Double Crossing

by Carolyn Keene

  "I'd like to speak to Miss Whitman," Frank said.

  "Faith! Put on your ears! You've got a guest!" Miss Hallock said loudly.

  A Nancy Drew &> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  Faith Whitman, in a pink jogging suit, stopped knitting and picked up her hearing aid.

  "Miss Whitman," Frank said, "one of the dealers in the casino said that you left your room key in the casino."

  "Oh, did I?" Faith asked in her sweet, patient voice. She looked in her purse and said, "No. I've got it."

  Frank just sat there, looking at her, and all at once the old woman knew that he had tricked her. She stared angrily at him and then grinned sheepishly at her roommate.

  "Faith!" Lillian Hallock sounded shocked. "Gambling? You know I disapprove."

  "Were you in the casino the night your cabin was broken into?" Frank asked.

  Faith didn't say anything at first. Then she said, "Sit down, Lillian, and keep your white pills ready. Yes, I was gambling that night, and I had a wonderful time. I won three thousand dollars."

  "Were you playing blackjack, and was the money stolen later that night?" Frank asked

  She nodded. "Easy come, easy go," she said sadly.

  "I'm sorry I tricked you, Miss Whitman," said Frank. "But if we're going to catch this thief, we've got to get at the truth."

  Double Crossing

  It was almost dinnertime when Frank went over what he had learned with Joe. They were sitting at the bar just outside the casino, talking quietly, keeping their eyes on the blackjack table across the room.

  "I can't believe the thief is Wendy," Joe said, watching the pretty dealer shuffle and deal cards with quick grace.

  "It's a beautiful setup," Frank said. "She knows exactly who to hit."

  "So what do we do?" Joe said. "Set her up?"

  "Something like that," Frank said. "I have an idea."

  Just then Joe saw Jack Freeman motioning to him from the roulette wheel.

  "I'll be right back," Joe said. "I've got to go have a 'little talk' with someone."

  "Can I get you anything, Frank?" Rick the bartender asked, sauntering over.

  "Just a soda," Frank said.

  Rick disappeared for a minute to take care of the passengers first. The bar was getting more and more crowded. When he brought Frank's drink, he asked, "You seem disturbed, buddy. What's on your mind?"

  Frank just smiled and sipped his drink. "Tastes bitter, Rick. Sure this isn't diet?"

  "Must have the carbonation set up too high," Rick said. "I'll make an adjustment."

  But in the next minute Frank had to make

  A Nancy Drew & Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  an adjustment too—an adjustment to the room starting to spin. Voices echoed in his head, and the sounds felt as though they would break through his skull.

  Before Frank knew what was happening, he was slipping off his barstool. As the horrified patrons watched, he fell to the floor—out cold!

  Chapter Seventeen

  G,

  eorge Fayne's strong arms reached and pulled. The rowing machine in the gym stretched her legs and then her back. Its computer read-out screen was telling her how fast and how far she had rowed and how well the other boat in the simulated race was doing. But it couldn't tell her what she really wanted to know—what was in the mind of the silver-haired man two rowing machines down from her?

  It was almost the dinner hour—George's least favorite time for a workout. But she knew that Pete Porter, the ship's first mate, always

  A Nancy Drew &> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  worked out at that time of day. In fact, after following him around for six hours, George knew a whole lot more about Pete Porter than she ever wanted to. What she didn't know was whether he also had a secret life—as Andrei Bessmerkov.

  Finally he stopped rowing and climbed off the machine. He flipped a towel around his thick neck and sat down on a nearby bench. Leaning his forearms on his thighs, he breathed deeply.

  "Win the race?" George asked, turning off her computer screen.

  "Always," Pete said, wiping his dripping face with his towel. He caught George looking at the tattoo on the inside of his right biceps.

  "Navy, right?" George asked, feeling his eyes watch her every move.

  Pete said, "For a while." He didn't smile or stop staring at her. "Why the sudden interest? You haven't said two words to me all summer."

