and I hate to ruin his chances of getting another job, but I honestly don’t think that detective work is the right field for him. He doesn’t handle stress very well.”

  “Oh? Why do you say that?”

  “I guess I’d say Mark is—well, unstable.”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, he gets fixated on things and he won’t listen to reason. Like the Anderson case, for example. The perpetrator is dead. The police have closed the case and so has our firm. But apparently Mark doesn’t think so, and now he’s out chasing ghosts. I probably shouldn’t say this, but I think he needs a long rest.”

  “I see,” Nancy responded. “Thanks for speaking with me. Who am I talking to, by the way?”

  “Linda Bates. I’m Mr. Slade’s secretary. Perhaps it’s best if you speak to Mr. Slade when he gets back to the office. Would you like to leave your number so he can phone you?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Nancy said quickly. “I’ll pass your comments along to my colleagues. If we feel the need, we’ll be in touch with Mr. Slade.”

  She quickly said goodbye and hung up, feeling a knot in her stomach. Linda Bates was Mark’s girlfriend—at least, she had been. Therefore, Nancy reasoned, she must know him pretty well, and she didn’t seem to think he was very reliable.

  Nancy didn’t like any of this. If Mark Rubin really was a little crazy, then he could be a pile of trouble!

  Chapter

  Three

  NANCY REMAINED in the telephone booth for a minute, wondering what to tell George and Bess. She didn’t really believe that Mark was crazy, but his story was certainly bizarre—and he was very intense.

  Still thinking about what Linda Bates had said, Nancy slowly made her way back to the table. Bess and George looked up expectantly from glasses of cold lemonade.

  “Well?” George asked. “What’d you find out?”

  Nancy sighed and sat down to a glass of lemonade, too. She knew how much Bess and George liked Mark, and she hated to disappoint them. But she also knew that she had a responsibility to be honest with them.

  “I’m starting to think we should forget the whole thing,” she told her friends.

  “What?” Bess asked in surprise.

  “We shouldn’t get involved,” Nancy told her after taking a few sips of her drink.

  “In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you say that,” Bess announced indignantly.

  George studied Nancy from across the table. “Why shouldn’t we get involved?” she asked.

  “From what I’ve heard, Mark may be a little off the wall, especially about the Anderson case. Chief McGinnis says the case is dead in the water, and he doesn’t say things like that if he’s not convinced.”

  “So you’re going to tell Mark you won’t help him?” George asked.

  “I think it’s best, George,” Nancy said.

  “Wait a minute,” Bess piped up. “We can’t let him down. Have a heart, Nan—it’ll ruin his life if he can’t prove he had nothing to do with Johnson.”

  “I
feel for him, Bess,” Nancy said, reaching across the table to pat her friend on the shoulder. “But we won’t be doing him any favors by encouraging him to continue on a wild-goose chase.”

  “Nan,” George said slowly, “if Mark’s wrong about seeing Johnson, wouldn’t the best thing be for you to prove to him that he was wrong? Wouldn’t that help him let go of it?”

  Nancy was taken aback. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “I never thought of it that way.”

  “Of course, Nan!” Bess said excitedly. “You could play along with Mark for a while—you know, humor him until he realizes his investigation isn’t going anywhere. Maybe someplace along the way you can help clear his name, too.”

  “You guys really want to rope me into this, don’t you? I guess I can’t say no.” Nancy gave a quick smile.

  “All right!” Bess shouted, almost jumping out of her seat.

  “Maybe there’ll be something to Mark’s suspicions after all, and you might wind up solving the whole case, anyway.”

  Nancy couldn’t help smiling at her friends. “Yeah, right,” she said playfully. “Your helpful attitude doesn’t have anything to do with Mark’s good looks, now, does it?”

  Bess and George both feigned innocence. Then they burst out laughing at the same time.

  “Nancy, I’m sure we don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” said Bess with a sly grin.

  • • •

  They found Mark at the take-out pizza shop where he worked. He was about to make a delivery and was holding two boxed pizzas and a bag of sodas in his hands.

  “You’ll help? Fantastic!” he cried when Nancy talked to him. He was so excited that the boxed pizzas tumbled from his hands onto the floor and landed upside down. Mark and the girls grabbed for the pizzas and picked them up. They hustled Mark out the door into the street before his boss came out from the kitchen and caught him.

  “I’m such a klutz!” Mark lamented when they were outside. “I just got so excited, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “The pizzas will be fine,” Bess assured him. “It all gets mixed up in your stomach anyway, right?”

  “They’ll still taste good,” George chimed in.

  Mark turned to Nancy, the pizzas now far from his mind. “Hey, with your experience and my instincts, how can we lose? Imagine—Rubin and Drew, Private Eyes—” He eyed George and Bess. “Or how about, Rubin, Drew, and Associates?”

  Nancy was barely able to conceal her dismay. Mark was building castles in the sky again, and she didn’t like being included in his wild plans. It seemed to confirm what Linda Bates had said about her ex-boyfriend. If Nancy was going to get involved in this, she had to bring Mark down to earth.

  “Let’s just take this one step at a time, huh, Mark?” she suggested.

  “Sure,” he said, his blue eyes still flashing.

  The three girls fell in step with Mark as he walked to his first stop. Checking the address he had written on the box, he slowed in front of a house.

  “Wait for me here, okay?” he said. “I’ve got a new angle on the case I want to tell you about.” Without waiting for an answer, he bounded up the steps.

  “I hope the customers don’t open the box before they tip him,” Nancy mused.

  Mark was back quickly, pocketing the dollar he’d gotten as a tip. “Okay, here it is. The solution to part of the mystery. It wasn’t Johnson I saw downtown the other day!”

  Bess’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t?”

