The Mystery in New York

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  “Mr. Evans!” gasped Violet.

  Had he heard them? He didn’t seem to have. He smiled. “Hello again,” he said. To Mrs. Teague, who was holding the door for him, he said, “Silly of me to have forgotten my tools like that. Well, see you tomorrow.”

  “You will be finished tomorrow, won’t you?” asked Mrs. Teague.

  “Oh, yes,” said Mr. Evans. “Don’t worry.”

  He nodded pleasantly at the Aldens and walked down the hall toward the elevator.

  “What’s Mr. Evans doing here?” asked Henry.

  “He came back. He forgot some of his tools,” said Mrs. Teague.

  The Aldens exchanged glances. Was that the reason Mr. Evans had come back? Or was it only an excuse so that he could sneak upstairs and lock them in the secret room?

  Shortly after dinner, they heard a knock at the door.

  Mrs. Teague opened it and said in a surprised voice, “Edgar Pound. Come in.”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” said Mr. Pound. “I came to see if our young detectives had any luck finding new clues in the apartment this afternoon.”

  He smiled at the Aldens.

  “No luck yet,” said Jessie.

  “Oh,” said Mr. Pound. “Too bad.” But he didn’t sound very sorry.

  “Have the police had any luck?” asked Henry.

  “No. Not yet,” said Mr. Pound. “I’m beginning to think the Elizabeth Star is gone forever.” He took out his handkerchief and mopped his forehead.

  “Sit down and join us for a cup of tea,” said Mrs. Teague.

  “Thank you. I think I will,” said Mr. Pound. He started toward the dining room.

  “Why don’t we sit in the living room,” suggested Mrs. Teague. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

  After they had finished their tea, Mr. Pound stood up. Holding his teacup in his hand, he began to walk through the dining room to the kitchen.

  “I’ll take your cup for you, Mr. Pound,” offered Henry.

  “Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” said Mr. Pound, holding on to the cup.

  “But —”

  Mr. Pound ignored Henry. He marched into the kitchen and put the cup down. Henry went back to help gather up the rest of the cups and saucers.

  He reached the dining room to find Mr. Pound holding one of the dining room chairs, which he pulled out from the table.

  “Mr. Pound?” said Henry.

  “Oh!” Mr. Pound jumped. “I just thought I’d sit down for a moment.” He sat down.

  “Are you all right, Edgar?” asked Mrs. Teague, bustling into the dining room.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Just go on and do what you were doing,” insisted Mr. Pound.

  The Aldens cleared away the dishes, walking back and forth as Mr. Pound sat in the dining room chair.

  When Benny had finished helping, he sat down in a dining room chair across from Mr. Pound.

  “What are you doing, Benny?” asked Violet.

  “Keeping Mr. Pound company so he doesn’t get lonely,” said Benny.

  “You don’t need to do that, Benny,” said Mr. Pound.

  “It’s okay,” said Benny.

  Mr. Pound stood up. “Well, I’d better be going,” he said. “Thank you for the tea.”

  When he had left, Mrs. Teague shook her head. “Poor Edgar. I’m afraid the loss of the diamond has upset him. He’s not himself. In fact, I think he looks worse tonight than on the evening of the theft.”

  “He was acting kind of weird,” said Henry.

  “Well, we’ll find the diamond and then he’ll feel better,” said Benny.

  “I hope you’re right, Benny,” said Jessie. “I hope you’re right.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The Chase

  The next morning, Jessie leaned on the railing of the balcony and peered down. People scurried by on the street below. She sighed. “Too many people,” she muttered.

  “Too many people? In New York?” teased Henry, who was sitting in a chair nearby. At the small table, Violet was reading the newspaper to Benny.

  “Read it again,” said Benny. “About the diamond.”

  “It just says there are no new clues, Benny,” Violet said.

  “And too many suspects,” said Jessie. “That’s what I meant.”

  Violet and Benny looked up. “Too many?”

  “Lydia, Mr. Evans, Mr. Saunders, Mr. Leed,” said Jessie. “Or Lydia and Mr. Saunders working together, or Lydia and Mr. Evans, or Mr. Evans and Mr. Saunders.”

