“Ready to go, Trish?” Mr. O’Connell asked, his car keys in hand.
“Oh, Dad,” Trish said. “I have bad news.” She quickly filled him in on what had just happened.
Mr. O’Connell seemed distracted as he listened to his daughter.
“What a mess,” he said finally, giving Trish a hug.
“This is one of the worst days of my whole life,” Trish said, unable to hold back her tears.
“Mine, too,” her father said.
“I know.” Trish sniffed. “Nancy told me about the Optoboard chips.”
“George and I were on the press level when it was taken, Mr. O’Connell,” said Nancy as she and George stepped closer to him.
“Some clever ploy that thief used,” Mr. O’Connell muttered bitterly. “Setting up my guards like that. They’re good men, too.”
“Mr. O’Connell,” Nancy said. “I have reason to suspect a person I saw here in the arena.”
Trish’s father raised his eyebrows and stared right at Nancy “Oh? You do?” he asked. “That’s right, you’re a detective, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Nancy replied. “I’m not certain about this, but I saw a man come out of the power room door yesterday,” Nancy said. “He was wearing a press pass, and as far as I could tell, he had no reason to be anywhere near that door. I suspect he tampered with the lock so he could cause the blackout to give him cover to steal the chip.”
Mr. O’Connell said, “Can you tell me anything else about him, Nancy?”
Nancy gave him a brief description of the man. “He had a slight foreign accent, but he definitely knew enough English to read the sign on the door.”
“Foreign accent? What kind?” Mr. O’Connell asked.
“German, I think. Why?”
Trish’s father scowled. “Interesting. Lots of firms have a big interest in the circuit board design and the chips, but there’s one particular German firm that wants it badly. I’ll call my office now and give them your description of the man. Maybe they can come up with a name to match. Too bad we don’t have a photograph.”
Nancy nodded. “Unfortunately, he’s probably long gone by now, and the chips with him.”
“Maybe,” Mr. O’Connell said. “But maybe not. He might just stay here—it would be the best cover. If this fellow is a well-known corporate spy it won’t be easy for him to get out of the country with the chip. Customs keeps a long list of corporate spies, their whereabouts, and their aliases. He’ll have to be very clever.”
“He’s already proven he’s clever,” Nancy pointed out. “My idea, though, is to keep track of him through his accomplice. If we can find her and get her to confess then we’ll have our thief and the proof to hold him.”
Mr. O’Connell raised his eyebrows. “The girl who screamed is an accomplice?” he asked.
George nodded. “She left some sequins behind,” George put in. “Show him, Nan.”
Nancy fished the sequins out of her pocket and held them out to Mr. O’Connell.
His face fell. “These look familiar,” he said softly. “Trish?”
“Yes?” Trish came closer and looked at the sequins.
“Aren’t these like the ones on one of your costumes?” her father asked.
“I don’t think so,” Trish said. “I do have blue sequins on my freestyle costume for my long program, but I haven’t even unpacked it yet.”
Mr. O’Connell was obviously relieved. “Let’s talk again soon,” he told Nancy. “Right now, I want to make some calls and get some dinner. If you spot that fellow hanging around, try to get a photograph.”
“What an afternoon,” George said as she and Nancy watched the O’Connells walk off. “Nancy, you don’t think she stole those skates, do you?”
“I doubt it, George,” Nancy answered.
“Well, we’ve still got a couple of hours before the men’s singles,” George said. “Want to catch some dinner?”
“I am hungry,” Nancy admitted. “Want to invite Kevin to join us?”
George sighed. “I wish I could, but he said he’d be too busy,” she said. “I understand, but I sort of wish he’d find a little time to spend with me.”
She looked up into the stands. “In fact, there he is, in the back row, interviewing Ann Lasser.”
“Come on, George,” Nancy said gently. “Give him a break. Interviewing skaters is his job.”
“Well, he sure is an overachiever,” George grumbled. “Or at least he was with Veronica. Anyway, I’m famished.”
Nancy was glad to change the subject to something neutral. “Me, too,” she said.
