you said yesterday, some people are intimidated by
courts and lawsuits and lawyers, so he might have felt
pressured to give in early.”
“Pressured by whom?” Nancy wondered aloud. “And
with what?” Then the waiter arrived with their food,
and Nancy and her father settled into their big
hamburgers, sharing a large plate of onion rings. Nancy
looked around her at the other lawyers and
professionals enjoying their lunches, probably talking
business, making deals, discussing cases.
After the meal, while they were having coffee and
sharing a piece of apple pie, Nancy decided to tell her
dad something about her discovery of the E-mail log
file and Henry's list of clients, and ask him what he
thought they might mean.
“Dad, when I was copying those files yesterday, I
happened to read the E-mail transmission log.
Someone in your office sent E-mail to Williams and
Brown—on the first day you got each case. And Henry
Yi has a handwritten list of all those clients, too,” she
added. “Did you speak to him about your concerns?”
“No,” her father replied. “I haven't talked about this
with anyone at the office. But it's not necessarily
suspicious that he compiled a list like that,” he
continued. “I told you, he's the computer expert
around the office. He probably was keeping track of
settled cases so we'd know what had to be cleared off
the main computer system—what you're doing now.
And as for the E-mail log file, that could have been
notification to Williams and Brown that we would be
handling the cases. It doesn't mean anyone sent them
information they might use to force a settlement.
Besides, who in my office would do such a thing?”
“Well, isn't it a little strange that all of the cases that
settled early were handled by the same law firm?”
Nancy persisted.
“Williams and Brown usually represents the in-
surance company interests, so it's not all that surprising
they're involved in all these cases,” her father replied.
“And I know Bill Williams and John Brown—they're
solid guys, with a successful law practice. They'd never
do anything like try to intimidate my clients. That's
against the law, for one thing. They could be disbarred.
And they've got a nice family firm over there—”
“I know, I know,” Nancy interrupted. “When I was
delivering those files to their office yesterday, I
overheard Williams saying to an insurance agent that
Brown's son had joined the firm when he got out of law
school. And then Brown was talking to his son in the
elevator about how proud he was of him for saving
money for their insurance company clients.”
Mr. Drew laughed. “John Brown's always talking
about that son of his. He was telling me at the
Northeast Legal Convention that John Junior was
having trouble at Walker Law. I'm sure his father's glad
he turned out to be an asset to the firm.”
“Walker Law?” Nancy asked. “Didn't Blaine Warner
go there, too?”
“Yes, but she was a superstar, number one in her
class,” her father replied. “We were lucky to get her.”
“Who knows?” Nancy shrugged. “Maybe there's
some new associate at Williams and Brown who's
hooked up with an expert computer hacker and figured
out a way to hack into our computer system and steal
passwords and E-mail out sensitive files and—”
Mr. Drew laughed. “I think you've got mystery on
the brain, my girl. That sounds far too complicated to
me. And I don't think anyone here in my office would
be involved in anything underhanded, or send out
privileged information via E-mail or any other means.”
Nancy had her own suspicions about the people in
her father's office, but decided not to tell him until she
had more proof.
Nancy settled back in her booth, and picked up her
coffee. Her eyes drifted past her father's shoulder—
she had been concentrating on him during their
conversation—and she nearly fell out of her seat.
There was Henry Yi grinning at her from the next
booth!
8. Scared Away
“Henry,” Nancy squeaked, startling her father.
“My name's not Henry,” Mr. Drew said, smiling at
around to look behind him. “Oh, hi, Henry; hi, Blaine.
You were right, Nancy. This is the lawyers' hot spot.”
“Hi, Carson,” Blaine said warmly. “Hi, Nancy. I
decided I was being too hard on everyone, so I offered
to take Henry out to lunch.”
“And I, of course, graciously—and hungrily—
accepted,” Henry said, wiping his mouth.
Nancy sat absolutely silent, stunned that both Blaine
and Henry might have overheard some or all of the
conversation with her father. “Hi, guys,” she said
weakly. “I guess this is what they mean when they say
you never get out of the office. The office comes with
you.”
“Especially you,” Blaine said, talking to Nancy but
gazing at Carson Drew. “You live with the boss.” She
pulled out an envelope of cash to pay the check.
“So, you got to the bank after all,” Nancy said. She
looked at the thick wad of bills.
“Oh, um, yes, I went after work last night,” Blaine
said, hastily stuffing the envelope back in her purse.
