I hope this works, she told herself, stepping into line. She reasoned that the man would see
her and figure she was homeward bound. But what if he sticks around to make sure? I know, she thought. I’ll buy a ticket for New York and go to the gate, if necessary. When the coast is clear, I’ll return the ticket and buy one for San Francisco. Good thing I’ve got Dad’s credit card with me!
The line was fairly long, and Nancy waited several moments before casually looking around her. When she did, she was surprised to see the stranger standing in another ticket line three rows away. A lump rose in her throat as she realized that he might be flying to San Francisco!
3. Happy New Year!
Nancy knew she had no choice but to stay where she was. Her line moved slowly, more so than the man’s. He stepped up to the counter while Nancy was still waiting.
He’ll probably buy his ticket, then head for the gate, she thought. But what do I do? Take the flight to San Francisco and wind up sitting next to him on the plane? No thanks.
Her line edged forward, giving her a better view of the man. He was arguing with the woman behind the counter, who tried to remain calm. Still, her expression revealed annoyance, and her lips tightened as the man finally bolted off to an exit and left the airport.
Although stunned by his unexpected departure, Nancy was also tremendously relieved.
She hurried over to the woman, glad there had been no one else in line behind him.
“May I help you?” the clerk asked her.
“That man certainly was rude,” Nancy said, trying to draw out some information. The woman merely nodded. “I’d like a seat on the five o’clock flight to San Francisco,” Nancy continued.
“Seems everybody wants one.” The woman cocked her head toward the exit door through which the obnoxious man had left. “But there are no more seats available. That’s why that man was so angry.”
So he was planning to fly to San Francisco, the girl detective concluded. “Oh dear,” she said aloud. “I really do need to get to San Francisco today. Is there another flight later on?” “Just a minute. Let me check.” The clerk pressed the keyboard on her computer terminal several times. “Here’s something. There’s one seat left on the eight o’clock. Is that okay?” “Perfect,” Nancy replied happily. “It’s that or the bus,” she added with a laugh, “but I don’t have that much time.”
The woman smiled as she wrote out the plane ticket and handed it to the young detective. “Enjoy your flight, Miss,” she said.
“Oh, I will.” Nancy glanced at the big clock in the middle of the terminal. It was only four- thirty; she would have to wait three hours before being able to board the plane. Should she go back to the city? It seemed wiser to stay.
She bought a couple of magazines and found a comfortable bench outside the security area. She sat there reading for nearly an hour, then abandoned her seat for a leisurely stroll. At last, it was seven-thirty, and Nancy headed for the boarding gate. The man was nowhere in sight, and her fears of being followed to San Francisco were diminished.
The flight proved as uneventful as the preceding hours, and it was only when Nancy stepped into the taxi outside the San Francisco terminal that her sense of urgency about the investigation returned.
“Please take me to Chinatown,” she told the driver.
“Chinatown takes up about twenty-four blocks, young lady. Which one do you want?”
“I’ll tell you in a second,” Nancy said, digging into her purse for the business card Charlie Sim had given her. “Mr. Liu’s restaurant on the comer of Grant Avenue and California Street.”
“I’ll do my best,” the driver replied. “But I can’t promise to take you right to the door. It’s the Chinese New Year, and there’s a big parade going on. The streets will be jammed with people.”
“Well, then, let me off wherever you can,” the young detective said. She sank back against the seat as the cab pulled away from the curb.
The hazy, soft light that had bathed her plane during lift-off in Los Angeles had faded into a cool, ink-blue sky that hung icily over the highway. The temperature was much lower than in Los Angeles, and Nancy, feeling chilled, was hoping that a walk through Chinatown would warm her up.
When the taxi reached the area, the driver dropped her off in front of a towering, pyramidshaped building.
“Is this Grant Avenue?” Nancy inquired, squinting at a comer sign.
“No. But do you see that cable car over there? That’ll take you where you want to go.”
