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Authors: Carolyn Keene
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facts.”
“Okay, let’s see. I remember you showing me exactly where the original heist took place,” I said. It had been pretty exciting, actually. I could almost feel the history of the place come alive as he described the legendary theft. It was as if River Heights had its own pirate tale.
“What else,” I said. “Oh, yeah—when Lucia Gonsalvo found that gold coin last year and thought it was from a sunken treasure ship, you identified it as part of the Rackham Gang loot.”
“Very good,” Luther said.
“So what am I missing?” I asked. “Why are we talking about the Rackham Gang?”
“Well, as I said, it seems to me that the theft that took place across the street this morning is like the one by the Rackham Gang a century ago.”
“How so?”
“The Rackhams seemed to disappear into thin air. They were spotted before the heist, but nobody saw them in town after the theft.”
“You told me they escaped on the Muskoka. They had a boat waiting downstream.”
“That’s right,” Luther said. “The sheriff staked out the river, but unless you plant someone every couple of yards or so, there’s no way to cover every possible place to cast off a boat—especially at night. TheRackham Gang hid out until after dark. Then they escaped down the Muskoka with the loot.”
“Are you saying you think today’s thief escaped the same way?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Luther said, patting my shoulder as he stood. “You’re a clever one.”
As I watched Luther walk down the path, the bright red cardinal shook off his soggy feathers and flew away. I watched the bird until it vanished in the afternoon sunlight, and I thought about my conversation with Luther.
Suddenly I flashed back on the scene at the starting line that morning, when a stranger in shorts the color of a cardinal’s feathers seemed to vanish into thin air.
“I’ve got to talk to that security man,” I told myself. “He saw Red Shorts too—in fact, he warned him away from the safe. He must have put him on an interrogation list.”
I went back across the street to the bank and peeked through the window again. The activity inside had dulled some, and the empty safe stood unguarded. Most of the people were gone. I couldn’t see either Ralph Holman or Officer Rainey.
I walked casually back around to Highland Boulevard and down to the alley that ran along theback of the bank. A couple of police cars blocked the opposite ends of the alley. One unmarked black car was parked halfway between, near the bank’s back door.
I didn’t see any people in the alley, but I expected that someone would be guarding the bank’s back door. I hoped it was one of the River Heights policemen that I knew—someone who would answer my questions about the theft. I’ve worked with a few of the officers in town on past cases—strictly unofficially, of course. I really hoped it would be Chief McGinnis.
I sidled past the car that blocked the entrance to the alley. It was four thirty, and the bank building blocked the direct sun. The alley was a patchwork quilt of wavy dashes of bright reflected light and blotchy panther black shadows.
As I moved from the heat of the sun, a chill rippled across my shoulders. No one stood outside the bank door. I placed my ear against the cool metal door, but I couldn’t hear anything from the other side.
The door had no knob or lever. A swipe card slot was embedded in the wall next to it. That meant that employees were given magnetized identification cards.
I reached up and gave the door just the slightestpush with my fingertips. My breath stuck in my throat as the door slowly moved forward—and a voice shouted behind me.
“Nancy Drew!”
Red Light, Green Light
Nancy! Don’t tell me you’ve taken up bank robbery!”
I recognized the voice.
“Chief McGinnis,” I said. I turned around and gave him my most winning smile. I had mixed feelings about running into him this way. I was glad
“Okay, let’s see. I remember you showing me exactly where the original heist took place,” I said. It had been pretty exciting, actually. I could almost feel the history of the place come alive as he described the legendary theft. It was as if River Heights had its own pirate tale.
“What else,” I said. “Oh, yeah—when Lucia Gonsalvo found that gold coin last year and thought it was from a sunken treasure ship, you identified it as part of the Rackham Gang loot.”
“Very good,” Luther said.
“So what am I missing?” I asked. “Why are we talking about the Rackham Gang?”
“Well, as I said, it seems to me that the theft that took place across the street this morning is like the one by the Rackham Gang a century ago.”
“How so?”
“The Rackhams seemed to disappear into thin air. They were spotted before the heist, but nobody saw them in town after the theft.”
“You told me they escaped on the Muskoka. They had a boat waiting downstream.”
“That’s right,” Luther said. “The sheriff staked out the river, but unless you plant someone every couple of yards or so, there’s no way to cover every possible place to cast off a boat—especially at night. TheRackham Gang hid out until after dark. Then they escaped down the Muskoka with the loot.”
“Are you saying you think today’s thief escaped the same way?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Luther said, patting my shoulder as he stood. “You’re a clever one.”
As I watched Luther walk down the path, the bright red cardinal shook off his soggy feathers and flew away. I watched the bird until it vanished in the afternoon sunlight, and I thought about my conversation with Luther.
Suddenly I flashed back on the scene at the starting line that morning, when a stranger in shorts the color of a cardinal’s feathers seemed to vanish into thin air.
“I’ve got to talk to that security man,” I told myself. “He saw Red Shorts too—in fact, he warned him away from the safe. He must have put him on an interrogation list.”
I went back across the street to the bank and peeked through the window again. The activity inside had dulled some, and the empty safe stood unguarded. Most of the people were gone. I couldn’t see either Ralph Holman or Officer Rainey.
I walked casually back around to Highland Boulevard and down to the alley that ran along theback of the bank. A couple of police cars blocked the opposite ends of the alley. One unmarked black car was parked halfway between, near the bank’s back door.
I didn’t see any people in the alley, but I expected that someone would be guarding the bank’s back door. I hoped it was one of the River Heights policemen that I knew—someone who would answer my questions about the theft. I’ve worked with a few of the officers in town on past cases—strictly unofficially, of course. I really hoped it would be Chief McGinnis.
I sidled past the car that blocked the entrance to the alley. It was four thirty, and the bank building blocked the direct sun. The alley was a patchwork quilt of wavy dashes of bright reflected light and blotchy panther black shadows.
As I moved from the heat of the sun, a chill rippled across my shoulders. No one stood outside the bank door. I placed my ear against the cool metal door, but I couldn’t hear anything from the other side.
The door had no knob or lever. A swipe card slot was embedded in the wall next to it. That meant that employees were given magnetized identification cards.
I reached up and gave the door just the slightestpush with my fingertips. My breath stuck in my throat as the door slowly moved forward—and a voice shouted behind me.
“Nancy Drew!”
Red Light, Green Light
Nancy! Don’t tell me you’ve taken up bank robbery!”
I recognized the voice.
“Chief McGinnis,” I said. I turned around and gave him my most winning smile. I had mixed feelings about running into him this way. I was glad
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