“Sure they will,” Bess said.

The interview with Ann Granger was breaking up. Waving further questions aside, Ms. Granger threaded her way toward the now-vacant desk.

“Ms. Drew?” The sergeant, peering through the double doors, beckoned to Nancy. “In here.”

Nancy grabbed Ned and Bess’s hands and hurried toward the waiting policeman.

“Excuse me, are you Carson’s daughter?”

Nancy glanced back over her shoulder. Her father’s client was walking toward them. A worried frown was creasing her smooth oval face.

“I’m Ann Granger. I’m so sorry about all this. The charge against your father is ridiculous! If you see him, will you tell him I said so? I feel as if it’s all my fault.”

The TV cameras had swiveled around to capture their exchange. Reporters were heading toward them.

“Ms. Drew, what’s your reaction to the charge against your father?” someone called.

“It’s not true, and that’s all I have to say.” Nancy turned back to Ann Granger.

Looking up into wide, dark eyes, Nancy liked what she saw. The reporter was clearly upset, and her defense of Carson Drew seemed to have come from the heart.

“Come with us,” Nancy said firmly. Turning, she marched toward the double doors as if she had every right to bring the others with her.

Carson Drew was cleaning fingerprinting ink from his fingers when he glanced up and saw the four bearing down on him. In his perfectly tailored suit and dark tie, he looked calm and composed, but Nancy could see the strain in his eyes.

“Nancy!” Carson said, enfolding her in his arms. “I was hoping you wouldn’t hear about this until I’d made bail. Hello, Ned-Bess. Ann, it looks as if you’ve got a lemon of a lawyer. Feel free to cut your losses and find another, if you like. I’ll understand.”

“How can you think such a thing?” Ann Granger protested. “You’re my lawyer, no matter what.”

Nancy’s father smiled slightly. “I appreciate your loyalty, but I’m not sure I can still work to your best advantage. Getting myself out of this will eat up a lot of my time.”

“Dad, are you forgetting me?” Nancy asked. “You can keep working for her. I’ll work for you.”

Drew shook his head. “I’d rather you didn’t, honey. I’ve been set up, and I’m sure organized crime has a hand in it.”

“Mr. Drew?” A young man in uniform stood at Carson’s elbow. “I’m sorry, but your visitors will have to leave now.”

Nancy gave her father a quick hug, smiling to hide how worried she was. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

“He might be a while,” the policeman said gently. “This way, sir.”

He led Carson Drew through a heavy door. It shut with a resounding thud, and that was the last glimpse Nancy had of her father.

Back out in the foyer, Ann Granger began to pace. “This makes no sense at all. Why has it all happened now? The court order, the death threats-the timing is all wrong.”

Nancy turned pale. “Death threats! Are you serious?”

“Only a couple of them.” Ann spoke as if she were used to death threats. “But why now? I’ve already written the articles exposing the insurance fraud, and I’ve cooperated with the grand jury-except for naming my source, of course. The grand jury will be handing down indictments any day now.”

“In other words, everything’s all over,” Ned said.

“Right. So what’s the point? Why threaten me and frame Carson, especially with something as ridiculous as trying to bribe a judge?”

“They goofed,” Nancy agreed. “Who’s going to believe my father would do such a thing?”

“Nancy,” Ned said, his voice gentle. “People will wonder. Don’t forget, your dad’s not accused of bribing just anybody. His accuser is a judge.”

“Which judge?” Nancy asked Ann.

“Renk. Judge Jonathan Renk.”

Nancy stared at her. “You must be mistaken! Uncle Jon would never do this to my dad.”

Ann’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Judge Renk is your uncle?”

“An honorary uncle. He’s a very close friend of my father’s. I’ve known him all my life.”

Ann groaned and slumped down onto a bench. “That makes it even worse. The accusation is coming from a respected judge who’s also a family friend? Even if Carson is cleared, his reputation will be permanently stained.”

“And if he isn’t cleared,” Nancy said, “it means a jail sentence. My father will have to go to prison!”

Nancy, Ann Granger, and Bess sat in the police precinct’s cafeteria. It was a dingy basement room filled with vending machines, but since it was nearly three, they were all too hungry for the decor to matter. Ned had already eaten and gone back upstairs to see how much longer they’d have to wait.

“I just don’t understand it,” Nancy said again. “How could my uncle Jon do this?”

Ann sipped her coffee. “Judge Renk’s reputation is as impeccable as your father’s. Maybe more so, since he’s been around longer. He must really believe the bribe came from Carson.”

“He has a good reason.” Ned appeared behind them. Turning a chair to face them, he straddled it. “It’s worse than we thought, Nancy. The police have a tape of a call your dad is supposed to have made to the judge, offering him the money.”

“What?” Nancy stood up, almost knocking her chair over. “Then the tape’s a fake!”

“It must be a good one,” Bess said, “if it fooled the judge.”

“Right. That’s really scary,” Nancy said. “But how could my uncle believe- Ned, do you have a quarter? I’m out of change.”

He dug into a pocket. “Who are you going to call?”

“My uncle Jon. I won’t be satisfied until he tells me he really believes my dad is capable of something like this.”

Nancy walked upstairs to the first-floor hall where she had seen a bank of telephones. As she deposited the quarter, Ann, Bess, and Ned hurried toward her.

Her ring was answered immediately, and she recognized the lilting brogue of the housekeeper. “Hello, Mrs. O’Hara,” she said. “This is Nancy. Nancy Drew.”

There was a sharp indrawn breath. “Ah, Nancy, it’s a dark day, isn’t it? How are you?”

“Fine, Mrs. O’Hara. Is my uncle Jon there?” The only response was a long silence. “Mrs. O’Hara, please,” Nancy begged. “You know how important this is.”

“Aye, that I do, Nancy. But his honor hasn’t been well, poor man, and this business with Mr. Carson has almost put him in his bed.”

“I’m sorry, but he can’t feel any worse than we do. May I speak to him?”

“He’s not home. And he’s not at the courthouse, either,” Mrs. O’Hara added hurriedly.

“What time do you think he’ll be back?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t know, and that’s the truth. Whenever it is, he won’t be taking calls. He’s that sick at heart.”

Nancy was determined not to give up. “When he gets back, would you ask if he’d see me? Please?”

A gusty sigh told her she had gotten past the first hurdle. “I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm to ask. I’ll call you and let you know.”

“I’d appreciate it very much, Mrs. O’Hara. Thank you.”

Nancy hung up, wondering if she could really count on Mrs. O’Hara’s help.

She glanced at the clock behind the sergeant’s desk. The afternoon seemed to be crawling by, and sitting around doing nothing made it feel that much longer. She wanted to get to work on her father’s case immediately.

Nancy turned to the reporter. “Ann, I need to know everything that’s happened so far. How about filling me in?”

“Sure.” Ann sat down on a bench and crossed her long legs. “I got an anonymous tip to check out the Mid-City Insurance Company. I found out that there was no such company. The address was a room about the size of a coffin, with a girl who answered the phone. Connie something.”

“I don’t know anything about insurance companies,” Nancy admitted. “But what’s wrong with using an answering service?”

“Not only did Mid-City not have an office anywhere,” Ann said, “they had no insurance agents.”