• • •
Cyril finished eating and left before the others. He wanted to make sure everything was ready for the music that evening. When Nancy and the others got to Holden Hall, they found the lounge already crowded. Early arrivals had grabbed the couches and chairs around three sides of the room. Everyone else was standing or on pillows on the floor. An area in front of the musicians had been left clear for dancing.
“So, Nickerson,” Nancy said mischievously, “do we get to hear you on conga tonight?”
“Sure, Drew,” Ned replied. “And how about I tell Jorge, the band leader, to call you up as a guest vocalist?”
“You do, and you’ll be wearing that conga drum as a necklace,” Nancy threatened.
Ned looked ready to try to top her, but at that moment the band filed in. Cyril picked up a mike and welcomed the crowd to the Emerson College Worldbeat Festival and gave a quick rundown of the weekend’s events.
“But that’s enough from me,” he concluded. “Now, party on!”
After three sharp taps on the bongo, the two guitarists started the infectious rhythm of a mambo. As the trumpeter launched into the melody, three couples took the dance floor. The rest of the room clapped and swayed in time to the music.
A slow number brought most of the crowd to the dance floor. Nancy had almost forgotten how much she loved dancing with Ned. Why didn’t they do it more often? When the music ended, everyone cheered. Not waiting for the applause to die down, the grinning musicians went into a cha-cha.
“Do you know how to dance to this?” Ned asked.
“I think I saw a lesson on TV once,” Nancy replied.
“Uh-huh. I don’t know, either,” Ned said. “But, hey, who’s watching? Come on, let’s try.”
As she and Ned cha-cha’ed around the room, Nancy kept an eye out for her friends. She spotted George on the sidelines, talking to J. P. A moment later Bess and Cyril swept past. What they were doing looked more like a tango than the cha-cha, but they were obviously having fun. So were all the rest of the kids in the room.
Oops—almost all. Dina was standing alone at the side of the room, wearing a glum expression. As Nancy watched, a guy went up to her and said something. Dina shook her head, without even looking at him. He shrugged and went away.
For the rest of the evening Nancy tried to put Dina out of her mind and enjoy her time with Ned. It was hard. She kept finding herself thinking of new questions about the e-mail and the drawing. She was tense, too, half-expecting something else to happen. She was almost glad when the music ended and the crowd started to drift away.
Ned walked her back to Dina’s dorm. After a few minutes of quiet closeness, he went on to his frat house and she went upstairs. Dina was already in bed with her eyes closed. Nancy changed into her pajamas and went down the hall to wash up and brush her teeth.
Just as she returned to the room, the phone rang.
Dina sprang up. It was almost as if she had been waiting for something like this. She pressed the button that turned on the speakerphone.
“This is a friendly warning,” a whispery voice said. “If you know what’s good for you, you will quit the race for IFC president. If you don’t, you could get hurt. Pay attention, or else.”
5
Trouble at the Bazaar
“Who is this?” Dina demanded. “What do you want?”
“Never mind who I am. You have been warned.”
The voice fell silent. Just before the click of the hangup, Nancy heard what sounded like a truck starting up.
Dina reached for the button to turn off the phone. She hit it so fiercely that the handset jumped off the console and dangled from its cord. She put the handset back, then buried her face in her hands.
Nancy went over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That was scary,” she said.
Dina looked up at her. “How can someone be so mean?” she wondered. “Night after night . . . I will never sleep now.”
“You’ve had calls like that before?” Nancy asked.
“Oh, yes,” Dina replied. “Three—no, four times. The first time he said nothing. Just silence. I thought it was a mistake, or maybe a nut. But, no, it is filthy politics.”
“Did the voice sound familiar?” Nancy probed. “Or the accent?”
Dina hesitated. “Well, no. But is it hard to guess who would do such a thing? Obviously Vlad or one of his henchmen.”
Nancy was silent. Dina might be right, of course. But was it a coincidence that the call had come at the very moment Nancy returned to the room? It was almost as if the caller wanted to be sure Nancy heard it. Was he watching the room, either from another room down the hall or from outside? That was a frightening thought.
However, there was another possibility. What if Dina had set up the call? She could have signaled the caller when she heard Nancy returning to the room, then pretended to be asleep. As for a motive, she might want to prove to the IFC members how underhanded her opponent was. If so, an outsider like Nancy would make a perfect witness.
As Nancy climbed into bed, she resolved to keep an open mind until she could learn more about the case.
• • •
“What a glorious morning!” Bess exclaimed. “Cyril, did you arrange for this weather?”
“Too right I did,” Cyril replied. “I ordered it specially from back home. Down Under, every day is perfect, of course, so they’d plenty to spare.”
The band of friends was walking across campus after meeting for a quick breakfast in the dining hall.
“Where are we headed?” George asked.
“We’ve been given the quad near the gym,” J. P. told her. “Most events during the day will happen there. And the dance tonight is inside the gym, so that is very convenient.”
