The Clue of the Velvet Mask

by Carolyn G. Keene

  His visitor’s reply was so soft-spoken that Nancy could not catch what he was saying.

  But she heard every word of Tombar’s angry outburst. “Get out of here, Harris!” he roared. “Get out of here before I throw you out!”

  The door was flung open and Mr. Harris rushed out so fast that Nancy did not get a view of his face. She was confronted by Tombar’s beet-red face. He sprang toward her, shaking his fist.

  “You here again!” he exclaimed. “You little eavesdropper! Spying on me! Well, I won’t have it!”

  Though furious at Tombar’s outburst, Nancy gave no indication of her feeling.

  “Spying?” she echoed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re always around!” Tombar snapped.

  Nancy smiled and remained silent.

  “Well, since you’re so curious,” the man said, “I’ll tell you why Richard Harris was here. He’s trying to sell me a cemetery plot, and I don’t want to buy it. That’s all.”

  Nancy was certain that the man was lying, but she pretended to accept his explanation. Quickly she explained the purpose of her call—to ask that he take Linda Seeley back. She gave several reasons why the girl should be rehired, but the man, who by now had calmed down somewhat, gazed at her coldly.

  “I have someone else in mind,” he stated.

  The telephone rang, and Tombar stepped to his desk to answer it. Though he lowered his voice, Nancy heard the name Florence. Instantly her suspicions were aroused. Was he talking to Florence Snecker?

  Try as she would, Nancy could not figure out anything about the call because the conversation was one-sided, the other person doing all the talking. Finally he slammed down the receiver, and turning almost purple with rage, glared at Nancy in the doorway.

  “I knew it! Trying to get an earful again!” he shouted. “Well, this is the last time!”

  He started toward Nancy as if intending to harm her. Midway across the room he stopped in dismay, staring over her shoulder.

  Nancy turned. Directly behind her stood Mr. Lightner, glowering at his employee.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

  “Why, I—that is—Miss Drew is always interfering—” Tombar stammered.

  “That’s no excuse for your actions, Tombar.”

  “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Lightner. My apologies. I didn’t mean any harm. I—I—”

  Nancy escaped to the hall so that the two men might talk privately. But they did not close the door, and she could hear them plainly.

  “Tombar, I’ve given you free rein in the business,” Mr. Lightner said icily. “I permitted you to take complete charge in this department. Without my knowledge you discharged Miss Seeley, though personally I liked her work.

  “And since then matters in this department have been no better—if anything, they’re worse. Records in bad shape. Customers dissatisfied.

  “And now I hear you threatening Miss Drew, who happens to be the daughter of one of my very good friends. This is the last straw.”

  “I gave an apology.”

  “It is accepted,” Mr. Lightner retorted, “and also your resignation.”

  “My resignation! You can’t do that. I’ve been here four years and people depend on me—!”

  “I can and I have,” Mr. Lightner corrected. “Pick up your paycheck as you leave. There is nothing more to discuss.”

  Mr. Lightner turned on his heel and left the office. Meeting Nancy in the hall he assured her that she was welcome to return at any time, and he was sorry for what had happened.

  “I know it wasn’t your fault,” Mr. Lightner said.

  He promised that he would look into Linda’s case as soon as he had the time. Nancy thanked him and started for the door.

  At that moment she saw Tombar stride out of the building by a side entrance. He had not waited for his paycheck!

  “That will give him an excuse to come back here later,” she thought, and left the building.

  Her next stop was her father’s office. Through him she learned that Mr. Harris, instead of being a cemetery-plot salesman, was connected with a downtown real-estate firm.

  “I’m afraid Tombar is doing a lot of covering up,” the lawyer stated. “Maybe I should have him followed.”

  “If he found out about it, we might never be able to prove what we suspect,” Nancy said. “Give me a little longer, Dad. At least until you’ve finished the brief you’re working on.”

  “Well, all right,” her father agreed.

