The Clue of the Velvet Mask

by Carolyn Keene

  Alone, Nancy leisurely finished her lunch. As she left the drugstore, she chanced to look across the street toward the Lightner offices.

  Peter Tombar was just coming out, a package in his hand. Nancy saw him walk briskly to a green sedan parked a short distance away. A wild thought came to her. Did he have the torn cloak with him?

  Nancy noted that not only the wheels but the fenders were heavily caked with mud. Evidently Tombar had driven recently on unpaved roads in the country. He might be going there now to dispose of the black robe!

  Nancy wished she had driven her own car downtown that morning, but the crisp, cool breeze had encouraged her to walk. Just then a taxi rounded the corner. Instantly Nancy hailed the driver and hopped in.

  “Follow that green car ahead!” she directed as Tombar pulled out.

  “Friend of yours?” The taximan grinned.

  “No, just the opposite,” Nancy replied.

  “Okay, lady. Here goes!”

  Nancy feared that Peter Tombar might have seen her action and give the cab a merry chase. Her fears were well-founded. The green sedan raced to the first corner and turned right. Seconds before the taxi reached the intersection, the traffic light turned red! The sedan carrying Peter Tombar and perhaps the missing cloak was far down the side street.

  “That old boy’s sure stepping on it,” the driver declared. “You want me to try keeping him in sight?”

  “I certainly do.”

  “Then sit tight, miss,” he directed.

  The light changed again and the taxi shot ahead.

  “Look back and see if any cops are coming,” the driver said.

  “Okay,” Nancy agreed, thinking perhaps she might need them.

  CHAPTER IV

  Confusion

  THE Tombar car raced through a stoplight, skidding around a second corner.

  “That fellow’s a lunatic!” Nancy’s taxi driver muttered.

  “Take it a little slower,” she advised nervously. “It’s not worth a smash-up.”

  As she spoke, they heard the shrill scream of brakes ahead. At a busy intersection, Tombar had sped through another red light. Oncoming traffic had halted barely in time to prevent a collision.

  Unmindful, Tombar raced on. Nancy watched as he turned left at the first side street beyond the intersection.

  Again the taxi driver was forced to wait for a traffic light to change. When he finally reached the side street, the green sedan had vanished.

  “Never mind. It’s no use trying to pick up the trail now,” Nancy told the driver after they had cruised around two blocks without seeing Tombar’s car. “He knew we were following him.”

  “He sure tried hard to shake us,” the taximan agreed.

  Nancy told the driver to take her home and tipped him generously for the brief but speedy ride. She was convinced that Peter Tombar did not want her to know where he was going. She decided his movements would bear watching.

  The following day Nancy went to the Lightner building and waited outside for Linda until she finished work. Nancy offered the girl a ride home, and during the drive asked her if she knew what Tombar had in the package he had taken away the previous noon. Linda said she had no idea, but that he was always carrying packages of one sort or another.

  “In connection with his work?”

  “I imagine so,” was Linda’s vague response.

  Nancy inquired whether Lightner Entertainment Company had any big parties scheduled in the near future.

  “Our business has fallen off a lot lately since the robberies have received so much publicity. There’s the Becker wedding, though, Tuesday night, at their home.”

  “The Beckers are prominent socially,” Nancy mused. “There will be a room full of expensive wedding presents. Just the sort of setup to tempt a thief.”

  “Don’t suggest such a thing,” Linda replied with a shiver. “One more robbery and our company may be ruined.”

  “Then why not take special precautions?”

  “Oh, we have! Mr. Tombar has arranged for plainclothesmen to watch the guests. As an added safety measure, Mr. Lightner suggested that a reliable servant be assigned to guard the silver. Mr. Tombar thought that entirely unnecessary, but he was overruled.”

  “Even so, there could be a slip-up,” Nancy insisted. “Those thieves are clever.”

  “How well I know! I wish you were going to be there! You caught a glimpse of the thieves at Gloria’s party and might recognize them if they dare to appear again.”