“Thanks,” she said, as she paid him. She ran toward the cable car, which rapidly filled up, mostly with Chinese-Americans in attractive silk garb on their way to celebrate the New Year.
Nancy was one of the last to climb aboard, and as the cable car rumbled forward, the din of excited conversation grew softer. Up and down the steep hills, the cable car screeched along, stopping only occasionally to pick up more passengers. No one got off until the end of the line.
The sound of firecrackers and blaring music told her that the parade was less than a block
away, and she trailed after the hurrying crowd.
Soon she was caught in the swell of people who jammed both sides of Grant Avenue, blocking entrance ways to buildings. For an instant, the young detective was totally stymied. If only she knew the precise location of the restaurant. She pressed through the crowd, stepping into the protection of a doorway to look at the business card again.
Then she showed it to a woman in a green tunic dress who pointed to a pagoda-like structure far up the street. Its curling roof was lit up by small lights, indicating the restaurant was open.
Nancy thanked the woman and hurried to the restaurant. The small lobby was lacquered in red, and there was a narrow stairway that led up to a gold-trimmed door. When she opened it, a distinguished-looking gray-haired man greeted her with a bow.
“I wish to speak with Mr. Liu,” Nancy said, observing the elegant, table-filled room beyond.
“I am Mr. Liu. And you are . . . ?”
“Nancy Drew,” the girl replied. “Charlie Sim sent me.”
“Yes, yes. Well, do come inside. You grace my humble establishment with your lovely presence, Miss Drew.”
He ushered her past several patrons to a
corner secluded by a handsome silkscreen that served as a partition. Nancy was impressed by the man’s polite manner and allowed herself to be seated before asking him any questions.
“Permit me to serve you dinner, Miss Drew,” the proprietor said.
“But—”
“You are my guest, please,” he interrupted, raising his hand in protest.
“But, Mr. Liu, may I speak with you first?” Nancy persisted.
“First you should dine.” He smiled, excused himself, then returned shortly with a waiter and a plate of pan-fried shrimp. “Baked with sea salt,” Mr. Liu announced, as the dish was placed in front of Nancy.
Next, he produced honeyed spareribs, followed by a delectable soup, and finally, the specialty of the house, Peking duck.
“Are you ready for dessert, Miss Drew?” Mr. Liu asked when she had swallowed her last mouthful.
“No, thank you,” the girl replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “I’m really not used to such a
feast.”
“Ah, but it is the Chinese New Year, and you must eat a little of everything.” Once more he signaled to the waiter, who brought a bowl of
fresh fruit and a pot of jasmine tea.
“It was all so delicious,” Nancy complimented Mr. Liu as he sat opposite her, pouring the tea.
“I’m honored you liked it.”
“And the tea is wonderful,” she said, taking a sip of the aromatic liquid.
“It makes you feel relaxed, so at peace with the world, doesn’t it?” Mr. Liu remarked, fixing his eyes on hers.
“Oh, yes.” The girl detective was unaware of the hypnotizing effect the man’s stare had upon her. He began asking her questions in a low, s
oothing tone, and she responded openly. Without being aware of it, she revealed all the details of her mission to California. Mr. Liu told her that the Rayo del Sol had been loaded with cargo, contrary to the rumor she had heard. “We carried many things, among them bales of beautiful cloth,” he said. “Too bad engine trouble caused the ship to sink.”
The conversation went on for a long time, and at the end Mr. Liu said softly, “You will go back to River Heights, Nancy Drew, and forget about this investigation. You will also forget that I told you to return. You will only remember that you had an extraordinary meal. Do you understand?”
“I do.” Nancy nodded obediendy.
“Good. Now you may leave. And Happy New Year, Miss Drew.”
When Nancy stood outside the restaurant, she inhaled the cool night air and felt the exhilaration of the parade-goers around her. They whistled and cheered as a large, colorful Chinese dragOn marched past, pulling everyone along, including the young detective.