  "Sorry," George murmured. "I was just being friendly." With that, she walked away as if he had hurt her feelings.

  Just as she hoped, Pete was waiting for her outside the women's locker room.

  "I didn't mean to be hostile in there," he said, buttoning the jacket of his white evening uniform. An unlit pipe with a white bowl was

  Double Crossing

  clamped in his teeth. "There's just a lot of snooping going on," Pete explained. "That photographer and busboy are into something, and your friend the detective is too. I guess if people know someone's snooping around, they wonder if it's about them."

  "If they've got something to hide, I suppose," said George, meeting his eyes.

  "Everybody has something to hide, honey. Even Santa Claus," Pete Porter said with a laugh. They started walking out of the gym. "Well, it's the last night before we dock. Are you ready for your Fancy Dress Ball?"

  What do I have to do to get him to light his pipe, George wondered. Ask to smoke it myself?

  "I guess so," George said, watching him finally take a silver lighter out of his pocket.

  Then, before he lit his pipe, he asked, "Do you mind?"

  Do I mind? George said to herself. I've been waiting all day to smell your tobacco!

  "Oh, no—I love the smell of a pipe," George lied.

  Bluish white clouds encircled them both as Pete lit up. George smelled a sweet smell.

  "That's nice. Special tobacco?" She sniffed the air.

  "Nah," he said, "it's just an ordinary blend. Why spend good money on something you're

  A Nancy Drew &> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  going to burn? One of these days I'm going to quit smoking, anyway."

  George kept the smile on her face although she wanted to let it fall. She couldn't believe it. Pete Porter's tobacco was plain, ordinary tobacco, and he was probably just a plain, ordinary first mate. She'd wasted hours on him, when she could have been with David!

  As she headed back to her cabin through an open lounge area, she wondered if everyone else had struck out too.

  Frank Hardy felt as though he had swapped legs with a rubber doll. His feet were big and heavy, and they didn't work very well. His head didn't feel too good either.

  "Just keep walking," a familiar voice said.

  "Who are you?" Frank asked thickly.

  "Oh, boy, you're really in bad shape, Frank," the voice replied. That's when Frank realized that his arm was around his brother's shoulder. Joe was holding him up and forcing him to walk up and down the deck.

  "What happened?" Frank asked, feeling the sting of the wind on his face.

  "Somebody sent you on a little trip to never-never land," Joe replied. "I saw you fall and ran right over. But keep walking now. You're starting to make sense."

  Double Crossing

  "Oh, man—" Frank moaned. "I have a killer headache—"

  "Big brother, there was more than cola in that drink I found in front of you. You've been out for an hour. Someone's on to us. Maybe they heard us talking."

  "Who?" Frank asked as he began to walk shakily on his own.

  "That's what I'm going to find out as soon as I get you into this chair." Joe helped his brother into a deck chair and felt his head.

  "Okay, Bresson—you're going to live. But I want you to stay right here and keep breathing this fresh ocean air. I'll be back," said Joe. And before Frank could ask him where he was going, Joe was off.

  "Frank? Hello? Anybody home?" Nancy said, knocking on the door to the ship's photography office and darkroom.

  It was nine o'clock that
night, and Nancy was worried. On the Princess and Palace decks, the gala Fancy Dress Ball was in full swing. Nancy had put on her silver evening gown, and silver shoes and jewelry, but she wished she could have been wearing her running clothes. There wasn't much time left before the ship docked in Miami, and she needed to work fast.

  A Nancy Drew & Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  In the morning Bessmerkov would waltz off the ship. And, as Connor had pointed out, the Russian agent might plant the disks on an unsuspecting passenger, then murder that person to get the disks back!

  Nancy had made one pass through the ballroom—just long enough to get covered with streamers and confetti—and then she went off, looking for Frank. By now she had expected him to be up to his elbows in photography chemicals. He had to have the cruise photos printed by morning for the passengers who had ordered them.

  "Frank?"

