The suggestion excited Nancy.
“I’d love to go if it seems feasible,” she said slowly. “I’ll have to let you know. How much time do I have?”
“Suppose I mail you a copy of our itinerary. It promises to be a fascinating trip,” replied Mr. Simpson. “But the tour flies out four days from now so you don’t have much time to decide.”
The man’s voice seemed far away as Nancy recalled the thrilling tales she had read of the exotic country. Here, unbelievably, was not only her chance to visit it but also to trace the mysterious sender of the prayer rug!
“Miss Drew, are you there?” Mr. Simpson said after a few moments of silence.
“Oh yes,” Nancy answered. “I’m sorry. My mind is, I’m afraid, already in Istanbul.”
“Then you should make the trip,” was the good-natured reply.
Nancy laughed and said she would first have to discuss it with her father. She wrote down the address and telephone number of the travel agency, then hung up.
As she showered and washed her hair, Nancy’s imagination took her to the Middle East and back several times. Suddenly she laughed, realizing she had been so busy thinking she had actually given herself three shampoos! Finally, however, the young detective finished her shower and got dressed.
“I almost forgot that the first thing to do is to find the mannequin,” Nancy thought. “Farouk didn’t ask Dad to come to Turkey to see him. He asked him to bring the figure that used to sit in his window.”
As she pondered the situation, Nancy went to the kitchen to start dinner preparations. Mrs. Gruen, a methodical person, always wrote down what the dinner menu would be.
Nancy looked on the pad and murmured, “Cream of mushroom soup, lamb chops, french fries, peas, chocolate pie.” At the bottom of the sheet was a notation: tomato salad and special dressing.
“I guess I’ll begin on the salad,” Nancy thought.
She found three plump ripe tomatoes in the refrigerator, which she skinned and sliced. Just as she was arranging them on beds of lettuce, Hannah Gruen arrived.
“Hello, Nancy,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here to help. It’s difficult for me with this sore finger to cut things.”
A few minutes later Mr. Drew let himself in through the front door and came directly to the kitchen.
“Oh. Dad, I have so much to tell you and Hannah,” Nancy said.
“Can you please wait until I have something to eat?” he asked, grinning. “I’m so starved I couldn’t stand any shock.”
Within twenty minutes the family was seated at the table and Nancy began her story. Hannah and Mr. Drew were intrigued, especially by the travel agency’s trip to Turkey. As soon as dessert had been served, Nancy excused herself from the table.
“I have something to show you both,” she said mysteriously and went up to her room.
“Oh no!” she gasped, stepping inside. “Togo, how on earth—?”
The little dog, perking up his ears, looked at his mistress. Dangling from his mouth was a curled-toed slipper! The paper in which the pair of slippers had been wrapped was in shreds and strewn across the floor.
“You naughty dog!” she scolded and he dropped the slipper.
Quickly Nancy picked up the mate and gathered the scraps of paper. Neither slipper had been damaged and with a sigh of relief Nancy returned to the dinner table carrying them,
“Bess and George and I are sure these were worn by the mannequin,” she said.
Mr. Drew looked at the slippers closely, turned them over, then went off for a magnifying glass.
“These shoes have been walked in,” he declared. “Not much, though.”
Hannah Gruen spoke up. “Maybe the mannequin was too heavy for Farouk to carry and he shoved her along the floor.”
“If he did that,” said Mr. Drew, “it means that he must have taken her in and out of the window. But why?”
The housekeeper had a practical answer. “Perhaps to change the costume or to clean the one she wore.”
The lawyer nodded. “That’s a very good guess. You’re probably right.”
The idea of the mannequin being moved in and out of the window intrigued Nancy. She decided that the following day she would ask shopkeepers and residents of Satcher Street what they knew about it.
CHAPTER VII
Sly Suspect
AFTER dinner Mr. Drew called the police depart ment to inquire if they had learned anything about the burglar who had tried to steal the prayer rug. After a somewhat lengthy conversation, he put the phone down and relayed a disappointing message to Nancy.
“No leads at all on that man who tried to steal the rug,” he said. “Chief McGinnis thinks the fellow has probably left town.”
“That’s too bad,” said Nancy. “I keep wondering if he’ll make another attempt to get into this house. Dad, I notice you had special burglarproof locks put on both the front and back doors.”
“Yes,” her father replied. “I’ll give you and Hannah keys. But anybody as clever as that fellow can probably figure out a way to unlock them.”
The Drews agreed that there was no use worrying about it. They would not live in fear.
Nancy’s father asked, “Have you found any more clues in the border of the rug?”
“No, but I think I’ll work on it a little right now.”
She went upstairs to her room, brought the rug to the living room, and laid it on the floor. Nancy moved a lamp close, showing up the design clearly. For some time there was silence in the room as the young detective and her father, sitting on the floor, endeavored to find another clue.
“This is frustrating,” Mr. Drew remarked half an hour later. He grinned. “I admit I’m getting a bit stiff sitting in this position. I think I’ll walk around outdoors a little. Want to come along, Nancy?”
“You bet,” she said eagerly.
From earliest childhood Nancy had been thrilled whenever her father had said, “Let’s take a walk.” She had learned a good deal about trees, shrubs, flowers and birds from him.