  “That’s a lot of possibilities,” agreed Henry.

  “Seven,” said Benny, who’d been counting on his fingers. “And Mr. Pound. Eight.”

  “Okay. And Mr. Pound,” said Jessie. “Maybe he did have something to do with it.”

  “Eight,” said Benny. “And Mr. Pound and Lydia. And Mr. Pound and Mr. Evans. And Mr. Pound and Mr. Saunders. Eleven ways the diamond could have been taken in all.”

  At that moment, the phone rang. It was Mr. Leed, saying that Mr. Evans was on his way up to the apartment.

  “You’re early today,” said Mrs. Teague when she let Mr. Evans in.

  “I woke up early,” said Mr. Evans. “And I believe an electrician should go with the current. That’s a joke.”

  Mrs. Teague smiled.

  “Anyway, I’ve got work to do,” said Mr. Evans.

  “We have work to do, too,” said Henry.

  “Are you going to look for clues to the mystery of the missing diamond?” asked Grandfather.

  Mr. Evans looked up. “I saw a picture of it in the newspaper. Nice-looking little gem. Gave me a real charge. That’s a joke.”

  “Oh,” said Jessie. She looked at her watch. “Well, we’d better go.”

  Quickly the Aldens helped clear away the breakfast dishes and clean up. Then they hurried out the door.

  They reached the sidewalk in front of the building just in time to see Lydia Critt hurrying down the street. She was wearing jeans and a green sweatshirt that said CRITT’S CRITTERS, and was carrying a very large backpack.

  “Come on!” said Jessie. They raced after Lydia.

  Today, Lydia walked into one of the big hotels at the bottom of the park. The Aldens followed her in. People with suitcases and briefcases filled the lobby. The children saw Lydia vanish down a hallway. But when they reached the hallway, she was gone.

  “She must have gone into the bathroom,” said Jessie.

  “There’s no door at the end of the hall,” said Henry. “She’ll have to come back out the way she came in. We’ll wait in the lobby.”

  The Aldens found the perfect seat, on a small sofa in the corner behind a potted plant. They took turns peering out between its leaves.

  Lydia was gone for a long time. When she came back out into the lobby, they saw why. They almost didn’t recognize her.

  She had completely changed clothes. She was wearing a dress, high heels, a big hat with a flower on it, and she had on gloves. The only thing that was the same was the backpack she was carrying. Earrings flashed at her earlobes, and Violet gave a little gasp when she saw the twinkle of light at Lydia’s throat.

  “The diamond?” she gasped.

  “No,” Henry whispered. “It’s the crystal she always wears.”

  “Why did she change clothes?” Jessie wanted to know. “Do you think she knew we were following her and is trying to throw us off?”

  “Maybe,” said Henry.

  “We’ll have to be extra careful now,” said Benny.

  This time, when they followed Lydia out onto the street, they crossed to the other side.

  And this time, Lydia kept stopping to look back. Every time she did, the Aldens pretended to be shopping, staring into the store windows.

  “She does know we’re following her,” said Violet.

  Suddenly Lydia threw up her hand and jumped out into the street. A yellow car swerved toward her.

  Violet clamped her hands over her eyes.

  “Oh, no!” cried Jessie, springing
forward. “That car is going to hit Lydia!”

  But it didn’t. It screeched to a stop right beside her and the Aldens realized that the yellow car was a taxicab.

  As the door of the cab slammed, Jessie jumped to the curb and threw up her hand.

  “Jessie! What are you doing?” asked Henry.

  Another yellow cab screeched to the curb and stopped.

  “Get in!” Jessie panted. Then she leaned forward and said to the driver, “Follow that cab!”

  They sped through the streets of Manhattan so quickly that the stores and people lining the sidewalks blurred as they went by. Then the cab turned and turned again. Now the streets were lined with theaters.

  “Times Square,” said Henry. “Broadway and the Theater District.”

  Ahead of them, Lydia’s cab pulled to the curb.

  “Stop here,” Jessie said. “At the corner.”

  Quickly they paid the driver and got out just as Lydia hurried across the sidewalk. She stopped at a door and touched the crystal at her throat.

  “For luck,” whispered Violet almost to herself.