  She knocked again and then went in. Maybe he was in the darkroom and couldn't hear her. She was eager to talk with Frank—he was always full of good ideas. Besides, Nancy was curious to know how the gambling lead had worked out.

  Nancy was in the photography office, which had a small darkroom just off it. "Frank?" she called out a third time. Her voice echoed slightly in the outer room, which was filled with tall metal filing cabinets. She turned on some of the lights.

  Maybe he'll be here in a minute, she thought, looking around.

  The outer office was like a scrapbook filled

  Double Crossing

  with remembrances of the cruise. Contact sheets and developed pictures were stacked in piles everywhere, according to subject matter and day of the cruise. The walls, too, were covered with prints from all the high moments of the trip.

  Nancy walked slowly past the picture gallery and toward the darkroom. At first she didn't see the large frameless mirror covering the darkroom door, and jumped at her own reflection. Then, since there was no warning light flashing above the darkroom door, she opened it.

  More prints, more negatives, and the strong odor of photography chemicals. But no Frank.

  Behind her the office door opened, not all the way, just a little.

  It startled Nancy. "Frank?" she called out.

  But no one answered.

  "Frank," she said louder.

  Still no one answered. So Nancy came out to take a look. As she left the darkroom, the outer door closed.

  The studio was empty. Nancy opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was empty too. Just someone looking for pictures, probably, she told herself. But she had to admit to herself that it could have been Bessmerkov, for didn't he know every move she made?

  A Nancy Drew &> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  She returned to the outer office.

  "Hello, Andrei," Nancy said, turning around and scanning the room. But there was no one there. She was alone.

  Now Nancy took a good look at all the photos on the walls—all the happy passengers of the S.S. Duchess.

  Okay, which one of you is Bessmerkov, she wondered. I know you're up there somewhere. He had to be up there somewhere! But how could she find him?

  Nancy stared and stared at the photos. There had to be a clue in them, somewhere— something that would give her the key to the mystery. But what? She could go through the photos forever, but unless she knew exactly what she was looking for, she'd never find her man.

  Well, there was no time to wait for the Hardys. They were busy catching their thief. I'll just write Frank a note, she decided. Then she opened the middle drawer of the desk and almost cried out aloud.

  There, glinting up at her in the dim light, was the gold cuff link! But why was it in Frank's drawer? She figured George must have asked him to keep it safe.

  Of course! Nancy had forgotten all about the missing cuff link that no one had claimed.

  Double Crossing

  After all that had happened since, she knew it had to be Bessmerkov's. That was why he didn't dare come forward to identify it.

  Suddenly the adrenaline surged through Nancy. There wasn't a moment to waste. She wrote Frank a hurried note, tore all the photos from the wall, grabbed up all the piles of them from the desk, and ran back to her cabin.

  The cuff link! She couldn't believe she'd been so blind. Bessmerkov didn't want it back because it proved he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be—on deck, throwing Marcy Durbanville over the side of the ship.

  As Nancy ran down the hallways, she clutched the precious photos and cuff link to her.

  If Andrei Bessmerkov was wearing the cuff link the first night of the cruise, wasn't it possible that Frank took a photo of it sometime that first day?

  That did eliminate most of the photos in her stack, but still, this was going to take hours— and a magnifying glass. She could unscrew the large lenses from her binoculars to use as magnifying glasses. And, after the dance, she could get George to help her go through the photos. But there wasn't much time. And they had to catch Bessmerkov.

  A Nancy Drew &> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  If only Frank and Joe were there to help! Where in the world were they?

  "Hey, here's one of you dancing with David," Nancy said to George later that night.

  "Oh—" George said with a little smile, taking the photo from hef friend and studying it carefully. "I think I'll keep that one." She tucked the photo in her dresser drawer and then went on.

  They'd been at it for two hours without success. Frank had taken hundreds and hundreds of pictures.

  "I haven't seen you and David together lately," Nancy said. "How're things going?"

  George sighed. "He's been really weird to me since Cozumel," she said. "I think seeing the body really freaked him out."

