Deadly Doubles

Chapter Five

Teresa froze, paralyzed in the blinding light. Suddenly a figure leaped into the air.

George’s strong arms caught at the tournament banner. It broke away, coming down with her, and was flung onto the front windshield of the sedan.

The car swerved crazily to the left. It bounced off the front fender of a sports car and tore erratically toward the exit.

The banner slid off in a little heap as the sedan, burning rubber, roared up the ramp and then vanished.

Suddenly the garage seemed very silent. The only sound was the gasping sobs coming from Teresa, lying crumpled on the floor. Nancy and George ran to her, but she shrank away from them like a wounded bird.

“It’s all right. I’m Nancy… Nancy Drew,” Nancy murmured reassuringly, stroking the hair back from Teresa’s frightened eyes. Teresa nodded, recognizing Nancy’s voice. There was a large bruise like a rope burn on her cheek. She must have skinned it on the concrete when she fell.

George, an expert first-aider, checked Teresa for other injuries. “No damage except bruises,” she reported.

“No thanks to whoever was driving that car,” Nancy said grimly. “Teresa, somebody tried to kidnap me this afternoon. Yes, probably mistaking me for you,” she said as Teresa’s blue eyes widened. “Why is somebody trying to kill you?”

Teresa jerked her head away, pressing her lips together. George’s eyes met Nancy’s. “The same guy who shot at your boyfriend? They got him, you know,” George said brutally. “That’s what the racket was in the hallway, Nancy told me. If you won’t talk to save yourself, how about him? We’re on your side,” she went on more gently as Teresa cried out. “Nancy can help you if you’ll let her.”

Nancy put her arms around Teresa as she struggled to sit up. “Find Señora Ramirez and tell her Teresa’s safe,” Nancy told George in a low voice. “And brief the house detective. His name’s Dixon.”

George nodded and left. For a few minutes there was no sound except Teresa’s ragged breathing.

“Don’t you think you owe me at least some explanation?” Nancy asked presently. “After all, I almost got killed twice today because of you.” As she hoped, that approach brought a response.

“I am so sorry. I do not know, really.” Teresa swallowed hard. “It is-how do you say? A night scare?”

“Nightmare,” Nancy supplied. “Teresa, you must think. There has to be a reason.” No answer. “Why were you running away? From the police? From your chaperon?” She repeated the words in Spanish because Teresa seemed too distraught to understand.

“Not running away… Roberto? You said Roberto is dead? He can’t be!”

“George didn’t say that. He was kidnapped-probably by the same men who grabbed me. There was a witness. And there were shots fired. Roberto may have been killed, but we don’t know yet. Teresa, don’t you think you’d better-”

Teresa was shaking her head violently. “No! There was a phone call-” She stopped abruptly.

“Teresa, tell me!” Nancy needed the facts before the police showed up and chased her away.

Teresa looked at her for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Someone called,” she whispered. “Not Roberto-it was a message from Roberto.”

“In English or Spanish?”

“Spanish. It said Roberto was hurt and needed me. He wanted me to come to get him.”

“Where?”

Teresa gave an address in Alexandria. “I knew Señora Ramirez wouldn’t let me go. She was hired especially to watch out for me on this trip, and she is very strict. She thinks I should have my mind only on my tennis game. So I… I tricked her.”

“Didn’t you realize how dangerous it could be?”

Teresa just looked at Nancy. “In my country, there is always danger. We have a dictatorship, very harsh-and often there are troublemakers from outside.” She shrugged. “Roberto needs me. I must go.”

“Not now, you can’t,” Nancy said firmly. “I’ll go.”

As she said it she remembered with a start that she also had to meet Senator Kilpatrick’s mysterious courier soon. Nancy knew she needed to make sure Teresa was safe, then go after Roberto before it was too late. With relief, she saw Dixon and one of the policemen coming toward them.

“We’ll take over now,” the policeman said. He and the house detective led Teresa away.

Nancy returned to her suite, where George and Bess were anxiously waiting. “We’re going with you,” Bess said promptly when Nancy described her evening plans.

“Somebody has to be here in case the senator calls.”

“I’ll stay this time,” George said.

“What you’d better do is order in some pizza for around ten o’clock,” Nancy suggested, changing rapidly into the requested T-shirt, skirt, and red belt. “Looks as if none of us is going to get any real dinner. Come on, Bess.”

With Bess holding a map and acting as navigator, Nancy cruised through the factory area on the outskirts of Alexandria, looking for the address Teresa had given.

“Either you heard her wrong or Teresa was supposed to meet her boyfriend in the Potomac River,” Bess said at last.

“Maybe that’s exactly what somebody had in mind,” Nancy answered. “We’d better head for the tournament. Bess, go to your seat and stay there. Something dangerous is going on. If I don’t show up by nine-thirty, send help!”

An amber moon was shining as they drove into the Loudon College parking lots. Nancy was fortunate to find a space close to the gym. She went with Bess to the box and leaned well forward in it, directly into the stream of light coming from nearby floodlights. It seemed a good way to advertise her arrival to whoever was watching for a girl in a denim miniskirt and a red belt.

At ten minutes to nine Nancy made her way to Hollins Gymnasium and used her pass to get in. Fluorescent lights glowed in the corridors, but the place seemed deserted. Nancy’s running shoes squeaked spookily on the stone floors.

Cautiously Nancy entered the locker room. She was glad she’d been there earlier for that stolen shower. She knew her way around, knew the hiding places to watch out for-or to take refuge in.

The locker room was like all locker rooms-dim, full of discarded clothing, the smell of disinfectant and athletic equipment, the sound of water dripping from a faucet somewhere.

Nancy sat down on a gray wooden bench that gave a good view of all the doors and waited.