  Nancy agreed, quickly seizing upon the suggestion. “Can you get me an invitation?”

  “No, but Mr. Lightner could,” said Linda, “and I’m sure he’d be glad to do it. He’s very eager to have the thieves caught. I’ll call him about it tonight.”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Nancy. “Will you try to arrange it so that I can arrive early? I want to look over the house before any guests come.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard,” Linda replied. “Oh, Nancy, if you can prevent a robbery, Lightner’s will be so gratefull” Suddenly she frowned. “I’m afraid Mr. Tombar won’t like your being there. He hates to have anyone change his plans. But don’t worry,” she added quickly. “I feel sure Mr. Lightner will approve.”

  Linda kept her promise and the next day Nancy received a note from Mrs. Becker. Tuesday evening Nancy dressed and drove to the luxurious Becker home. She was met at the door by a pleasant butler.

  “Your invitation, please, miss,” he requested. Nancy showed him the note.

  “Miss Seeley told us we might expect you,” the butler said. “Come in, please.”

  The Becker home had been beautifully decorated with palms and flowers screening every corner of the spacious house. Nancy reflected that they would offer perfect protection for any uninvited guest!

  Wandering around the first floor, she noticed that men had been stationed at all outside doors. She was brought up short as she came face to face with Detective Ambrose.

  “You here as a guest or to help us?” he asked brusquely.

  Nancy laughed. “Perhaps both.”

  “Well, you may be sorry you showed up. I’m afraid there’ll be trouble.”

  “You mean the party thieves might be here?”

  The detective straightened himself up confidently and replied, “I happen to know we should be on the lookout for a crook who’ll try to pass himself off as a highbrow Englishman.”

  Nancy wondered from whom Detective Ambrose had received the tip. She did not wish to encourage his seeming arrogance, however, and said assuredly, “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

  Nancy moved away. Continuing her tour of the ground floor, she noted the location of various treasures.

  “But I doubt that a thief would try to steal anything from the first floor,” she reasoned. “It’s too well guarded.”

  Learning from Linda Seeley, whom she met in the hall, that the wedding presents were displayed on the second floor, Nancy went upstairs. The gifts had been attractively arranged on long tables in a narrow room lined with mirrors.

  Although Nancy had attended many fine weddings, this array of silver and crystal took her breath away. “They’re magnificent!” she thought.

  The only guard in evidence was an elderly servant. Beside him was a house telephone.

  “Are you alone here?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes, miss,” he responded. “Mrs. Becker instructed me not to leave this room until the reception is over and the last guest gone.”

  Nancy supposed that the old man was a trusted and faithful servant. Nevertheless, it seemed to her that it would have been far wiser to have assigned a policeman to the upper floor.

  She decided to ask Detective Ambrose about it. Nancy could not find him, for the bridal party had just returned from the church. Photographers flocked about them taking pictures and guests were arriving in large numbers.

  Hearing a slight commotion at the front entrance, Nancy turned in that direction. Detective Ambrose was questioning a tall, wh
ite-mustached man. As she came closer, Nancy heard him speak with a pronounced English accent!

  “But I mislaid the invitation,” he said crisply.

  Nancy guessed what had occurred. Since the man had appeared without an invitation, the butler had summoned Detective Ambrose.

  The newcomer, indignant at being denied entrance, tapped his cane impatiently. “Dashed if I can understand all this fuss about an invitation. I have explained to the butler that I was detained at my hotel by Lord Atchfield. Hence the invitation was forgotten. Let me pass.”

  “Don’t be in such a rush,” Detective Ambrose advised him sharply. “Your getup and your speech don’t fool me.”

  “My getup? I say, your words mystify me. Mrs. Becker certainly shall hear of this affront!”

  “You bet she will!” Detective Ambrose replied firmly. “Come along. If a member of the family can identify you, fine. Otherwise, you’re going with me to headquarters.”

  “Police headquarters! I say, old chap, you’re making a frightful mistake.”

