High Risk (12 page)

When they got there, Ned answered the door. His parents were out, and he was alone in the house. He seemed overjoyed to see them. Poor Ned, Nancy thought, he really hasn't been able to leave the house for the past three days!

After they'd settled in the living room, Nancy told him about the new angle she was investigating, and about her adventure at Dr. Meyers's office.

“So this case really
does
have something to do with the insurance scam after all,” Ned said excitedly. “That makes me feel like less of an idiot.”

“It
might
, Ned,” Nancy said cautiously. “We still don't have any proof, and I don't want to jump to conclusions again.”

Bess was sitting on the carpet. “Hey, do you think Meyers and Foyle planned the scam
before
Foyle's accident?” she asked. “What if it turned out they rigged the whole thing, including the accident?”

“That could be,” Nancy responded. “Or he
might have had a real accident and then decided to take advantage of the situation to get the insurance money. But I
am
beginning to think Foyle wasn't the main brain behind this fraud. He kept only a quarter of the money, don't forget. Maybe he was just a pawn.” She sighed. “But before I start jumping the gun again, let's see what my dad can find out for us.”

Going to the Nickersons' kitchen, she picked up the phone and dialed Carson Drew's office number. “Dad,” she began after they said hello, “your friend Bill Graham is a bigwig with”—she consulted the name she had written down—“Second National Bank of Illinois, isn't he?”

“Yes, why?” Carson Drew wanted to know. “Do I sense that you're about to ask me to do something that's not quite kosher?”

Nancy laughed. “You know me too well,” she confessed. “Listen, can you get some information about an account for me? All I need to know is if the person who has the account recently made any large deposits. To the tune of seventy-five thousand dollars or so.”

Carson whistled. “Sounds like you're onto something,” he said. “I'll see what I can do, and I'll call you as soon as I know anything.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Nancy gave him the account number. “I'll be waiting to hear from you.”

Next Nancy called the woman who had the eight-thirty appointment with Dr. Meyers on the day Foyle was killed. From her voice, Nancy guessed the woman was elderly. She pondered for a while, then said she wasn't sure when she had
left Dr. Meyers's office, but she didn't think she could have been there more than half an hour.

Nancy thanked her and hung up. Then she tried calling the woman who had the nine-thirty appointment, but there was no answer.

So, Nancy thought, hanging up again, Dr. Meyers was alone for at least some time between nine and nine-thirty that morning. During that time he could have raced over to the warehouse, met Foyle, and killed him.

A little later Nancy's father called to report that his friend at the bank was in a meeting until later that afternoon. Nancy swallowed her impatience and settled in to wait. Bess and George went out to buy sandwiches and sodas, and the three girls ate with Ned and talked about the case.

At three-thirty the Nickersons' phone rang again. Ned answered and passed the receiver to Nancy. “It's your dad,” he said excitedly.

“Dad,” Nancy said into the phone. “Any news?”

“I'm not sure.” Carson Drew's voice sounded puzzled. “Bill Graham tells me Meyers made several cash deposits to his account in the last two weeks. The total amount of the deposits is a little under twenty-five thousand dollars.”

Nancy saw why her father was confused. “So where's the other fifty thousand?” she asked. “The settlement Foyle got was for a hundred thousand dollars, but he kept only a quarter of it. Did Meyers put the rest in another account?”

“Not in Second National Bank,” Carson told
her. “Bill said Meyers has no other accounts there.”

Nancy thought for a moment. “Well, maybe he put it in another bank. It would be foolish of him to keep it all in one place,” she said. “But we've finally got a real link between Meyers, Foyle, and the insurance scam! Dad, this is great! Thanks a million.”

Nancy hung up and told her friends the news. Ned's face lit up. “We're getting close, Nancy,” he said. “I can feel it.”

Suddenly George spoke up. “I don't mean to rain on anyone's parade,” she said hesitantly, looking across the kitchen table at Nancy, “but there is one thing about the case that's bothering me.”

“What's that?” Nancy asked.

“It seems so small-scale,” George began.

Bess cut in with a little shriek. “You call a hundred thousand dollars ‘small scale'?” she demanded.

“No, wait a second.” Nancy was struck by George's point. “I see what you mean, George. Insurance claims can be much higher—in the millions sometimes. A hundred thousand is
not
that much money, especially when you're splitting it.”

“Right,” George said, nodding. “I mean, it doesn't seem like enough to plan a major fraud over. They were risking a lot, and you'd think the reward would be bigger, since the stakes were so high.”

A frown creased Nancy's forehead. “Toby
Foyle found out just how high they were,” she said, speaking half to herself.

Ned had been looking back and forth at the two girls as they spoke. “What are you getting at?” he wanted to know.

“I'm not sure,” Nancy answered slowly. “But I think George may have an important point. One that could help us crack this case.” She snapped her fingers as she remembered something. “I should have thought of this earlier. Libby Cartwright told me that Foyle's was the third settlement Mutual Life had paid out in the last six months. She mentioned how unusual that was.”

“So?” Ned prompted.

“So maybe this scam is bigger than we've been thinking,” Nancy said. “Maybe Meyers filed a few of these hard-to-verify false claims, with the cooperation of ‘victims' who wanted some easy money. It would make sense.” She looked at Ned. “Also, it would help explain why Meyers had to kill Foyle. Foyle got scared when you started looking into his claim. Maybe he even told Meyers he wouldn't take the fall alone—and that made Foyle too big a risk. If he spilled the beans, then Meyers would lose a lot more than just a few thousand dollars. He's in deep.”

Ned tapped his fingers on the kitchen table. “How can we find out for sure?”