  Then Lydia took a deep breath, opened the door, and disappeared inside.

  The Aldens raced up to the door and stopped.

  Then Henry read the sign posted on the door. “‘Auditions today for Diamonds and Hearts. A new mystery about stolen jewels … and love.’”

  Then Henry began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Benny said.

  “She isn’t a thief,” said Henry, laughing harder. “She’s an actress!”

  Now Violet was smiling. “That’s why she put on those funny clothes, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Why?” asked Benny.

  “Of course! Because she was going to an audition,” said Jessie.

  “What’s an audition?” asked Benny. By now he was very confused.

  “You remember when we were in that play, Benny. An audition is when you try out for a part in a show,” explained Violet.

  “Oh. So she wasn’t in disguise. She was dressed up for the play,” said Benny.

  “Right, Benny,” said Henry.

  “And that’s why she was in Tiffany’s!” Jessie exclaimed suddenly. “What better place to do research about a play called Diamonds and Hearts? She was studying the way the other people were dressed in Tiffany’s, too. That’s how she is dressed today — like some of those people at Tiffany’s.”

  “With her crystal necklace for a diamond,” said Benny.

  “You’re right,” said Henry.

  “Does that mean she’s not the thief?” asked Benny. He sounded a little relieved.

  “Well, she could still be a thief,” said Jessie. “But somehow, I don’t think so. I think she’s too busy to be a thief!”

  Henry had managed to stop laughing. “Well, we might as well walk back to Mrs. Teague’s,” he said.

  As they walked back uptown, they talked about the mystery.

  “I’m glad it’s not Lydia,” said Benny. “I like her. And so does Watch. Because she likes dogs.”

  “Me, too,” admitted Jessie.

  “But if it isn’t Lydia, who is it?” asked Violet.

  “Maybe Mr. Pound did it,” said Benny suddenly. “Maybe he’s just pretending the diamond is stolen.”

  “Maybe, Benny,” said Henry. “But remember, he’d have to know an awful lot about alarm systems.”

  “That’s true,” said Benny.

  Violet said, “What about Mr. Saunders, the doorman? He could have let someone in without making them sign in.”

  “That’s true, too,” agreed Jessie. “I definitely think we should keep Mr. Saunders as a suspect.”

  “Don’t forget Mr. Evans,” said Henry.

  “Why Mr. Evans?” asked Violet.

  “Because he’s an electrician. He could probably figure out how to tamper with an alarm so that no one could tell,” said Henry.

  “Do you think he broke into Mr. Pound’s apartment and took the diamond?” asked Benny.

  “But the lock on the door of Mr. Pound’s apartment hadn’t been broken,” objected Henry. “The police said so.”

  “Maybe we should ask Lydia,” said Benny.

  “Ask Lydia what?” said Jessie, puzzled.

  “About diamonds,” said Benny. “She’s in a play about stolen diamonds. And she has a lucky diamond necklace.… I mean, a crystal necklace.”

  Jessie stared at Benny. And then her mouth dropped open. “That’s it, Benny! That’s it!”

  CHAPTER 9

  No Joke

  “What?” said Benny.

  “Remember what you said, Benny?” said Jessie. “About Lydia’s crystal necklace?”

  “The one like a diamond?” asked Benny.

  “Yes!” cried Jessie. “The crystal that Lydia wears for luck is like a diamond. Think, Benny. Where else have we seen crystals like diamonds? Lots of them.”

  Benny frowned.

  Violet gasped. “The chandelier!”

  Henry said, “You’re right. Mrs. Teague’s chandelier. But what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Because I think the Elizabeth Star is hidden there. And all we have to do to catch the thief is find out who hid it,” said Jessie.

  “In the chandelier?” asked Benny. “The diamond is hidden in the chandelier?”

  “Yes,” said Jessie.

  “Let’s go!” cried Henry.

  They raced back to Mrs. Teague’s apartment and ran past Mr. Leed.

  “Where’s the fire?” asked Mr. Leed, startled, as they ran by.

  “No fire,” Henry managed to say. “Diamonds.”

  The elevator seemed to take forever to get down to the lobby. Suddenly Henry pointed at the stairs. “Come on. That’ll be faster,” he said.

