Bess glanced pityingly at the cats. “Do you suppose we could at least feed the poor kitties? They’re starving!”
“I doubt they’re starving, but go ahead and feed them if you like,” Nancy said.
While Bess fed the cats, Nancy and George checked with the people in the neighboring houseboats to see if anyone had noticed the professor leaving. No one had.
“What are we going to do, Nancy?” George asked when they were back at the professor’s boat.
Nancy reached for the phone and began to dial 911. “Call the police, of course,” she said.
Within minutes a uniformed officer was knocking at the door. He gave the houseboat a quick and thorough search, then turned to the girls. “There’s not a lot I can do at this point,” he said. “I’m going to file a report. If your friend doesn’t show up within twenty-four hours, we’ll investigate. Chances are Ms. Ronsarde will turn up safe and sound.”
Nancy sighed. “Well, I guess that’s the best we can hope for,” she said. She turned to George and Bess. “We might as well go find Chad.”
• • •
Nancy had hoped that the sail with Chad would yield some information about his background and his connection to the case, but it didn’t. All she found out was what she already knew—that he was rich and cosmopolitan and that George was falling for him in a big way. He had a clever way of evading Nancy’s questions while at the same time getting information out of George and Bess.
Nancy Was glad that the girls didn’t tell him anything important, like the fact that the sheik had acquired the copy of the Flame. But they did give him more details about the case than she would have liked.
Still, she couldn’t blame them for not being able to resist his questions. Chad Bannister was one of the smoothest, most charming guys she’d met in a long time. And when she saw Chad wrap his arms around George and kiss her in the boat’s little galley, she knew she might as well give up trying to get George to wring information out of him. George couldn’t be objective anymore.
After the sail, Nancy and Bess said goodbye to Chad and drove home in the twilight. George stayed to have supper with him.
• • •
Nancy had already decided the next day on the way to Diana’s that she needed to talk to Diana alone—without Amanda. Every other time they had talked, Amanda was there, speaking for Diana. Nancy knew she’d find out more if Diana didn’t have Amanda to prompt her.
“Hi!” Diana said brightly, opening the door for the three friends.
Nancy did a double take. Diana was wearing a long dress with a full yellow skirt, red and blue sleeves, blue bodice, and a ruffled stand-up collar.
“Snow White, I presume?” Bess giggled.
“This is my costume for the gala at the Victory Hotel,” Diana answered as they went into the elegant living room. “I’ve always loved the story of Snow White.”
Nancy grinned. Now that she thought about it, Diana was a little like Snow White. It was just like her to wear such a childish costume.
“Anyway, what can I do for you?” Diana asked.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind,” Nancy said.
“More questions?” Diana collapsed onto the sofa. “I thought I’d answered enough questions. I mean, if you want information, you should ask that woman from the insurance company who was poking into everything this morning.”
“You mean Elaine Ellsworth?” Nancy asked sharply. So, even though she had decided Preston Talbot was guilty, she was still investigating. Nancy wondered about this.
“Yes, that one,” Diana said. She shuddered. “She’s got the eyes of a fish.”
“Diana, I need to know how the arsonist might have gotten access to the locked display case where the Flame was kept. Did anyone besides you have a key to the case?” she asked.
Diana bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. “A key to the case?” she repeated. “Well, one of the servants could have copied my key, I suppose, but that seems—Amanda! It’s nice to see you!”
Oh no! Nancy thought to herself. Amanda was standing in the doorway. “Hello, Nancy,” she said. “Have you solved our crimes yet?”
A little frustrated, Nancy shook her head. With Amanda here, she knew that she might as well give up her questioning. Diana wouldn’t talk for herself.
Amanda turned approvingly to Diana. “What a terrific costume,” she said. “It’s perfect!” She smiled at Bess and George. “Brent tells me that you’re going to take your pick of the costumes at Kincaid Studios. You are coming to the party at the hotel on Friday night, aren’t you?” Without giving them a chance to answer, she added, “I really hope you’ll come. In fact, I want you to be my special guests.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary,” Nancy said evenly. “Mr. Talbot has already invited us.”