“Want to try Harper’s?” George suggested. “It’s not far from here, and Kevin said the food was pretty good.”
“Okay,” Nancy agreed, starting for the exit. When they stepped outside, Nancy noticed an expensive-looking silver sedan with dark-tinted windows parked at the curb. As they walked out toward the street, Gilbert Fleischman hurried past them with quick strides. He slipped into the passenger side of the car, and, in the next moment, the car drove away.
Nancy stopped short. In the split second that the door had been open, she saw the woman who was behind the wheel of the car. “Fran Higgins was driving that car,” Nancy told George. “She’s a reporter for the Morning Sun.”
“But the judges aren’t allowed to talk to the press,” George said, her brown eyes opening wide.
“I know,” Nancy replied as they continued on their way to her car. “There’s a lot of funny business going on around here, George. First, there’s a paper clip on the ice. Then, a skater gets a threatening message and another one has her skates stolen. There’s the blackout, and the Opto circuit board and chips are stolen.”
“And now the judge goes riding off with someone from the press,” George added, “which everyone knows is a no-no.”
“So what does it all add up to?” Nancy asked, making her way to her Mustang. “If someone is sabotaging the skaters, does it have anything to do with the stolen Opto chips?”
George shrugged. “Beats me,” she said.
Nancy opened her car door, got in, and snapped her seat belt, still puzzling over all that had happened. “I didn’t think this would happen, George, but somehow, we’re in the middle of a case!”
Nancy turned the ignition, and soon the girls were off, riding toward the town of Montgomery. Harper’s was conveniently located on the main street, just at the edge of the downtown area.
“This looks nice,” George said after they entered the restaurant. A sign propped up on a small table in the entryway read: “Please wait to be seated.” Next to the sign were two velvet love seats and a row of large palm plants.
“I wonder where the hostess is?” Nancy said, gazing at the crowded tables.
“Please,” a female voice pleaded from behind the plants, catching Nancy’s attention. “Please, let’s not fight.”
The voice sounded familiar. Nancy peered through the leaves of the plants to see Yoko Hamara sitting with her coach and a young man.
“My sister knows her routine upside down and backward, Adderly,” the young man was insisting. “She’s giving a hundred percent for this competition!”
“A champion has to give more than a hundred percent, Ito,” the coach said firmly.
“The way you want to work her, she’ll burn out!” Ito Hamara shot back.
“I’ve gotten her this far.” Brian sniffed once.
“Oh?” Ito countered. “Well, I disagree with that. In fact, Yoko might be better off with a coach who’ll give her a little respect. Maybe she should think about changing coaches!”
At that Brian Adderly stood up and threw down his napkin. “Oh? Are you threatening to fire me? Just when I’ve brought your sister to the top levels of competition?” he fumed. “Then all I can say is, do it! Go ahead and ruin her career!”
He turned to Yoko and bent down so that his face was just inches from hers. “Getting rid of me now would be extremely self-destructive, Yoko. Self-destructive and dangerous. If you
do it, you’ll be sorry. I can promise you that.”
Chapter
Seven
NICE GUY,” George whispered sarcastically as she and Nancy listened to Brian Adderly’s hard-edged speech.
Nancy put a finger to her lips. She wanted to hear the rest of what was being said.
“Oh?” Ito huffed. “So changing coaches would be dangerous? Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“I’ve had enough of this conversation!” Brian raged. “And I’ve had enough of your interference, too! Good night!” The coach stalked away from the table just as the hostess walked up to Nancy and George.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” the hostess said with a smile. “Two for dinner?”
“Yes,” George answered, her attention on the angry coach who was now walking by them on his way out of the restaurant.
The hostess smiled pleasantly. “I have a booth in the No Smoking section,” she said, leading Nancy and George into the dining area. To get to their table, the girls had to pass Yoko and her brother, who sat silently finishing their beverages.
Nancy’s heart went out to the petite skater. It had to be hard to have a coach and brother fighting over her.
