The Scarlet Slipper Mystery

by Carolyn Keene

  From her handbag Mrs. Boyd lifted a dancing-girl figurine. Inspecting it closely, Nancy could see a flaw that ran along a fold in the skirt.

  “When I saw it,” said Mrs. Boyd, “I took the piece right back to Mr. Howard. And he refused to return my money! He implied that I had damaged the statue after I left the store. Now, what do you think, Nancy? Shouldn’t I sue him?”

  The young detective wanted to hear Mr. Howard’s side of the story before answering the question.

  “Mrs. Boyd, I think my father will have to decide that,” she replied hesitantly. “But, in the meantime, suppose I take the statue down to the store and talk to Mr. Howard? Perhaps we can straighten this out.”

  “Oh, thank you, my dear,” said Mrs. Boyd gratefully as she rose to leave. “Maybe you can talk some sense into Mr. Howard.”

  The next morning Nancy arrived at the jewelry store soon after it opened. Mr. Howard was standing behind a counter near the door.

  Nancy showed him the figurine and told him about Mrs. Boyd’s complaint. Mr. Howard looked annoyed. “I didn’t think that crack was bad enough for me to have to take the figurine back,” he said.

  “Perhaps not,” Nancy said. “But it does look as if the figurine had been tampered with, and I’m sure Mrs. Boyd didn’t do it.”

  Mr. Howard got a magnifying glass and studied the statue. He admitted that Nancy’s suspicion might be right. With a thin knifelike instrument, he deepened the crack a tiny bit. The figurine fell apart in his hands!

  “Well, for Pete’s sake!” Mr. Howard cried. “I wonder if the rest are this way!”

  The jeweler went to the rear of his shop, where five other statuettes were standing on a shelf. “Every figurine has the same flaw,” he announced after examining them. “I’ll call the company that sold me these.”

  Nancy watched as the jeweler telephoned the New York firm. Finally, he grew pale and said, “You mean you have no salesman named Warte? But he showed me his business card!”

  Nancy guessed that Mr. Howard had been cheated by an impostor.

  “What am I going to do?” the jeweler cried despairingly, as he hung up.

  The young sleuth expressed her sympathy and said she was afraid there was nothing he could do. “What did the man look like?” she asked.

  Mr. Howard said the salesman was about five foot eight and pale, with graying hair and deep-set eyes.

  “He was some salesman,” the jeweler went on. “He had an accent. He dropped French and German phrases into his conversation. Talked about the figurines as a foreign art dealer might.”

  Nancy advised Mr. Howard to notify the police. “I suspect the flaws are not just evidence of poor workmanship,” she said. On a sudden hunch, she added, “Would you sell these figurines to me at a reasonable price?”

  Mr. Howard shrugged. “The lot for five dollars.”

  “Fine,” Nancy said. “And now, Mr. Howard, will you please take them apart for me?”

  “Of course,” he said. “Why?”

  “I think we may find something inside one of them,” said Nancy. “Mr. Warte probably wanted to get rid of these figurines in a hurry. The reason may be hidden inside them.”

  Mr. Howard halved the first figurine. “Nothing in here.”

  The next three bisque dancing girls contained no clue. But as the last came apart, Nancy and Mr. Howard gasped in amazement.

  Inside lay a small piece of paper with a number on it. 10561-B-24!

  “That can’t be a manufacturer’s number,” Nancy declared. “If it were, it wouldn’t have been sealed inside the statuette.”

  Tucking the paper into her handbag, the young detective asked Mr. Howard if he would glue the figurines back together. She would return for them later.

  “And don’t you think,” she said, smiling, “that you ought to refund Mrs. Boyd’s money now?”

  “By all means,” the jeweler conceded.

  Later that day, when Mr. Drew returned from the capital, his daughter told him about the figurines, the impostor, and the strange number. The lawyer complimented her for having settled the matter so quickly and satisfactorily.

  Nancy asked her father what he had learned about the Fontaine case in Washington.

