Illusions of Evil

by Carolyn Keene

  Nancy forced herself to keep a straight face, then said, “Don’t worry, George. I’ll keep you busy.”

  Her friend rolled her eyes.

  “I’m just glad you’re both able to walk out of here. How’s your head, Ned?” Nancy asked.

  “The doctor said I have a very slight concussion, but I feel okay,” Ned replied.

  “Come on. I’ll take you guys home,” Nancy said.

  At that moment the swinging doors opened again, and a young woman in a lab coat emerged. She was holding a clipboard.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” the woman said. “I’m Dr. McGill.” Then she turned to Adriana and gave her a firm handshake. “I heard you were out here and wanted to meet you. I’m a really big fan.”

  Adriana smiled. “Thank you so much for taking care of my friends. I’m sure they were in very good hands.”

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking,” Dr. McGill said, “but I know that the children here at the hospital would love it if you could perform for them sometime.”

  Adriana clapped her hands together. “I’d love to!” she cried. “The sooner, the better.”

  “Why not on Wednesday morning?” Dr. McGill suggested.

  “Perfect,” said Adriana. “I’ll be here at ten.”

  Dr. McGill thanked Adriana, gave a few more words of advice to George and Ned, then went back into the emergency wing. Nancy, Ned, George, and Adriana headed for the exit.

  As they walked through the exit door, a petite woman came rushing up the front path toward them. She was wearing a red sweat suit and had a halo of brown curls that bobbed when she came to a halt in front of them.

  “Not so fast, Adriana Polidori,” the woman said, putting out a hand to stop the magician.

  Adriana’s green eyes widened in surprise.

  “I saw what happened at Riverfront on the news,” the woman began. “But it didn’t surprise me. How could it, after what you did to my son?”

  “For heaven’s sake,” Adriana said, “I did nothing to your son. That was last summer, before I came here. And his injury was ruled an accident. You know that as well as I do.”

  Nancy guessed that the woman must be Freda Clarke. She appeared to be in her thirties, and she had a pretty face, although it was now lined with tension.

  For a second Freda drew back. “As you know, I disagree with the state inspectors’ findings. And beyond that, Riverfront is an old, ill-maintained place—a hazard. Tonight’s accident proves it,” she insisted.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Adriana replied.

  Freda planted her feet in a wide, aggressive stance. “I’m not about to let this go. I want you to know that!”

  Freda turned to George and Ned. “From what I saw on the news, you’re lucky to be alive,” she said. “Just think of what could have happened! I know that when you’ve had time to think things over, you’ll agree to be witnesses.”

  “Witnesses?” Nancy echoed.

  Freda Clarke faced Nancy now. “That’s right,” she replied firmly.

  “What do you mean?” Ned asked.

  “Against Adriana Polidori when I take her to court,” Freda said. “It may be too late for my son, Chris, but it isn’t too late for the rest of the children of Conklin Falls! It’s my duty to protect them.”

  “Ms. Clarke—” Adriana began.

  Freda didn’t let her finish. “I’m putting you on notice, Adriana Polidori. I’m willing to fight you with everything I’ve got. And I’m going to win! I’m going to close Riverfront Park!”

  Chapter

  Four

  HOW DARE YOU bother these people at a time like this,” Adriana said, straightening to her full height.

  Freda moved forward, looking as if she was about to strike Adriana. Nancy stepped between the two women and put a calming hand on Freda’s shoulder. The woman shrugged it off, then pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of her purse. She quickly wrote on it and handed it to Ned. “This is my address and phone number,” Freda told him. “When you realize how close you came to losing your life—and that it was all because of Adriana Polidori—give me a call.”

  With that, Freda shot Adriana one last searing look, turned, and walked back through the parking lot to her car. George let out a low whistle.

  “I can’t believe that woman,” Adriana said, her voice low. “She isn’t being reasonable. She’s trying to run me out of business.”

  “What exactly happened to her son?” Ned asked, fingering the paper with Freda’s address. “It must be something pretty serious.”