But soon the revelry ended and Nancy glanced at her watch. Nearly three hours had elapsed since she arrived in Chinatown. Where had the time gone? she wondered. Apart from the unusual meal she had enjoyed, she only remembered the thrill of the parade.
Nancy giggled. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” she thought. “All I want to do now is go home.” As she knew there was no flight to Bayport this late, she started to call a taxi to take her to a hotel. Suddenly, she stopped short. A tall, dark man had slipped out of a doorway and crossed the street in front of her.
The sight of him jarred her memory. Nancy knew she had seen him before, but where? Danger! her subconscious flashed. He means danger!
4. Kidnapped!
Nancy tried to follow the man, but lost him. She left Chinatown and checked into a downtown hotel, then lay awake in her bed, trying to piece together the events of the evening.
Slowly, she began to remember what had happened. The dark man had been following her. Apparently he had managed to fly to San Francisco after all, perhaps on a chartered plane. Charlie Sim had sent her to see Jim Liu,-who had set her mind at ease about the Rayo del Sol. But Mr. Sim was wrong! Had he misled her intentionally? “He must have!” Nancy spoke out loud and sat up in her bed. “He wanted me to go home and forget all about the ship. But I won’t.
In the morning, I’ll go back to the San Pedro employment office and see if Roger has found anything!”
But the personnel manager was not helpful when Nancy arrived there the next day. He told her curtly that he had not sent anyone to the Rayo del Sol, that its crew had been South American, and that he could not give her any more of his time. The girl was not sure whether he was telling the truth. Maybe someone had gotten to him, just as someone had threatened the Johnsons, she thought. And I’ll have a better chance of finding out what’s going on from them than from this stranger. Perhaps if I tell them what I’ve learned so far, they’ll talk to me.
As soon as Nancy arrived in Phoenix she called the Johnson home.
“You’re back so soon!” Mr. Johnson said with surprise when he heard her voice. “Does that mean you’ve decided to give up on this case?” “Not exactly,” Nancy replied. “I’d like to talk to you and your wife, if you have the time.” There was a moment of silence, then he said, “You’re at the airport?”
“I have about two hours before my flight to River Heights leaves,” Nancy replied.
“My wife isn’t feeling well, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jules Johnson didn’t sound happy, and Nancy swallowed a sigh before she thanked him and arranged a meeting place.
She hung up the receiver, but didn’t hurry to join the straggle of people moving toward the main terminal area. Aware that she would have at least half an hour before Mr. Johnson arrived, she strolled along the concourse, deciding that she’d spend the time looking for a book or magazine to read on her flight to River Heights.
As she stepped into the busy lounge, a man in a brown uniform came toward her, frowning slightly. “Miss Drew?” he asked. “Miss Nancy Drew?”
Nancy nodded, startled at being recognized, but also aware that her picture often appeared in newspapers when she and her father solved spectacular cases. “I’m Nancy Drew,” she acknowledged.
“There is a call for you,” the man said. “A most urgent call, the gentleman said.” He smiled. “If you will follow me?”
It had to be her father, Nancy decided. Perhaps he’d made some exciting discovery since their last conversation, maybe even something that would change her plan to fly back to River Heights. The man indicated a door marked ‘Private,’ and Nancy hurried inside with a quick thank you. Her mind was so busy
speculating about what her father might have to say, she did not notice the man standing behind the door. The next moment, she was struck by a sharp blow. She dropped into the silent darkness of unconsciousness without making a sound!
When Nancy regained her consciousness, her head was throbbing and the floor seemed to move. She tried to sit up to ease the pain in her back and shoulders, but her hands were numb, and when she attempted to move them forward, nothing happened. Slowly, she opened her eyes, but found only darkness.
A scream welled up in her throat, but no sound came out. Her tongue was dry and her mouth seemed full. It was full—she had been gagged! Her eyelashes brushed against fabric, revealing that her darkness was caused by a blindfold.
How did I get here? she wondered, squirming to a slightly more comfortable position. Then she remembered the Phoenix Airport, the uniformed man, the phone call . . . and the blow on her head.
