Part 21 (1/2)

He promised that he would look into Linda's case as soon as he had the time. Nancy thanked him and started for the door.

At that moment she saw Tombar stride out of the building by a side entrance. He had not waited for his paycheck!

”That will give him an excuse to come back here later,” she thought, and left the building.

Her next stop was her father's office. Through him she learned that Mr. Harris, instead of being a cemetery-plot salesman, was connected with a downtown real-estate firm.

”I'm afraid Tombar is doing a lot of covering up,” the lawyer stated. ”Maybe I should have him followed.”

”If he found out about it, we might never be able to prove what we suspect,” Nancy said. ”Give me a little longer, Dad. At least until you've finished the brief you're working on.”

”Well, all right,” her father agreed.

Obtaining Mr. Harris's address, Nancy went to his office. She told him quite frankly that she was a private detective and the purpose of her call was to learn of his business connection with Mr. Tombar. Still irritated by the treatment he had received, the agent willingly answered her query.

”I asked Tombar to sell the Blue Iris Inn,” he disclosed. ”Do you know the place?”

Nancy shook her head.

”It's a picturesque old inn out in the country on Woodland Road. An isolated place and in run-down condition. However, it could be converted into a topnotch dine-and-dance spot.

”I have a client who wants to develop the property. Tombar bought the place cheap and could make a neat profit on it.”

”He doesn't want to sell it?” Nancy asked.

”We offered him double what he paid for it. He won't even discuss the matter.”

”Maybe he plans to develop the place himself.”

”Tombar?” Mr. Harris smiled. ”I doubt it. He's just stubborn, that's all.”

Nancy was sure that there was more than stubbornness back of the refusal. She asked the real-estate agent for a description of the old inn. He told her it was a clapboard structure, situated about eighteen miles from River Heights.

”I'll bet,” Nancy reflected, ”that's where Tombar used to go on his lunch hour.”

Recalling the muddy tires on the man's car, she asked Mr. Harris if Woodland Road were paved.

”Not all the way. That's one of the bad features,” the agent admitted. ”My client can finance the paving, though, for the short distance that would be necessary. Since it is fast falling into ruin, Tombar would be fortunate indeed to get rid of it now.”

Nancy thanked the man for his information and said good-by.

The name Blue Iris Inn intrigued her. She would have enjoyed looking it over under any circ.u.mstances. Now, knowing its owner was Peter Tombar, she had a particular desire to see it.

As soon as she reached home she telephoned Bess Marvin. Nancy brought her up to date on what had happened and invited her to drive out to the Blue Iris Inn.

”Just the two of us? Alone?” Bess asked dubiously.

”Why, yes. Unless George can go. There's no chance of that, I suppose?”