Previously on Nancy Drew: The Final Scene: Our friend Maya’s been kidnapped! We scoured the theater high and low for her, but didn’t find her, because then we wouldn’t have a game. And we only have 48 hours left, since the theater is about to be demolished, and the kidnapper intends for Maya to go down with it — unless the demolition is somehow stopped, of course. And Sergeant Mac Ramsay is a jerk.

So welcome to Day 2! Outside, protesters are…protesting, as they do. Man, people here are really dedicated to the preservation of old theaters. There’s a more pressing matter in the lobby, though: someone has sent us a funeral wreath! “Planning a funeral is such a dreadful pain…wouldn’t you rather just stop the demolition?” Well, that’s…threatening. On the upside, a bunch of missing posters have been put up in…somewhat disturbing detail (Maya’s complexion is “part oily, part dry”, if you were wondering). And at the bottom, it says to either contact Sergeant Mac (lol, no) — or Simone Mueller, who’s made herself head of the “National Find Maya Campaign.” And the reward for information is a signed poster of Brady Armstrong. Oh, Simone, you’re so wacky.
Somewhat weirdly, it says the premiere of Vanishing Destiny has been postponed until Maya is found. Except the theater is going to be demolished, so I’m confused as to what they’re going to do there. And when was the premiere supposed to be, anyway? It’d be weird to do up the theater for a premiere the night before it’s knocked down — they could at least try to move out the furnishings and equipment and stuff to preserve them. Well, anyway. Joe promised to hold down the fort until we returned, and now we’re back, so let’s check in with him.

Joe is all indignant about the wreath (if you didn’t want us to see it, Joe, why didn’t you put it away, huh?), as well as Simone’s attempts to spin the kidnapping into publicity for Brady. It is really gross when you put it that way, actually. Nancy is wondering why the kidnapper would go through all the trouble to pay for the wreath and have it delivered, which makes me laugh for some reason — maybe the assumption that a kidnapper would be too practical for floral arrangements. Anyway, Joe tells us that the phone’s been ringing like crazy — he doesn’t know how the press picked up on the story (I do), but now they’re here and they won’t go away.
We tell him what we’ve learned about shady, shady Nicholas Falcone, but Joe tells us that Nick’s been hanging around the Palladium since he was little, and he’s just super emotionally attached — Joe doesn’t think he’s dangerous, “for gosh sakes.” Good to know. See ya, Mr. Hughes!

Nick asks us what the 411 is, and we immediately start berating him for his life choices. “You didn’t tell me kidnapping was part of Activism 101!” In fairness, Nancy, I don’t think they get to that until the upper-level courses. Nicholas doesn’t appreciate our insinuations: he would never orchestrate the temporary disappearance of someone who wasn’t in on the plan and down with the cause! He consensually kidnaps people for the greater good (the greater good!), thank you very much. “Maybe you’d better think about being ‘in with the law’ and ‘down with the truth’,” Nancy says. That is the greatest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. What a square. Nicholas calls her “Officer Nancy” (hee), and tells her that he’s on her side. #7 on the list of Things Villains Say to Throw You Off Their Trail.
Anyway, Nancy wants Nicholas to be down with the truth, now, so we start interrogating him about his criminal record. Nicholas makes it sound like they’re after him for no good reason — after all, does he look like a criminal? I don’t know, Nick, do you? Anyway, the only other dialogue option is to mention that the St. Louis Historical Society is trying to have the theater protected, but Nicholas brushes that off as being too much red tape. He prefers action to paperwork. You do you, I guess.
Technically the conversation ends there, but if you back up and click on him again, he tells you some good news: he found the number of someone who can help us — she’s not a Houdini herself, but she was married to one of Houdini’s cousins, which is close enough. He sends us off to go call her; I decided to click on him one more time just to make sure we were done talking and he says, “So what are you waiting for, the wrecking crew to bust in and dial the number for you?” Okay, grumpy! Let’s go.
Before we call her, though, remember how we were going to call the County Administration Office? Let’s do that. I don’t have the screencaps, because I thought I had done it on my cap-taking playthrough, but it turns out I hadn’t — the game doesn’t make you call the office, and so you can finish the game without it. But it’s kind of interesting — when you call looking for the original (1923) plans, as per Joe’s recommendation, the staff member on the other end will tell you that they’re gone. (Of course they are.) And naturally, nobody recalls much about the last person who asked to see them — the only information they can give us is that it’s a dude we’re after. That’s three of our four suspects, and I guess we can’t really rule out Simone in a mastermind-like capacity, so…that’s not helpful. So that happened.