  Obtaining Mr. Harris’s address, Nancy went to his office. She told him quite frankly that she was a private detective and the purpose of her call was to learn of his business connection with Mr. Tombar. Still irritated by the treatment he had received, the agent willingly answered her query.

  “I asked Tombar to sell the Blue Iris Inn,” he disclosed. “Do you know the place?”

  Nancy shook her head.

  “It’s a picturesque old inn out in the country on Woodland Road. An isolated place and in run-down condition. However, it could be converted into a topnotch dine-and-dance spot.

  “I have a client who wants to develop the property. Tombar bought the place cheap and could make a neat profit on it.”

  “He doesn’t want to sell it?” Nancy asked.

  “We offered him double what he paid for it. He won’t even discuss the matter.”

  “Maybe he plans to develop the place himself.”

  “Tombar?” Mr. Harris smiled. “I doubt it. He’s just stubborn, that’s all.”

  Nancy was sure that there was more than stubbornness back of the refusal. She asked the real-estate agent for a description of the old inn. He told her it was a clapboard structure, situated about eighteen miles from River Heights.

  “I’ll bet,” Nancy reflected, “that’s where Tombar used to go on his lunch hour.”

  Recalling the muddy tires on the man’s car, she asked Mr. Harris if Woodland Road were paved.

  “Not all the way. That’s one of the bad features,” the agent admitted. “My client can finance the paving, though, for the short distance that would be necessary. Since it is fast falling into ruin, Tombar would be fortunate indeed to get rid of it now.”

  Nancy thanked the man for his information and said good-by.

  The name Blue Iris Inn intrigued her. She would have enjoyed looking it over under any circumstances. Now, knowing its owner was Peter Tombar, she had a particular desire to see it.

  As soon as she reached home she telephoned Bess Marvin. Nancy brought her up to date on what had happened and invited her to drive out to the Blue Iris Inn.

  “Just the two of us? Alone?” Bess asked dubiously.

  “Why, yes. Unless George can go. There’s no chance of that, I suppose?”

  “Don’t even let her know you’re making the trip,” Bess advised hastily.

  “I won’t,” Nancy promised, deeply concerned. “You’ll go with me, though?”

  “I suppose so,” Bess consented reluctantly. “I hate to do it, because I have a hunch we’ll run into danger, but I won’t let you down. When shall we start?”

  “Right away. I’ll stop for you in a few minutes.” Nancy laughed, and added with a chuckle, “Better pack some sandwiches and a Thermos bottle of milk, too! The dining room won’t be open at the Blue Iris Inn. And I predict we’ll spend a long afternoon there!”

  CHAPTER XIV

  Nancy’s Disguise

  THE sun blazed overhead when Nancy and Bess finally came within view of the rambling old Blue Iris Inn.

  The wooden building stood lonely and forlorn in a spot shaded by tall pines. Flower beds, including the iris from which the inn had taken its name, were choked with weeds.

  After parking some distance from the inn, Nancy and Bess advanced cautiously in case Mr. Tombar should be around. Their attention was focused on the windows, all of which were boarded.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” Bess said. “It sure is no place to have a picnic.”<
br />
  Nancy laughed. “It really could be fixed up very attractively.”

  The girls circled the inn, peering through chinks in the boards which covered the windows. To their amazement, they could see that most of the rooms on the lower floor were cluttered with boxes and crates, many of them with lids nailed shut.

  “Looks like a warehouse,” Bess remarked.

  “I wonder if these came from Taylor’s,” Nancy said. “Snecker works in the receiving-and-marking room. And he’s a friend of Tombar.”

  “Do you think they may contain stolen goods?”

  “Maybe, Bess. I wish we could get inside and open one of those cases.”

  Nancy made a careful inspection of the windows, and tested every door. She quickly reached the conclusion that the building had been effectively barricaded.

  “Let’s leave, Nancy,” Bess urged.

  “I guess we’ll have to.” Nancy sighed. “But you know, Bess, this puzzle is beginning to take a definite form.

