Joann’s shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t know how to prove it. The money came just as I said. It was wrapped in newspapers, just like the wooden animals in the same carton. It came by air express. I can show you the carton and the express company receipt. Would that help?”
Nancy examined the receipt. The shipment had left Asia on Thursday. Joann had signed for it on Saturday. It wasn’t proof, but it did fit with her account.
“Nancy?” George said. “Take a look at this.” She was standing at the desk, studying the piles of cash. “You notice? There don’t seem to be any of the new twenties and fifties, only the older version.”
Nancy looked. George was right. She checked her own wallet. Two of the three twenties were the newer type with the huge portrait of Andrew Jackson.
“I see your point,” Nancy said. “If this were the money from the dance last night, you’d expect some new bills.”
“And not nearly so many fifties,” George added. “Who pays to get into a college dance with a fifty-dollar bill?”
Bess joined them. She pointed to a stack of bills near the bottom of the pile. “What’s that paper band?” she wondered.
Joann looked puzzled. “That is nothing odd,” she said. “When the bank counts money, it always puts such a band on it.”
“May we see?” Nancy asked.
Joann pulled out the bills. They appeared to be all old-style twenties. The brown paper band was stamped with the name of a bank in the capital of Joann’s country.
“I don’t see how that could have come from the dance,” George said. “I’m satisfied.”
“So am I,” Bess said. “I’m glad I noticed it.”
Nancy knew the banded bills supported Joann’s story but didn’t actually prove it. Still, it was as close as they were likely to come at this point.
“We’d better go,” Nancy said. “We may have more questions later. And if I were you, I’d save the carton and all the packing material. If the police take over the case, they’ll want to examine them.”
“Of course,” Joann said, looking scared again at the mention of the police. “I’ll be careful.”
Nancy, George, and Bess hurried to the pancake restaurant, where they were to meet Ned, Cyril, and J. P.
“Bad news,” Ned said, waiting just outside the entrance. “There’s a half hour wait for a table. I put our names down, but I think we’d better go somewhere that’ll take us right away. We can’t be late for the steering committee meeting.”
“I noticed a neat-looking French bakery on the way here,” Bess said. “Why not just get pastries and coffee and sit on the grass somewhere? If we still need a real meal, we can eat after the meeting.”
The others liked the idea. A few minutes later they were enjoying a picnic breakfast in a college garden. Between bites, Nancy told the guys about Joann and the cash. “We’d better keep it to ourselves,” she concluded. “If the story got around, it really might cause problems for her family.”
“Too right,” Cyril said. “But I hope Joann doesn’t overlook Scrooge’s Law.”
Bess eyed him. “Is that the one that goes, If you have a fifty/fifty chance, you lose?”
Cyril grinned at her. “Close, luv. Actually the version I know is, If there’s anything you don’t want people to find out, they will.”
Nancy recalled Cyril’s words later, when the IFC steering committee assembled in a meeting room at the student center.
“I hate to tell you,” Penny said. “I got a call half an hour ago from a guy who’s a reporter on the Emersonian. He wanted to check out a rumor he’d heard. Was it true that somebody made off with all the proceeds of the Worldbeat Festival?”
Cyril groaned and put his head in his hands.
“I put him off,” Penny continued. “But he’s not going to stop digging. If we want our point of view to be heard, we’ll have to talk to him.”
“How long do we have?” Akai asked.
“They go to press around eleven at night,” J. P. said. “But breaking stories can be posted on the paper’s Web site as they come in.”
“Penny?” Cyril asked. “Can you get your friend to hold off until after the concert this afternoon?”
“I can try,” Penny said, but did not sound very confident.
Cyril turned to Nancy. “Any chance you’ll have an answer by then?”
“We can try,” Nancy replied. Her tone, like her words, echoed Penny’s.
“This reporter,” Vlad said. “What right does he have to pry into our private affairs?”
Dina gave a snort of disgust. “In this country,” she said, “the people have a right to know what is happening. It is not like some countries, where they are expected to act like sheep.”
Cyril sighed. “Can we at least make a feeble effort to stay on-topic?” he asked. “Completely apart from the emergency over the theft last night, we have to make ready for this afternoon’s concert.”
“We’d better not lose the money from that, too,” a girl with short brown hair said. “Who’s taking care of it today?”
Penny glared at her. “Listen, Consuelo. It wasn’t Lance’s fault the money disappeared, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything,” Consuelo replied. “But he was in charge of it. Where is he, anyway?”
“He had a lot of stuff to do in connection with the bike trip,” Penny explained. “He said he’d try to get here before we finish.”
“Good,” Cyril said. He looked down at his notes. “Dina? How about a treasurer’s report? What’s the financial picture of the club at this point?”