Right, onto the Houdini widow. Her name is Eustacia Andropov, and she’s super cranky. (“Is this Eustacia Andropov?” “Who else would it be? Everyone else is dead.”) We ask if she’s Houdini’s cousin, as reported, and she snaps that her husband was Houdini’s cousin, and he’s dead, and Houdini is dead, too, so she’s nobody’s cousin, alright? Man, she is grouchy. I kind of love her. We ask what happened to Houdini’s half of the theater after he died — did he sign it back to J.J.? (“James Jehousephat,” as Eustacia calls him — I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.) Eustacia cracks up at that — nah, J.J. was a dick, and Houdini kept his distance from the dude. He gave his half of the theater to a young magician he knew. Eustacia tells us to call the Library of Congress, where her friend Sherman Trout works, to find out more, because she doesn’t remember anything else. She’s ninety-six years old, after all. She even gives us the number. Gosh, Eustacia, you’ve been a big help.
“Save it for my funeral.” HEE!
We might as well get right on it, so we go ahead and call Sherman Trout. He is the slowest talker ever; I’m pretty sure I managed to go make myself a cup of coffee while he said about five lines. And he sounds kind of like Louis from Message in a Haunted Mansion. Maybe they used the same voice actor — nope, I just checked, and Sherman is voiced by Scott Carty, also known as Ned and Charlie from MHM. Wow. Well, I have to congratulate him on his unrecognizable voice, although I wish he would speed it up a little. Anyway, Sherman tells us that we can register with the Library and request to look at the material in one of their reading rooms, but nope, Nancy doesn’t have time for that. She breaks the situation down for Sherman, and he finally agrees to look through Houdini’s personal documents to find information about the theater, and he’ll send us a slide copy. So, alright, mission accomplished.
Oh, and I guess we should call Nancy’s friends, too. I start with Bess and George, except it’s just Bess this time. She’s all upset that the police won’t go after Maya. Don’t the police know that Maya would never disappear on a story? I feel like she’s overestimating the fame of a 19-year-old college newspaper reporter. I mean, I’m not saying it doesn’t suck that the police are all, “Blah blah juveniles, blah blah your friend probably ran off on her own blah”, but Bess is being kind of obnoxious, all “Don’t the police know her?” Also, she sounds weirdly middle aged in this game. She’s voiced by…hey, it’s Punchy LaRue! Apparently this was her only Nancy Drew gig. I can kind of see why. Bess sounds like a soccer mom. She says she’ll let Ned and George know what’s going on, but…wait, my phone screencaps end here. I guess I didn’t call them. Well, whatever. That’s kind of in-character for Nancy, anyway. I was method playing!

So we let Nicholas know that there’s information and possible evidence on its way, and he’s super pumped by this information. “Way to go, Nancy! You’re on fire!” Whatever, Nick.