  "It freaked all of them out," added Nancy.

  "Yeah, well, ever since then he's been kind of distant. And then I got busy helping you. You know, he hasn't even asked to see me after the cruise," she said.

  "Oh, George," said Nancy, hugging her friend. "He'll come around. You'll see."

  "And if he doesn't, I'll just have to get over him," George said.

  Nancy was silent.

  Double Crossing George whispered, "I fell really hard for the

  guy."

  "Maybe it'll work out," said Nancy. "Thanks for helping me on this. It's very important."

  "I know." George dried her eyes on her sleeve and went back to looking through photos.

  So did Nancy. People suntanning, George teaching her aerobics classes, some kids making rude faces at Frank, couples posing with the comedian in the nightclub.

  "This is crazy, Nancy," George said.

  "I know."

  Nancy picked up another photo and stared at it hard. Then she did a double take.

  "George! Look! I just found the other gold cufflink!"

  George leapt over to Nancy's side. "Who is it?" she cried excitedly.

  "It's me, I'm afraid."

  Both girls froze when they heard the voice. Baron von Hoffman!

  "Please don't turn around. I'm holding a very large gun in my hands."

  There was a moment of frozen silence. Then, in a split second, Nancy pushed George with one hand and flipped off the light switch with the other.

  A Nancy Drew 6=> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  "Get down, George!" she shouted into the darkness.

  Ping!

  Nancy knew that sound all too well. A silencer!

  "George!" Nancy shouted. "Are you okay?"

  There was no answer—just deathly silence.

  Chapter Eighteen

  J

  oe Hardy sat at the bar, shaking his head. "Rick, I just can't believe it," he said. "Why would anybody want to put knockout drops in Frank's drink?"

  "Beats me." Rick's casual shrug made Joe boil, but he couldn't afford to show how angry he was. Not now. Not here.

  "Well, Rick—you put the drink in front of him. Who was sitting at the bar within reach? It was crowded, right?"

  Rick eyed him suspiciously, then seemed to relax a bi
t. "Yeah, it was real crowded. Packed, in fact. Could've been anybody."

  A Nancy Drew &> Hardy Boys SuperMystery

  From where he was seated, Joe had a perfect view of the blackjack table in the casino. Wendy was a good dealer, and her table was popular. But no one was winning anything big tonight. Did she know that Joe was watching her? He couldn't tell.

  "Say, Rick," he said when the bartender came over to him again. "What's the time?"

  "Nearly ten," Rick answered. "What's your hurry?"

  "I'm late," Joe said, climbing off the bar-stool. "Busing a special party in the captain's cabin. It's supposed to last till two—but I hope it won't go that late."

  There. Now Rick knew he'd be out of the picture till two a.m. Would he and Wendy feel safe enough to strike?

  Outside, Joe found Frank heading in the direction of the kitchen.

  "Could we be wrong about this, Frank? If Rick didn't fix your drink, who did?" Joe said.

  "I've been thinking about that," Frank said, "and I came up with only one name: Bessmerkov."

  "Bessmerkov?" Joe supposed it was possible. Still, there was something about the bartender— Joe grabbed a croissant off a tray as they walked through the clattering, noisy kitchen and bit into it.

  Double Crossing

  "Hey! Keep your hands to yourself and off my croissants!" yelled a chef.

  "Government inspectors!" Joe yelled back. "How'd you like a citation for being flakier than your pastry?"

  Frank shook his head disapprovingly, but he had to laugh.

  "Come on, Frank," said his brother. "A man's got to eat." And so saying, he popped the rest of the croissant into his mouth.

  They walked out of the kitchen and through another door leading into a dark, empty office. One wall of the room had large windows covered with drapes. And when the brothers looked through the drapes, they were looking down on the gambling casino.

  "Sometimes they watch new dealers from up here," Joe said. "That's why the windows are one-way mirrored glass."

  Frank looked down on Wendy, working her table below them.