Cody interrupted her. “We were planning to get together this evening,” he said, sounding a little hysterical. “If you do track her down, tell her to call me right away, okay? I’m studying for an exam, but I’ll try to make a few calls myself. Thanks for letting me know.” There was a click, followed by silence.
Nancy held the receiver away from her face and stared at it, trying to picture the guy who had just hung up on her. Cody Charles seemed more concerned about whether Cindy would make their date than about the fact that she hadn’t shown up for work. That was kind of odd.
Hanging up, Nancy turned to look for Bess and Charmaine. She nearly bumped into Miklos, the ponytailed guy who had met her and Bess so rudely at the door. He scowled at her and slouched away.
Nancy watched him go uneasily. He’d been standing awfully close behind her. Had he been eavesdropping on her phone call? And if so, why?
Rejoining Bess and Charmaine, Nancy briefly told them what she’d learned from Cody. “He wasn’t much help,” she added dryly.
“This is a disaster,” Charmaine fretted. “Carlo only reserved this studio for four days. If we lose a whole day’s shooting time, we could be in a real crunch.”
Bess gave her a puzzled look. “Isn’t this Carlo’s studio?” she asked.
Charmaine laughed. “No way! Do you know what a place like this costs? This building used to be a department store, but it went out of business years ago. It stood empty for ages until the city helped convert it to a film center. Lots of small production companies like ours have offices here.
“Whenever we need to, we rent one of the soundstages,” she continued. “But they’re usually booked well in advance. If we need more time, we have to find some other company who’ll sell us their time slot. Or else we have to move the whole shoot to another studio somewhere. And that would cost Carlo a mint.”
So this delay was really hurting Carlo, too, Nancy mused. Could someone have detained Cindy to hurt Carlo’s business? She was just about to ask Charmaine if Carlo had any enemies, when the director called from the doorway.
“Charmaine? Could you please come to the office?” he asked. “We have some arranging to do.”
Charmaine said goodbye to the girls and followed him off the soundstage.
“Nancy?” Bess said. “Shouldn’t we try to find Cindy? She might be in some kind of trouble.”
“I agree, but I need to ask Carlo and Charmaine a few more questions first,” Nancy replied. “I wonder where Carlo’s office is.”
Bess glanced around. “There’s Stella, over by the set,” she said. “We can ask her.”
Nancy and Bess started across the soundstage. Then suddenly Nancy halted, touching Bess’s arm and signaling her to be silent. Stella was in the middle of a heated argument with someone hidden by the edge of the set’s wall.
“—not to interfere,” Stella was saying in a steely voice. “I’m in charge of this account. You’re here as an observer.”
“And advisor.” Nancy recognized Erik’s voice. “And here’s my advice. Cindy Sunderland’s contract has an escape clause. Anytime she misses an engagement without a valid reason, we can cancel her contract. Well, she’s just missed one—let’s get rid of her.”
Nancy and Bess exchanged worried looks.
“I know all that,” Stella replied. “But what if she does have a valid reason?”
Erik snorted. “I’m sorry, Stella, but the girl’s a total flake,” he declared. “I’ve said so all along. We should dump her before we’ve invested any more in her. We can’t let her take this whole campaign down the tubes.”
“Look, Erik,” Stella said patiently. “I chose Cindy over a couple of dozen other candidates, because she has exactly the looks and personality we want. I’m not going to throw all that away, just because she’s an hour or so late.”
Nancy was listening intently. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she sensed something moving. She looked up and froze.
To the right of Erik and Stella, the wall of the set was tilting dangerously forward—and still falling. They were turned away from it, so they hadn’t noticed, but they were right in its path. At any second it was going to crash down on them!
3
Sabotage?
“Look out!” Nancy shouted. The wall of the set toppled forward with increasing speed. Stella and Erik turned around. Panic filled their eyes as they saw the danger they were in.
Nancy dashed forward, but before she could reach them Erik had yanked Stella aside. An instant later the set wall crashed to the floor, sending up a thick cloud of dust. There were shouts of alarm from around the studio. People came running.
Carlo came running back into the studio and shoved through the crowd to reach Stella and Erik. “What happened? Are you all right?” he demanded.
Before they could answer, Stefan, the food stylist, fell to his knees and scrabbled around in the debris. “Oh, no!” he cried, clapping his hand to his forehead. “My china! Carlo, I hope you’re well insured. That was genuine Depression ware—it’s irreplaceable!”
“We can talk about that later, Stefan,” Carlo replied. “For now, I am more concerned to know how the set could collapse like this.”
Nancy had been wondering the same thing. She had already moved around to the back of the set to study the way it was put together. The walls—frames of two-by-fours covered with wallboard—were held upright by triangular wooden struts that braced the walls against the floor. Heavy canvas sandbags were draped over the bottom of each strut, to hold it in place.
There were sandbags along the line where the fallen wall had stood, too. But they lay in a neat line on the floor, apparently undisturbed. Either they had never been put properly in place, or someone had moved them off the supports. The set wall had been so precariously balanced that almost anything—a draft of air, vibrations from a passing train—might make it fall over. And something obviously had.
Carlo came over and stared down at the sandbags, then met Nancy’s eyes. His jaw tightened in anger.
“Miklos!” he shouted. “Where is Miklos?”
The guy with the ponytail appeared from behind the far end of the set. Nancy wondered what he’d been doing there. Why hadn’t he come running when the set wall fell, the way everyone else had?
“Here I am,” he said sullenly. “What’s the problem?”
Carlo gestured at the fallen wall. “Problem?” he repeated. “Problem? I put you in charge of checking over the set. You didn’t do it.”
“I did so!” Miklos insisted. “I was the first one here this morning. I looked at everything. It was just as it should be.”
Nancy stepped forward. “Those sandbags,” she said, pointing to the bottom of the struts. “Were they weighing down the set supports?”