We never really got a chance to properly interrogate Simone, so let’s do that. She tells us that the premiere is canceled, which, again, seems really weird, since it’s not like they can reschedule it at this theater. Well, whatever. Just in case you thought maybe she had canceled the premiere to help the search for Maya, or anything decent like that, she starts going on about how awesome a kidnapping is for Brady’s career. The premiere is nothing next to this! When Brady finds Maya (naturally), every girl in the nation will wish she had been kidnapped instead, and everyone will think Brady is a real-life hero in addition to an on-screen one. Simone is fascinatingly lacking in ethics. Nancy calls her out on this, and Simone says, “You’ve got spunk. Ever consider acting? This Girl Power thing is red hot right now.” Hee! The early 2000s!
We can switch gears into asking about how Simone became Brady’s agent, and she tells us that she discovered him selling hot dogs on Sunset Boulevard. My grammar school’s P.E. teacher met the school principal in a similar way. And then we can ask where she was when the kidnapping happened, to which she’ll say that she was on her phone — although she has a cell phone, so that could mean anything. But we walked in on her in the dressing room, so it’s not likely that she did it. But we can try to be sly and say that Joe told us that the kidnapper must have been someone inside the theater, if you catch our drift…to which Simone says that that “little gray troll” probably did it himself, because the theater is boring. Hee!
We don’t have anything to say to that, so we skedaddle out of Simone’s room. To Brady Armstrong!

You there, Brady? No, no he is not. Let’s look through his stuff!
On the desk near the table is a self-help book that we can pick up and look through. Brady didn’t seem too happy with Simone’s management of his life when we first spoke with him, and the book confirms it: Brady is learning to be the captain of his own destiny! Or trying, anyway.

Complete with an artistic rendering.
His desk drawer is still locked. We’ll find a way in, though. Eventually.
I wandered around a bit trying to talk to Joe and Nicholas Falcone, but neither of them had any conversation options. So it’s back to Simone we go!

Simone totally owns having made the posters (“Aren’t they fabulous?”) and is thrilled that Maya is so photogenic. It’s harder to help ugly people, after all. Nancy points out that the poster is like, 70% promotion for Brady, but Simone doesn’t see her point — “Maya’s on the poster. It says she’s missing. So what’s your issue?” O…kay. We ask where Brady went, and she tells us that he’s out putting the posters up, which I guess is nice of him. But he’ll be back soon, since Simone is holding a press conference. She even moved the funeral wreath out front so all the reporters could see it! It’s nice to know she goes that extra mile.
When we’re done having this conversation with Simone, Brady returns (that was fast), so let’s go talk to him. We haven’t actually held a conversation with him since the first five minutes of the game, so let’s do that.
(By the way, if you talk to Simone between finding new bits of evidence, she’ll tell you that she’s come up with the perfect stage name — Samantha Quick. Wow. I’m kind of impressed how the games manage to throw references together even ten years down the line.)

We ask where he found Maya’s press pass, and he says it was in the basement — no, wait, the balcony. Definitely the balcony. Uh, okay. I choose to get mad at him over the poster situation, and tell him that he and Simone could set up a side business called “Missing Persons R Us.” We cut him with our razor-sharp wit! Brady tries to deflect and say that it’s not him, it’s Simone — maybe the reason you aren’t taking control of your destiny is because you can’t handle responsibility, Brady — but Nancy’s not having that. She points out that she doesn’t see Simone making him do anything, and Brady skedaddles off to his press conference because he can’t handle Nancy’s truth.
The important thing here is that everyone’s at the press conference (Brady and Simone for the publicity, Nicholas for trolling purposes, and Joe for…reasons, I guess), so the theater is basically empty. Time to go through their stuff! Let’s start with Simone.
(You can also eavesdrop on the press conference by going into the lobby. It’s about as hilarious as you’d think.)

I really like how all the characters in Nancy Drew games will leave their stuff in their bags, unattended, while they’re off doing something else. It’s like no one carries their phones with them or anything.
So first of all, you should open Simone’s desk drawer and take the bobby pin, which we will be needing. Then we can start rifling through her bag. Let’s see: there’s a digital camera, which has some delightful images of a disgruntled Brady in a chicken outfit, but more importantly, has photos of Brady finding Maya’s press pass in the basement — and then re-posing with them on the balcony. Oh, Brady, why you gotta be like this? So we know he’s a lying liar now, and he and Simone are in cahoots. Cahoots, I say!

