"You're Not
Nancy Drew"
By Jennifer Joy Arend
It was midnight in Las
Vegas, but you would never know it. Neon lights and flashing signs dazzled on
streets still crowded with tourists, gamblers, and clubbers. The city never
slept.
Downtown, Las Vegas City
Savings & Loan was being robbed, but no one realized it. The man fumbling
with the security system was obscure in his black suit, and people didn't slow
down long enough to peek into the shadows that hid him from their casual
glances. This was all for the better. If someone were to find out about what he
was doing, he might have to take drastic measures. The
thought startled him because he was not a heartless man. He was only a desperate
one.
Finally, he heard the
buzzing of the system and a light flashed. The doors were open. He entered
feeling calmer than he had expected. In a rush (although there really wasn't any
more danger of getting caught), he opened the main safe and took as much money
as he could fit in his pockets.
The next day, the bank
managers were frantic. How could this have happened? How did the thief get past
the security system? If he had not known the code, he would have only had three
guesses before a silent alarm would have alerted the police. Was he just a good
guesser, or did he know the code? And if he did--------how?
Sherrie Regard's mother
was a clerk at the bank. When she got home from work that evening she was
sullen, and began railing on to her husband about the missing money.
"There's about
$100,000 gone, and no one can justify where it went or how it could have been
stolen," Sherrie overheard. "And if we don't find the money soon we'd
better just pray that our insurance comes through or this could be an
insufferable loss."
Sherrie was 15 years old,
and not at all interested in banking affairs. But, she loved mysteries and this
sounded almost like one of her "Nancy Drew" novels. Her mother told
her she was much too old for such things, but Sherrie did not agree.
"Mom," Sherrie
interrupted. "Can I go with you to work tomorrow? I'm off school, and I'd
like to do some research on the computers."
Sherrie often used the
bank computers to surf the net. In most cases though, she wasn't doing research.
The bank had the computers hooked up to the internet for online transactions,
but when Sherrie was there all that could be heard from the computer room was
the endless pounding of keys as Sherrie talked to sometimes a dozen or so pen
pals through instant messenger.
Although asking to use the
bank computers was a common request, Sherrie's mom was as not easily fooled.
"Sherrie, you can
ride with me to work tomorrow, but please restrain yourself from getting
involved in the mystery of the missing money. I know you think your detective
instincts are acute, but darling this is not a mystery novel, and you're not
Nancy Drew."
Sherrie sighed and nodded
her head. She climbed the steps to her room feeling tears come to her eyes. Her
mother's interminable onslaught on her obsession with mysteries was really
starting to get to her.
Well I'll show her, she
thought. She dried her tears on her pillow case and reached for the book she had
been reading. Soon she was lost in the book, solving the mystery alongside Nancy
Drew. She even knew who the criminal was before Nancy did. After she crawled
into her bed that night, she thought long about the missing money. Suddenly she
had a plan.
The next day, Sherrie went
with her mother to the bank and was taken straight to the computer room. Well,
actually it was only a little office with three computers, but most bankers did
internet transactions from their desks. These were just in case the other
computers were down.
For a while, Sherrie
chatted and ineffectually searched for a Nancy Drew website. Then, when she knew
it was 3:00, the busiest time of day, she crept out of the room unnoticed, and
began to search for clues. She had no idea what she was looking for, but she
figured that no detective knew what to look for right away.
Either her detective instincts
were in fact acute, or fate was on her side that day. Sherrie gasped when she
saw a gold cufflink glistening in the sunlight below one of the front windows. A
hand reached for her's as she reached for the cufflink.
"Thank-you Miss! I've
been looking for that cufflink all morning!" A bright smiling teller took
the cufflink from her hand and walked away. With a disappointed sigh, Sherrie
went back to looking for clues.
She'd been searching for
about an hour before she came to the door of the bank president's office. She
stopped to eavesdrop, and put her ear to the door.
"Mr. Brinton, I'm
very sorry. I thought this was one of my cufflinks. I had lost one, but I found
it on the floor by my window. It must be yours. These are your initials engraved
here. I have no idea how I could have thought it was mine," Sherrie heard
the teller say.