  They began to run up the long flights of stairs. By the time they reached the ninth floor, they were all gasping for breath. As they burst into the hall, they heard the elevator doors closing.

  But they didn’t stop. They ran to Mrs. Teague’s apartment.

  Jessie led the way into the dining room. She pulled out a chair and jumped up on it. “It’s not there,” she said.

  “Jessie? What’s wrong?” asked Mrs. Teague, coming out of her study down the hall.

  Then she said, “Doesn’t the chandelier look nice? Mr. Evans noticed how dusty it had gotten and gave it a good cleaning.”

  “Mr. Evans? Where is he?” Violet looked around wildly.

  “He just this second left. I’m surprised you didn’t see him in the hall,” began Mrs. Teague.

  “The elevator!” exclaimed Henry.

  Jessie jumped from the chair and, without waiting to give Mrs. Teague an explanation, the children raced out of the apartment.

  This time they ran down the stairs so fast that Benny felt dizzy.

  “Mr. Evans!” cried Jessie as they burst into the lobby. “Where is he?”

  “He just left,” said Mr. Leed.

  “Which way did he go?” asked Henry.

  “Turned left. He might have parked his truck around the corner. You can’t park out front, you know. That’s for taxis and —”

  They didn’t wait to hear the rest. They raced out of the building and down the sidewalk. Feet pounding the cement, they ran around the corner.

  “There!” Jessie pointed.

  A blue truck with the words EVANS’ ELECTRIC painted on the side was parked just up ahead and Mr. Evans was walking toward it with his car keys in his hand.

  Henry didn’t hesitate. He ran and jumped right in front of the driver’s-side door. Violet, Benny, and Jessie ran and stood behind Mr. Evans so he couldn’t escape.

  Mr. Evans put his hands on his hips. “Hey. What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “I think you know,” said Jessie. She held out her hand. “The diamond, please.”

  “Diamond? What diamond? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mr. Evans raised his voice. “Move!” he called to Henry.

  Henry folded his arms an
d shook his head.

  “You have the Elizabeth Star,” said Jessie. “We know you do.”

  “Ha!” said Mr. Evans. “Very funny. Get out of my way or I’ll call the police.”

  “Call them,” said Jessie. “And tell them how you took the Elizabeth Star from its hiding place in Mrs. Teague’s chandelier.”

  Mr. Evans dropped his arms to his sides. There was a long silence.

  “No police,” he said.

  “Where’s the diamond?” Benny asked.

  Slowly, Mr. Evans reached into his shirt pocket and took out an old piece of cloth spattered with paint. He unwrapped it and held it out. There in his hand glittered the Elizabeth Star.

  “I knew it,” breathed Jessie.

  “You stole it!” Benny said. “You stole the Elizabeth Star.”

  “No!” cried Mr. Evans. “I didn’t.”

  “Then how did you know it was there?” asked Violet. She sneezed, and stepped back a little.

  “I was working up on the ladder yesterday morning and I saw it. But there was no way I could get to it without arousing suspicion. Mrs. Teague or Mr. Alden or someone was always around. Anyway, I figured it was safe and I could leave it there until I finished work.”

  “You didn’t steal it and put it there?” asked Jessie.

  “No!” said Mr. Evans. “But seeing it there gave me quite a shock, I can tell you.” He managed a feeble smile. “And that’s no joke.”

  Violet sneezed again and said, “You make me sneeze. It’s the dust.”

  Mr. Evans gave her a puzzled look.

  “It was you,” said Violet. “You’re the one who locked us in the secret room. And you left dust all over Mr. Pound’s apartment.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Just scare you a little. Keep you from figuring out where the diamond was until I could get it safely away from Mrs. Teague’s apartment,” said Mr. Evans.

  “Well, it didn’t scare us. Not one bit,” declared Benny.

  “Mr. Saunders didn’t tell you to go up and scare us?” asked Violet.

  “No,” said Henry, before Mr. Evans could answer.

  “No,” said Mr. Evans. “What has Mr. Saunders got to do with anything?”

  “No. No, I don’t think it was Mr. Saunders. And I don’t think it was Lydia,” Henry went on.