Fashion Accusation

But who? And why would anyone play such a mean trick on me? Nancy wondered.

When Mr. Drew heard about the events at the fashion show, he sounded even grimmer. “It seems to me that someone thinks you’re getting too close for comfort.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Dad, but I don’t feel very close to anything.”

“Maybe you just can’t see the forest for the trees, ” the lawyer said. “And before you get lost in the wilderness, I want you to promise to call me every day! ”

“I will, Dad. And I won’t get lost. You’ll see.”

His deep, reassuring voice was enough to bolster Nancy’s confidence. “We have a lot to do, ” she told her friends. “I’ve been thinking about my conversation with Jacqueline this morning.”

“And? ” George prompted.

“And I wonder if she has passed information along to the fashion thief who figured he’d keep me from going to Reese Associates today.”

“You think Jacqueline is an accomplice in some way? ” Bess asked in disbelief.

“No, but she could be an innocent conduit.”

Her listeners pondered the idea for a moment.

“She and Chris are the only people who know you’re trying to help Mr. Reese, ” George said.

“Also, it was only moments after I talked to her that the telegram came, ” Nancy added.

“Maybe we ought to talk to her again, ” George suggested.

“She’s probably working now, ” Bess said. “A model who’s as popular as Jacqueline would be in great demand.”

“I’d like to visit Mr. Reese first, anyway, ” Nancy stated. “I don’t want to give away my schedule again—”

“Especially to a thief! ” Bess interrupted.

When the girls arrived at the designer’s office, Nancy was pleased to learn that he had returned from the business trip he had been on the day before, and was out doing some investigating on his own!

“Did he leave a message for me? ” she asked the receptionist, whose long, polished fingernails sifted through a basket of papers on her desk. “I’m afraid I don’t see anything marked for Nancy Drew, ” she said, lifting her head in a smile. “Perhaps you ought to speak with Mr. Reese directly. He’s at Zanzibar’s.”

The name didn’t sound familiar to the girls.

“It’s a photographic studio, ” the receptionist went on. “They do a lot of catalog work for major department stores.”

“Okay, ” Nancy said. “If by any chance Mr. Reese should return before we get there, will you tell him I’m looking for him? ”

“Will do.”

The receptionist jotted down the address of the studio, which was located in the heart of the garment district. The buildings were gray and, apart from a sign that said Zanzibar‘s, the young detectives might have passed by without realizing what it was. The entrance was small, too. There were a few color advertisements from old store catalogs that hung on the wall, but no evidence of what lay beyond.

Nancy led the way to a desk at the end of the hall, where a stubby woman was seated. She greeted the visitors pleasantly, but when Nancy mentioned the name Reese, the woman stiffened.

“He is talking with one of our photographers, ” she said, “and I’m sure they don’t wish to be disturbed.”

“But Nancy is trying to help him investigate the thefts from the hotel last night, ” Bess blurted out.

The woman stared at Nancy. “You hardly look like a detective, ” she said, as shouting voices broke through a far door.

Nancy recognized Mr. Reese’s instantly. She strode past the receptionist with Bess and George close at her heels.

“You can’t go in there! ” the stubby woman cried, but the girls had already opened the door.

“My models are getting paid plenty by the hour, ” the photographer was barking at Mr. Reese, “and you’re taking both my time and theirs! ”

A young brunette, who was standing in front of a long sheet of seamless blue paper, moved out of the strong light that poured over her.

“It’s getting too hot for me, ” the detectives overheard her remark. The men, however, had missed the comment.

“I am going to have you arrested, Mr. Vinton! ” the fashion designer yelled.

“Fine! Go ahead! ”

“Oh, Nancy, let’s get out of here, ” Bess whispered.

“And that includes your assistant! ” Reese was pointing a threatening finger at a woman in slacks and a smock who was standing near the model. He charged angrily toward her. “What’s your name? ” he growled, pushing aside one of the tall lights.

It teetered, then crashed to the floor in splinters of glass!

“Oh! ” the woman cried as a chunk slid close to her foot. “You’re a madman! That’s what you are! ”

Reese boiled at the remark. “You haven’t seen anything yet! ” he fired at her, shoving the young model out of the way and tearing the paper off a metal bar.

“Mr. Reese! Please, Mr. Reese! ” Nancy called from the doorway.

But the man paid no attention. His face and neck were a blaze of red as he turned back to the photographer, who grabbed him firmly by the shoulders.

“I am going to throw you out personally! ” Vinton roared.

“Stop him, somebody! ” Bess trembled as Reese swung a fist at the man, just missing him.

By now the noise had traveled through the whole studio, where, behind several closed doors, other photo sessions were being conducted. One after another, people infiltrated Mr. Vinton’s room and, at last, two men tackled Reese before he could land another swing.

“I’ll send you a bill for this mess! ” Mr. Vinton rasped loudly.

“And I’ll see to it that you pay for every dress you filched! ” the designer snapped, as Nancy stepped closer to interrupt.

“Mr. Reese, ” she said firmly, catching his attention at last.

“What do you want? ” he grumbled.

“You should be careful about making accusations you can’t back up.”

Now the man laughed hard. He flexed his arms, seeking to be free of the tightening hold.

“That’s very funny. Are you a lawyer, too? ”

Nancy took a deep breath and Bess and George pulled behind her.

“No, I’m not a lawyer, ” the girl replied calmly. “But I do know that you can get into an awful lot of trouble if you can’t support your charges.”

“Well, I can support them, ” he snarled. “These men are nothing more than cheap crooks, and if I ever find out who commissioned them to photograph my clothes, I will sue them! ”

The girls wondered if Zanzibar’s had, in fact, photographed the copies of Mr. Reese’s original designs that had appeared in the Millington catalog. Nancy noticed the torn page of one sticking out of his coat pocket.

“Is that from the Millington book? ” she asked.

“No. This is from the Chalmers catalog, ” the designer replied, referring to an expensive department store.

He whipped out the page and waved it under Nancy’s nose, his hand still trembling in rage. “Here, look for yourself. See these two gowns? High-priced merchandise, wouldn’t you say? Not at all like the stuff Millington manufactures. But they’re my designs, too! ”

“What makes you think the photographer had something to do with the theft? ” Nancy inquired.

“Because he wouldn’t tell me who gave him the assignment! He’s covering up for someone, I’m sure of it! ”