Nancy's father paid for their lunch, and the
foursome picked up their coats and bags, preparing to
leave the restaurant.
“Blaine's taking me to court this afternoon,” Henry
said to Nancy, “so you should have the library to
yourself, unless Byron shows up to keep you company.”
“I've got a lot of work to keep me busy,” she replied.
Back at the office, Carson Drew went into his
private office, and Nancy returned to the law library to
continue her chores. While she performed the routine
tasks, her mind was occupied with questions about the
case.
How could Williams & Brown scare her father's
clients? They would open themselves up to disbarment
if they interfered with another lawyer's client. Besides,
Nancy mused, they had to have a contact inside her
dad's office—and I know it's not Ms. Hanson, even if
her name is on the E-mail.
Checking the door to be sure it was closed and she
was alone, Nancy called up the file for Jeannette King.
After looking for her phone number at the bank, she
dialed.
“River Heights Savings and Loan,” a woman's voice
said.
“Hello, this is Nancy Drew. May I please speak with
Jeannette King?” she said.
“Certainly. May I say what this is in reference to?”
the woman asked.
“It's regarding a confidential legal matter,” Nancy
replied.
There was a pause, and then another woman came
on the line. “This is Jeannette King,” she said
cautiously. “How may I help you?”
“Ms. King, this is Nancy Drew, Carson Drew's
daughter. I'm just following up on some of his recent
cases, and I wanted to ask you why you settled your
case so quickly.”
“I'm sorry, Ms. Drew, or whoever you are, I don't
discuss legal matters over the phone,” Ms. King replied
quickly, and hung up.
Okay. I understand her desire for privacy, Nancy
thought. Then she dialed the number for James Fox's
political office.
“James Fox for Mayor,” answered a bright male
voice.
“Hello, this is Nancy Drew. May I please speak with
Mr. Fox?”
“What is this regarding?” the man asked.
“A recent legal case Mr. Fox decided not to pursue,”
Nancy replied, reading through his file.
“Hold one moment, please,” the man said. Nancy
waited, and then he came back on the line. “I'm sorry,
the candidate is unavailable at this time. Thank you for
calling.” The line went dead.
That's two, thought Nancy. She dialed the number
for Harriet Wasser.
“Wasser Real Estate,” a female voice answered the
phone.
“Hello, I'd like to speak with Harriet Wasser,
please,” Nancy said politely.
“I'm calling from Carson Drew's office,” Nancy
replied. She could hear voices in the background.
“Harriet, it's someone from that lawyer's office,” the
woman's voice called out in a muffled tone. Nancy
couldn't hear the words of the angry reply. Then the
woman spoke into the telephone. “I'm sorry, Ms.
Wasser doesn't have any dealings with Mr. Drew's firm
at this time.” And she hung up.
Oh boy, thought Nancy. This was going to be hard.
She called up the file on Bob Jamison, and dialed his
phone number.
“Jamison Construction,” a pleasant voice answered
the phone.
“Hello, I'd like to speak with Bob Jamison, please,”
she said.
“May I ask what this in reference to?” the voice
asked politely.
“I'm calling from Carson Drew's office,” she said.
“Hold one moment,” the voice said quickly.
An angry man picked up the phone. “Who is this?”
he asked.
“Mr. Jamison?” Nancy said. “This is Nancy Drew,
Carson Drew's daughter. I'm just following up on some
recent cases here in the office and—”
“Look, Ms. Drew, I told your father I wanted to
settle this case right away, and that's all I have to say. I
don't know what's going on over there, but I won't be
dealing with your firm again.”
“Mr. Jamison, there must be some misunder-
standing. You've had a long professional history with
my father, and I'm sure—”
“I'm sure it won't go on, not when I get threatening
phone calls whispering about private information from
prior cases in your office. Yesterday I was just scared,
but today I'm mad. You'd better not call me back,
unless you want a new lawsuit on your hands. There
are other lawyers in this town, you know.” He slammed
the phone down.
Nancy sat back, stunned. Someone had been
threatening her father's clients with information from
his old case files. But who? And why?
Nancy decided to look through Carson Drew's
personnel files for more background on the suspects.
She accessed the administrative directory. She knew
Ms. Hanson scanned in job applicants' résumés, as well
as any notes from interviews held with prospective
lawyers, paralegals, and interns. Nancy scrolled
through the long list of files, searching for background
information on Henry Yi, Blaine Warner, and Byron
Thomas.