I like how she says “nothing tacky,” like a funeral wreath for a kidnapped girl isn’t inherently tacky all on its own. God bless.
And in her wallet, we find this. Oh, Simone. So she sent the funeral wreath — but does that make her the culprit? After all, one dick move (or, er…several) does not a kidnapper make. Let’s continue searching. Her PDA isn’t too hard to get into — basically, you press the four corner numbers and then the 5 in the middle, and it unlocks. Her calendar is pretty boring, we can see Maya’s email to Brady in Simone’s inbox, and Simone has sent a very concerned email to someone about her cat, Miss Sparkles. I would totally have a cat named Miss Sparkles, I won’t lie. Anyway, that’s all for Simone’s room. Now that we have a bobby pin, we can improvise a lockpick for that drawer in Brady’s room, so let’s go do that.

I don’t know if Brady’s planning to become a stagehand or what, but he has a technician’s guide in his drawer, and it reveals how to do fun things like perform a vanishing act — like Houdini! How convenient. To perform the “Houdini Transformation”, though, you need a security code for the control board — which, also conveniently, is written right on the page (121192). The book talks about “secret rooms and tunnels” (through the mountain), because apparently there are more, not just the basement under the trapdoor backstage. Gosh, do you think Maya’s in one of those rooms? Maybe the magician’s room, under the stage?

And on our way out from backstage, someone tries to drop a light on us. What the hell, man. That’s not very nice. The creepy voice comes on the PA again: “Get smart, Nancy Drew. You’re wasting precious time. Stop the demolition or you will never see her again.” Uh oh, it’s the kidnapper. And everyone’s at the press conference, so who could it be? I wonder.
By the time we get up to the projection booth (where the control board for the Houdini trick is), it’s empty. Sigh. Well, there’s nothing to do but set up the trick to get into the magician’s room. And hey, Joe’s not here, so we can poke through his stuff, too.

Aaand it looks like Joe lied to us — he can’t open up a theater with his brother in Greasewood, because his brother is dead. Now, why would Joe lie about that? And if he doesn’t have anywhere to go after the demolition…hmmm. Hmmmm, I say.
But we can think about that later. To the secret tunnel! Secret, secret, secret, secret tunnel! Yeah!

The whole cage setup is doofily complex, and I can never do it without a walkthrough — and actually, the most annoying part is the sort of counterintuitive way that you have to walk around the cage, then step inside, then back up, then look down (or maybe it’s the other way around) in order to go through the trapdoor. Man, my sense of direction is terrible in real life; it’s even worse when I’m clicking around a screen.
Anyway, blah blah magic tricks blah. The cages use mirrors to keep the audience from detecting the trapdoors. And down we go! There’s a hallway, and halfway between the ladders is a peephole. Shall We Peep?

Nancy stares at Maya’s shoes kicking around for like a whole minute before she finally says, “Maya!” like yes, Nancy, we’ve all gotten there. And as soon as we see her, someone closes the trapdoor above us. Oh dear, this can’t end well. There’s another trapdoor in the floor, presumably leading to the room Maya’s in, and we go down the stairs only to come to a slider puzzle blocking the door. What, you don’t lock your doors with them? And worse, (Nancy voice) it’s stuck. Her body will lie in the Chamber of Secrets forever!
No, just kidding. There’s a shaky lift-type thing opposite the sliding door puzzle, and when we go up, Joe hears us yelling and comes to our rescue. He must’ve been close by, if he heard Nancy calling from under the floor.

