The firefighters began filing out again. Carlo went over and spoke to one who seemed to be in charge. He came back shaking his head gloomily.
“They say we must wait at least half an hour for the air-conditioning to clear out the smoke,” he reported.
Stella, coming up behind Carlo, heard this. Her face tightened with worry. “Carlo,” she said, her voice trembling. “Another delay? We can’t go on like this. Sherman’s starting to talk about giving the account to another agency. McVie and Martin will fire me if I lose this account for them. My job is on the line—and let me remind you, so is yours.”
Carlo spread his arms wide, palms upward, and shrugged. “What would you have me do?” he demanded. “I did not leave a plastic bag on top of a transformer.”
“But somebody did,” Bess whispered to Nancy. “I’m betting on that guy Miklos. We know he was there just before the fire. And judging from the way he looked at us, I’ll bet he’s still really mad at Carlo.”
Nancy nodded absently. A few feet away in the crowd, she had just caught a glimpse of Stella’s associate, Erik. The expression on his face looked strangely happy, as though he was very pleased with himself.
Was it possible that he was sabotaging the commercial, as a way of undermining Stella?
Just then Gayle came pushing through the crowd. “Hi, everybody,” she said brightly to Nancy, Bess, Carlo, and Stella. “Isn’t this exciting? I’m just glad that we’d finished on Paul Norman’s set—I had time to get changed before the alarms went off. Can you imagine if we’d had to come down in pajamas? I would have died!”
Carlo nodded, staring oddly at Gayle. Suddenly he turned to Stella and said, “I have an idea. May I have a word with you?” He and Stella moved to the edge of the crowd.
Nancy glanced over at Erik again. He was looking after Stella and Carlo with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“You haven’t seen my boyfriend, Jason, have you?” asked Gayle. “I lost track of him when we had to evacuate the studio.”
“Sorry, no,” Nancy said. “Listen, Gayle, we wanted to ask you—you were there this morning when Ms. Bowers got that call from the kidnappers, weren’t you?”
“That’s right,” Gayle replied, looking disturbed. “I was so scared, I can’t tell you. I mean, Ann’s face practically turned gray. I thought she was going to faint!”
“You couldn’t hear what the kidnappers were saying, could you?” asked Bess.
Gayle shook her head. “No, of course not,” she said. “But I knew something had to be terribly wrong. And Ann told me everything the instant she got off. I could not believe it!”
Nancy nodded to herself. So at least Ms. Bowers had received the call, just as she said. After a moment’s thought, Nancy asked, “Gayle? Aside from you, who are Cindy’s friends in town? I’d like to get a better idea of what Cindy’s state of mind has been lately.”
“Let’s see,” Gayle said. “There’s Aviva Sacks and Sally Wu . . . oh, yes, and Tiffany Lincoln. We all got started modeling at about the same time and kind of hang out together, you know?”
“Great. You don’t know how I can get in touch with any of them, do you?” Nancy asked.
“As a matter of fact, Sally and Tiffany are both in a teen fashion show this afternoon at Waybridge’s, the big department store up on North Michigan Avenue,” Gayle replied. “The reason I know is that I was asked to be in the show, too. But Ann had already signed me up for Paul Norman’s shoot. I wouldn’t have had time to take a runway job the same day. The fashion show was supposed to start at four.”
Nancy checked her watch. “We can make it if we leave now,” she told Bess. “Thanks, Gayle. We’ll probably see you tonight at the apartment.”
Gayle looked startled, then said, “Oh, right. I’d forgotten you’re staying there. Okay, later.”
As they walked away, Nancy said, “We’ll be better off taking the local El train than trying to find a place to park up near Waybridge’s. We can pick the car up later.”
On the way to the elevated train station, Nancy stopped at a public phone and called Ann Bowers. When she got off, she told Bess, “Ms. Bowers knows the guy who’s directing the fashion show this afternoon. His name’s Andreas. She’s going to call and ask him to let us backstage.”
“Do we tell the other girls that Cindy’s missing?” Bess asked.
“We’d better keep that to ourselves.” Nancy said after a moment’s thought. “We’re simply interested in the teen fashion scene, okay?”
“Okay,” Bess agreed. “But, Nancy, don’t you think it looks more and more like Cindy’s kidnapping is part of a plot against Carlo? I mean, that fire just now was no accident.”
Nancy nodded. “A plot against Carlo, or against the Healthibits campaign,” she said.
“By Amalgamated Mills, for instance,” Bess put in. “I bet that guy Miklos is working for them. Or maybe Paul Norman is. Didn’t somebody say that he’d done a lot of commercials for them?”
“Doing commercials is one thing, setting fire to somebody’s studio is another,” Nancy pointed out. “Still, it is a connection to keep in mind.”
They found the entrance to the El. Despite its name—El was short for Elevated—in this part of town the trains ran underground. The girls walked down the stairs, bought tokens at the booth, and passed through the turnstiles.
As they reached the crowded subway platform, Nancy spoke the thought that was turning in her mind. “I wonder if Cindy really was kidnapped,” she said.
Bess turned to stare at her. “What? But, Nan, we know she was! What about those phone calls?”
Nancy stepped out of the way of another passenger. “Look, I know this sounds crazy,” she said. “But what if you decided to go away for a while, without telling anybody? If somebody else found out you were gone and felt really nasty, he could call your parents and announce that you’d been kidnapped, couldn’t he?”
“I guess so,” Bess said slowly. “I hope that’s all this is—just Cindy going away by herself. But why would she do that without telling anyone, right before her big break?”
“I don’t know,” Nancy admitted. “Panic? Stage fright? It doesn’t fit in with what we know about her. But maybe Cindy’s friends can give us a clearer idea of her state of mind. I still think that may be the key to solving this case.”
Bess shook her head, obviously unconvinced. Just then, the rumble of an approaching train stirred the crowd on the platform. As the train pulled in, brakes squealing, everyone edged forward.
Suddenly Nancy felt somebody press into her from behind. Was it just a commuter in a hurry, or was it a pickpocket, trying to distract her attention? She tried to turn around, but the surging crowd kept pushing her forward. She clenched her purse more tightly between her arm and her side. Nothing further happened.
Nancy stepped onto the subway car and looked around for Bess as the doors whooshed shut. Then she heard her friend let out a faint cry.
Nancy whirled around. “What is it?” she demanded. “Is something wrong?”
“Nancy, your jacket!” Bess gasped, grabbing on to a pole as the train gave a lurch. “Take it off and look at it!”