The pain had receded a little, but the throbbing sound continued and Nancy realized suddenly that she was in an airplane. Shocked, she scrambled to sit up, then cried out as her head
pounded, and she slumped back to the floor.
How had she gotten on this plane, and where was it taking her? Why was she bound, gagged and blindfolded?
There were no answers in the noisy darkness. Because of the physical strain she had been under, Nancy soon dropped into a kind of restless half-sleep. She was dreaming of the rocking crates and Mr. Liu, when something hit her side. She cried out in pain, a sound that the gag in her mouth stifled. She opened her eyes, and even though she was still blindfolded, the darkness that had surrounded her suddenly seemed much lighter.
“Who are you?” a feminine voice gasped, and Nancy felt soft fingers on her cheek as the blindfold was pulled away.
In the dim glow of a flashlight, Nancy saw a girl only slightly older than herself bending down. She had dark eyes and long, black hair. “What happened?” she asked, but the young detective could not answer until the stranger removed the gag from her mouth.
“Thank you,” Nancy croaked, her mouth dry and sore from the fabric. “Where am I? What am I doing here? Would you untie me?”
“Who are you?” the girl repeated, as Nancy sat up and turned her back so the girl could see her hands. “How did you get on this plane?” Nancy sighed, realizing they were getting nowhere just asking each other questions. “I’m Nancy Drew,” she began. “I was in the airport in Phoenix when someone knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I was on this plane. That’s all I know.” She let out a moan of mixed pain and relief as the ropes dropped from her wrists and she could bring her aching arms forward. “What about you?”
“My name is Elena Escobar,” the girl answered in slightly accented English. “This plane belongs to my family.”
“Where is it going?” Nancy asked.
“It is returning to the del Luz hacienda in the hills beyond Cartagena, Colombia,” Elena replied. “Do you have any idea who put you here?”
Nancy shook her head. “I was hoping you could tell me,” she said. “If the plane belongs to your family, shouldn’t you know?”
Elena dropped her eyes and plucked nervously at her wrinkled jeans. “I—I’m not supposed to be here myself,” she replied softly. “The pilot took me to Phoenix yesterday so I could return to Arizona State University. I was home f
or Christmas vacation.”
“Then why are you here?” Nancy persevered.
“When I got back to school last night, I called my fiance, Ricardo, at home. We’re to be married in the spring, as soon as I turn twenty-one. I was concerned about my aunt. She acted very strangely while I was home on holiday.”
“Your aunt?” Nancy asked.
“Yes. She raised me like a daughter. My parents were killed in an accident when I was a baby, and Aunt Rosalinda and Uncle Jose brought me up. My uncle died about four years ago, and Aunt Rosalinda and I—” Her voice broke and tears rolled down Elena’s cheeks. “I just never thought something like this could happen to us.”
“What do you mean?” Nancy said.
“She acted as if I were her enemy all of a sudden. We used to be very close. I could talk to her about anything, and she’d tell me about the business, and trust me. But this time, when I came home, she treated me as a stranger. All of a sudden, she hates me!” Elena began to sob violently.
Nancy put an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “There must be an explanation,” she said. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you personally. Someone must have intentionally turned your aunt against you.”
Elena nodded. “Anyway, when I spoke to Ricardo last night, he told me that Aunt Rosalinda had not left her room since my plane took off and that she refused to see him when he tried to visit her. Now she has turned against him, too!”
“Perhaps she just didn’t feel well yesterday,” Nancy suggested.
Elena shook her head. “That wasn’t it. She made it very clear to him that she wanted nothing more to do with him. You must understand that my aunt is a wonderful person. She and Ricardo’s father were great friends before he died. He managed the hacienda for her for many years, and even though Aunt Rosalinda now has another manager, she would always discuss things with Ricardo. But suddenly she’s shut him out, as well as me.”
The Emerald-Eyed Cat Mystery Page 2