“Rick, may I have your autograph?” a woman cried happily. Everyone crowded around him and began rifling through their bags for pens, too.
“Write one for my niece, Rick!”
“Oh, Mr. Arlen, thank you!”
Rick was standing by the guardrail signing the backs of envelopes, napkins, address books, and matchbook covers. Suddenly, the man who had been on the studio tour lunged forward, his eyes wild, his voice like thunder. “You killed Jill Rowan, and now you want to destroy Serena Livingstone. Well, I won’t let you! I’m not going to let filth like you near her! You’re going to die, Rory Danner—right now!”
With that, the man lunged for Rick, sending him halfway over the rail. He was about to plunge into the river!
Chapter Eight
Leaping for Rick, Nancy and Gilbert grabbed him just in time and pulled him safely back over the rail. Nancy felt a pair of hamlike hands on her shoulders. She turned to face the assailant and delivered a swift kick to his left shin. Then she seized his hand and flipped him head over heels onto the deck. The ship’s crew then held him pinned against the deck until the ship had docked and the police arrived, followed by a couple of reporters.
“Okay, fella, let’s go,” a police officer said, leading the man to a patrol car. “You’ll feel a lot better after a nice long rest.”
“I killed Rory Danner and the world will be a better place for it!” the man exclaimed. “He was filth! Filth!”
“Sure, sure,” another police officer said, agreeing. “You can tell the doctor all about it.”
As their limo pulled out of the parking lot, the crowd cheered Rick. He was leaning out the window, smiling and waving.
“Thank you, everyone!” he called. He slipped back into the car. “Well, thank goodness that’s over. And thank you, Gil. And Nancy.” Turning to Bess, he added, “You certainly know how to pick your friends, love.”
Gil still seemed a bit shaken. “You know, Rick, the way you were hanging over the edge there, I thought you were history.” He shuddered. “I’m going to sign up for karate lessons next week. I want to be prepared for fame.”
“Let’s just put the whole thing behind us, okay? Now it’s time to celebrate!” Rick grinned devilishly. “Why not go for the best! Driver—take us to Trump Tower!”
Later, riding up the escalator from the lobby of the brass-and-marble palace, Bess and Nancy looked around in wonder. The place, was amazing!
“This makes the River Heights mall look like a mom-and-pop store,” Nancy whispered. She looked all around her as they rose ever higher through the glittering atrium.
“Tell me about it!” Bess said enthusiastically. “Rick, I can’t believe people actually live in this building.”
“They do,” he assured her. “There are apartments here that sell for millions.”
“Seriously?” Bess couldn’t believe it. “What do they have, solid gold faucets?”
“Almost,” Gil replied. “You’d be amazed at what people spend their money on.”
“Cappuccino, anyone?” Rick broke in cheerfully. They had just come to an attractive cafe on an upper level.
Soon they were all sitting around a table sipping cups of the strong Italian coffee.
“You know what being here makes me realize?” Bess was saying. “I’ve realized that I’d make a great millionaire.”
“I think you’d make a lovely one, too,” Rick said, flirting. “In fact, I saw something in a shop across the way that I think you should have. Be right back.”
A minute later Rick came back to the table, holding a silk scarf printed in pastel geometric shapes. It matched Bess’s outfit perfectly.
“Oh, Rick!” she exclaimed. “It’s beautiful!”
“Wear it and think of me,” he murmured.” “So, everyone, are you ready to scale the heights? It’s such a clear beautiful day—what do you say we catch the view from the Empire State Building?”
“Sounds great!” Bess was beaming. Anything Rick said would have sounded great to her.
“I used to sell souvenirs at the observatory,” Gil threw in. “That was when I still worked for a living.” He straightened up and helped Nancy from her chair. “Madame?” he said. “Your chariot awaits. That is, Rick’s chariot awaits,” he said, correcting himself.