Suddenly Ned stopped, looking into the window full of large-screen televisions. “Nancy, isn’t that your dad?” he asked.
“Where?”
“There. Look.”
Nancy looked into the store and saw tall, distinguished Carson Drew on all the various TV screens. He appeared to be leaving his office building, his arm in the grip of a uniformed police officer.
“I wish we could hear,” Bess said as they watched a reporter shove a microphone under Carson Drew’s nose on the nearest set.
“Let’s go inside so we can hear.” Nancy spun around and darted into the store.
A balding salesman hurried to her, but before he could speak, she held up a hand. “Please, we aren’t buying. We just want to . . .”
Her voice trailed off as she saw the police officer put her father into the rear of a squad car. A tall, brown-skinned young woman got into the front seat. As the camera swiveled back to the reporter, Nancy crossed to the nearest set and turned up the sound.
“Hey!” the salesman protested.
“To recap,” the reporter was saying, “Carson Drew, internationally known criminal lawyer, has been accused of attempted bribery.”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Drew,” the reporter went on, “is representing Ann Granger, an investigative reporter for the River Heights Morning Record. He is alleged to have offered a judge ten thousand dollars to quash the court order that would force Granger to reveal the source of a recent story in the Morning Record. Granger’s expose uncovered an insurance scam run by members of organized crime. That’s all for now, Larry. This is Jim Pratt at Judiciary Square.”
“I’ve got to go to him!” Nancy said, hurrying from the store with Ned and Bess at her heels. “It’s all a terrible mistake. My dad would never—”
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Ned agreed. “Hey! Watch it, Nancy!”
But Nancy was halfway across the street, darting between oncoming cars. Bess ran after her and tumbled into the back seat. By the time Ned had closed his door, Nancy was pulling away from the curb. One second later, and he’d have been left behind.
The police station was already jammed with reporters, cameramen, and newspaper photographers. Electronic flashes flared, and the quartz lights set up by the television crews exposed the faded paint on the grimy walls.
Nancy didn’t see her father anywhere. At the moment all the microphones were pointed at the woman who had gotten into the police cruiser with Nancy’s father.
“Who is she?” Bess asked. She was out of breath from the sprint from the parking lot.
“Dad’s client.”
“What will you do now that your lawyer’s in jail, Ms. Granger?” a reporter shouted.
Nancy was too far away to hear Ann Granger’s answer. She was edging around the crowd to get to the desk sergeant to ask if she could see her father.
“Well, I don’t know,” the officer said after Nancy got to him. He eyed her uncertainly. “He’s being processed, and we don’t usually— You’re his daughter, you say?”
“That’s right. Nancy Drew. Please, I—”
The sergeant’s face cleared. “Say, you’re the kid who’s the detective, aren’t you? I’ve heard of you. Let me see what I can do.” He disappeared through a set of double doors.
“You okay?” Ned asked softly, tilting Nancy’s chin up to peer into her face.
Nancy nodded. “I’m fine. I just hope they’ll let me talk to my dad.”
“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.