  Despite the Englishman’s protests, the detec. tive ushered him inside. He asked the butler to bring Mr. Becker to the hall. In a moment the worried father of the bride stepped out of the receiving line.

  “This man’s trying to get in without an invitation,” the detective informed him. “Says his name is Earl Contrey.”

  “The Earl of Contrey, Sussex,” the guest corrected, bowing slightly. “Sorry to have caused all this trouble, but—”

  “I never saw this man before,” broke in Mr. Becker.

  “Ha!” chortled Detective Ambrose. He gripped the Englishman’s arm. “Just as I thought! I figured that brush of yours was a fake!” he added.

  “I say!” the guest sputtered. “My mustache and I are quite real. I demand that you notify Mrs. Becker of my presence immediately.”

  The bride’s father had already turned away.

  “Okay, pal,” Ambrose said. “Let’s just say you’ve been grooming your act for a long time. Come along peaceful-like or I’ll put handcuffs on you.”

  Nancy vaguely recalled having read in the newspaper a few days previously of the arrival in New York of the Earl of Contrey. Suppose this man were he and not the thief in disguise!

  Determined to check the matter herself, she quickly approached the receiving line and whispered to the bride’s mother.

  “Do you know the Earl of Contrey?”

  “Indeed I do!” exclaimed Mrs. Becker. “He’s an old friend of mine. Don’t tell me he flew from New York to attend our daughter’s reception!”

  Mr. Becker was horrified at the turn of events. Quickly his wife explained that she had read of the Earl’s arrival and had sent him a last-minute invitation.

  Together she and her husband followed Nancy to where the detective’s car was parked. Mrs. Becker shook the Earl’s hand as her husband greeted him and apologized profusely for what had happened.

  “We have this young lady to thank,” Mrs. Becker said, turning to Nancy. “I presume you’re helping the Lightner people?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Becker,” she replied.

  Detective Ambrose glared at Nancy. Then he muttered, “I was only trying to do my duty, ma’am. We were tipped off to watch for an Englishman, and this guy—I mean the Earl—fit the bill. Your husband couldn’t identify him.”

  “Of course not. They’ve never met. I hope you make no further mistakes of this nature.”

  Suddenly Nancy realized that if the thief and his accomplices had been waiting for a chance to get into the house without showing invitations, they had had a golden opportunity. Both the detective and the butler had been away from the front door for several minutes and the elderly servant had been left alone to guard the valuable presents!

  Worried, Nancy returned to the house and hastened to the second floor. The door to the room in which the wedding gifts were displayed now was closed. She gently twisted the knob and was startled to discover that the door was locked.

  “Perhaps one of the plainclothesmen locked the door when the trouble started,” she said to herself, trying not to think the worst.

  Nancy noticed that a door to an adjoining bedroom stood ajar. She peered inside. Seeing no one there, she tiptoed in.

  A velvet curtain screened the entranceway into the locked room. Moving noiselessly to the heavy drapery, Nancy cautiously parted it and stepped inside.

  Involuntarily she drew back at the sight before her. The elderly servant lay sprawled on the floor, apparently unconscious.

  In front of a table on which silver pieces were displayed stood a man in formal summer attire with gloves. He wore a velvet hooded mask over his head! The thief was putting the wedding gifts into a dark cloth, drawstring bag.

  “I must get help!” Nancy thought. She glanced at the nearby telephone.

  The thief, sensing he was being watched, whirled. “So it’s the great girl detective!” he hissed at Nancy.

  His voice was that of the brusque man who had danced with her at the Hendricks’ masquerade! The one who had mistaken her for an assistant of his!

  He yanked the long cord from the bag and stretched it taut between his fingers. Nancy stiffened as he stepped menacingly toward her.

  CHAPTER V

  Strange Numbers

  INSTANTLY Nancy seized the house telephone and pushed the signal button. “Help!” she screamed into the mouthpiece.

  To her amazement, the thief flung himself away from her and jumped across one of the tables. He opened a mirrored door in the wall and fled, banging it after him.

