Chapter 9 The Mystery at the Ski Jump by Carolyn Keene
The TV Tip-Off
There was no quieting Bunny Reynolds. The woman was so agitated that Nancy and her aunt accompanied her back to her room on the fourth floor.
It was cluttered with photographs of herself and other show people. The woman paced the floor. Her eyes blazed as she discussed Sidney Boyd.
“To think how I trusted that villain!” she lamented, waving her arms dramatically. “Oh, oh, oh, to think I bought bogus fur stock! I shall punish that unworthy soul!” Cooling off a bit, she added, “And then, yesterday evening, I let him sell me those no-good earrings.”
“Earrings?” The word sent Nancy’s brain racing. “Are you sure they’re no good?”
“Of course I am. If that fur stock is worthless, the diamonds must be too.”
“Not necessarily,” Nancy said. “Where did he get the earrings?” Nancy asked.
“He said he inherited them from his mother; that he never intended to dispose of them until he met—me. That only a woman with fire and artistic temperament should wear them!”
“I must see them!” Nancy thought. Then she said to the actress, “I’m no jewel expert, Miss Reynolds, but would you mind letting me examine the earrings?”
Bunny opened the door of her clothes closet. She stood on a chair and groped far back on the shelf until she drew out a satin slipper. From it she took a rolled stocking, which she unwound to disclose a small velvet box.
“Here they are,” she announced. “I haven’t even looked inside since Sid—I mean Mr. Boyd—told me to tuck them away safely.”
Nancy took the case from Bunny’s hands and opened it. The case was empty!
Bunny Reynolds let out a shriek. “He stole them!” she cried. “That horrible man took my money and then stole those diamond earrings.”
“It looks that way,” Nancy agreed, and her aunt nodded. “The diamonds must be real after all.”
The actress burst into tears. “I can’t afford to lose all that money,” she sobbed.
“No, and neither can a lot of other people who have bought Forest Fur Company stock,” Nancy said grimly. “Miss Reynolds, what did the earrings look like?”
“They were beautiful. Beau-ti-ful!” the actress sighed. “Tiny platinum arrows, tipped with large sparkling diamonds at each end.”
“Platinum arrows?” Nancy suddenly felt sure of her hunch.
She opened her handbag and removed the diamond brooch that belonged to Mrs. Packer. She held it toward the actress.
“Were they anything like this?” she asked.
“Why—why!” cried Bunny Reynolds, “this matches the earrings exactly. Where—how did you get the pin?”
“I’m afraid I have more bad news for you,” Nancy said. “The earrings probably are part of a set that belongs to a Mrs. Packer in River Heights. They were stolen from her a few days ago.”
“You mean by Sidney Boyd?” The actress gasped.
“I don’t believe so. But by someone who no doubt is an accomplice of his. A Mrs. R. I. Channing. Did he ever mention her?”
“No,” the woman answered. “But just wait until I get hold of that double-crossing thief Boyd! I’ll call the police.” Suddenly she brightened. “I have a special friend on the force,” she announced, reaching for the telephone. “Sergeant Rolf.”
Nancy slipped over to her aunt and spoke softly in her ear. “I’m going to do some investigating, Aunt Lou, and see if I can find out where Mr. Boyd might be,” she confided. “Will you stay with Miss Reynolds until I get back?”
Eloise Drew nodded. Nancy crossed the room in a few swift strides. As she flung open the door to the corridor, she collided with the crouching figure of Katy, who very plainly had been listening to the conversation!
“Oh-h, excuse me!” the maid stammered.
Nancy smiled. “Naturally you want to know what’s going on, Katy.”
“Yes, ma’am, I certainly do,” the maid admitted. “Will the police get that awful man, Miss Drew? . . . Will they get him now that he’s run away?”
“Run away!” Nancy exclaimed. “Has Sidney Boyd left the hotel?”
Katy pointed mutely to the open door of the room he had occupied. “His bed wasn’t slept in last night,” she explained. “And all his things are gone.”
“Then we must notify the manager at once,” said Nancy briskly.
“I’ve already done that,” said Katy. “It’s one of the rules. Mr. Boyd checked out of the hotel late last night. The night clerk forgot to tell the manager.”
The young detective thought quickly. It was plain what had happened, she told herself. Boyd had sold the diamond earrings to Bunny Reynolds at a pretty price. Then he had stolen them from her. Bold as the man was, he couldn’t risk staying in the hotel any longer after that.
The swindler’s room was meticulously neat. Nancy went inside and examined it for a clue to his whereabouts but with no success. There was not a scrap of paper in the wastebasket. Nothing of any kind in the dresser drawers nor the desk to give her a clue. Boyd was just as clever as his partner in crime, Mrs. Channing.
While the young detective stood there, the sound of a booming voice in Bunny Reynolds’ room announced the arrival of Police Sergeant Rolf. Nancy hurried back to meet him.