  Thank goodness, thought Nancy. Mark was coming to his senses, but her hope was banished a minute later when Mark continued to speak.

  “No. Johnson had to have been killed in the helicopter explosion,” he said, “so the guy I saw must have been his twin brother!”

  “His what?” George raised her eyebrows. Nancy realized that George was beginning to have the same doubts about Mark that she herself had.

  “Johnson’s identical twin, George!” Mark continued. “Think about it. They could have been in it together, but the twin didn’t know where Christopher hid the money. Now he’s trying to find it.” He paused to check out Nancy’s reaction.

  He obviously could read the doubt written across her face, for he was suddenly less confident and much quieter. “What do you think, partner?” he asked hopefully.

  “When did you find out Johnson had a twin? When you were investigating him at Crabtree?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, no, but—”

  “I’ll tell you what, Mark,” Nancy interrupted. “You continue delivering pizzas, and I’ll make some phone calls to check out your theory. I’ll get back to you, okay?”

  “Great!” Mark exclaimed. “See you later, girls!” Flashing a grin, he ran off with the remaining box of pizza.

  “Oh, boy,” said Nancy when he was gone. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

  • • •

  Nancy dropped Bess and George off and headed for home. Her father, Carson Drew, was home early from his law office and was talking on the phone.

  Nancy and her dad were very close, probably because her mother had died when she was only three. Carson, along with a housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, had raised Nancy.

  She kissed her father on the top of the head, and when he looked up and met her eyes, she flashed him a quick smile.

  “When you’re done, I need to use the phone, Dad,” Nancy whispered.

  Carson Drew nodded and went back to his conversation. Nancy went upstairs and into her bathroom to wash up, her mind running over the day’s events.

  This wasn’t a case she was eager to work on, but she had promised, she reminded herself. The first thing she had to do was dispose of Mark’s ridiculous twin-brother theory.

  In her room Nancy changed into her favorite pair of old blue jeans and a comfortable jersey. As she dressed, she pondered whether or not to just tell Mark that Johnson had no brother. No, she decided, that wouldn’t be right. She had to have proof. That kind of information might be in his personnel file at Anderson Industries. But how could she get a look at it?

  By the time Nancy went back downstairs, she had a plan worked out. Carson Drew was through with the phone.

  “Working on a case?” her father asked.

  “I think so,” Nancy told him hesitantly.

  Carson gave her a puzzled look, so she added, “It’s complicated, Dad. I’ll explain later.”

  With a smile and a shrug, Carson went upstairs. Nancy dialed Anderson Industries.

  “Hello,” Nancy said into the phone when a receptionist answered. “I’m with Drew Estate Liquidators. We’re handling the estate of Christopher Johnson.”

  There was a short pause on the other end of the line, before the woman spoke. “Oh? How may we help you?”

  “We’re trying to determine whether the deceased had any siblings, any close relatives.”

  Within seconds, Nancy had been transferred to the personnel department, where a young man answered.

  “Ma’am, Mr. Johnson had no immediate family. He never married.”

  “I see,” Nancy said. “And there was no one else—no brothers?”

  “I doubt it,” the young man said. “He left his entire company life insurance policy to charity.”

  Nancy thanked him and put down the receiver. So much for the evil-twin theory. Now Mark Rubin would have to believe her.

  Later that evening Nancy, Bess, and George met Mark after his shift. Nancy told him what she’d found out, and Mark’s reaction completely surprised her.

  “That means it was Johnson I saw!” he said as they all piled into Nancy’s Mustang. Mark was in the front seat beside Nancy. “I knew it had to be him. Thanks to you I can make some real progress on this case, Nancy.”

  Nancy gritted her teeth. “What do you mean?” she asked, wondering if she really wanted to hear the answer to her question. “What are you going to do?”

  “Simple. The obvious place to look for clues to prove Johnson’s alive is at his house. I’m going to search it—even if I have t
o break in!”

  Chapter

  Four

  NANCY BRAKED to a stop. “Mark, you can’t break into people’s houses just like that. It’s illegal,” Nancy said. “And it’s unethical. You should know that.”

  George, who was sitting in the back next to Bess, slid down in her seat. “Nancy’s right.”

  “How unethical can it be to break into a dead man’s house?” Mark shot back. “Come on, this is a little different. We’re just going to look for clues. If we go now, we can be there in half an hour.”

  “You don’t even know what you’re looking for,” Nancy pointed out. A car behind her honked, and she stepped on the gas. “Besides, the police have already been through the house, I’m sure.”

  “They might have overlooked something,” Mark insisted. “Come on, Nancy.”

  “Sorry, Mark,” Nancy said, turning onto the avenue that led to George’s block.

  “Let me out here, then,” Mark said. “I’ll take the bus to Brewster. It may not be the most glamorous way for a private investigator to travel, but it’ll do.”

  “You’re going to take a bus all the way to Brewster?” Bess asked. She sounded amazed that it was even possible.

  “Come on,” Nancy pleaded. “Why don’t you just sleep on it?”

  “Because I don’t need to sleep on it,” Mark said firmly. “Come with me, Nancy.”

  “No way.” Nancy pulled the car over to let him out. Now, she decided, things had gone too far. It was time to put her foot down. In the back seat, even Bess was silent. It seemed that she had decided not to rush to Mark Rubin’s defense.

  “Frankly,” she said to Mark, “this whole investigation seems crazy to me.”

  Mark’s jaw was set in determination. He was silent for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle. When he spoke finally, he sounded hurt.

  “I’m sorry you see it that way,” he said, opening the car door. “But my reputation and future career are on the line here.”

  Nancy sighed and shook her head. He was right, but she couldn’t remember ever meeting anyone as persistent as Mark Rubin. “If you break into Johnson’s house,” she told him, “consider me off this case.”