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gone with him, so Mrs. Tagley was now frantically trying to put together an activity for the horrified guests.
    Nancy, Bess, and George were still in the living room. A police car had arrived, and a gangling young officer named Steve Ullman was taking statements from the guests.
    â€œYou know, Nancy’s a detective. She’s incredible,” Bess said proudly when it was her turn to be questioned. “You should let her work with you on this case.”
    Officer Ullman smiled politely. “We don’t know if it’s a case yet,” he said, flipping to a new page of his notebook. “But, of course, I’d be grateful for any help any of you can give me.”
    â€œYou should know about a couple of strangethings that happened earlier.” Nancy told him about the “accidents” that had taken place that day and about her suspicion that Brock was poisoned. “His attack came right after he’d eaten the first piece of chocolate.”
    â€œSeems hard to believe it could work so fast without killing him,” Officer Ullman mused. He was eyeing Nancy with more respect now. “I’m not a poison expert, but I’ll definitely take those chocolates back to the lab. You say you found the jar of ants hidden in the kitchen? Do you think any of the kitchen staff could be responsible?”
    â€œIt’s hard to think of a motive, but I can check it out for you,” Nancy replied.
    â€œI may be back myself, depending on what the lab boys turn up,” said Officer Ullman. “In the meantime, let me know if you find anything.”
    Unfortunately, most of the staff had left for the evening by the time Nancy and her friends reached the kitchen. The lone waitress putting away some leftover chocolate-raspberry mousse torte had nothing to add to what the girls had seen for themselves.
    â€œWe’ll have to try again tomorrow,” Nancy said, pushing through the kitchen doors into the deserted dining room. “Let’s go up to the suite. I’d like to go over what we know so far”—she frowned—“which isn’t much.”
    â€œOh, let’s not go back up yet,” said George. “Couldn’t we find some other room where we could talk in private? Our suite’s so small it makes me feel claustrophobic.”
    â€œFine with me,” said Nancy. “But nothing onthe first floor where anyone could interrupt us or listen in.”
    They settled on a small lounge in the basement that smelled as if it was a smoking room, probably for the staff.
    â€œWell, Nan,” George said, settling into a battered armchair. “It looks as though you have another case on your hands.”
    Nancy and Bess sat down on a couch covered with an Indian-print spread. “Whoever put the ants on that cake and tampered with the chocolate scale may have been playing a prank. But poisoning’s no joke. Someone’s definitely out to get Brock.”
    â€œBut who would want to hurt him?” Bess asked. “I mean, an actor might have enemies, but you’d expect them to be—oh, I don’t know, rivals for acting parts or something. Who would try to attack an actor at a chocolate festival?”
    Three names popped into Nancy’s head immediately. “Tim might,” she said. “He’s obviously jealous of Brock. And, maybe, Mrs. Tagley. She made the chocolates, so she had a perfect opportunity to poison them. I’m not sure what her motive would be, but I get the feeling that she’s not crazy about Brock. I also don’t trust Dan Avery. I have no idea what he’s up to, but I did overhear him say he’d get Brock. Other than those three, I—”
    Thwack! Thwack!
    â€œWhat’s that?” Bess asked. Nancy was the first to get up and walk to the doorway and out intothe hall. A light was on in an adjoining room. A pool table stood in the middle of the room, and board games were scattered on card