  “No adverse reports have ever come in on the couple,” he answered. “The authorities will look into the matter from the foreign angle. We have permission to take care of the situation here.”

  “Good!” Nancy said. “Let’s begin at once.”

  Mr. Drew smiled. “What do you suggest?”

  “Dad, I’d like to bring the Fontaines here until the mystery is solved. Then I’d know they were safe.”

  Hannah Gruen, overhearing, threw up her hands. “Nancy Drew, that’s asking for trouble!”

  The lawyer agreed, but after some coaxing, Nancy won them both over by promising to keep the secret from all but their closest friends.

  She telephoned the Fontaines at once. The brother and sister discussed Nancy’s offer. Henri told her they would like to accept but were reluctant to close the dancing school.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Nancy. “We’ll think of a solution to that problem this evening. I’ll pick you up in front of the school at ten o’clock.”

  When Nancy returned to the living room, she found that Bess and George had dropped in. Mr. Drew was telling them of the new plan.

  Nancy related her conversation with the Fontaines, and the girls discussed how the dancing school might be kept in operation. Suddenly Bess beamed. “I know a number of dancing teachers in town! I’m sure I could get them to conduct some of the classes.”

  Bess made several quick telephone calls and soon announced, “All the older classes are taken care of. But I couldn’t find anyone for the small children.”

  Nancy’s face lighted up. “Why don’t you and I teach them?” she suggested.

  Bess was thrilled. She had taken lessons since she was a tiny tot and knew all the steps that were taught to small children. Nancy, too, had studied dancing and was quite accomplished.

  “Hypers!” said sports-loving George. “I’m glad you didn’t ask me to do any teaching!”

  “Now we ought to have a manager,” said Bess.

  “Maybe Ned will have a suggestion,” Nancy said. “He thought he might stop by this evening on his way back to the summer camp where he’s a counselor.”

  A few minutes later tall, dark-haired Ned Nickerson arrived. “Hello, everybody! Any new mysteries?”

  “A couple,” Nancy admitted.

  George looked mischievous. “In connection with one of them,” she said, “we need a manager for a dancing school. Are you qualified?”

  The athletic youth grinned. “Why, of course!” he declared, striking a ballet pose.

  Bess giggled. “We’re serious, Ned. We have to find a manager.” She explained the situation.

  Ned looked thoughtful. Then he said, “I think perhaps my mother could help out.”

  “Wonderful!” Nancy cried. She telephoned Mrs. Nickerson and was delighted when the kind woman accepted, promising to be at the dancing school early the next morning.

  After Nancy had told Ned about the case in detail, the tall youth glanced at his wristwatch and declared it was time to leave. “I’m due at a counselors’ meeting late this evening,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you soon. Please be careful, Nancy,” he added, squeezing her hand.

  Bess and George said they would be back after dinner to help Nancy plan the best way to move the Fontaines into the Drew home.

  When the cousins returned two hours later, George announced that they had an idea. “We’ll patrol the street,” she explained.

  “We’ll steer any suspicious persons away from the house,” Bess went on. “And if a troublemaker should appear as you approach, we’ll wave a white handkerchief to warn you.”

  “A good idea,” Nancy agreed.

  George asked Nancy for a full description of the mysterious stranger she suspected of sending the threatening n
ote to the Fontaines.

  “Suppose we see him. Shall we call a policeman?” the adventurous girl asked, relishing the excitement.

  “If there’s one around,” replied Nancy. “Of course, we don’t know that this man is guilty. If you see him, it would be best simply to use some ruse to get him out of the way until after the Fontaines are safely in the house.”

  Nancy said that she had arranged with the pilot of a private plane to fly the couple from River Heights to another airport. They would return by train, and she would pick them up at the River Heights station.

  “In the meantime, I’ll come back here,” she said. “If I’m delayed, I’ll phone.”

  Shortly before ten o’clock, Nancy drove off. Bess and George stationed themselves on each side of the street.

