Once again they were at a dead end. She felt more frustrated than ever. The bigger this case grew, the harder it seemed to be to crack. Whoever he was, this practical joker had earned her respect: With one possible exception, he had pulled off all his crimes without leaving any clues.
Back at Emerson, the young detective said an awkward goodnight to Ned and started back to the dorm with her friends. The three walked in silence. Their mood was gloomy.
Finally, Bess spoke. “This is awful. It seems like there’s no way to catch this guy. You’ve seen him, though, right?”
“Last night in the parking lot,” George said, “didn’t you get any idea about who he might be?”
Nancy sighed. “No, and believe me, I’ve thought about it plenty. All I could tell was that the guy is tall and thin. That description could fit lots of people.”
“Like Tom.”
“Or Ray.”
“Or Mike,” Nancy concluded.
Not even seeing the practical joker in the flesh had done any good! Maybe Bess was right, Nancy thought darkly. Maybe there wasn’t any way to catch him at all!
A few minutes later, the trio rounded the corner of a large, windowless brick building. From the tall smokestack rising above it, Nancy guessed that it was the college’s central heating plant.
Suddenly George grabbed Nancy’s arm. “Nancy, look . . . over there by that fence! It’s the Camaro!”
Chapter Nine
Nancy’s heart began to race. George was right! To one side a short drive widened into a small shipping yard. On the yard’s far side, parked near a snow fence, was the Camaro!
There was no question that it was the one. It had the same smoked windows and the same custom hubcaps.
“I don’t believe it! What a break!” Nancy nearly shouted. “I’m going over there to get its license number.”
Bess whitened. “But, Nan, that guy could be somewhere around here!”
“I’ll be careful.”
As she started toward it, however, the car’s headlights blazed on. Its engine roared to life. The driver was still inside—the dark windows had hidden him from view!
Nancy watched in horror as the car leapt forward with a screech. He was going to get away! She had to stop him!
She glanced around wildly. At the top of the entrance drive was a pyramid of steel drums. She ran toward them, her hair flying. When she reached them she pushed with all her might, praying that they were empty.
They were. The top three drums tumbled over and began to roll slowly. Trapped, the Camaro skidded to a stop. Smoke spun from its rear tires as it flew backward. In no time it came to a stop near the open loading-bay door that led into the heating plant. What was he doing?
The driver’s door swung open. For a brief instant his tall, thin figure was silhouetted in the plant’s doorway. Then he disappeared inside.
“Quick! He’s getting away! Let’s go after him!” Nancy shouted.
George caught her at the entrance. “Nancy, don’t you think we should just get the license number and call the police?”
“Yes, let the cops handle it,” Bess agreed as she ran up.
“No way! Don’t you see? This is probably the only entrance to the building—we can trap him inside! Come on, you guys!”
Inside, Nancy tugged on the chain to the overhead door. It wouldn’t budge.
“Oh no! We’re going to have to hunt him down! George, you and Bess go around to the right. I’ll go the other way.”
“But, Nancy—!”
“Be careful. He probably has his gun.”
Nancy didn’t give them time to object. Quick as a flash she darted to the left, making her way around the side of a massive steam turbine, the noise from which was deafening.
The corridor ahead of her was empty. She crept forward warily, prepared to throw herself to the floor at any second. She reached the corridor’s end without a problem, though. Trembling slightly, she peered around the corner.
The corridor jogged right for ten feet, then left again. Nancy took the double corner cautiously, then crept forward once more. Tension mounted inside her. Somewhere ahead was the practical joker. Was it Mike? Ray? Tom? Whoever he was, he was very likely armed and dangerous!