“Call Mr. Packard,” Nancy said. “Ask him to check out any claims signed by Meyers in the past six or seven months. If he finds any that were settled for moderate amounts of money—amounts that the company might be willing to
settle—get the names of the claimants, and I'll see what I can find out from them.”

“Okay,” Ned agreed. He picked up the phone and dialed his work number. After a brief conversation with the receptionist, he put his hand over the mouthpiece.

“Packard is at the Chicago office today,” he whispered. “What should I do?”

“Ask for Andy Feinberg,” Nancy whispered back. “He's your friend—he'll help you out.”

Bess gave Nancy a worried glance. Nancy knew what she was thinking. What if Andy had the same reaction as some of Ned's other “friends,” like that guy in the restaurant or Wally Biggs?

He won't, Nancy told herself. He was nice to me yesterday in the office. He'll help—won't he?

“Hi, Andy,” Ned said after a minute, and Nancy could hear the nervousness in his voice. “It's Ned Nickerson. . . . What's that? . . . No, I'm all right.” As he listened, a smile spread across his face. “Hey, thanks for saying that, Andy. I appreciate it.

“Listen, could I ask a favor?” Ned asked at last. “I need you to look up some old claims for me. . . .”

Fifteen minutes later Ned hung up. He was grinning broadly. “Andy's on my side,” he said.

Nancy hugged him. “Oh, Ned, that's just great!” she said sincerely.

“Did you get anything from him?” George asked.

“Sure did.” Ned held up a piece of paper he'd used to take notes on. “Here are names and
phone numbers from two more of Meyers's claims. Both were settled—one for eighty thousand dollars and one for ninety-two thousand. Andy investigated one of them, and Wally Biggs did the other.”

Nancy had already picked up the phone and was dialing the first number.

When a woman's voice answered, Nancy asked, “May I speak to”—she checked Ned's paper—“Marian Davis?”

“This is Marian Davis,” the woman replied. “Who's calling?”

Nancy looked at Ned and made a thumbs-up sign. “Ms. Davis, my name is Nancy Drew,” she said. “I'm a private investigator, and I'm looking into an insurance claim you filed on February fourth with Mutual Life.”

There was a gasp on the other end of the line and then a click. The woman had hung up.

Nancy put the phone down and turned to her friends. “Guys,” she said, “I think we just hit the jackpot!”

H
OORAY!
” B
ESS CRIED
. “That was the quickest confession I ever heard of. What did she say?”

“Well, she didn't actually confess,” Nancy had to admit. “But she did gasp and hang up on me the minute I mentioned Mutual Life. I'm sure she's part of the fraud. And if we take this evidence to Detective Matsuo, he'll
have
to listen to us. He can't ignore a suspect with as strong a motive as Dr. Meyers.”

Ned's face lit up. “Nancy, you're brilliant!” He grabbed her and twirled her around the kitchen. When she finally collapsed, laughing, into a chair, he grabbed George and twirled
her
around. “You're brilliant, too!” he cried.

“Hey, I feel left out,” Bess joked.

“Well, you shouldn't,” Nancy told her. “If it
wasn't for your terrific acting ability, we'd never have gotten this far.”

Grinning, Bess tossed her long blond hair and said, “You'll have to speak to my agent about my fees.”

“Now I
really
feel like celebrating,” Ned said. Then his face fell. “But after what happened at Mama's the other day, I don't feel like going out in public just yet.”

“I have an idea,” said Nancy. “Why don't you all come to my house? We could make a big dinner, and it would give Ned a chance to get out of the house. Let me call Hannah and see if it's all right with her.”

The Drews' housekeeper was pleased with the idea. “Especially if
you're
cooking, Nancy,” she teased. “Yes, I think a party would be grand. I'll bake a cake.”

“Thanks! See you soon,” Nancy said, and hung up. “Let's hit the road,” she called to her friends. “We've got some serious cooking to do!”

• • •

“Mmm. Mexican, French, and Chinese food,” Carson Drew said thoughtfully. “And a German chocolate cake for dessert.” His eyes twinkled. “A strange combination, but I must say it was delicious. My compliments to the chefs!”

It was later that evening, and Nancy, Ned, Bess, and George were sitting around the Drews' dining room table with Nancy's father and Hannah. They had just finished a monster meal—Nancy and Ned had made tacos, Bess had supplied an enormous salade niçoise, and George
had put together her specialty, cold Chinese noodles with sesame sauce. As promised, Hannah had baked a rich chocolate cake to finish off the meal.

Bess pushed her chair back from the table and groaned. “I know I just gained back those five pounds it took me so long to lose,” she said ruefully. “But it was worth it.”

“Work it off. Why don't you play tennis with me?” George suggested.

A look of shock crossed Bess's face. “Tennis? Ugh—too strenuous!”

George grinned at Nancy. “I need a partner. Every time Nancy and I have a tennis date, she calls me at the last minute and says she's got a new case and can't make it.”

Nancy returned the smile absently. During dinner, her thoughts had strayed back to the case. Though she didn't want to say anything to spoil the festive mood, she was worried.

Just before sitting down to eat, her father had taken her aside. “You've done a terrific job,” he'd told her. “You've found a suspect with a motive and, possibly, an opportunity to kill Toby Foyle. But I should tell you that we still have a lot of hard work to do. Don't forget that Ned was found at the scene, with the murder weapon in his hand. Against that, even a strong motive like the one Dr. Meyers has may not get Ned off. I think the best we can hope for at this point is reasonable doubt.”

Now, thinking about what her father had said, Nancy frowned.

“Hey, what's on your mind?” Ned asked her softly.

“Huh? Oh—nothing,” Nancy began. Just then the phone rang, and she got up to answer it. Her heart sank when she heard Brenda Carlton's voice on the other end of the line.