Not one of Joe’s best angles.
We tell Joe that we’ve found the magician’s room, and he’s suitably impressed — he says in all the years he’s worked at the Palladium, he’s never found it. We tell him that we’ve found the door, but the pieces to open it are stuck, which is a kind of weird bleeding of gameplay into story — I mean, it’s sort of accepted that there are puzzles in the Nancy Drew games because there have to be, but the characters generally don’t acknowledge them, you know? When a character actually says, “Yup, the door is locked with a sliding puzzle,” it’s a weird moment. But anyway. Joe gives us…grease? or something, to unstick the pieces. It works, and the puzzle isn’t too difficult (the goal is to move the pieces along the sides so the rabbit has a clear shot across the board). We’re coming for you, Maya!

Or not. Man, this kidnapper moves fast. Also, that’s not how you spell pizzeria. Nancy freaks out (about Maya, not the misspelled pizza box), saying, “She was just here!” So we can tear the room apart looking for her, but there’s nothing except a (seemingly working) guillotine, a bunch of posters, and a book of magic tricks, one of which is how to use a pencil to shade in imprints. Anyone who’s ever read The New Adventures of Mary-Kate and Ashley will know how to do this, so let’s move on. There’s a secret door…into the basement. Seriously? We had to go through all the trouble with the cages and the getting stuck underground just to find out that there’s a door right in the basement? I’m so angry right now. Well, we know how the kidnapper got Maya out of the room, at any rate. But when we try to leave, there’s a gate blocking the basement exit — and it’s electrified! Gasp! Man, this theater takes its security seriously.
Back in the magician’s room, there’s a prop trunk that has a pair of rubber gloves in it. “Rubber is shock proof!” Nancy says. Somewhat hilariously, she’ll say this even if you pick them up before seeing the electric gate — like she’s just dropping that tidbit to herself, no big deal. Anyway, the gate has a keypad on it, and it’s just one of those press-until-you-get-them-all-in-the-right-order ones, so whatever. There’s also a note on the gate from Joe, reminding people to leave the door open, because it shuts automatically. Hmm.

And upon emerging from the trapdoor, who do we meet but Brady Armstrong? I feel like this is supposed to make us suspicious of him, but we’re like right outside his dressing room, so it’s not like he doesn’t have a reason to be hanging around here. We tell him the kidnapper just moved Maya (way to show everyone your cards, Nancy), and ask if he’s seen anyone suspicious. He says he hasn’t, and isn’t very enthusiastic about our progress. (“Wow. Evidence,” he deadpans. “Where?”) Okay, well if you’re not going to be happy for us, Brady. On the upside: we now have solid evidence that Maya was kidnapped and being held in the theater. Suck it, Sergeant Mac.

We call Sergeant Mac all, “I found Maya!” and he’s like, “Cool, case closed,” and Nancy’s like, “No, I mean I found her, then she disappeared again.” I feel like maybe Nancy should’ve said that part first. Anyway, we tell Sergeant Mac about our rock-solid, indisputable, irrefutable, undeniable evidence — we left everything where it was, so he can see for himself! I’m going to go ahead and spoil the next day for you by telling you that the one time Nancy doesn’t tamper with a crime scene, it totally bites her in the ass. Good job, Nancy. Sergeant Mac tells us that he’ll send over the first available car. (He also asks, “Are you sure you saw her?” like, no, there was someone else tied up in that room. Come on, Sergeant Mac.)
Let’s go tell the good news to Joseph! He’s been so helpful, after all.

We tell him that we’ve found Maya, and he’s like, “Cool, where is she now?” Seriously, Nancy, you gotta stop doing that. We tell him that the kidnapper moved her again, and in true Sergeant Mac style, Joe asks if maybe we just imagined we saw her. If I were to imagine a pizzeria box, I would imagine it spelled correctly, but maybe that’s because I’m Italian. We tell him about the evidence, too, and he asks if we’ve called the police. Yup, but it’s going to take them awhile before they get here, because Sergeant Mac is a flop. Joe tells us that he’ll wait for the police while we get some rest. And so, day two ends.
Up next: We find Maya! No, for real this time.


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