The overhead clock, obeying some class-session programming, rang noisily at 9:10 and again at 9:15.

No one came.

At twenty-five after nine, a door squeaked distantly. Nancy stiffened. Then she relaxed. It was no courier-apparently a match was over, and players and their chaperons were returning. They went directly to the shower room, ignoring Nancy.

Casually Nancy left the locker room and hung around for a few more minutes in the light directly outside the entrance of the gym.

I’d better get back to the box before Bess sends out the Marines, she decided.

Clearly something had interfered with the scheduled meet. And Senator Kilpatrick would have found a way to notify me here if she’d known, Nancy thought. She found Bess, and they headed for the parking lot.

It was a good half-hour before they were able to get out of a traffic jam.

“If we don’t get there soon, that pizza’s going to be stone cold,” Bess grumbled as they barreled toward Alexandria.

“That will ruin your appetite?” Nancy asked absently. Instead of rising to the bait, Bess looked at Nancy’s anxious face and remained silent.

When they entered the suite, George made the same comment. “It’s ten-forty-five. The pizza’s going to taste like wallpaper paste by now. And I ordered all the good stuff-turns out there’s a Neapolitan pizza place nearby.” She stopped abruptly. “Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it?”

“I hope not,” Nancy said soberly. “Whoever was supposed to meet me didn’t. I don’t know what scared him off. Any word from the senator or Teresa?”

“Nope,” George responded. She went to the phone and ordered another pizza.

They were still eating, sitting cross-legged on Nancy’s king-size bed, when midnight came.

“The senator won’t call now.” Nancy’s shoulders sagged.

“Be glad. Under these circumstances no news is good news,” George pointed out. She sank her teeth into onions and pepperoni. “What I’d like to know,” she went on around a mouthful of cheese, “is why somebody snatched Teresa’s guy. Just to have a reason to lure her to the garage? Or did they really want to get her to the river?”

“It could have been a fail-safe setup,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “If the first guy didn’t run her down in the garage, he or a buddy would have a second chance over there. Believe me, nobody’d have known till morning. That neighborhood was dead.” Nancy shuddered at her own choice of words. “What I’d like to know is why the police aren’t doing anything.”

The others stared at her.

“Think about it,” Nancy insisted. “They don’t know that I got snatched. But they do know Roberto got snatched. With bullets bouncing around! And that somebody tried to run Teresa down in the garage.”

George whistled. “I see your point. Have we ever known a situation like that when the place wasn’t immediately crawling with cops? Especially considering the protests, the bomb threat, and the fact that a foreign sports figure’s involved.”

Especially considering there are top-secret talks involving the San Carlos dictatorship going on, Nancy added silently to herself. She had a lot of questions to ask Senator Marilyn Kilpatrick!

At last Nancy and her friends fell asleep. Before Nancy knew it, she was awakened by a brisk knocking at the main entrance to the suite. Nancy propped herself up on one elbow, noting that the hands of her clock stood at ten minutes to six.

Nancy jumped out of bed and ran to the door in her blue nightshirt. “Who’s there?” she called softly.

“Marilyn Kilpatrick,” a distinctive, familiar voice replied.

Quickly Nancy manipulated the chain and dead-bolt lock, and Senator Kilpatrick slipped inside. Nancy beckoned her into her bedroom.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I also didn’t want to be seen coming here.” Senator Kilpatrick’s auburn hair was as smartly styled as always, but there were circles under her dark eyes. For once she looked every bit of her forty-eight years. “What happened last night? Why didn’t you get the packet for me? Tell me quickly.”

“A lot happened. And no, the courier didn’t meet me.” Nancy pulled on a robe as the senator sank down in a chair. In a few accurate sentences Nancy briefed the politician on the events that had occurred. Then she looked squarely into the dark eyes.

“You brought me into this. I think I’ve earned the right to be told more. Otherwise I could make a wrong move.”

“You’re right.” The senator walked to the window and stood looking between the cracks of the blinds that Nancy had lowered. Then she turned.

“There ought not to have been any danger-to you or anyone else. But the-information exchange-is far more important than I’ve been free to tell you. What I’m going to tell you now I should not be saying to anyone who doesn’t have top security clearance. I’m trusting you because I trust your father.”

“It has to do with a possible revolution in San Carlos, doesn’t it?” Nancy guessed.

Senator Kilpatrick nodded. “My committee is mediating between representatives of all the different political groups in San Carlos. We’re hoping to avert a bloodbath. Someone-we’re not sure whether from San Carlos or an outsider-does want one. I’ve been able to arrange for some very dangerous information to be smuggled to me. That’s why I needed you.”

“Not just because I’m Carson Drew’s daughter. Because I look like Teresa Montenegro,” Nancy said.

“Yes. Truly, I didn’t think either of you would be in danger. I thought that the fact that you resemble Teresa would give you easy access to the gym, and if anyone saw you and the courier together no one would think anything of it.”

The pieces started to fall together. “Roberto was the courier, wasn’t he?” she said.

The senator nodded again. “And now we don’t know where either he or his smuggled information is. If it falls into the wrong hands-” She didn’t finish.

“Who is Roberto, really?”

“He’s Teresa Montenegro’s tennis coach. Also her boyfriend-or at least he has been for the past three months. He was the one who persuaded her to sign up for this tournament. He’s also a leader in the underground freedom movement in San Carlos. I don’t know whether she’s aware of that. He may have felt she’d be safer if she wasn’t.”

Senator Kilpatrick paused. “I’m sure you know about the bomb threat and the protests. What you don’t know is that the San Carlos dictatorship has drawn up a hit list. On it are the names of six people now in the United States who are actively working to overthrow the current government. Unless I get that list, and get it to the FBI within the next few days, those people will start to die!”