“Well, there may be. It’s been a long time, so I’m not sure.”

“Tell me anyway,” Nancy said, prompting him.

“When the parking garage first opened, there were attendants who took your car and parked it for you. They used a conveyor elevator to get up and down to the different levels.”

“A conveyor elevator?”

“It’s like one long, moving ladder. All it would have is platforms big enough for your feet, and handholds. If you hop on it from one side, it would take you up-”

“And on the other side, you’d go down,” Nancy interrupted excitedly. “But they don’t use parking attendants anymore. Would the electricity still be on?”

“I doubt it. But if the conveyor’s still there-if they didn’t dismantle it, I mean-it would be stationary. You might be able to climb down it.”

“It’s worth a try,” Nancy said. “Mr. Tyler, thank you so much.”

She hung up immediately and called Ned. The line was busy, so she dialed Bess. “Oh, it’s you,” her friend said. She didn’t sound very happy to hear from Nancy.

“Listen, Bess,” Nancy said hurriedly. “They’ve moved my dad’s pretrial hearing to today-”

“What?”

“Two o’clock this afternoon. Will you let Ann know and get her there on time? He’s going to need a cheering section, and I know she’ll want to be there.”

“She’s not at home,” Bess said. “I figured you’d know where she was, since you two have gotten so tight.”

“Huh?” Nancy said.

“Well, you obviously didn’t want me along last night. I know she’s bright and fun and all, but we’ve known each other-”

Fear pierced Nancy. “Bess, what do you mean I didn’t want you along last night?”

“Well, what else could I think? Your message was as plain as day.”

Nancy gritted her teeth. “What message, Bess?”

“You didn’t leave a message for Ann last night?”

“What message, Bess?”

Sudden panic made her friend’s voice squeaky. “Ann said you’d left a message at the Morning Record that you wanted her to wait for you in the newspaper parking lot at eleven last night. You wanted her to come alone, and you’d pick her up in your cab.”

Nancy shivered, chilled to the bone. “They’re on to me,” she said. “They know I drive a cab. Somehow I blew my cover.”

“Oh, no!” Bess said.

“That’s not the worst. Reston was showing my dispatcher something in the back seat of a cab last night. And he said something about ‘after Granger talks.’ It must have been Ann in the cab!”

“Nancy, call the police!”

“I don’t have any proof! I didn’t actually see her. They aren’t going to raid what they think is a reputable business on my say-so.”

“What can we do?”

“Meet me at the parking garage, Bennett Street entrance, in half an hour. Reston drove the cab down to the basement. She may still be there.”

“I’m on my way,” Bess said and hung up.

Ned’s line was still busy. Desperate, Nancy asked an operator to break in. “This is an emergency!” she cried.

The operator must have heard the panic in her voice, because she gave her no argument.

After an interminable wait, the operator came on again. “Sorry. There is no one on the line. It must be out of order. I’ll report it.”

It’s off the hook, Nancy thought. Well, there was nothing she could do about it. It was time to go. With or without Ned, she would have to get into that basement in broad daylight.

Chapter Fifteen

Nancy spent the drive to the parking garage trying to figure out how she had slipped up. How could she have blown her cover? Bess was waiting at the Bennett Street entrance when she arrived, so Nancy decided to think about it later.

“Where’s Ned?” Bess asked.

“I couldn’t get him. I’m pretty sure his phone is off the hook. Hannah said she’d go and get him for me.”

“Okay. What are we doing?”

“First we find a conveyor elevator.”

“A what?”

Nancy explained as they trotted toward the enclosure that had served as the attendants’ booth. It seemed logical that the conveyor would be somewhere near it.

“Here it is!” Nancy said.

It was behind the booth-no more than an air shaft with a structure inside that was precisely what Mr. Tyler had described. Nancy aimed her penlight into the space below. With luck, she’d be able to climb down. If her luck held, she’d wind up on Gold Star’s side of the basement.

“Nancy, are you sure about this?” Bess asked. Her normally pink complexion was very pale.

“I’m sure. I’ve got to find Ann, as well as get proof that Brownley and Reston were behind the frame-up against my dad.” Nancy pulled a long chain from under her sweater. Hanging from it was a whistle.

“What’s that for?” Bess asked.

“Help, that’s what. You stay here. If you hear this whistle before Ned gets here, scream your head off. Do whatever you have to to get help. If Ned gets here and you haven’t heard me blow this, send him down.”

Bess shook her head stubbornly. “I’m going with you. I’m scared, but I want to, so let’s not waste time arguing about it.”

Nancy hugged her. She knew it would be more sensible to leave Bess as a lookout, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to have her along for moral support. “Thanks, Bess,” she said. “Well, let’s go.”

It was a scary climb. The belt kept swaying, and after a certain point, Nancy felt as if she were climbing into a black hole, groping for the next place to put her feet. Above her, Bess peered nervously down into the darkness.

At the bottom, however, Nancy could see fairly well. On her right was a concrete block wall and a closed door. But on her left, light spilled over a row of boxes stacked six high.

Nancy helped Bess to the bottom and signaled for her to stand still.

Bess wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?” she whispered.

It was the same smell Nancy had caught when Brownley had opened the door upstairs for Reston’s cab. She was in Gold Star territory. And the smell was paint.

Nancy crossed to the door in the concrete wall and turned the knob. If it was a closet, they might have imprisoned Ann Granger in there.

But it was a workshop. Two-way radios and other mysterious electronic equipment filled shelves along the back wall. Several large tape decks and a pair of cassette players sat on a worktable. There were also electric drills and polishers.

In a bookcase just inside the door were hundreds of cassette tapes, neatly shelved and cataloged. A file cabinet was in a corner, and one drawer was hanging open.

Bess stuck her head in, and her eyes went round with wonder.

“This must be Fleet’s side of the basement,” Nancy whispered.

“Why would a courier service need tape-editing equipment? That’s what that is.” Bess pointed to a device on the table.

Nancy nodded toward the bookcase full of cassettes. “I wonder if any of those have my father’s voice on them.”

“Why don’t I check this side of the basement?” Bess whispered. “You check the other side.”

“Okay. It’s a long shot, but my back’s against the wall.”

“Come get me if you need me.” Bess crossed to the file cabinet and dug in.

Her nose twitching from the smell of paint, Nancy went back to the other side. A row of stacked boxes was the only thing preventing her from seeing what Gold Star had stored in there.

She pushed against one stack. It didn’t move. Whatever was in the boxes was heavy. She might have to climb Up to see over them.

Moving quietly, Nancy walked the length of the boxes and found a space perhaps a foot-and-a-half wide between the last stack and a round concrete column. She turned sideways and squeezed through the narrow space.

At first, everything looked perfectly normal. Shiny new cabs were parked along the opposite wall. A row of passenger cars was backed against the boxes. It was very quiet and still.

Then Nancy heard the big door being pulled open upstairs. She was tempted to slip behind the boxes again, but there wasn’t time.