As they walked along the darkened street, Nancy said, “I hear an owl.”
“That’s right,” her father agreed. He chuckled. “Hear what the wise old one is saying?”
Nancy listened, then she giggled. “It sounds as if he were saying, ‘You will, you will!’ ”
“Exactly,” Mr. Drew said. “I’ll bet when we get back to the house you’ll discover another part of Farouk’s message.”
Nancy squeezed her father’s arm. “Are you tired of walking?” she asked with a grin. “I can hardly wait to search the rug for more clues.”
Father and daughter laughed and circled several adjoining side streets. Finally they returned to the house. Nancy sped into the living room and dropped to the floor. She again scrutinized the border of the rug. To Nancy’s delight her father’s prediction came true. She found two more words: “her to.”
“Oh, Dad, you were right!” she called out.
The lawyer walked in and looked. “Now the instructions are ‘Carson, find mannequin. I love her. Carry her to—’ But where?”
Nancy continued her search until she became sleepy, but found nothing. She folded up the rug and took it to her bedroom.
Early the next morning she telephoned George, then Bess. George was already up but Bess sounded very sleepy.
“Want to help me with some sleuthing?” Nancy asked. Both girls said yes, but Bess begged for a full hour to get ready.
“No hurry,” said Nancy. “We’re just going downtown in the vicinity of the tailor shop and find out from people who live or work there what they may know about the mannequin.”
Nancy once more took out the rug and began to study it. She had barely begun when the front doorbell rang and Hannah admitted George.
“I decided to walk over and save Nancy the trip to my house,” she said.
“Nancy’s upstairs,” said the housekeeper. “Go right up.”
George joined Nancy in the search for further wor
ds or symbols. A few minutes later she said, “I think I’ve found something! It looks like ‘nst.’ ”
Nancy stared at the section to which George was pointing. She smiled.
“You’re absolutely right. I wonder if it’s part of a word. And also, is it French or English or something else?”
The two girls continued the search. It was several minutes before George found two more letters le.
Nancy sat back on her heels, trying to figure out if there was any connection between the two groups. She could think of nothing. Finally she took paper and pencils from her desk for herself and George.
“Let’s try to decipher this thing,” she said.
Nancy sat at her desk and George at the dressing table. Using the letters nst and le they tried to make a word. Every few minutes they would heave sighs of disappointment. But suddenly Nancy gave a shout.
“I have it!” she said.
“What is it?” George asked.
“Constantinople! ”
George stared at the young detective in admiration. “That used to be the name of Istanbul!”
“Exactly.” Nancy began dancing around the room in exuberance. “The mannequin is to be taken to Istanbul!”
The news was too good to keep. As George hurried downstairs to tell Hannah Gruen, Nancy telephoned her father.
“That’s great!” he said, then chuckled. “Nancy, it begins to look as if you might have to go to Istanbul.”
“And you too,” she said.
“We’ll see about that,” he replied. “Farouk is certainly guarding his secret well. It was clever of him to use letters from the old name of Istanbul as a disguise.”
By this time an hour had passed. Nancy and George got into the convertible and went to pick Bess up.
“Hi, sleepyhead!” George greeted her cousin. “You missed all the excitement.”
“Tell me about it,” Bess begged.
Upon hearing of the message to bring the mannequin to Istanbul, her eyes popped wide open. “Are you going?” she asked Nancy.
“How can I? I don’t have the mannequin and I have no idea where she is. By the way, the father of the boy we saved runs a travel agency and has arranged a trip to Turkey.”
George grinned. “When do we start?”
There was no more conversation until the girls reached Satcher Street. Then Nancy suggested that they separate to make inquiries about the mannequin. She would take the center section, while the girls inquired at the two ends.
Nancy spoke to the shopkeepers on either side of Mr. Anthony’s shop. Both said they had moved there after Farouk had left, and knew nothing about his business.
The young detective went across the street to interview shopkeepers there, but had no better luck until she went into a bakery. The owner said he could not help her, but he was sure that Mrs. Beimer, who occupied an apartment above his shop, would be able to give her some information.
“She’s lived in this neighborhood for many years.”
Nancy rang the bell of Mrs. Beimer’s apartment and a pleasant-looking woman came to the door. The girl smiled and said she was trying to find the mannequin that used to be in Farouk Tahmasp’s window. “Have you any idea where she was taken?”
Mrs. Beimer shook her head. “Please come in,” she said and led the way to her living room. She motioned Nancy to a chair near a front window.
In the conversation that followed, Nancy learned that the mannequin had never been left in the window overnight and at times it did not even appear in the daytime. Her costume was often changed.
“I thought this might be some kind of Moslem custom,” Mrs. Beimer said.
“Have you any idea,” Nancy asked, “where Farouk Tahmasp went?”
“No. The whole thing happened so suddenly everyone around here was puzzled. We assumed that the rug dealer had taken the mannequin with him. No one knew why he had left. Although he seemed to have no particular friends, he was a nice person. I understand he didn’t owe anyone a cent when he left.”
The woman sighed. “I sometimes think he got homesick and went back to his native land.”