“Hi, Yoko,” Nancy said, pausing momentarily as the hostess continued to lead George to a booth. “Will you be at the men’s competition tonight?”
The almond-eyed skater smiled weakly and shook her head. “I’m planning to take a hot bath and get to bed early,” she said. “My coach wants me at practice by five in the morning. I lead off the short program.”
“Well, if I don’t see you before then,” Nancy said, “good luck.”
“Thanks,” said Yoko.
“Oh, by the way,” Nancy added, “are you missing any blue sequins from your costume?”
Yoko gave Nancy a puzzled look. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “My costume is green.”
“Okay, then. ’Bye,” Nancy said and went to join George at their booth.
George peeked over the top of a large red-and-black menu when Nancy slipped into the booth. “That Brian seems like a slave driver,” George noted. “But do you really think he was threatening Yoko?”
“Maybe not,” Nancy replied as she picked up her menu and opened it. “But I suppose you never know with a guy like that. He seems awfully intense and emotional.”
“Yum,” George interrupted and licked her lips. “They have pasta primavera.”
Nancy quickly shut her menu. “Great. I’ll have it, too.”
“There they are!” came Kevin’s voice from the middle of the restaurant. Nancy and George looked up and saw him with the hostess. “Thanks,” he told her, then hurried over to Nancy and George’s booth. “Hi,” he greeted them. “Can I join you?”
“I thought you were busy interviewing skaters,” George said, moving so Kevin could slip in beside her.
“I purposely hurried the last interview so I could catch up with you,” Kevin said, taking George’s hand. “I had a feeling you might be here.”
Nancy watched George’s expression as she met Kevin’s gaze. George definitely seemed thrilled that Kevin had managed to find some time to spend with her.
Kevin scanned the menu and then quickly raised his hand to signal for a waiter. When they’d placed their orders and the waiter had left, Kevin turned to Nancy. “So, Nancy, you’re the detective—who stole the Opto chip?”
“That’s the big question,” Nancy told him, “but it’s not the only one.”
“Right,” George added with a nod. “For instance, who stole Elaine Devery’s skates?”
Nancy pressed her lips together thoughtfully and said, “Tonight I want to chat with any of the women skaters who are at the arena, to find out if any of them have blue sequins on their costumes. Maybe you can help me, George.”
“No problem,” George answered.
“Do you have a camera with you?” Nancy asked. “It would be great to be able to take a picture if we need one.”
“Gosh,” George said, biting her lip and frowning. “I didn’t bring my camera.”
“Kevin Davis to the rescue,” Kevin said, grinning at them both. “I have an instant camera. It’s up in the booth.”
“Something tells me we’re going to miss all the skating tonight,” George said with a sigh.
“Don’t worry, George,” Nancy said, smiling. “Kevin will be able to get you a videotape of the whole thing, won’t you Kevin?”
Kevin’s hazel eyes twinkled playfully. “For George, anything,” he said.
When they’d finished eating, George rode back to the arena with Kevin, and Nancy used the time alone to think through the Opto chip theft. If Mr. O’Connell was right, and customs was on the lookout for corporate spies, then how did the thief plan to get the chip out of the country?
When she arrived at the arena, Nancy hurried up to the press level, where Kevin and George were waiting for her. “Here’s the camera,” said Kevin, handing it to Nancy.
Taking the camera, Nancy stepped over to the Plexiglas windows overlooking the arena. “Wow, it’s getting crowded,” she commented.
“There’ll be at least seven thousand people here tonight,” Kevin said. “Everyone wants to see Boyce Miller.”
“Well, I guess we should get going,” George said wistfully, not wanting to leave Kevin. The couple exchanged a quick kiss, then Nancy and George hurried down to the arena.
“If you see any of the female skaters,” Nancy said, handing George a few of the sequins from her pocket, “try to get the information without giving anything away.”
“Where will you be, Nan?” George asked with a grin. “Watching Boyce Miller?”
