Bad Times, Big Crimes

by Carolyn Keene

  I knew that the country would pull out of the Depression. History told me that. But I also knew that it would take years and years. The country had to choose a new president first. Herbert Hoover would be the president for another two years. Since he believed that the Depression was caused by problems beyond his control, he wanted local governments and individual states to handle the recovery. Of course, the local governments and individual states never had enough money. So even though Herbert Hoover told people help was on the way, he didn’t really do much to actually make this happen.

  I vaguely remembered learning that Franklin Delano Roosevelt would really help pull the country out of trouble. He set up a program called the New Deal that created lots of jobs and relief agencies, and helped end hunger and homelessness. It wouldn’t just be FDR who would turn things around though. It would also be World War II. The war effort would require lots of supplies, and that required lots of workers. With the war, there would be plenty of jobs to go around. People would have enough money to buy things again.

  But that’d take, what… eleven years?

  Huh. It seemed that being in the middle of history was bringing all those history lessons back. And it was depressing me big-time.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, can you spare some change?” asked a young man on another street corner.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, searching my pockets. “I’m all out. But are you hungry?” I handed him all that I had: an apple.

  “Yes, thank you,” he said.

  When I finally made it back home, I was exhausted and depressed. But there was no time for moping around.

  “Hannah, I’m back,” I called.

  She came bustling out of the kitchen. Her hair was a mess, and her apron was on crooked.

  “Problem?” I asked.

  “You can say that,” she replied.

  “What did the Smith children do now?”

  “They broke the crystal vase in the entryway. Well, they didn’t exactly. One of their dogs did. What are their names? Stinky and Smelly?”

  “Spot and Sniffles, I believe.” I looked around. The house was strangely quiet. “Where is everyone?”

  “Sylvia and Bob took their kids to the park for the afternoon, so I could get a few hours of peace. They felt so bad, poor folks. They promised to pay us back for the broken things. I told them not to worry. As my greataunt Gertrude’s husband’s brother always said, ‘Things are just things.’”

  Same old Hannah, spouting bits of Gruen wisdom.

  “I’m glad you told them that,” I said. “Broken vases are the least of my concerns. And I’m so sorry, Hannah. I know this is much harder on you than it is on me and Dad.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” said Hannah. “Excluding the pets, they’re a wonderful family, and I’m proud of you for taking them in.” She paused for a minute. “Of course, I’d rather they had one less pet.”

  “Well, what can I do to help you?” I asked.

  Hannah sighed and glanced around. “Let’s start by putting away all of the breakables,” she said. “Or I should say, let’s put away all the breakables that haven’t already been broken.”

  “Leave it to me.” I rolled up my sleeves. “I’ll start in the living room.”

  An hour later, as I was wrapping the last of the dining-room crystal in newspaper, there was a knock on the door.

  It was Bess and George. “How did you get here so quickly?” I asked.

  “Dad let me borrow the car,” said Bess, pointing toward the curb. There was a black Model T Ford parked in front of the house.

  “Wow,” I said, walking outside so I could get a closer look. It was so cool-looking. Black and really boxy, with small tires. I’d only seen pictures of those cars before. Of course, by this point, I knew not to actually admit this out loud.

  “Yes, don’t I wish it was mine,” said Bess. “Dad hardly ever lets me drive it.”

  “Which is really unfair, since you’re the one who’s always fixing it,” George added. “But that’s not important now. Nancy, we have exciting news! I searched the archives for hours, and you’ll never guess what I found.”

  “Well, come on inside and tell me all about it,” I said.

  Bess and George followed me up to my room, which, I wasn’t so surprised to discover, was a complete mess. Eliza and Betty’s bed was unmade, which wasn’t a big deal. But mine was, too, even though I’d made it first thing in the morning. Clothes were scattered all over the floor. And the box where we’d stored Daisy the frog was empty. I really hoped Betty had Daisy with her. Otherwise Hannah might be in for another scare.

  “Sorry about the mess,” I said as I remade my bed.

  “Oh, that’s not important,” said Bess. “Turns out your hunch was right on the money. Clay and Loretta have been all over the place.”

  “Wherever they go they leave the town poorer.” George handed me her notes. “They just left Chicago last week. They swindled a bunch of money out of people, with a story about a fake building project.”

  “A casino?” I asked.

  George nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “Plus, four banks were robbed in Chicago, and four in Kansas City the week before that,” said Bess.

  “Oh, dear,” I said. “It’s worse than I’d thought.”

  I’d managed to convince Chief McGinnis to set up the roadblock. That was good. But it wasn’t good enough. I was sure that the Gaines group had a lot more work to do in River Heights. And I wanted to stop them, before more people suffered like the Smiths.

  “What are we going to do?” Bess asked. “Please tell me you have a plan.”

  A slow smile crept to my face. “Actually, I do.”

  “What is it?” asked George.

  “I’ll tell you in a minute,” I said. I headed out into the hallway, where the phone was sitting on a small table. Like Bess’s dad’s car, it was big, black, and boxy. Picking up the receiver, I was surprised by how heavy it was. I dialed Ned’s number on the rotary dial. Luckily it was still the same number I’d always known. “Ned,” I said, “it’s Nancy. Can you do me a favor?”