  Adriana swallowed several times, obviously distraught. “He was thrown out of the Whirl-o-Looper. He broke his back.”

  “That’s terrible,” said Nancy, genuinely upset. “Was he wearing his safety harness?” she asked.

  Adriana nodded. “Yes, but apparently it came unsnapped. Freda claims it broke loose, but there was no evidence of that. This was all cleared up by the inspectors before I came. There was even a hearing. But Freda wouldn’t accept the ruling. She took on the park as something of a cause, even formed a citizens’ group to pressure the city. The other members eventually lost interest, but Freda has persevered.”

  “How is her son now?” George asked.

  Adriana sighed deeply. “I’m afraid he can’t really walk. He uses braces and a wheelchair.”

  “Poor kid,” Ned commented sympathetically.

  “Uncle Nicos did everything he could to help the boy,” Adriana went on. “But he couldn’t wave a magic wand and make it all right. And it wasn’t his fault,” she insisted. “Now Freda’s taking it out on me. She wants me to pay for what happened to Chris by closing down the park.”

  George reached out and put an arm around Adriana. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Nancy won’t let her.”

  Nancy nodded. “No judge is going to make you shut down your park if the state inspectors decide that tonight’s accident couldn’t have been avoided—or if they find evidence of sabotage.”

  “Given what happened during the show, there is reason to suspect someone has it out for Riverfront,” Ned said.

  They remained silent for a minute as Ned’s words sank in.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Nancy said at last. Privately she didn’t feel so confident, though. Finding a saboteur was like searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack, and for the moment Nancy had only one suspect—Freda Clarke. Somehow she didn’t think the woman was capable of causing the accidents. But she did seem pretty unhinged by the whole Riverfront issue. Could she have hired someone at the park to act as her accomplice?

  The night had turned chilly, and Nancy clutched her leather jacket around her as they walked back to their cars. They said their goodbyes, with Nancy arranging to meet Adriana at the park for the staff meeting. Before that, she planned on examining the roller coaster.

  By the time she dropped George off and took Ned back to his home, in Mapleton, it was almost two in the morning. Nancy slipped into her own house quietly so as not to awaken her father. She climbed the stairs, eager to fall into bed.

  But as her head hit the pillow, Nancy’s thoughts raced. She kept thinking of Freda Clarke and the intense expression on her face as she threatened to close down Adriana’s park. The only question was—how far would she go?

  • • •

  Nancy slept until nine the next morning, and by the time she went downstairs for breakfast, her father had already left for the office. She knew Adriana would tell him what had happened when she called him later that morning.

  Their housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, was visiting her sister’s family in Chicago for the week, so Nancy fixed herself some toast and a bowl of cereal and sat down at the kitchen table. She grabbed the newspaper, which her father had left behind, from the counter and opened it up. She shook her head sadly when she saw the headline. “Disaster at Riverfront Park,” it said. The story was enough to make parents keep their children away from Riverfront for good.

  After reading the article, Nancy
put down the paper and finished eating. In a grim mood she washed her dishes, grabbed her coat and shoulder bag, and left the house.

  Driving through the fog and drizzling rain, Nancy planned her day. First, she wanted to follow up on the Freda Clarke angle. Ned had the woman’s address, so it wouldn’t be too hard to pay her a visit. Second, she intended to ask Adriana for a list of suspects—people inside the park who had access to the flame retardant tank as well as the expertise to sabotage the Typhoon.

  It was almost eleven when she pulled into the parking lot at Riverfront. Through the mist Nancy could just make out the tall rides looming at the edge of the river bluffs. The night before, the park had been alive with lights, people, and activity, but now it resembled a ghost town. A fine frost had formed on the midway and crunched under Nancy’s sneakers as she passed by the shuttered booths. Here and there Nancy spotted workers picking up trash from the night before. Otherwise, the park was quiet and empty.

  When she reached the roller coaster, she noticed the yellow caution tape left behind by the police and guessed that they would be returning soon, along with the inspectors, to begin their investigation.