That would explain why the
security system didn't go off. The president would know the code------of course!
In her excitement, Sherrie ran from the door of the office to her mother's desk
among the clerks.
"Mom, I know who the
thief is!" She shouted excitedly.
With a frown, Mrs. Regard
put a finger to her lips to silence her.
"Sherrie, I don't
have time for games right now. Go and finish your research."
Sherrie opened her mouth
to explain, but no words came out. Her mother had gone back to her work, and it
was a lost cause.
Still, when Sherrie heard
one of the managers talking about the insurance, she knew she could be the
bank's last resort.
So, Sherrie went wondering
again, determined to get her hands back on that cufflink. It was almost closing
time now. She would have to hurry. She went up to the smiling teller's window
uncertain of exactly what she planned to do.
"Hello...um...could I
perhaps see one of your cufflinks, sir?" She asked.
The teller's smile faded,
and his face was flushed.
"Why?" He
inquired.
"Well," she
answered innocently. "My dad's birthday is coming up in a few days, and I
was thinking of buying him cufflinks, but I don't know what kind or anything.
Could I see yours?"
The teller looked
relieved, and Sherrie wondered if he was really that stupid or if he just wanted
to believe her.
"Ok."
He handed her both
cufflinks. Sherrie studied them carefully, and noted the initials. She also
noticed the letters L.V.C.B.P. What did that stand for? Oh well it's probably
nothing, she thought.
"J.B.," she
stated pointing to the initials. "What's your name?" She asked.
"Joseph
Bradford," he answered.
She handed the cufflinks
back to the teller, and hurried down to the president's office. It wouldn't be
easy asking the president to see his cufflinks, but she was sure going to try.
Surprisingly, Mr. Brinton
welcomed Sherrie into his office.
"I've been wanting to
ask you if you had some spare time to maybe teach me about the internet."
He chuckled. "But I haven't had the time today to ask you. I'm delighted
that you stopped by, Miss Regard."
Sherrie smiled. "I'd
be glad to."
She pretending to be just
noticing his cufflinks.
"Oh, Mr. Brinton, may
I see your cufflinks?" She gave him the same excuse about a gift for her
father, and he handed them to her.
The initials were the
same, and only one of the cufflinks had the letters L.V.C.B.P. just like the
teller's. Sherrie cried out in surprise.
"What's the
matter?" Mr. Brinton looked concerned.
"Those are the same
initials as one of your tellers," she explained quickly. He still looked
puzzled at this as he showed her out.
Sherrie sat down on a
bench outside of the president's office. She considered the facts in her head.
The teller saw me pick up
the cuff-link. He told me it was his. Then I heard him give it to Mr. Brinton.
The letters were L.V.C.B.P. on just one of the cufflinks of each pair. What
could that stand for? Las Vegas City......BANK PRESIDENT! I bet the teller is
trying to frame Mr. Brinton! He has Mr. Brinton's true cuff-link which he could
say that he found and show it to the police. It makes perfect sense. It was the
teller! But now what?
Sherrie didn't think for
long, and that was good because time was running out. The plan was simple. She
would simply tell Mr. Brinton to take a good look at his cufflinks.
She went back to his
office, saying that it was important. Just then her mother came running towards
her.
"Sherrie, Mr. Brinton
does not need to be bothered right now! The police are here to arrest him!"
So, the teller had wasted
no time. Sherrie forced her way into Mr. Brinton's office and told him what to
look for on his cufflinks. He looked even more confused, and as quickly as she
could, Sherrie explained.
Sherrie also explained
things to the police, and she was surprised that they listened to her------a
detective wannabe! But, they did.
When the teller was
questioned, he was so nervous that he confessed to everything. When he was
arrested, Sherrie's mother had only her designing daughter to thank.
"Sherrie, if you
hadn't finagled your way into the bank today, no one would have ever known the
truth." "Thank-you." She paused then added, "Nancy
Drew."
Sherrie smiled as she
climbed the steps to her room once again, thinking maybe it was time to write
her own mystery novel.
You're Not Nancy Drew 2001 © Jennifer Joy Arend
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