“Well, well, you are an amazing young lady,” Ms. Amberton said with a deep chuckle. “I do congratulate you on your stunning detective skills. It appears that you have won this round, doesn’t it?”
Nancy stared at her. “So that’s it,” she said. “A game. The whole thing has been a game of wits all along. You’ve been laying out the clues for me to follow, haven’t you?”
“Indeed, yes,” Ms. Amberton said, sitting easily on the corner of the desk. “In fact, I think a little boasting is in order, if you don’t object. I masterminded the whole thing—all of it. But I didn’t do it for the money, of course.”
“Of course not,” Nancy said, going to the balcony door to look out. “You did it for the fun of it, didn’t you? It was a test of your abilities—your criminal abilities.”
“Exactly.” Ashley Amberton beamed. “At first, of course, there was just the pleasure of finding out what I could do, practicing in a way. Why else would anyone want to bother with such insignificant blackmail victims as poor Monique and Jacques and that miserable Evans girl?”
“But then, as you began to discover your real talents, it occurred to you that there was bigger game out there. So you went after Lake, and Annette and Emile Dandridge.”
“I knew about their silly little mistakes, of course,” Miss Amberton said with a modest shrug. “It’s simply amazing how much you can find out if you have an inquiring mind and are determined to learn about people’s pasts. But after a while even that game lost its challenge. So—”
“So you decided to test yourself against me,” Nancy said, looking out into the night. “Even at the risk of getting caught.”
Ashley stood up. “Who else is worthy of my efforts? Your reputation, your skill.” She smiled a little. “Although I must admit that your friend George did tax my physical capabilities to their limit. It’s a good thing I’ve been working out at the gym for the past year. I could never have managed to carry her otherwise.”
Her smile deepened into a laugh and she opened the top desk drawer. “As for getting caught, well—you may have won this round, Nancy Drew. But you haven’t won the game.” She reached into the drawer of her desk and pulled out a gun. Ms. Amberton stepped closer to Nancy, her eyes glittering. “And you’re not going to, either.”
Nancy’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun. “You—you wouldn’t,” she said in a whisper.
“It’s a miracle that you survived the helicopter crash,” Ms. Amberton said, her lips taut. “But no miracle can help you escape a fifteen-story fall.” She shoved the gun into Nancy’s stomach. “Our little game is over, Nancy Drew, and I’ve won. Now get out on that balcony!”
A loud shout rang through the office as Ned burst in through the balcony doors. Ashley Amberton half turned, her attention distracted, and Nancy aimed a hard, quick karate chop at her extended forearm. With a moan, she dropped the gun and grabbed her arm. Nancy scooped up the gun and pointed it at her.
“It’s broken,” Ms. Amberton groaned in agony. “You’ve broken my arm!”
At the same moment, George rushed through the office door with Annette LeBeau, a cameraman, and two burly policemen right behind her.
“You see, Ashley,” Nancy remarked pleasantly, “the game’s never over until the final move.”
While the lights blazed and the camera whirred, the police arrested Ashley Amberton. Her eyes glazed with pain and defeat as they led her out the door. Annette followed close behind, holding a microphone over Ms. Amberton’s shoulder and firing rapid questions at her as they went down the hall.
“Whew,” Nancy said, collapsing onto the plush sofa. “I’m glad that’s over!” She looked at Ned. “Thanks for being on time with your cue,” she said. “I would have hated to take a swan dive off that balcony.”
Ned laughed. “I felt a little queasy at the idea of crawling out that window in the next office and onto a balcony fifteen stories up,” he admitted. “But it all worked out.”
“And I was a little worried that Annette wouldn’t arrive with the police in time for Ms. Amberton’s confession,” George said. “But we heard every word of it. And Annette had the mike going, too, so I’m sure it’s on tape.” She laughed. “Annette has even thought of a title for her story,” she said.