Deadly Doubles

Chapter Twelve

“Nancy, I can’t help worrying about you. I’m your father,” Carson Drew said with a faint smile. Then his face grew serious.

“I’m proud of you for many things, and one of them is the way you never let personal sacrifice or danger deter you from doing what you believe is right. Or from helping someone who is in need. I admit there are times when I want to jump in and protect you from the consequences. And there would probably be more of them if I always knew what you were up to while you were up to it!

“I guess now I rely on my respect for your good sense and judgment. The trouble is, I also know that all the sense and judgment in the world can’t always save us from the consequences of other people’s actions.”

“I know,” Nancy whispered. “That’s the way I’ve felt over Roberto’s death. So helpless. And so-responsible for not having been able to protect him from it.”

The Drews were alone in Nancy’s hotel bedroom. Senator Kilpatrick, outraged that the news of El Morro’s presence in the country had not reached her sooner, had been driven to her office in search of further information. She had left one of her bodyguards on duty. He was outside the door to the suite now. Bess was fussing over George in the other bedroom.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Carson Drew said sternly. “You’re a human being, Nancy, not a computer or a comic-book heroine! Even computers can only act on the data that they have. Can you think now of anything you’d have done differently with Roberto, given what you knew then?” Nancy shook her head. “Then if you gave it your best shot, that’s all anyone has a right to expect of you, even yourself.”

Carson Drew tilted Nancy’s chin up, making her look at him. “I meant what I said about being proud of you. I do understand why you do what you do. And I approve.”

Nancy hugged him.

Just as her father’s arms tightened around her in response, the telephone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Bess called. And then, “Nan, pick the phone up. Quick!”

The voice that came to Nancy was barely distinguishable as Teresa’s. “I must see you alone. Can I come to your room right away?”

“Of course! I’ll unlock the door between-”

“No. Go to your window. Quickly.” The phone went dead.

“What is it?” Carson Drew asked at once.

“It’s Teresa. She’s in trouble, and if she sees you she won’t talk. Dad, go to your own room-fast.” Nancy fairly pushed him out. Then she ran to her window and threw it open wide.

A moment later a figure scrambled down the fire escape. It was Teresa, unrecognizable in a painter’s cap and a maid’s uniform.

Nancy pulled her in. “Teresa, what-”

“Shh!” Teresa slammed the window shut and pulled the drapes. “I sent Señora Ramirez out for souvenirs and postcards so I could get away. I remembered I saw these clothes in the service room yesterday, and I borrowed them. They are a good disguise, yes? No one will recognize me if I go out? I went up to the next floor and came down the fire escape. We must talk quickly. She may be back already.”

“If she’d come back and found you missing, we’d have heard the shouting,” Nancy said frankly. “Teresa, why do you need to go out?”

“I found a note in my locker when I went to change after practice,” Teresa said.

Nancy’s heart sank. If a note could be smuggled in there, so could a bomb!

“The note is from a-a compadre of Roberto’s in the underground. He must see me. I am marked to die, and so are others.” She lapsed into frightened Spanish. “Many others, not just the six-”

Nancy interrupted. “Teresa, listen to me! This could be a trap!”

Teresa shook her head violently. “No! He mentioned things no one not close to Roberto could know. The poetry book Roberto gave me-the message he wrote inside.” She grabbed Nancy’s arm. “This amigo, he wants to ask me questions. Questions that may give us a clue to some message Roberto could have left me!”

“I’ll go with you,” Nancy said at once.

“No, I must go alone, but that is not the problem.” Teresa drew herself up proudly. “With Roberto dead, I do not care about the risk! I must find that list, or his death will have no meaning.”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Teresa leaned forward. “There is only one time this man can meet me. At six o’clock tonight. But Nancy! At six o’clock I must be at the tennis tournament.”

Nancy frowned. “I thought your match today was earlier.” She looked at her watch. “Right now, in fact.”

Teresa cut her off. “It was postponed until tomorrow. One of my opponents took sick and must be replaced. The stadium will open again at five today, and at six I am to play a doubles match. Not part of the tournament. It is a benefit for the poor people in my country-an American man and I will play against the girl from Canada and her coach. Roberto was supposed to be my partner, but-” Teresa forced tears back sternly. “It has been advertised. How can I not show up there? How can I be in two places at one time? Nancy, help me!”

In two places at one time-Nancy looked at the girl from San Carlos, almost unrecognizable in the baggy uniform and the cap that concealed her hair. Aside from the suntan, she could have been Nancy herself in disguise.

“I know how,” Nancy breathed. “You play the doubles match. I’ll go to your meeting.”

“Nancy, I told you you cannot-”

Now it was Nancy’s turn to interrupt. “Wait a minute! I play tennis-not as well as you, of course, but I’m good. You said yourself it’s a doubles match. I’ll play in it for you-as Teresa Montenegro. And you’ll go to your meeting-as Nancy Drew!”

Nancy tiptoed across the living room to the other bedroom. “Bess!” she hissed, opening the door. “Come to my room. We need you. You, too, George.”

“I don’t understand,” Teresa whispered, bewildered, when the three girls returned.

“You will. Just listen.”

Quickly Nancy outlined her brainstorm. It would require acting skill, but Nancy had that from many previous cases. And she was sure she could persuade Teresa to play her part. It also required alterations, not just of appearance but of mannerisms and of Nancy’s tennis game.

George grasped the possibilities first. “I can coach you, Nancy. I’ve learned lots of Teresa’s techniques, thanks to this morning’s workout. I’ll try to make your tennis look as much like Teresa’s as I can.”

“But what about little things like skin and hair color?” Bess objected.

“That’s where you come in,” Nancy said promptly. “You’re the fashion and beauty expert. Run out and buy whatever’s needed at a drugstore. Be prepared to give me a cut and blow-dry. Teresa, go back to your room before your chaperon pushes the panic button. I’ll arrange to have her receive a diplomatic invitation she won’t dare turn down. George, get on the phone to the senator. Tell her we”-she emphasized the word-“need the use of a tennis court that can provide absolute privacy. Tell her I’m testing out a theory, but don’t tell her anything else.”

As the other three sprang into action, Nancy sat down quietly. She felt as if the room were whirling.

Teresa’s meet was vitally important-and this was the only way it could take place without alerting the terrorists. Of that Nancy was absolutely sure.

She was absolutely sure of something else as well. She had only a few short hours to complete the transformation-not just of her appearance but of her tennis game.

She, Nancy Drew, expert detective but amateur athlete, was about to play before a thousand or more people. Play against people good enough to be professional. Play well enough to carry through a triple deception-of the United States government, of the public, and of the San Carlos agents assigned to keep Teresa Montenegro in line.

Could she do it?