Since Mrs. Beimer could not provide any further information about Farouk, Nancy changed the subject. “Do you know who the humorous old man is who spends a lot of time in the tailor shop? The one who laughs a lot?”
Mrs. Beimer grinned. “Oh, I know who you mean. He’s half cracked, but sometimes he hits the truth in what he says.”
“What’s his name?” Nancy asked.
“His last name is Hyde and his nickname is Haw-Haw. He likes to be called that.”
Mrs. Beimer warned Nancy to be careful of telling Haw-Haw anything she did not want passed along. “He’s a great gossip.”
Nancy stood up. “Mrs. Beimer, I appreciate all this information.”
She happened to glance out the window and gasped. A young man lounging in a doorway across the street was the Drews’ burglar!
Nancy hurriedly said good-by to Mrs. Beimer and ran down to the street. Knowing that it would be unwise to confront him alone, the young sleuth went into the bakery and asked the owner to telephone the police.
“In the meantime I’ll trail the suspect if he leaves.”
The baker was very glad to cooperate. Nancy watched from inside. The man in the doorway suddenly started up the street at a brisk pace.
Nancy turned to the baker. “Please ask the police to follow me up the street.”
Nancy dashed to the sidewalk and hurried after the young man. She wondered if he was wearing a gold filigree bracelet studded with turquoise.
He began walking so fast that it was almost a run. Nancy was still nearly a block behind. Between milling pedestrians and heavy street traffic she had a difficult time keeping him in sight. Fortunately he did not turn any corners.
“Oh, I hope the police will hurry!” she said to herself.
At that moment the suspect stopped abruptly. A young woman coming up a side street also stopped. Nancy noticed that she was very pretty and had long black hair.
The man whipped a letter from a pocket and handed it to her. She opened it quickly and read the message, which apparently was short but disturbing. She burst into tears.
“It really must be bad news,” Nancy thought.
She continued to move closer, but at a slower pace in order to see more of the drama. The young man put an arm about the girl and drew her to him. She pushed him away and shook her head violently. He tried again. This time she used her fist against his chest to shove him away.
Nancy was so intent on the scene that she had not noticed a car coming up alongside her. Now she turned to look at it. The police! And Bess and George were in the rear seat.
“What’s up?” George called our.
At that instant the Drews’ burglar spotted Nancy and the police. He said something to the girl with him. They turned in opposite directions and fled along the side street.
“Bess and George, follow that girl!” Nancy said. “The police and I will go after the burglar!”
CHAPTER VIII
Shocking News
BESS and George jumped from the police car and sped down the street after the fleeing girl. Nancy stepped into the rear seat and the driver took off after the Drews’ burglar. A block farther on he dodged into an office building.
One of the officers turned to Nancy. “You stay in the car and blow the horn if you see the man. We’ll go into the building and investigate, okay?”
Nancy nodded, though disappointed she could not continue the chase herself.
The policemen disappeared inside while Nancy kept an alert look on all the buildings. It occurred to her that the suspect might go to the roof, jump to the next building, and make his way to the street again unseen.
“That fellow wouldn’t dare show himself here now,” Nancy decided. “I’ll get out of the car so I can see better.”
She stepped to the sidewalk and stared upward. Several passers-by paused to look also.
“Somebo
dy up there?” a man asked Nancy.
“I don’t know, but the police are looking for a man who ran into that building.”
More people stopped until a good-sized crowd had focused their eyes on the rooftops. Nancy was sure that if the suspect were up there, someone would spot him. She decided to watch the jewelry and clothes shops on either side of the office building in case he should run out of one of them.
The crowd of onlookers attracted the attention of Bess and George, who had searched in vain for the burglar’s acquaintance. As they rushed up to see what had happened, Nancy caught a glimpse of the suspect. He was just emerging from a drugstore a little farther down the street.
Instantly Nancy said, “Bess, blow the car horn and keep blowing it until the police come back. Then follow me. George, come along!”
Taking deep breaths, the girls started after the man. Within seconds there was a din on the street. The shrill siren of the police car kept wailing. People shouted and pointed toward Nancy and George who were running at top speed down the street. The burglar looked back. Seeing the girls racing after him, he doubled his pace.
Nancy and George ran faster, but the distance between them and the fugitive remained the same.
“Look!” George panted.
The suspect was pulling a wallet from a rear pants pocket. He brought both hands in front of him and evidently took something from the wallet. Then he returned it to the pocket. Within seconds the wallet popped out and dropped to the sidewalk. The suspect apparently did not know he had lost it because he did not wait to retrieve the wallet.
Nancy and George ran even faster. Nancy scooped up the wallet and yelled at the man. “Stop! You lost your wallet!”
She was sure he had heard her but he paid no attention and sped on.
“Nancy, it’s no use,” George called to her friend, who was a few paces ahead.
“Don’t give up now!” Nancy replied.
George, loyal to Nancy, ran faster. The girls tried their best to overtake the man. He suddenly cut across a parking lot filled with cars. Presently he dodged behind a small truck and they could not see where he went. Unfortunately there was no fence around the place, merely a barrier about a foot high.
The Mysterious Mannequin Page 4