The sergeant was a big man with hamlike hands. After hearing Bunny’s story, he demanded to see the brooch which matched the stolen earrings.
“If you don’t mind I’ll take this down to the police laboratory and have some photographs made,” he told Nancy after examining it. “Then we can give the pictures to our men and have them watch out for those earrings. Sidney Boyd may try to sell them again.”
“Isn’t he wonderful!” Bunny cooed, fluttering her eyelashes at the policeman. “You’ll get back my money for me right away, won’t you, Sergeant? You’ll capture that—that deceitful Sidney Boyd?”
The sergeant looked embarrassed. “Now, Miss Reynolds, give me time,” he protested. “Maybe I can have a report for you by tomorrow afternoon.”
Bunny rolled her green eyes at him. “Oh, dear, must you take that long?” she pouted. “Can’t you get some action by tonight?”
Sergeant Rolf fidgeted uncomfortably. “Well—er—the fact is a lot of the men will be pretty busy tonight, Miss Reynolds,” he stammered. “It’s the Policemen’s Ball.”
“Oh-h, I see,” the actress said in a small hurt voice. “You’ll be dancing and having a good time while I—” Bunny’s lip quivered and she dabbed pathetically at her eyes.
The sergeant observed her distress and took a deep breath. “Look. I’ve got no special lady friend,” he blurted. “Suppose you come along with me?”
Bunny Reynolds dropped her tragic air like a cloak. “Why, Sergeant—what a delightful idea!” she beamed. “I’d love to go!”
Nancy beckoned to her aunt. “I think this is our cue for an exit.” She chuckled. “If the sergeant will just write out a receipt for this brooch we’ll be on our way.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course,” said the policeman. Removing a memo pad from his pocket, he wrote a receipt. “Here you are, Miss Drew.”
Nancy slipped it into her purse. She and her aunt left the hotel, turning up their collars against the cold wind.
“You certainly accomplished a lot, my dear,” Eloise Drew praised her niece. “And now for the rest of your visit, please let’s relax and do no more sleuthing.”
Nancy grinned. “At least not until we get a report from Sergeant Rolf,” she promised.
“I’m having a special treat for dinner tonight,” Aunt Lou went on. “We’ll stop at the market and pick up the order.”
Her promise of a treat was more than fulfilled. The schoolteacher had been so intrigued by her niece’s interest in a fur mystery that she had chosen a trapper’s dinner. When the table was finally set with lighted candles and gleaming silver, Nancy heaved an ecstatic sigh.
“Um-m. How delicious everything looks!” she exclaimed. “Venison . . . and wild rice . . . and my favorite currant jelly! Why, Aunt Lou, this is a real north country feast. It’s hard to realize we’re in New York.”
Conversation soon turned to Sidney Boyd and Bunny Reynolds, then to Mrs. Channing and the bogus fur company stock.
“What was it you said about Dunstan Lake?” Aunt Lou asked. “That it was the location of the Forest Fur Company?”
“So it says on the stock certificates,” her niece answered. “But nobody—not even the United States Post Office—ever heard of such a place.”
“Maybe it’s not a town at all.” Aunt Lou frowned. “It might refer to a resort without a post office. You know, Nancy, I’ve heard that name somewhere, but I can’t remember when or how. If I only had your sleuthing ability, I’d know in a minute. Nevertheless,” she added with a laugh, “I hope you’ll always ask me to help you in your mysteries.”
“I do call on you whenever I can,” Nancy insisted. “Remember how you gave me a hand in The Clue in the Old Album? And then there was The Clue of the Leaning Chimney. You were simply super in that. And that time you took my dog Togo up to the Adirondacks with you when you closed your summer home, he—”
“Togo!” Aunt Lou interrupted. “I remember now. Someone came to the cottage while we were there. I believe he was a trapper. He was looking for a mink ranch and a Dunstan Lake. But there’s no lake by that name around there, Nancy. Perhaps it’s the name of the owner of the mink ranch.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful clue!” Nancy cried excitedly.
“Please don’t follow it tonight,” her aunt teased, “or we’ll be late for the theater.”
Nancy thoroughly enjoyed the mystery drama Miss Drew had chosen. Sunday proved to be another interesting day, and finally when evening came they were ready to enjoy a television symphony concert.
Together, the golden-haired girl and the aunt she so closely resembled seated themselves before the television set in the living room. The musical program was modern and the piano soloist superb. When the show was over, an old film depicting a skating carnival was flashed on the screen.
There was a large picture of the skating queen. Then, one by one, close-ups of her ladies in waiting. Suddenly Nancy leaped toward the television screen.
“Aunt Lou, look!” she pointed excitedly. “That tall attendant in the satin robe.”
“She’s very attractive,” Miss Drew commented. “I’d say she’s the most attractive of all the skaters. Certainly much more striking than the queen.”
“I know her!” Nancy cried.
“Friend of yours?”
“No, no. Aunt Lou, she’s the woman I’m trying to find. That’s Mrs. R. I. Channing!”