  After some time had elapsed, Bess saw a vaguely familiar figure coming up the sidewalk. He looked like the suspected stranger!

  Bess crossed the street and summoned her cousin. It was almost time for Nancy to return, and the fellow was too close to the Drew home for safety!

  George had a sudden inspiration. She calculated the distance so that she and Bess would pass the man under a street light, where they could pretend to recognize him.

  When they walked by him, George turned back and said, “Why, aren’t you from Centrovia?”

  The man looked at her in amazement. “Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” George answered glibly. “I’m a reporter for the local paper, and I’d like to interview you for a feature story. Won’t you come with me to the hotel coffee shop and tell me about the fabulous life you’ve led?”

  “But I don’t want a story about me in the newspaper,” the man protested.

  “It will be a marvelous human interest item,” George persisted.

  Suddenly the man scowled. “Say, what’s going on here?” he asked harshly. “If you don’t mind your own business, I’ll call the police.”

  He strode off in the opposite direction and was lost to view.

  Suddenly the cousins realized that it was after eleven o’clock and Nancy had not yet arrived. They waited another twenty minutes. Still no sign of Nancy.

  Finally Bess decided to go into the house to find out if Nancy had telephoned.

  Hannah Gruen answered her knock. The housekeeper was wringing her hands in dismay. “Oh, Bess,” the woman wailed. “I haven’t heard from Nancy! I just know something has happened to her!”

  CHAPTER III

  A Worrisome Ride

  WHEN Nancy parked in front of the Fontaines’ dancing school, Henri and his sister were waiting for her. They had several suitcases with them. Anyone spying on the dancers would think they were going on a long trip.

  Nancy whispered her new plan to the couple and they nodded assent. “None of your enemies will be able to learn your destination in a private plane,” she said.

  “That’s splendid.” Henri smiled.

  There was little traffic and they soon reached the River Heights Airport. Nancy parked, then pointed to the waiting plane, which belonged to a friend of Ned Nickerson’s. The Fontaines thanked Nancy profusely and hurried off, whispering that they would see her soon.

  As Nancy waited to wave good-by to her new friends, she became aware of a man not far away who stared alternately at her and then at the waiting plane. She wondered whether he was merely an idle bystander or a spy connected with the Fontaine mystery.

  The man, who was slender and of medium height, had black hair and flushed cheeks. His eyes were penetrating, and Nancy found herself turning from his insolent stare.

  After she had waved good-by and the plane was airborne, Nancy turned to look at the man again. He was gone! At first she felt relieved; then her mind began to race. He might be making inquiries about the plane’s destination from some mechanic who had not been warned against giving out the information! The spy could telephone some member of the group and arrange to have him meet the Fontaines with a phony message, getting them into real trouble.

  Nancy tried to shake off the mood. “I’m making a mountain out of a molehill,” she said to herself. “Just the same, I’ll look around.”

  She did not find the man and finally concluded he had left the airport. Her search had taken half an hour and by that time the Fontaines had completed their plane trip and would soon board a train for the return journey.

  “I won’t have time to go home,” Nancy decided. “I’ll take a circuitous route to the River Heights station to throw anyone off my trail.”

  Nancy had gone only a mile when she noticed a car following her. She increased her speed, and the driver behind her did the same.

  “Oh, dear,” Nancy thought, “this may mean trouble!”

  On the spur of the moment she decided to switch to a side road with many curves. It was just around the next bend, and by hurrying Nancy knew she could turn into it before the other car reached the curve. Turning off the convertible’s headlights, Nancy hoped that the driver trailing her would not suspect her ruse.

  Unfortunately the side road was rutted and bumpy, and she was forced to slow down, with the result that the pursuing driver spotted the convertible’s brake lights and came after her. Nancy rolled up the windows and locked the doors. She drove as fast as she dared, but the other car finally overtook the convertible and forced it so close to a ditch that she was compelled to stop.

  From behind the wheel climbed the sinister-looking man she had suspected of being a spy at the airport! He came to stand beside her window.