Amanda smiled broadly. “Well, it’s settled then. You’ll be there!” She settled herself on the sofa. “Please go on with your questions, Nancy. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
But Nancy stood up. “I’m afraid we don’t have time to stay,” she said politely. “We need to get back.” There was no point in hanging around any longer.
The girls said goodbye, went out to the car, and headed back to the hotel, stopping for a bite of lunch. It was just past noon, and Nancy needed to bring Mr. Talbot up to date on their work so far.
In their suite, Bess was changing, and she looked ruefully at her red shoulders. “Looks like I got sunburned out on Chad’s boat yesterday.” She sighed.
Nancy frowned. “That was about all we got, I’m afraid. I didn’t learn a thing from him about the case.”
George stretched out on the sofa. “Speaking of learning things, why didn’t you ask Diana any more questions? We didn’t pick up any information there at all.”
Nancy sat down in one of the plush chairs and put her feet up on the coffee table, the phone at her elbow. Mr. Talbot had been in a meeting, and she was waiting for him to return her call. “Well, I’ve got a hunch Diana’s hiding something—something to do with the Flame. But we’re not going to find out what it is when Amanda’s around. Maybe Diana doesn’t want Amanda to know what she’s up to.”
There was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” George said quickly, jumping off the sofa.
She opened the door, and three men in business suits pushed past her into the room. One of them was Sheik Abdullah’s secretary. He marched toward Nancy. “You must come with us, Miss Drew,” he said.
Nancy gestured toward the phone. “But I can’t,” she explained. “I’m waiting for an important phone—”
The secretary shook his head with a forbidding look. “You must come now,” he said sternly. He gestured to the other men. They stepped forward, and each put a firm hand on Nancy’s arm. “You have no choice.”
“Nancy, what’s happening?” Bess whispered in a frightened voice.
“I’m not sure,” Nancy said, fighting to stay calm. “It feels as though I’m being kidnapped.”
“Indeed,” the secretary said, arching his dark eyebrows. “You may call it whatever you wish. But you are coming with us—now.” And the two men began to pull Nancy toward the door.
Chapter
Thirteen
GEORGE HAD BEEN watching, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Now she leaped for the phone. “Whatever we call it, it looks like kidnapping to me,” she said. “I’m calling the police!”
“That won’t be necessary,” the secretary said, grasping George’s wrist. “I’m sure that Miss Drew will come with us willingly after she gives the matter some consideration. The sheik himself wishes to talk with her about a matter of great importance—the Empress’s Flame!”
Nancy struggled away from the hands that restrained her. “I’ll come,” she said. “Just keep your hands off me!”
“But you can’t go alone,” Bess protested. “George and I are coming too.”
“No,” the secretary told her. “I have no instructions to bring others. Only Mi
ss Drew.”
“It’s all right, Bess,” Nancy reassured her as she picked up her purse. “Just stay by the phone so I can call you if I need you. And if I’m not back by night, call the police.” She turned to the secretary. “Okay, let’s go,” she said. And, surrounded by her Arabian escort, Nancy marched out of the room.
The drive to Malibu in the sheik’s enormous black limousine was silent. The secretary refused to answer any questions. But Nancy found out what she needed to know the minute the sheik greeted her.
“The Flame is gone,” Sheik Abdullah said grimly.
Nancy stared at him. This case was beginning to seem like a game of mirrors—now you see it, now you don’t. “Gone?” she repeated. “You mean it’s been stolen?”
“No,” the sheik said, clenching his fists angrily. “It’s been confiscated. A woman from an insurance company—Elaine Ellsworth—came here with two policemen, claiming that the gown is material evidence in a case. I had to let her take it away.” He frowned at Nancy. “I have told no one about purchasing the gown. You are the one who informed her. You are the one who must pay for this!”