  She slipped under the tape, passed near the operator’s booth, and looked up. The derailed car was still dangling eerily. Nancy assumed it would have to stay that way until the state inspectors arrived.

  She vaulted back onto the tracks and started the long climb, examining the rails and switching mechanisms as she went. Chances were that something on the track had caused the accident, Nancy guessed, and she intended to find out what it Was.

  When she reached the stalled train of cars at the summit, Nancy made her way to the front of the line. She bent down to scrutinize the spot where George and Ned’s car had gone off the tracks. The rails were wet and slippery but intact, offering no evidence of what had caused the accident.

  “You won’t find what you’re looking for up there,” a voice called out. Nancy glanced behind her to see Rand Hagan making his way around the back cars.

  The ride engineer was wearing gray overalls and the trademark bandanna around his neck again. When he smiled, there were crow’s feet at the corners of his light blue eyes.

  Nancy wiped her hands on her blue jeans. “I’m helping Adriana figure out what’s happening here at the park,” Nancy told him. “My name is Nancy Drew.”

  Hagan reached her side. “I remember from last night,” he said simply.

  “What did you mean when you said that I wouldn’t find what I was looking for here?” Nancy asked him.

  “Follow me,” said Hagan.

  He led the way back along the metal easement toward the second car in line. Nancy kept her hands on the guardrail as she went. When they reached the tail end of the second car, Hagan bent down and beckoned Nancy to do the same.

  “First of all, take a look at the way these wheels grip the track,” he said. “See, it’s not just one wheel. On each axle end there’s a block with three wheels.”

  Nancy saw what he was describing. In each spot where she expected to find a wheel, there was instead a cluster of them. “Pretty impressive,” she said.

  “No matter what angle the cars bank at, these three wheels keep the cars securely in place,” Hagan explained. “Now look here,” he went on, pointing to the car’s wheel block.

  Nancy leaned closer. She saw that the whole wheel block was held to the axle by a massive nut, locked in place with a cotter pin about as thick as a knitting needle.

  “Feel how secure that is,” Hagan said. The apparatus was covered with grease, but when Nancy touched it, everything felt tight.

  “That’s the way it’s supposed to be. I check every one of these blocks every morning. I did it yesterday. None were loose.” Hagan rose, then took a rag from his back pocket and handed it to Nancy.

  “So what you’re saying is that somehow the block on the first car came loose,” Nancy said as she wiped the grease off her fingers.

  Hagan leaned against the car, his face still impassive. Nancy was sure he had more to tell her, but he was taking his time about it.

  He looked toward the front car. “This morning, in the grass down there, I found one of the wheel blocks from the car that derailed,” he finally said, pointing over the guardrail. “But I couldn’t find the nut or the cotter pin. You’d need a metal detector for that.”

  “But if you checked the mechanism yesterday morning,” Nancy replied, “how could the block have come off?”

  Hagan tilted his head. “Only way would have been for someone to loosen the nut or take it off.”

  Nancy frowned.

  “The car went over and over these tracks last night, and every time it went, the nut must have gotten a little bit looser. Eventually it and the cotter pin just flew off—”

  “And the wheel went with them,” Nancy finished for him, “which is why the car derailed and went over the side.”

  “Good thing the braking system worked,” Hagan commented. “It’s got electronic sensors, so if one of the trains doesn’t pass a sensor when it’s supposed to, the whole thing shuts down.”

  Nancy’s mind was spinning. “So you think the ride could have been sabotaged?”

  “Can’t say.” Hagan shrugged. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. The state inspectors will go over this thing with a fine-tooth comb, but they’re not going to find anything more than we did. They’ll be able to say how the accident happened. But unless someone shows up with the nut and pin, there’s no way they can prove it was sabotage.”

  Chapter

  Five

  BUT THAT MEANS everyone will think that the ride isn’t safe,” Nancy gasped. There was a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She could just imagine what Freda Clarke would make of this. The woman had already said that she planned to take Adriana to court over the accident involving her son.