  “Remember the charge plate that I found on the railroad track? Well, it must have belonged to Snecker. Now, unless those cartons contain Blue Iris furnishings, I’m convinced there’s something fishy about their being here.”

  “I think so too, Nancy. But if it should turn out that they’re filled with goods from the inn, wouldn’t we look silly reporting it to the police?”

  “I’ll do a little more checking,” Nancy agreed.

  “Let’s get back to town.”

  After eating the delicious picnic lunch Bess had prepared, Nancy drove her friend home, then went straight to her father’s office. Through people he contacted she learned that at the time the Blue Iris Inn was sold, all the furnishings had been disposed of at auction. She asked his advice about telling the police her suspicions.

  “Well, actually you haven’t much to go on,” he said. “Find out first whether Tombar himself bought some of the furnishings at the auction.”

  Nancy set off for the auctioneer’s shop. A short distance from it she met Mr. Lightner.

  “I’m glad I ran into you, Miss Drew,” he declared cordially. “After you left my office I was trying to reach you by telephone.”

  “I’ve been for a ride in the country.”

  “I’ve arranged for you to attend the party this evening. It’s to be a masquerade. What would you like to wear?” He added, smiling, “Lightner’s costumes are at your disposal.”

  “How about my being a maid in the women’s cloakroom?”

  “Very good. A splendid place for scrutinizing guests. Come with me now and I’ll find an outfit for you.”

  Nancy decided to postpone her call to the auctioneer’s office. At the entertainment company she selected a well-tailored black dress with white collar and cuffs and a dainty ruffled cap.

  “I have some news for you,” Mr. Lightner said, walking with Nancy to the front door. “I’m taking Linda Seeley back.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad!”

  To have Linda reinstated in the firm was a great relief to Nancy. Nevertheless, if the series of thefts which had damaged the company’s reputation continued, Linda might be blamed again.

  “That makes this party tonight an important one,” Nancy thought. “Oh, I do hope everything goes along without trouble!”

  Upon arriving home Nancy was pleasantly surprised to find Ned Nickerson lounging on the porch.

  “Schoolbooks are locked up,” he joked.

  “Ned! I’m glad to see you!”

  “What’s in the box? A new dress for a date with me tonight?”

  “Maybe.” Nancy told him of her plan to play the part of a maid at the Dwight party.

  “How about coming with me? I think I could get you in as a checkroom boy. Want to help me catch a couple of masked thieves?”

  “Well,” Ned replied, “since you put it that way, the answer is, naturally, yes. But what do I know about checking men’s hats or coats?”

  “It’s easy, and maybe you’ll spot one of the Velvet Gang. I’ll telephone Mr. Lightner.”

  Arrangements were made for Ned to obtain a uniform and assist the regular checker.

  “Now bring me up to date on the recent happenings,” Ned urged Nancy. “Remember, we didn’t have a chance to talk alone on Friday night.”

  Rapidly she related how the thefts threatened Mr. Lightner’s company with ruin. She told him about Peter Tombar and Ralph Snecker, and their apparent association.

  “I’m inclined to think that both of them are mixed up in the thefts,” she concluded. “The Velvet Gang may be working with them. At any rate, I want to investigate the Blue Iris Inn further.”

  “I’m surprised that you and George haven’t been out there tearing the place apart board by board,” Ned remarked, grinning.

  At mention of George’s name, Nancy sobered and told him of their friend’s unhappy state of mind.

  “Her parents are worried and so am I,” she said. “We can’t understand what’s wrong.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ned said.

  He went home to dinner but was back at the Drews’ by seven o’clock.

  “You’re a very handsome checkroom boy!” Nancy declared when she saw him in his uniform. “How do I look?”

  “Lovely, but not natural. What a hairdo!”

  “I had to disguise myself as much as I could.”

  “Be careful tonight, both of you,” Mr. Drew advised as the couple left the house. “I’ll wait up until you’re home safe.”

  Mr. Lightner, who had arrived early, was waiting for Nancy. He whispered that every precaution had been taken to avert another robbery and no trouble was expected.