Nancy shook her head. “I didn’t tell her,” she said. “Honestly, I didn’t!” Her mind was racing. How had Elaine found out about the sheik’s purchase? Had she learned about it from Peter Wellington? As far as Nancy knew, he was the only other person who was aware that the sheik had the gown—apart from whoever had actually made the sale.
Perhaps Sheik Abdullah believed her. He waved his hand dismissively. “In any case, the matter of who informed the insurance company is not as important as making my fiancée happy. She is distraught over the loss of the Flame. You must do something.”
“I know what to do,” Nancy said.
She remembered that only a few days earlier Amanda had employed a costumer to make a copy of the Flame. “I think I could find a substitute. It wouldn’t be the same dress you purchased, but it would look exactly like it.”
This seemed to bring the sheik around to Nancy’s side. “If you could do this,” he said fervently, “I would be eternally grateful.” He snapped his fingers, and the secretary appeared. “Please see that Miss Drew has all the money she needs to procure a substitute dress. And if you need any help,” he said to Nancy, “you have only to ask.”
“Thanks,” Nancy said.
• • •
The first thing Nancy did when she got back to the hotel was call Amanda and get the name of the costumer. The phone was answered by her maid, who said that Amanda was out and would be gone for the whole evening. Nancy would have to try again the next day. She had just put the phone down when Mr. Talbot called.
“So the insurance company has the gown now,” Mr. Talbot said after Nancy explained what had happened. There was a note of panic in his voice. “This thing is getting more and more complicated, and we don’t seem to be any closer to a solution.”
“I know,” Nancy said. “I’m concerned too. But we have to follow each of these leads, Mr. Talbot. I can’t tell when one of them might pay off.”
“What about the Ronsarde woman?” Mr. Talbot asked apprehensively. “If something’s happened to her, that puts a new slant on things. This extortionist may also be a kidnapper—or worse.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.” And Nancy told him about the attempts on their lives. “I’m sorry I can’t be more reassuring,” Nancy added. “But I’m sure we’ve got to get a break soon. I’ll let you know when we do.”
After Nancy had said goodbye and put down the phone, George came into the room, her face glowing. She was carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses. “They’re from Chad,” she said in answer to Nancy’s inquiring look. “And he sent a note asking me to go to the costume party with him.”
Nancy sighed. George was obviously head over heels about Chad. “He certainly knows how to impress a girl, doesn’t he?” she said.
George stiffened. “Don’t you like Chad?” she asked, a little hurt.
Nancy gave George a searching look. “It’s not that I don’t like him. The problem is that Chad’s definitely involved in this case—and we don’t know how. Do you remember when we were at Peter Wellington’s store yesterday afternoon and we heard a noise in the back room?”
Bess strolled into the room just then, obviously having been listening. “What are you getting at?” she asked.
“Well,” Nancy said, “when we came out on the street again, I saw Chad running off in the other direction. Then Elaine Ellsworth shows up at Sheik Abdullah’s and confiscates his fiancée’s gown. The question is, who told her that the sheik had it?”
“Maybe it was Mr. Wellington,” George suggested hopefully.
“Or maybe it was Chad,” Nancy countered.
George frowned. “But why would Chad—?”
“Tomorrow I’m going to call Mr. Wellington and ask him if he’s talked to Elaine,” Nancy decided. She stood up and stretched. “In the meantime, I’m going to call Ned and crawl into bed for an early night. I’m bushed.”
“Good idea,” Bess said.
As she picked up the phone to dial Ned’s number, Nancy turned to George. “Have you remembered anything else about the fire?” she asked.
George shook her head. “I keep trying,” she said, “but nothing comes.” She made a face. “I’m afraid it’s hopeless.”
Nancy’s talk with Ned did a lot to raise her spirits. He missed her, he said. When she got back, maybe they could spend a long weekend at his parents’ place at the lake. Just the thought of it cheered Nancy up. It had been only a few days since she’d said goodbye to Ned, but it felt like years. Talking to him wasn’t as good as seeing him, but it was a lot better than nothing. Nancy fell asleep the minute she hung up the phone.