  “Sounds about right,” Hagan agreed. “Adriana could have real trouble on her hands. An accident is much worse than an act of sabotage. Harder to explain.”

  Nancy’s mind was working overtime now. Both Adriana and Hagan were sure that the ride was basically safe; Hagan had checked it himself. Then there was the question of the fire during Adriana’s act. That definitely hadn’t been an accident. There were too many suspicious things going on at Riverfront—too many “accidents.”

  Anyone who knew the park at all could have watched Adriana rehearse her act and figured out how to make it go wrong. It would have been easy enough to sneak into the prop room and fill the tank with kerosene. But what Nancy wanted to know was, who had the expertise to sabotage the Typhoon.

  “Who knew enough about this ride to wreck it?” Nancy asked Hagan.

  The engineer rocked on his heels. Scrutinizing Nancy carefully, he said, “Ride operator, couple of mechanics . . .”

  Nancy saw a strange look suddenly flicker in his eyes. It was gone, though, before she could guess what it meant.

  Hagan started easing around the last two cars of the train. Nancy followed. As she made her way down the tracks several paces behind him, a wind blew up and she shivered. She needed to get something warm inside her, but first she had to get more out of Hagan.

  When they reached the ground, the two of them paused by the operator’s booth.

  “Look, Mr. Hagan,” she said at last, “this is serious. I need the names of the people on your crew who’d be capable of weakening that wheel block,” she insisted.

  He kicked a stone, then looked at Nancy. “I don’t want to turn in anyone on my crew. Besides, I trust them—I hired them myself before the season started. After Nicos Polidori died, Adriana wanted to clear the decks, start all over. She told me to get the best people I could find, and I did.”

  “They may be good at their jobs,” Nancy pressed, “but how do you know you can trust them?”

  “I just do,” he almost growled. Then he slumped a bit, his pale blue eyes wavering. “There is one guy . . . .” he began slowly.

  “Yes,” Nancy urged.

&n
bsp; “I hate to even mention him—Benny Gotnick’s his name. He used to work this ride and the Tunnel of Love, but Adriana fired him when she took over the park.”

  “Why?” Nancy asked. “What did he do?”

  “It’s what he didn’t do,” said Hagan. “Benny didn’t work all that hard. Took long breaks, disappeared to smoke a cigarette, things like that.”

  Nancy frowned.

  “He was a good old guy though—worked for Nicos for years, kind of a fixture around the place,” Hagan went on reluctantly. “Of course, he gambled, ran up debts, goofed up pretty much. But he didn’t have a mean bone in his body.” He shrugged. “I guess he was pretty bitter when Adriana let him go.”

  “Bitter enough to want revenge?” Nancy asked.

  Hagan stared blankly at her. “I don’t know.”

  “Does he still live in Conklin Falls?” Nancy pressed.

  “I’ve seen him around. Adriana should have his address in her files,” Hagan replied.

  It had started to drizzle again by now, so Nancy thanked Hagan for his help and walked back toward the auditorium where the staff meeting was scheduled to take place. When she reached the midway, she checked her watch. She was ten minutes late, so she started jogging, which warmed her up a bit.

  She didn’t look forward to telling Adriana the news about the roller coaster and that there was no way to prove it had been sabotaged from the evidence left behind. Still, she knew she had to. She also wondered what Adriana and her father had decided about keeping the park open until the state inspectors arrived. Given the bad press and Freda Clarke’s threat, things were pretty grim.

  Even so, Nancy had a small glimmer of hope—she now had two suspects, Freda Clarke and Benny Gotnick. For a minute she thought about Rand Hagan. He certainly knew enough about the Typhoon to sabotage it, but Adriana had said he was extremely reliable. What was more, he’d helped save Ned and George’s lives, which struck Nancy as hardly the action of a saboteur.

  When she reached the auditorium, she found one of the front doors unlocked and let herself in. She went through the empty lobby and into the theater, where Adriana was talking to her staff. Most of them were sitting on the stage, while a couple lounged in the front row. As Nancy moved down the aisle, she noticed Mikhail Grigov in a seat at the back.