  “Anything for you.”

  “I need to borrow three suits and three hats.”

  “Excuse me?” asked Ned.

  “Three suits and three hats,” I repeated. “Can you spare them for a day or so?”

  “I don’t think I have three,” said Ned. “But I suppose I can bring you my spare one, and two of my dad’s. You said it’s to borrow, right? You’re sure I’ll get them back.”

  “Positive.”

  “Want to tell me what this is all about?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll tell you as soon as I’m ready to return them.”

  Hanging up the phone, I smiled at my friends. “This is going to be great!”

  “So what’s the plan?” Bess wondered.

  “Either of you happen to know how to play poker?” I asked.

  11

  Deuces Wild

  Of course not,” said Bess, just as George was saying, “I sure do.”

  “Great,” I said to George. “How long will it take for you to teach me and Bess?”

  “How quickly do you need to learn?” asked George.

  “As soon as possible,” I replied. “Like, within the next two hours would be perfect.”

  “Sure,” said George. “All I need is a deck of cards.”

  Last I’d seen the cards they were in the den, in the cabinet next to the DVD player. In my normal world, that is. “Better ask Hannah,” I said. “She’ll know where to find them.”

  As George left the room Bess turned to me and asked, “Why do we need to know how to play poker?”

  “How else are we going to catch Clay and his friends cheating if we don’t play with them?”

  “Okay, that makes sense. But there’s no way they’ll ever let us into the casino,” said Bess.

  “Unless we’re dressed like men,” I said. “Which is why Ned is bringing over the suits.”


  Bess grinned. “It’s going to be an interesting night.”

  “I sure hope so,” I said.

  When George returned with the cards, we sat down on my floor. “Okay,” she said. “Lesson number one: Poker is played with one deck of cards. There are fifty-two cards in a deck. They’re broken up into four suits: clubs, diamonds, spades, and hearts. There are thirteen of each. The cards are numbered from two to ten, and there are three royal cards: the jack, the queen, and the king. The ace is both the lowest card—a one—and it’s also considered the highestranking card in the deck, even beating the king.” George looked up at us. “Is everyone with me so far?”

  Bess and I nodded.

  “Good,” said George. “Lesson number two: All poker hands contain five cards. Each player gets to play with one hand. And the highest hand wins.”

  “Simple,” I said.

  “So far, yes,” George said as she shuffled. “Here’s where it starts to get complicated. Often people play what’s called deuces wild. In that version of the game, the four twos can be anything you want them to be. In deuces wild, the best kind of hand is five of a kind—five of the same card. Five aces is the best five-of-a-kind hand. The next-best hand is five kings, then five queens, and so on. This goes on, all the way down to two.”

  Bess pulled a notebook from her purse and started writing things down.

  “If you’re not playing deuces wild,” said George, “a royal flush is a great hand. A straight flush is next best. That means five cards of the same suit, in order. For example, if you have a five, six, seven, eight, and nine, and they’re all hearts, that’s great. Of course, a nine-ten-jack-queen-king is even better, because the king is higher than the nine. Get it?”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Good.”

  “How do you know so much about poker?” asked Bess. “You don’t gamble, do you?”

  George blushed. “No. But you know I like to be prepared.”

  George went on to tell us what a full house is: three of a kind, and a pair. And also what a flush is: a hand where all the cards are of the same suit, even if they aren’t in order. It got so confusing that she had to take a clean sheet of paper from Bess’s notebook and make us a list.

  The best possible hands were as follows:

  1. Five of a kind (if playing with deuces wild).

  2. A royal flush. The ace through ten of the same suit.

  3. A straight flush. Five cards in a row from the same suit, for example, a king, queen, jack, ten, nine, all diamonds.

  4. Four of a kind. All aces is the ultimate, then comes four or five kings, then four or five queens, and so on.

  5. A full house. Three of a kind and a pair. Three tens and two aces, for example.

  6. A flush. Five cards of the same suit, although not necessarily in order. A four, eight, ten, jack, king, all in hearts, is a flush.

  7. A straight. Five cards in order, in a mix of suits. A three, four, five, six, seven, eight, in a mix of diamonds and clubs, is a straight.

  8. Three of a kind. Three kings.

  9. Two pair. Two kings and two queens.

  10. Two of a kind. Two jacks.

  11. If no one has any of the above ten hands, then the person with the highest card wins.

  After all this I was a little confused, I’ll admit—but George is such a great explainer that I didn’t really have any big questions.

  “And that’s it?” asked Bess.

  “Sure is,” George replied. “Now we’ll get down to the actual betting. It’s always done in a clockwise motion. The person to the left of the dealer goes first.…” Using pretty clear terms, she finished explaining.

  When she was done, I had another important question. “How does one cheat?”

  “There are lots of ways,” said George. “Clay and his friends could be playing together, in teams. That’s illegal. Now, there’s no talking allowed in poker, but they could have developed secret signals. You know, ‘I’ll pull an ear if I’ve got a straight flush,’ that sort of thing.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  George nodded. “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘He’s got an ace up his sleeve’?”