  “Six plainclothesmen are here to watch the guests. Nothing can go wrong.”

  Nancy and Ned were assigned to separate cloakrooms upstairs. Nancy found herself paired with a rather indifferent maid named Hilda.

  “All we have to do is stay here and help the ladies with their things,” the girl told Nancy. “Just don’t get the stuff mixed up, that’s all.”

  For the next hour Nancy checked guests’ belongings efficiently, and quickly hung them on racks. Many of the costumes worn were very lovely and she recognized some as having been rented from Lightner’s. Masks were of every form and shape. Nancy could not identify anyone.

  After the dancing had started in the ballroom below, Mr. Lightner came upstairs. He informed Nancy that no guest had appeared without a properly marked admission card.

  Relieved that no suspicious person had been observed, Nancy relaxed a little. Hilda stretched out comfortably on a lounge.

  “We’ll have a few hours now with nothing to do,” she advised Nancy. “Take it easy before the rush starts.”

  Nancy preferred remaining alert and was standing near the door when a tall man in a striking costume came up and presented a check.

  “Madam needs her coat,” he said in low tones. “A long dark-green one. Hurry, please.”

  Nancy glanced intently at the stranger. She could not see his face plainly, for a white silk scarf that matched his Moorish costume served to mask the lower portion. His intense black eyes disturbed her, however.

  She knew the coat he meant without comparing the numbered tickets, for there was no other like it. Deliberately she took her time, pretending she could not find the garment.

  “Hurry!” the man urged again, speaking with a slight British accent.

  More suspicious than ever that he was the thief she had previously encountered, Nancy purposely turned her back and maneuvered to run her hand into the inner pocket of the coat. Instantly her fingers encountered something made of cloth and very soft.

  She quickly took out the object. It was one of the masks used by the daring members of the Velvet Gang! After tucking the velvet hood back in the pocket, she took the coat from the hanger and handed it to the man. With a suggestion of a French accent, she inquired:

  “Madame is ill? She is leaving the party so soon? Perhaps I can help her?”

  “No thanks,” he rep
lied, still keeping his face muffled in the white scarf. “I’ll attend to her.”

  As soon as he was gone, Nancy told the dumbfounded Hilda, “You’re in charge here alone now.”

  Unmindful of the maid’s protests, Nancy hurried down the hall in pursuit of the man carrying the green coat. Passing the room where Ned was stationed, she gave him a prearranged signal. Immediately he joined her at the stairway.

  “What’s up?” he asked quickly.

  “Keep an eye on that man in the Moor’s costume,” Nancy whispered. “No matter what happens, don’t let him escape you.”

  From the staircase, the couple saw him move directly to a bent, white-haired old lady with glasses, who was waiting in the hallway below. She was not costumed.

  Nancy and Ned watched intently as the man solicitously helped the woman put on her coat. Then they parted, the man turning toward the dance floor, and his companion moving slowly toward the entrance at the side of the house.

  “Follow him, Ned!” Nancy whispered excitedly. “I’ll watch her.”

  Ned started off in pursuit. The man dodged in and out among the dancers, and finally headed toward the kitchen. He pushed open the swinging door and darted inside.

  Determined not to lose track of the man, Ned also slipped through the door. He found himself in a large pantry and caught sight of his quarry disappearing through a door that apparently led to the basement.

  Heedless of possible danger, Ned hurried across the kitchen. Reaching the entrance to the cellar, he opened the door and peered down the steps, at the same time flicking the basement light switch. The cellar remained dark. The man must have removed the bulb, Ned thought, in order to hamper pursuit and allow time to escape through the basement exit.

  Lighting a match, Ned cautiously descended the stairs, looking for the fugitive. He was not in sight.

  By the time Ned reached the bottom step, the match was burning his fingers and he dropped it. As he started to light another, Ned felt a thud, then a searing pain in his temple. The blow sent him sprawling on the cement floor, his head throbbing. He had been ambushed!

  CHAPTER XV