The Crook Who Took the Book (2 page)

“Dead end!” she exclaimed.

“Where did George go?” Bess asked.

“George?” said a voice behind them.

Nancy and Bess spun around to see a young man in a brown T-shirt and worn corduroy pants. He had spiky black hair, and the nametag on his T-shirt said Anderson Quilling.

“Hi, Anderson,” Nancy said.

Anderson Quilling worked at the Book Nook. He knew where to find any book in the cluttered store, and he seemed to know the name of every child who shopped there.

“I just saw George sneaking into the science room,” Anderson said.

“Hey,” George called from far away. Nancy peered across the hall. George was crawling out from behind a big chair. She came over to the history room doorway. “No fair, Anderson. You just gave me away.”

Bess ran up to George and tagged her
shoulder. “You're it!” she announced.

“Oops,” Anderson said with a guilty grin. “Hide-and-seek, huh? Sorry, I didn't know.”

Bess pointed to a box tucked under Anderson's arm. “What's that?” she asked.

The box was rectangular and made of beautiful polished wood. It was exactly the color of caramel. Nancy saw a little silver lock on the lid.

“I can't tell you,” Anderson said. “It's a surprise.”

“Does it have to do with the rare book that Julia is giving to Mr. Sandback?” George asked excitedly.

Anderson's face fell. “Oh,” he said. “I guess you already know.”

“It's okay, Anderson,” Nancy said. “Even though we know about the surprise, it's still exciting.”

“Yes!” Anderson agreed. “A first edition of
Foul-up at the Floss Factory.
That's a big deal. You know, I'm trying to be a writer myself,” he told the girls. “Maybe someday I'll have a book published, too.”

Anderson heaved a big, sad sigh. Then he shook his head and tried to smile cheerily.
“Anyway,” he said, “a book like
Foul-up
can't be presented in a plain cardboard box. So, Julia asked me to find a beautiful gift box.”

“It
is
beautiful,” Nancy said. She reached out to touch the smooth wood, but Anderson pulled the box away.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he said. “Nobody gets to see this book until Mr. Sandback opens the box himself.”

Nancy checked the clock on the history room wall. “Well, if we don't get downstairs,” Nancy said, “the big surprise is going to be no seats.”

• • • 

A few minutes later Nancy and her friends were fidgeting in their chairs.

“I wish Mr. Sandback would get here already,” Katie Zaleski said. She was sitting in front of Nancy. “I have so many questions to ask him.”

Finally Julia Sandback stood up behind the wooden table. All the chattering kids and grown-ups fell silent.

“If you think it's fun to read a Morton Sandback mystery,” Julia said to the group, “imagine what it was like growing up with Morton Sandback as your father. My dad used to send my brothers and me on treasure hunts after dinner. The winner would get extra dessert.”

“Ooh, good idea, Mom,” Bess said. She prodded her mother with her elbow.

“My point is,” Julia continued, “that my father believes that adventures aren't just for books. But see for yourself. Here he is—Morton Sandback!”

With that, Mr. Sandback walked into the room. He was as tall and skinny and redheaded as Julia. He was dressed in plaid trousers and a black vest covered with felt patches. Some of the patches looked like books. Others looked like pens and pencils. Some looked like typewriters.

The famous author peered at the audience over half-moon glasses. Then he broke into a big, friendly grin.

“Thank you, Julia,” he said. “And hello there, kids. Let's jump right in. Who has a good, juicy question for me?”

“I do, I do,” shouted a dozen kids, waving their hands. One of them was Nancy. But
Mr. Sandback pointed to someone sitting behind her.

“Mr. Sandback,” said a squeaky voice.

Nancy twisted around in surprise. Andy Nixon was sitting right behind her, next to his dad. What was he doing here? He hated books!

“Which do you think is better?” Andy asked. “Comic books or book-books?”

Mr. Sandback laughed. “I guess most writers would say, ‘book-books,'” he said. “But I grew up reading comic books. I think they're great. I even tried to make some of my early books seem like comic books.”

“You mean graphic novels?” Andy asked.

“Exactly,” Mr. Sandback said. “I'm impressed that you know that.”

“Only because Mrs. Goldstein told us,” George whispered to Nancy and Bess. “Remember, she said
Foul-up at the Floss Factory
was a graphic novel.”

“Shh,” Andy whispered. “I can't hear Mr. Sandback!”

“And guess what?” Mr. Sandback said. “I think that if I hadn't read comics as a kid,
perhaps I wouldn't be an author today.”

Next Mr. Sandback called on Katie Zaleski.

“How do I become a famous writer like you?” she asked.

“I don't know about the famous part,” Mr. Sandback replied, “but I can tell you what to do if you want to be a writer. Just read as many books as you can. That's the best way to learn how to write.”

The next question came from George. “Do you write on a computer?” she asked.

“Oh, I'm old-fashioned,” Mr. Sandback replied with a smile. “I use good old number-two pencils to write my books.”

Nancy thrust her hand in the air once more. This time Mr. Sandback pointed at her.

“Mr. Sandback,” Nancy said, “how do you come up with all your mysteries?”

“Why, look around you, young lady,” he said. “Life is filled with wonderful mysteries. They're everywhere. I just take the time to write them down.”

“Cool!” Nancy whispered.

Many questions later Julia stepped to her father's side. “In a few minutes, Mr. Sandback
will autograph books for you. But first I have a special gift for my dad.”

