Read En Garde (Nancy Drew (All New) Girl Detective Book 17) for Free Online Page B

me. This was one of those times. Without a second thought, I walked around the wall of the inner cubicle and faced Bela Kovacs.
    The Hungarian was slumped over his desk, head burrowed in his folded arms. Hearing my footsteps, he lifted his head just enough to snarl, “Go away, Damon. You have your orders.”
    “It isn’t Damon, Mr. Kovacs,” I said.
    He looked up slowly. “So who is it? Another student wishing to defect? Come to torment me, on the worst day of my life?”
    “My name is Nancy Drew,” I said firmly. “I’m a friend of George Fayne’s.”
    Kovacs snorted. “So?”
    “So—I happen to have done a little detective work. Just a little, here and there. And I couldn’t help hearing that you suspect one of your colleagues has been acting unethically. A certain . . . Paul Mourbiers?”
    Kovacs froze. “This is possible,” he said in a guarded voice.
    “I was at the fencing meet yesterday,” I told him. “I was watching DeLyn’s bout against Una Merrick.”
    Kovacs stiffened. “And you saw Paul hand her the unstitched gauntlet?” he guessed hopefully.
    I shook my head. “No. I wasn’t close enough to see the condition of the gauntlet. But I did see how upset DeLyn was when Una got scratched. I can’t believe that she would have hurt her opponent on purpose.”
    Kovacs pursed his lips grimly. “How does this help me, Miss Detective?”
    Steeling myself against his rudeness, I said, “We may never know how that gauntlet came open, or when. But maybe we can find out whether Mourbiers set up the interview with the TV reporter. After all, the real problem for you is the publicity. If Mourbiers tricked you into having that fight, knowing it would be covered on TV . . .”
    I saw a spark of understanding light up Kovacs’s eyes. “You mean he knew they were going to be there?”
    “I don’t know anything,” I said quickly. “But with your permission, I’d like to investigate the possibility.”
    Kovacs’s eyes narrowed. “You want me to pay you to snoop around.”
    “I never work for money,” I hastened to assure him.
    Kovacs relaxed. “That’s good—because I have no money.” Then another thought struck him. “But maybe it is no good to stir up trouble. Our sport is an ancient and noble one. This is not tacky show biz, like”—here his lip curled in scorn—“ professional wrestling .”
    Seeing me grin, he smiled too. “You may laugh, Miss Detective, but you know what I mean. We fencers have our pride. We have our sense of honor. To make a scandal—it might clear my name, but it would not be good for fencing. And I will do nothing to make fencing look ugly.”
    “I promise you, I will be discreet,” I said. “Whatever information I pick up, I will bring to you, not to the newspapers or to the police. Then you can do with it whatever you feel is right.”
    Kovacs was actually pleasant looking when he smiled. “I am glad you have come to me, Miss Detective. Miss Nancy Drew. Now I change my mind—perhaps this is not the worst day of my life after all.”
    “Well, Nancy,” said Mr. Nickerson as he climbed into my car later that day, “what sort of trouble are you getting me into now?”
    I grinned at Ned’s dad. He’s a great guy—smart and thoughtful. But he’s also the most experiencedjournalist I know. And for this investigation, he was just the man to help me.
    “Who do you know in the news department at the TV station?” I asked.
    Mr. Nickerson shrugged. “Lots of people. I know the news director, Dave Markus, pretty well. I don’t know too many of the reporters. Some of them think I’m their competition, just because I run the River Heights Bugle .”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “Not really. Broadcast journalism and print journalism have very different goals. Broadcasters have to entertain their viewers. We newspaper folks are simply committed to informing our readers.”
    “Even so,” I said, “TV reporters ought to be accurate and fair,