“Very funny,” Nancy said. “I’ll be doing the same thing, unless—” She broke off as something caught her eye. It was the reporter with the German accent and the beard! “George,” she said, “I think we just got lucky. Look over there, in the third row behind the judges’ station.”
George followed Nancy’s finger. “It’s him!” she gasped.
“I’m going over there,” Nancy said, stuffing Kevin’s camera into her purse. “Wish me luck.”
Nancy hurried around the crowded arena to a seat near where the bearded reporter was seated.
“Excuse me,” she said, bumping into him as she slid past him. Then she stopped and looked him squarely in the face. “We met before, remember?” she said. “I’m Nancy Drew, of Worldwide Sports.” The man didn’t respond, so Nancy went on. “And you are?”
“I’m with the Berliner Zeitung,” he told her. “Ernst Schmidt.”
“Nice to meet you, Ernst,” Nancy said brightly.
The man nodded, giving her a little smile. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said. Bowing slightly, he stood up and started walking away.
Nancy pulled the instant camera out of her bag and aimed it straight at the back of the man’s head. “Oh, Ernst!” she called loudly.
He turned and she snapped his picture. “Thanks. That’ll be a nice souvenir!”
The man’s face registered shock and fury. “ ’Bye, now!” Nancy called. She scrambled quickly to the other end of the aisle and joined a knot of people coming up a set of steps.
Success! she thought, her heart beating wildly. Weaving through an incoming throng of spectators, she fled out one of the arena exits. The look on Ernst’s face told her one thing for sure—he wasn’t happy about having his picture taken. Why would that bother him—unless he was up to something suspicious?
As Nancy moved rapidly toward the front entrance, she fanned the photo to help it dry. For a split second she stopped to check the image. It was a good, clear shot. Now to get his photo to Mr. O’Connell.
I’m not giving Ernst the chance to get this photo from me, Nancy thought. She headed straight for the parking lot, constantly checking over her shoulder for any sign of the man. She got in her car and drove to the Ridgefield Hotel. She remembered that Trish had told Veronica that was where they’d be staying.
When Nancy arrived, th
e desk clerk informed her that the O’Connells were out. Disappointed, Nancy put the photo in a hotel envelope and left it for Mr. O’Connell. Then she headed back to the complex. Even if Ernst found her now, he wouldn’t get his photo.
Back at the arena, Nancy decided to return the camera to Kevin before going down to the arena. George was sitting in a seat near the skaters’ holding area.
“Did you find him, Nan?” George asked when Nancy joined her.
“I sure did,” Nancy replied. She quickly filled George in. “How did you do?”
George shrugged. “I talked to Veronica, and she doesn’t have any blue sequins—she described her costumes to me in detail. So much detail, in fact, that I’ve only just got through talking with her. I missed half the program and didn’t get to talk to anyone else.”
“Don’t worry, George,” Nancy said. “We’ll talk to the others in the morning. Meanwhile, we’re still in time to see Boyce Miller—here he comes onto the ice now!”
• • •
The next morning Nancy and George showed up at the practice rink just before nine. The place was busy with competitors and their coaches getting ready for the women’s short program.
The night before Boyce Miller had sewed up the men’s singles competition with ease. He had given the most spectacular performance either Nancy or George had ever seen. In fact, he had so electrified the spectators and other skaters that the air seemed to be charged.
“There’s Yoko,” said Nancy, pointing out the skater to George. “She doesn’t seem the least bit nervous.” Against a back wall, Yoko sat on a mat, her eyes closed in what appeared to be deep concentration.
“Well, I know I’d be nervous!” George said.
Elaine Devery was out on the ice, wearing a plain blue leotard and a pair of black bicycle shorts.
“Terrific extension, Elaine,” her coach, Tess, said, encouraging the skater as Elaine swung her leg out at a ninety-degree angle and glided in a perfect circle. “It’s exactly what we’ve been going for.”
Brian Adderly was pacing on the rubber matting near the rink. Every thirty seconds or so he checked his watch. “Time’s up, Tess!” he finally announced. “Yoko is scheduled to work this patch at nine-fifteen.”
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