“You do okay yourself,” George said consolingly.

The match had almost reached the end of the second set when Nancy became aware of three figures making their way up the wooden stairs to the row of boxes: A middle-aged woman with auburn hair-Senator Kilpatrick-followed by two men in dark suits, who Nancy assumed were from the Secret Service.

The senator stopped at the entrance to the box and spoke in a low voice. “Nancy, I need to speak to you. Alone.”

Without a word Nancy rose. At a signal from the senator, Dan, Bess, and George remained in the box.

The senator led the way straight to a small concrete building just inside the players’ restricted area. It was empty except for a file cabinet, a desk, and a few chairs. “The tournament committee uses this as an office,” Senator Kilpatrick said, noticing Nancy’s surprise.

After checking the room, the senator’s guards shut the door and took up posts outside, leaving Nancy and the senator together.

Nancy was beginning to feel uneasy. “Something’s happened.”

Senator Kilpatrick’s eyes were anguished. But when she spoke her voice was absolutely level and emotionless.

“I’ve just been over at the hotel where one of the San Carlos delegates to my committee’s conference is staying. Security people there found a body in the hotel garage. It was Roberto. He’s been murdered.”

Chapter Seven

For a moment the closeness in the room made it hard to breathe. Distantly, applause and roars of approval came from the tennis courts. Somewhere near at hand a bird was singing.

Then a faint breeze came through the window and broke the spell.

Nancy wet her lips. “How was he killed? In the hotel gunfire?”

Senator Kilpatrick shook her head. “He was strangled-with a rope-sometime during the night.” She paused. “The medical examiner said there had been torture.”

“Then he might have given away the list.”

“It’s possible,” the senator said quietly.

All at once, despite the summer heat, the room was very cold. “Poor Teresa,” Nancy said at last. “Who’s going to tell her?”

Senator Kilpatrick looked at her directly. “We are. On behalf of our government, I’m going to assure Teresa that we’ll help her return home, or remain here for the rest of the tournament, as she wishes. You saved Teresa’s life. I believe she trusts you. Definitely more than she trusts anyone else around here. I want you with me when I tell her that she has to be questioned.”

“You don’t think Teresa had anything to do with Roberto’s murder!” Nancy exclaimed.

“I have no reason to think so. But she may be the only person who can give us clues that will prevent more murders. She doesn’t have diplomatic immunity to protect her from being questioned. If she’ll consent to it willingly, it will avoid a lot of… unpleasantness. For all of us.”

In other words, Nancy thought, the government wants me to persuade Teresa to spill the beans. Whatever they are!

If she did, it might save Teresa herself from further danger. Nancy stopped short. Had someone intended to kidnap Teresa as a lever to make Roberto talk? Or had it been the other way around? That was something she’d have to think about later. At the moment, Teresa was playing her heart out on the field, while United States government agents waited.

“I’ll help you tell her-if you wait till her match is finished,” Nancy said firmly.

“There’s no reason to spoil that,” Senator Kilpatrick agreed. “We don’t want to attract attention, anyway. You’ve met Teresa’s official chaperon, haven’t you? Point her out to me. I want to make sure she’s not around when I talk to Teresa.”

The request would have seemed unkind, but Nancy remembered the overprotectiveness she had seen yesterday in Señora Ramirez’s behavior. She probably wouldn’t let Teresa say more than two words, Nancy thought.

Nancy and the senator went back to the playing area, escorted by the Secret Service agents. The match was nearing its close. “That’s the woman,” Nancy whispered, pointing with her program toward a black-dressed figure in the stands. Had Señora Ramirez already heard about Roberta’s death, or did she always look as though she were in mourning?

Senator Kilpatrick spoke quietly to the nearest agent. Within seconds, two business-suited government men were edging their way toward Teresa’s chaperon.

As the match ended-another win for Teresa amid a roar of applause-Nancy saw the two close in around Señora Ramirez and steer her toward an exit at the other end of the grandstand.

Teresa came striding toward the path to the gymnasium, shouldering her way almost obliviously through a throng of well-wishers. She was wiping her dripping face with a towel, and the look in her eyes was remote.

Nancy stepped in front of her. She had to speak twice before Teresa heard her.

“Oh, Nancy. Yes. Did you enjoy the match?” Teresa asked in Spanish.

That was not the real question she wanted to ask, and Nancy knew it. “No, I didn’t,” Nancy said directly, and she saw Teresa flinch. She tucked her arm through one of Teresa’s, as Senator Kilpatrick did the same on the other side. “This is one of our American senators, and a good friend,” Nancy said gently. “We need to talk to you.”

Secret Service men were deftly surrounding the three women and moving them in a unit toward the little concrete office.

As soon as the door was shut, Teresa looked at Nancy. Her eyes were dry. “Muerto. He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.

Nancy nodded. “Yes, he is. I’m so sorry. Teresa, we need your help to catch Roberto’s killers. Senator Kilpatrick will explain about it.”

“First, I must know how he died,” Teresa said.

She listened stoically as the senator recited the story. “I do not know why it happened,” she insisted as the senator questioned her gently. “All the time, in my country, there is killing. I did not think that could happen here.”

“Could the other killings in your country have anything to do with your friend’s death?” Senator Kilpatrick pressed. “Could they be connected to Roberto’s murder?” The older woman repeated the question in Spanish to make sure it was understood.

Teresa’s eyes flashed. “No! All Roberto cares about is tennis-and me!”

She was speaking in the present tense, Nancy noted with a pang. The realization must have struck Teresa, too, for the girl suddenly froze. Her eyes widened. Then, abruptly, she bent over sobbing.

“Give me a few minutes with her,” Nancy whispered to Senator Kilpatrick. The senator nodded and slipped out. Nancy wrapped her arms around the slight, shaking figure and helped Teresa into a chair. She knelt beside her, holding her.

“I am sorry,” Teresa said at last, straightening up again.

“Don’t be. You have a right to cry,” Nancy said.

Teresa shook her head faintly. “What you ask about Roberto… He has been my tennis trainer for three years, but my-what do you American girls call it?”

“Boyfriend?” Nancy suggested.

“My boyfriend three months only. Three wonderful months. We talk about so much. Never about politics. Never about governments.” Teresa glanced at Nancy. “Since I am young, I have love for him. Why should we talk about politics?”

“What did you talk about?”

“He was so kind,” Teresa said vaguely. “So romantic. He gave me a book of poetry just before we came to America…”

Senator Kilpatrick came back in, followed by her bodyguards, and at once the atmosphere became businesslike. The authorities-which ones? Nancy wondered-had already searched Roberto’s locker in the men’s gym and his hotel room. Now, said the senator, they wanted to search Teresa’s too, just to see if he’d left anything there that could give a clue. Her chaperon was currently being questioned, but Teresa could ask to have her present for the search if she wanted.