Chapter 14 The Clue of the Velvet Mask by Carolyn Keene
Loot for Sale
It would be cruel to leave the man who lay unconscious on the ground. Yet Nancy wanted to return to the suddenly darkened house. She was sure another robbery was in progress!
As she sought to revive the stranger, she noticed a sweet-smelling but peculiar odor on his clothing. Instantly she thought of George’s experience on the train. This man’s assailant had done a good job of knocking him out. First a blow on the head, as evidenced by some swelling, then drugged.
Repeatedly, Nancy called out “Stop thief!” to warn those inside the house. She wondered if anyone inside could hear her. Minutes later the lights went on again.
“If only someone would come here so I could leave!” Nancy thought unhappily. “The thieves are probably making a getaway this very minute.”
Vainly she hoped that members of the Velvet Gang would try to escape through the parking area, thus giving her a chance to intercept them. But time passed and no one came that way.
Nancy chafed the stranger’s wrists, slapped him gently on the cheek, and finally he began to revive. He stared blankly into her face and mumbled:
“Where am I? What happened?”
“You’re by your car at the Claytons’,” Nancy told him. She helped the man sit up. “Can you recall what happened?” she asked.
“It’s coming back now,” he muttered, brushing a hand across his eyes. “As I got out of the car I was knocked on the head. That’s the last I remember.”
“Your wallet. Do you still have it?”
The guest fumbled in his pocket. “Gone,” he admitted ruefully. “I’ve been robbed.”
“Did it contain anything besides money?” Nancy asked.
“Yes—several cards, including the one to the lecture.”
The man identified himself as Albert G. Brunner and said he had come alone. Nancy introduced herself and told him of her suspicions.
“So you’re the young detective I read about every so often,” he said.
Nancy acknowledged that she was and offered to help Mr. Brunner into the house where a doctor could be summoned.
“By leaning on me do you think you can make it?” she asked anxiously.
“I’ll try,” the man replied. “Once on my feet, I should be okay. I’ve been drugged all right. I remember now that just as I fell a handkerchief with a peculiar odor on it was pressed to my nose.”
Nancy managed to assist him the short distance to the house. There she was relieved of his care by two solicitous servants, who did not seem upset by anything that might have happened in the house. Nancy began to wonder if she was wrong about the thieves.
Instantly she sought Mr. Lightner and told him of her suspicions. Even he had believed the darkness a temporary power shutoff.
An investigation was started at once. It revealed that valuable silver pieces and figurines were missing from the first floor and jewelry from the second.
“This will ruin me!” Mr. Lightner confided to Nancy. “I’ll have to go out of business! What’ll I do?” He walked back and forth excitedly.
“Surely it isn’t that bad,” Nancy said kindly. “By the way, where is Mr. Tombar?”
“I haven’t seen him. I suppose he’s out looking for those thieves.”
Nancy decided to find out for herself. Hurrying from room to room, she finally located him in the kitchen, lecturing his caterers for being so slow.
“Guests aren’t going to stand around all night waiting to be served!” he stormed.
Nancy watched Mr. Tombar until he was free, then nonchalantly started talking to him about the theft.
“I was outdoors and didn’t see a thing,” she said chattily. “But I’d have been terribly scared. Weren’t you?”
“No.”
“Was that because you didn’t see anything?”
“Say, what is this, a third degree?” Tombar snapped at her. “I haven’t got time to talk.” He stalked off.
There was nothing more she could do. The police had arrived and taken charge. Nancy listened as they made the usual checkup. The same robbery pattern as used before. Not a clue left by the wily party thieves!
On the way home Nancy thought about the Velvet Gang. They would never be caught by ordinary methods. They were too cunning and clever at anticipating traps laid for them.
Nancy’s thoughts also turned to Tombar. The man was an enigma. He was certainly faithful to his job, yet his behavior was so unspeakable that it made him seem suspicious. Since he had had nothing to do with the marked invitations, however, her former doubts on that score could be eliminated.
“Still I don’t trust him,” Nancy told herself. “I wish I could go to that wedding Saturday night. Then I could watch Tombar myself. But I can’t send regrets to Helen Tyne’s dance at this late date. And Ned would never forgive me if I disappointed him.”
Next morning at breakfast Nancy was turning over several plans of action in her mind when Bess Marvin arrived.