  “You’re Miss Drew?” he asked with a decided French accent.

  Nancy did not reply.

  “I am a friend of the Fontaines,” the man said brusquely. “Where are they going?”

  Still, Nancy did not answer. The man shook his fist at her. “If you do not tell me, it will go badly with you. You are playing a dangerous game, mademoiselle.”

  Nancy’s heart was pounding, but her voice was calm as she said, “I have nothing to say. Please move your car out of the way!”

  “I will not!” the man cried. “You’re going to answer my question or—”

  He stopped speaking because suddenly he was outlined in the headlights of a car coming up behind them. Apparently fearful of being caught, the man hurried back to his car and got in. But he called back, “You haven’t heard the last of this!”

  He geared his car and roared away. The approaching automobile slowed down. A young couple was in it, and the girl called anxiously to Nancy, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Nancy assured her. “But I’d like to follow you into River Heights, if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay.”

  On the way Nancy wondered if her well-laid plan might be falling through and the stranger would pick up her trail again. But no car followed. Finally she reached the railroad station and parked in the shadows across the street as prearranged with the Fontaines.

  “Hannah and the girls must be wondering where I am,” Nancy thought. “I wish I dared leave the car and phone them. Here’s hoping the train won’t be late and delay me any longer.”

  Presently it loomed down the tracks. Nancy looked around for suspicious persons who might be watching, but the station area seemed to be deserted. The engine ground to a halt and a few passengers alighted. The Fontaines climbed down from the last coach. Henri’s hat was pulled low and the scarf on Helene’s head obscured her face.

  They found the car quickly, got into the front seat without saying a word, as formerly agreed upon, and Nancy drove off. After they had gone two blocks, Henri said, “Did everything go all right with you?”

  Nancy did not want to frighten the couple, but she felt that they should know every detail of the case, and so she told them what had happened.

  Helene gasped. “Oh, Nancy, our enemies mean to harm us, even though we tried to make them think we obeyed their command!”

  “Perhaps not. They may want to know where you are only to be sure you’re not planni
ng to return to River Heights,” Nancy said reassuringly.

  She described the man, but neither Henri nor Helene could identify him as anyone they had known in France or had met in the United States.

  As Nancy turned into her own street, she noticed a man just barely visible in the shadows. He was strolling on the sidewalk opposite the Drew home and looked suspicious. There was no sign of Bess or George. Fearful that the man might be a spy, Nancy drove around the block.

  When she returned, the man was not in sight. Nancy sighed with relief when she spotted Bess and George standing in the driveway, motioning for her to enter. Mr. Drew met the group at the garage. When Nancy mentioned her suspicion about the spy, her father said that he had been the man strolling opposite their house. He was relieving her friends for a few minutes. Along with Hannah and the girls, he had been fearful for Nancy’s safety.

  The Fontaines were introduced and escorted into the house. There they met Hannah Gruen, who threw her arms around Nancy. When Nancy explained the reason for her long absence, the housekeeper visibly shuddered and Bess cried, “Oh, Nancy, I knew this would be a dangerous case!”

  The Fontaines looked very uncomfortable and Bess regretted her remark. She apologized, explaining she had not meant it the way it sounded. There was danger for all concerned and she hoped the mystery would be solved soon.

  To cover the embarrassment, Hannah, who had drawn all the drapes, invited everyone to share a midnight snack of sandwiches and milk she had prepared. As they ate, the young people relaxed. Half an hour later Mr. Drew drove Bess and George home.

  Helene was shown to a guest room on the second floor by Nancy, and Henri was taken to one on the third by Hannah. Over and over the Fontaines expressed their great gratitude. Nancy and Hannah, in turn, said they hoped that the brother and sister would be comfortable and happy during their stay.

  “And don’t be bashful about asking for anything you want,” the kindly housekeeper added.

  At breakfast the following day Helene said she had her first request. In the excitement of the sudden move she had forgotten about a coaching job she had undertaken.