An hour later George gave a bone-chilling shriek from her bed. “Help me!” she screamed. “Help! I’m on fire!”
Chapter
Fourteen
NANCY JUMPED OUT of bed and rushed over to George. “There, there,” she crooned. “It’s only a bad dream, that’s all.”
George stared at her, wide-eyed, as Bess flicked on the light. “It was the brooch,” she gasped. “It began to burn. It was the brooch that started the fire!”
“You’re safe now, George,” Bess said soothingly. “It was just a dream.”
“But you don’t understand!” George exclaimed. “The dream made me remember. The brooch on the gown—it suddenly got hot and began to burn.”
“That’s it!” Nancy exclaimed. “There must have been an incendiary device in the brooch itself.” Then she frowned. “It’s funny—I remember the brooch wasn’t on the dress when we took it off you.”
“Maybe it burned up,” Bess suggested.
“Or fell off,” George said.
“If it fell off,” Nancy said excitedly, “it might still be lying on the bottom of the pool!” She snapped her fingers. “Tomorrow we’re going to make a return visit to Diana’s. But this time I think we’ll make a very ‘private’ investigation.”
“You mean,” Bess said, “we’re going to sneak in?”
Nancy grinned. “You’ve got it.” She patted George’s arm. “And now I vote that we all get some sleep.”
Nancy was so tired that it was after ten on Thursday morning before she awoke. She immediately headed for the phone to call Amanda again.
“Hi, it’s Nancy,” she said when Amanda came to the phone. “I’m calling to get the name of the costumer at Kincaid Studios who copied the Empress’s Flame for you.”
“Sure. Let me just look it up in my book. What do you need it for?” asked Amanda.
Nancy hesitated. She hadn’t promised the sheik to keep the wedding dress a secret. On the other hand, she still hadn’t found out who had sold the stolen copy. And it probably wasn’t a good idea to advertise the fact that the insurance company had possession of the gown now. “Oh,” Nancy said at last, “I just thought I’d like to ask her a few questions, that’s all.”
“Good idea—Wait, Nanc
y. The number’s not here. I’d better check upstairs. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll call back.”
“Thanks,” Nancy said and hung up. She was reading the room-service brunch menu when George came into the room rubbing her eyes sleepily. “How are you feeling this morning, George?” she asked.
“A whole lot better,” George said. “It’s great to be able to remember what happened, even if what I remember isn’t all that pleasant.” She looked at Nancy. “Did you reach Amanda?”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “I’m waiting for her to—” She was interrupted by the telephone.
“Hello, Nancy? Bad news,” said Amanda. “I’ve just called the studio, and the dressmaker’s out of town for the next few days. I guess you’ll just have to put off your questions. I gave them your number, though, and she’ll call you back as soon as she can.”
“But I can’t wait a few days,” Nancy said. “It’s really important that I—”
“What can I say? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait,” Amanda said. “I’m really sorry.” She paused. “Don’t forget about Friday night!” she added brightly. Then she hung up the phone.
“What was that all about?” George asked.
Nancy sighed. “Just another snag in the case,” she said. “I wonder if—”
Bess came in, pulling a pink top over her jeans. “Good morning, everybody,” she said. “What’s for brunch?” She reached for the menu. “What would you guys say to a crisp, hot croissant, with lots of butter?”
All during brunch, Nancy thought about her conversation with Amanda. It just seems too convenient! she said to herself. Why should the seamstress have gone out of town exactly when I need to speak to her?
Nancy decided to do her own checking. So when she finished eating, she picked up the phone and dialed Kincaid Studios. The operator at the switchboard transferred her call to the costume department, where she got a secretary.
“My name is Nancy Drew,” Nancy said. “I’m an acquaintance of Brent Kincaid. I’m looking for someone who can copy a gown for me.”
Playing With Fire Page 7