After a moment Nancy came upon Byron Thomas's
résumé. He had graduated from Marks University with
a degree in English literature, and was a student at
Barnes Law School. She could see from his
employment history that he had taken a year off to earn
money for his law school tuition, as he had said.
Next, Nancy found Henry Yi's résumé. He had
attended Taft College and taken a specialized course
after graduation to become a paralegal. “I guess he
must be pretty smart, or my dad wouldn't have hired
him,” Nancy murmured. “But his résumé's all over the
place. It seems as if he didn't—or doesn't—know what
he wants to do.” In college, Henry studied
mathematics,
computer
programming,
political
science, English literature, molecular biology and
biophysics, and philosophy.
Finally Nancy called up Blaine Warner's impressive
résumé. Blaine had attended Walker Law, a very
prestigious school, where she had been the first female
editor of the Law Review. She had won many victories
in mock court proceedings, and she had graduated with
a perfect grade-point average.
Blaine also had held summer intern positions at
some large law offices in the city, but Nancy didn't see
any connection to Williams & Brown. “Other than John
Brown Junior's going to Walker Law,” Nancy said
softly. “But it's a big school. They might not even have
known each other.”
The library door opened, and Nancy quickly
returned to the section on the closed cases. Byron
Thomas entered, head down, carrying a stack of books
and papers. He nodded hello to Nancy and set up at
one of the other computer stations.
As they both tapped away at their keyboards, Nancy
heard the telltale whine of a modem dialing another
computer on the telephone line. She looked up and
saw Byron staring back at her. He quickly turned away,
then said, “I have to go online to use the Lexis-Nexis
legal database.”
“Oh, I've heard of that,” Nancy said. “All law
students and lawyers use that for research, right?”
“Yeah,” Byron mumbled. He looked at the crumpled
papers on his desk and typed away.
“Byron, let me ask you something,” Nancy said. “Do
you know if the Internet's all connected? When you go
on the World Wide Web or use Lexis-Nexis or just
send E-mail—are they separate, or are they all linked
together?”
“The Internet is one big network of networks,”
Byron said, still typing.
“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.
Byron paused in his entry and looked up at her.
“Well, big organizations have their own computer
networks—lots of computers linked together. And each
computer in the network has a unique ID number. You
can tell what kind of organization a computer is in by
the last part of its Internet address—”
“Is that an IP address?” Nancy asked, remembering
the term Bess had used.
“That's
right,” Byron said. “IP stands for Internet
Protocol. So, as I was saying, the last part of that name
tells you what kind of organization the computer
belongs to. For instance, educational institutions, like
schools and universities, all end in edu.' Government
offices, like NASA or the White House, end in gov.'
Military groups, like the navy or the air force, end in
mil.' And commercial companies, like television
networks or computer manufacturers, end in com.' ”
“Thanks,” Nancy said with a smile. “This is
interesting. Then all these networks are linked
together, and that makes up the Internet?”
“That's how I understand it,” Byron answered.
“There are other sub-networks that use other com-
munications protocols. There's UUCP, for Unix-to-
Unix Copy Program, and USENET, where the
newsgroups are stored, and BITNET, which believe it
or not, stands for Because It's Time.'
“I think there are also separate networks for banks
and private bulletin boards. But they all have to use the
phone lines, so I guess they could be connected in
some way. You should ask Henry. He's the computer
whiz around here.”
“You sound like an expert as far as I'm concerned,”
Nancy said. “Where'd you learn all that stuff about the
Internet anyway?”
“Oh, you know, they teach you how to navigate the
Net in law school, so you can do legal research on-line,
download articles, things like that. You really can find
out almost anything over the Internet,” he continued.
“There's an amazing amount of information available, if
you know how to access it. But I'm no expert, really,”
he concluded.
“Well, you sure seem to know a lot,” Nancy said,
rising and stretching her legs. “Mind if I look in? I've
heard Lexis-Nexis can be really interesting.”
As she began to walk toward Byron's machine, he
almost jumped out of his chair, and abruptly switched
off the computer. Nancy looked at him with alarm.
“Don't you know you should log off before you turn
off the computer?” Nancy asked. “Otherwise you can
lose data. Look, I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just
thought—”
Byron mumbled an excuse, grabbed his papers,
popped a floppy disk out of the drive, and rushed out
of the library. What's he hiding? Nancy wondered.
Nancy shook her head and sat back down at her
computer station. She continued making copies of the