“Hi, Nancy!” she said but did not smile.
“Hello, yourself. What’s wrong, Bess? You don’t usually get over here so early.”
“It’s George. She’s in bed again, Nancy. The doctor says she’s still suffering from the effects of that frightening kidnaping episode. Personally, I think it’s more than that. George is scared out of her wits about something.”
“She never was frightened of anything before.”
“I know,” Bess admitted soberly. “I always was the timid one of our trio. Something strange has come over her—it’s as if she were under a spell. Won’t you talk to her? For some reason, she’s especially troubled about you.”
“Me?” Nancy echoed as they left the house at once to call on George.
The girl did not look ill, propped up against the pillows with a tray of food in front of her. After Nancy had chatted with her a few minutes, however, she knew that Bess was right.
“What happened last night?” George asked anxiously. “I read about the robbery in the paper. I’m sure you were there.”
“Yes.”
“Nancy, I asked you to give up the case!” George cried out hysterically. “You don’t understand what you’re up against. Those awful people will stop at nothing—nothing—”
Bess and Nancy soothed their friend as best they could, but Nancy would not promise to give up her sleuthing completely. Mrs. Fayne came in to attend her daughter, and a few minutes afterward the girls left.
“Just seeing me seems to excite poor George,” Nancy remarked as she and Bess reached the sidewalk.
“We must avoid talking about the case when we’re with her,” Bess suggested.
“But she’s the one who always brings it up,” Nancy said with a sigh. “Bess, this is awful. It’s like losing the best pal we have.”
“I know it. Maybe you ought to give up the case—or at least pretend to. Then maybe George will get better.”
“I’ll follow your advice,” Nancy promised. “I’ll do a good pretending job. Right now, I’m going to Taylor’s. Want to come along?”
“Sure. Only I haven’t much money.” Bess giggled.
Nancy bought an apron for Hannah Gruen, then they called on Mr. Johnson to ask about the return of charge plates.
“Not many have come in,” he reported. “We’re too busy to go around collecting them. Sorry. I’ll let you know what happens.”
Nancy was deeply disappointed by his lack of interest. “I can’t understand it,” she told Bess as they went downstairs. “He doesn’t seem to care whether he has a thief working for him or not.”
As they passed the jewelry counter, Nancy caught sight of Alice Thompson, a former classmate, who had recently taken a job at Taylor’s. The three girls chatted for a few minutes. Then, with deliberate intent, Nancy asked the girl if she had turned in her charge plate as requested by the management.
“Why, no,” Alice replied. “I was going to, but then a note came around changing the order.”
“Changing it! Why?”
“I don’t know. It just said we weren’t to turn the plates in after all.”
“So that’s why so few were returned,” Nancy mused. “I wonder if Mr. Johnson himself sent out the order?”
Curious to learn the truth, she and Bess immediately returned to the credit manager’s office. Mr. Johnson was elsewhere in the store, but his secretary assured the girls that the order had not come from him.
“If I were you, though, I wouldn’t bother him about it,” she advised. “He has an important conference today. The entire matter is annoying to him.”
Nancy already knew this. She felt completely frustrated. Such a good clue just being thrown away!
“I guess I’ll have to give up the idea,” she admitted to Bess.
“Oh, you’ll think up some other scheme,” her friend said loyally.
With time on their hands, the girls idled through the store. Bess looked at blouses and selected one to be held until she received her allowance. Finally they returned to the jewelry department to find a birthday present for Mrs. Marvin.
“A new assortment of art objects just came in this morning,” Alice told Bess. “We have a lovely miniature painted on porcelain. I’ll show it to you.”
“I’m afraid that would be too expensive—”
“Not this one.” Alice smiled. “The price, in my opinion, is ridiculously low. In fact, I was amazed when I saw the tag. Do let me show it to you.”
She led the girls to a counter on which were displayed a number of small gifts. One of them was a miniature of Marie Antoinette.
Nancy drew in her breath, stunned. The lovely picture looked exactly like the one which had been stolen from Gloria Hendrick’s home!
“This can’t be the same!” she gasped. “It must be a copy—and yet it doesn’t look like a copy. The gold frame has a number of tiny scratches on it as if it were old.
“Bess, I’m sure this was stolen from the Hendricks!”