  “Sure,” said Bess. “Oh—so that means, literally, someone is hiding an ace?”

  “Exactly,” said George. “And they could be marking cards too.”

  “Marking cards?” I wondered.

  “Say Clay always wants to know who has the ace of spades. He’ll dog-ear it slightly. Then he can follow it throughout the game. He’ll always know who has it.”

  “Sneaky,” I said.

  “I know,” said George, shuffling the cards. “Okay. If we’re actually going to roam into a casino tonight, we should play a few rounds—make sure we look like we know what we’re doing.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  “Now should we play five-card stud? Or draw poker?” asked George.

  “Huh?” Bess and I asked.

  “Oh, right,” said George. “I guess I still have some explaining to do.”

  George taught us both games. Eventually it all started making sense.

  During our third practice round of draw poker, I heard the doorbell ring.

  “I’ve got it!” I cried. Racing down the steps, I flung the door open. “Ned! I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Ned peeked out at me from behind his pile of suits. “I wasn’t sure what you needed these for, so I brought a bunch.”

  “Thank you,” I said, opening the door wider so he could actually fit through.

  Just then I saw my dad walking up the front steps to the porch.

  “Great, you’re home,” I said. “Can I borrow the car tonight?”

  “Well, hello to you too, Nancy. And how was your day?” Dad asked with a grin.

  “Sorry, Dad. Hello.” I waited as long as I could—probably less than three seconds. “So… can I borrow the car?”

  My dad handed me the keys. “I know better than to stop you,” he said. “What’s with the suits?”

  “Uh, clothing drive,” I said. “They’re for the needy.”

  Ned jabbed me with his elbow and gave me a questioning look.

  “Wonderful,” said my dad. “I’ll clear out my closet tonight. I probably have a couple to donate.”

  “Great.” I felt bad lying to my dad. At the same time, if I told him the truth—that I was going to dress up like a guy so I could get into a casino to play cards with some ruthless gangsters—well, he might have had a problem with that.

  As Ned placed the suits on the couch and took off his hat, Bess and George came running downstairs. In fact, they were moving so fast they almost crashed into my dad, who was making his way up the stairs.

  “Hi, girls. Where’s the fire?” my dad asked.

  “Sorry, Mr. Drew,” said George.

  “Please pardon us,” Bess added.

  My dad just chuckled to himself and continued on his way.

  When they made it downstairs, I held one of the suit jackets up to George’s shoulders. “The smallest ones will probably work best. Think that’ll fit you?”

  “I’ll let you know in a few minutes,” said George, grabbing the suit and heading for the bathroom.

  “These are for you?” asked Ned.

  “Of course,” I said.

  Ned shook his head. “Nancy Drew, what are you doing now?”

  “No time to explain.” I stood up on my toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I promise I’ll tell you first thing in the morning.”

  “And I guess that’s my cue to leave,” said Ned, placing his hat back on his head.

  “Bye,” I said, smiling.

  Ned waved to me and said, “Pearls in your oysters!”

  Once I closed the door, Bess sighed and said, “Ned’s such a sweetheart. You’re a lucky girl, Nancy Drew.”

  “Yes, I know,” I said. “But what was that nonsense about pearls in your oysters?”

  “Nonsense?” asked Bess. “It means good-bye and good wi
shes. You know that.”

  “Oh, right,” I said, sinking down into the overstuffed chair. “That darn amnesia strikes again.”

  How long could I play that card? I hoped as long as I was here.…

  Moments later George strutted into the room, fully decked out in a navy, pinstriped suit with a matching hat. “How do I look?” she asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

  12

  A Little Help from Horsehair

  Fifteen minutes later we were standing in front of the mirror, all three of us decked out in the Nickersons’ old suits. George was sticking with the navy pinstripe. I was in charcoal gray. And Bess was sporting a dark brown, three-piece number. Bess and I had pinned our hair up under our hats. We’d also cinched the waist of George’s pants, and hemmed the cuffs of mine with safety pins. So basically, after those minor adjustments, I would say we looked all right. Not completely masculine, but boyish enough to pass, I hoped.

  George frowned. “Something isn’t quite right,” she said. “But I can’t put my finger on it.”

  I knew exactly what she was talking about. I turned to Bess. Not only was she dressed the part—she was also slouching in her best imitation of a gangster. Yet she still looked so feminine. It was amazing.

  I snapped my fingers. “I know what to do.”

  “Let me stay at home?” Bess joked. “Because if you don’t want me to face these gangsters, I can live with that. They can be pretty dangerous—and I can’t say I’m all that excited about trying to trick them!”

  “But we need you, Bess,” I replied. “Let’s stop by the Randalls’ horse farm on our way downtown. It’s still a mile down the road, right?”

  “It sure is,” said George. “What are we going to do there?”

  “You’ll see,” I replied. “Everyone ready?”

  “Sure. Who’s driving?” asked Bess.

  “I think we’d better take two cars. We’ll be less conspicuous if we arrive separately,” I said.

  “Good point,” Bess said as she pulled down the corners of her vest.