  Still shouting for help, Nancy pursued him. The man evidently knew every inch of the rambling house. He ran along a back hall, through a door, and directly to the servants’ stairway.

  Nancy followed him down the stairs, crying, “Stop, thief!”

  Reaching the foot of the stairs, she found he had locked the door. Nancy pounded on it and presently the door was opened by a startled maid. In a moment the place was in an uproar with everyone trying to locate the fugitive. No one had seen him come through the stairway door.

  The shouts had attracted Detective Ambrose and the other plainclothesmen. At once they made a search for the thief. Nancy listened to the voice of every man wearing summer formals, hoping to discover the one who had spoken to her upstairs. But apparently the thief had escaped.

  “Maybe I can learn something from that old servant,” Nancy said to herself.

  She went upstairs and found that her first cry of help on the telephone had brought a maid to aid the elderly man. By now he had revived and was seated in a chair in the bedroom.

  “I don’t know how it happened,” he said. “I never even saw the person who hit me. He sneaked up from behind.”

  Detective Ambrose came in at that moment. He reported no success in apprehending the would-be thief.

  “At least he didn’t get away with anything this time,” the officer remarked. “Our quick work saved the wedding silver.”

  “Yes, we were lucky,” Nancy replied, smiling at the detective’s use of the word our.

  Since the servant guard could offer no clues, she returned to the reception. The gaiety which had prevailed half an hour earlier was gone from the party.

  Nancy remained awhile, departing when the bride left. At home she was surprised to find Bess Marvin and George Fayne. They explained that they had come, hoping to hear about her experiences at the reception.

  Nancy laughed. “Who said I had any?”

  “Why, it’s written all over your face,” George declared. “Come on. Tell us. Did you have another encounter with the man in the mask?”

  “I did,” Nancy said, and went on to relate how the thief had eluded her.

  “Wish I’d been there,” George remarked, her eyes dancing. “I’d have helped you hold him, Nancy.”

  “I could have used a little of your muscle, George. He’s a slippery rascal!”

  “Aren’t you afraid he’ll try to get even with you?” Bess asked nervously. “After a
ll, you wrecked his plans tonight, Nancy, and he won’t forget that.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “You and Mrs. Gruen will be in the house alone tonight, won’t you?”

  “Yes, Dad is still away on a trip. I’m not the least bit afraid, though.”

  At that moment the telephone rang. In the quiet house the sound was startling.

  “It’s probably Dad calling long distance,” Nancy said. “I’ve been expecting him to phone.”

  Excusing herself, she went to the hall and picked up the telephone. At first there was no reply to her hello. Then a man’s voice spoke precisely and with a sinister inflection:

  “Nancy Drew, keep out of affairs that aren’t your own! If you don’t, be prepared to pay the consequences. Another warning. Get rid of that hooded mask. Drop it within twenty-four hours over the wall of Hillside Cemetery.”

  The receiver clicked, indicating the end of the one-way conversation. Bess and George had joined her, aware that something was amiss.

  “Was it a threat?” George demanded.

  Nancy nodded. “I’ve been ordered to get rid of the black mask I picked up at Gloria’s home.”

  “Oh, Nancy!” Bess exclaimed. “Didn’t I tell you? Why did you ever keep the mask?”

  “I intend to hold on to it until the police ask me for it.”

  “Good for you, Nancy!” George approved. “Don’t let that man bluff you!”

  Bess sighed. “Well, if you’re not afraid, I guess we may as well run along. It’s getting late. But do be careful, Nancy.”

  After the girls had gone, Nancy locked the screen door, but left the front door open, for the night was very warm.

  She sat for a while in the living room, thinking about the new developments in the case. Then, abruptly, she went to a desk drawer and took out the black hooded mask.

  As she was gazing at it, Mrs. Gruen came downstairs from her room.

  “Nancy, I think you should go to bed,” she remarked. Then noticing the mask in the girl’s hand, she added with a shudder, “Mooning over that sinister thing again?”

  “It’s my most valuable clue! This might be the very thing I need to track down the thieves.”