From behind her back Julia brought out the beautiful wooden box.

“That's the box Anderson had in the history room,” Nancy whispered to Bess and George. “But where's Anderson?” Nancy looked around the crowded store. “I wonder why he didn't stay to see Mr. Sandback.”

Julia held up the box. “Dad, I bet you thought you'd never see this book again,” she said. “But when I came across this first edition of
Foul-up at the Floss Factory
, I knew you should have it.” Then she handed the box to Mr. Sandback.

“What!” he sputtered, staring at the box. Then he grinned from ear to ear. “What a wonderful gift!”

He flung the box open. Eagerly, he peered inside. Then his face wrinkled into a puzzled frown.

Julia peeked into the box, too. Then she gasped.

“The book!” she cried. “It's gone!”

T
he book has disappeared?” Nancy cried, turning to her father. “But what could have happened to it?”

“I don't know,” Mr. Drew said. He looked concerned.

Julia was more than concerned. She was near tears. Nancy saw Mrs. Goldstein jump to her feet. She walked to the front of the room and put her hand on Julia's shoulder. She whispered something into Julia's ear.

Julia turned to the audience.

“Well, it appears we have a real-life mystery on our hands,” she said. “While I get on the
case, why don't you line up for Mr. Sandback's autograph.”

Then she dashed into the back office with Mrs. Goldstein at her side.

Nancy and the other children lined up in front of the big table. Looking sad, Mr. Sandback uncapped a pen and took a book from the first child in line. As he was about to sign it, he paused. Then he looked up, and he spoke.

“I didn't realize how right I was when I said mysteries are all around us, children,” he said. “But what I want to know is—are detectives all around us, too? Can any of you help me solve the mystery of the crook who took the book?”

Bess gasped and looked at Nancy. “You're a detective, Nancy,” she said. “You have to help Mr. Sandback.”

“Totally,” Nancy said. “I'll talk to him when I get to the front of the line. I feel so bad for Mr. Sandback. Why would someone take his first edition?”

“And he's so nice, too,” Bess said sadly. “He's just how you'd imagine Morton
Sandback should be. Right down to that funny vest with all the patches.”

Nancy bit her lip and nodded in agreement.

It wasn't long before she herself was standing in front of Mr. Sandback. She handed him the copy of
Frogs, Dogs, and Mysterious Logs
that her father had bought for her.

“Ah,” Mr. Sandback said, giving her a kind smile. “You're the young lady who was so interested in my mystery ideas.”

“Yes,” Nancy said. “I'm Nancy Drew. I'm a detective.”

“Get out of here,” Mr. Sandback said playfully.

“Uh-huh,” Nancy said. “I have a clue book and everything. But I don't have it with me. I didn't expect to run into a mystery today.”

“See, the missing book proved me right, Nancy,” Mr. Sandback said. “We must always be ready for a mystery.”

“Oh, I am,” Nancy replied, sticking her chin in the air. “In fact, I'm going to do everything I can to help you find that book, Mr. Sandback.”

“Why, thank you,” Mr. Sandback said. “Lots of other kids want to help out, too. The more sleuths, the better! If you or any of your friends find any clues, you can reach me here at the bookstore. I'll be in town visiting with Julia for the rest of the week.”

With that, Mr. Sandback opened Nancy's copy of
Frogs, Dogs, and Mysterious Logs.
He scribbled a message on the title page. Then he signed his name with big, loopy letters. He handed the book back to her and said, “Good luck, Nancy.” Then he winked.

Nancy grinned back and walked to the front of the bookstore. Mr. Drew and Mrs. Marvin were waiting there.

“Let's see what Mr. Sandback wrote in your book,” Mr. Drew said.

Nancy flipped open her book and read Mr. Sandback's message out loud: “‘For Nancy Drew, a clever girl who, with a clue, just may unravel this mystery new. Best of luck, Morton Sandback.'”

“Cool,” George said. She had just finished having her own book signed. “He wrote you a poem.”

Nancy was inspired. “I say we get to work solving this mystery right now,” she announced. “After all, we
are
at the scene of the crime.”

“I'm sorry, Nancy,” Mrs. Marvin said. “But Bess and George and I have to leave. We're having Sunday dinner with the girls' grandmother.”

“Time to leave already?” George said. “But this is a big, important mystery. I want to help. I mean, the thief could be making a getaway right now!”

“Well, I'm sure Julia is doing everything she can,” Mrs. Marvin said. “Why don't you girls and Nancy come here after school tomorrow. You can get started then.”

“All right,” George and Bess said together.

“Is that okay, Daddy?” Nancy asked her father as her friends waved goodbye.

“Sure, Pumpkin,” Mr. Drew said. “Don't worry. I'm sure the mystery will keep until tomorrow. Now, let's head home ourselves. I've got to do some work. But then we'll have macaroni and cheese for dinner.”

“With Hannah's apple pie for dessert?”
Nancy asked. Hannah Gruen was the Drews' housekeeper.

“You got it!” Mr. Drew answered with a laugh.

“Yum!” Nancy said. They headed for the door. Suddenly, something white and fluffy ran across Nancy's feet, almost tripping her.

“Whoa!” Nancy cried. “Hey, that's Charlie!” She watched in surprise as the grouchy cat darted across the bookstore.

“That's funny,” Nancy said. “I thought Charlie
never
got off his bed.” She glanced behind the front desk. Charlie's cat bed looked lumpy and messy.