She hunted until she found another cab—not a Gold Star—and took it to the dignified old section of town where the judge lived in a large white house.
“Something’s going on,” the cabbie said as they approached the front gate of the house. “I don’t think they’ll let me in there.”
It looked as if every reporter in town was camped along the street. A policeman sat in a squad car blocking the gate, and a second stood guard on the sidewalk.
Nancy was starting to say she’d get out right there when she noticed the reporters turning to stare into the taxi.
Quickly Nancy gave the cabbie directions to the rear entrance. Then she paid him and got out. The back gate was closed, too, but she buzzed the house from the intercom hidden in one of the brick pillars.
“It’s me—Nancy,” she told Mrs. O’Hara. After a two-second pause, the gate clicked open.
The housekeeper was waiting for her and drew her into the kitchen. Before Nancy had a chance to ask to use the phone, Mrs. O’Hara said, “The judge is in the library. He knew you’d come today.” She patted Nancy’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve had the devil’s own time getting him to eat. With you here, I have an excuse to serve a small snack. Perhaps he’ll take a mouthful or two to be sociable.”
“This isn’t exactly a social call,” Nancy said.
“I know. But be kind to him. He’s a good man.”
He had been, once, Nancy thought. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She hesitated. What about talking to the police? She should do it—but the man who had abducted her was probably long gone. She had better see the judge while he was willing.
She was leaving the kitchen when the housekeeper’s voice stopped her.
“Nancy, your father. Tell him Katie O’Hara sends her regards, will you?”
Nancy responded with a smile of gratitude and headed for the library.
At her first sight of Jonathan Renk, her heart lurched. He looked terrible sitting behind his desk. A small man normally, the judge seemed to have shrunk to be only a miniature of his former self. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his skin looked slack and loose, like an old suit grown large because its owner had been dieting.
He didn’t see her enter, but he must have sensed her presence because his chin came up sharply. But then he relaxed. There was a hint of a smile on his thin lips. “Oh, it’s you, Nancy. Come in, come in. I always forget how much you look like your mother.”
Nancy needed no reminder of how far back his friendship with the Drews went. “Thank you for seeing me, Uncle Jon,” she said softly. “Mrs. O’Hara told me you aren’t feeling well, so I’ll try not to be long.”
“I’d be grateful. I was about to go upstairs.”
Taking a deep breath, Nancy searched for a way to begin. “Uncle Jon, I—I realize that you would have to report a bribery attempt, but—”
“I should have known you’d appreciate my predicament,” the judge said, a trace of his old spark appearing. “Our system of justice is under attack from all sides, all sides. We on the bench are obligated to—”
“Excuse me,” Nancy said, interrupting him. “I meant that I wouldn’t expect you to do anything else. But please tell me that no matter how it looks, you know my dad would never stoop to bribery.”
The skin around his mouth tightened. “You can’t know what a person will do until you’ve carried his burden, sat in his place.”
“But—”
“I will say that Carson has always represented the best of his generation in the protection of our laws.”
“And that hasn’t changed. You know how dedicated he is. He would never bribe anyone, Uncle Jon. He’s innocent!”
The judge, dwarfed behind the massive desk, nodded wearily. “Then there’s no need to worry. It’ll be proven in a court of law. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very tired. It’s been a bad week. My Martha was buried a year ago yesterday, you know.”
Nancy was startled. She hadn’t realized it had been a year since the judge’s wife died. But she couldn’t let him go yet. “Wait, please, Uncle Jon. Just a minute more.”