(#20) The Clue in the Jewel Box (2 page)

She summoned Anna and asked for one of the antique dealer’s business cards. On it she wrote a message in a foreign language unfamiliar to Nancy. Realizing that Mrs. Alexandra was becoming tired, the girls now said good-by.

“Wasn’t it exciting?” Bess asked when they reached the street. “And didn’t you just love Mrs. Alexandra? She’s so charming.”

“And her treasures are exquisite,” Nancy said. “I was especially impressed with the Easter egg.”

“Right now I’ll take my eggs in omelet form without gold trimmings,” said Bess, giggling.

“Oh, that appetite of yours!” Nancy teased.

The girls walked back to the center of River Heights’ business section, then turned in to Water Street.

They were halfway down the block when a wiry built man darted from an alleyway and brushed past the girls. He glanced back anxiously, then quickly entered a shabby-looking apartment house.

“That fellow acts as if he were running away from someone,” Nancy remarked, turning around. “Look! A crowd has gathered at the corner!”

Retracing their steps, the girls joined the excited group. In the center of the circle stood a young man, angrily accusing a second young man of having picked his pocket.

The other defended himself. “I was walking along the street, minding my own business, when you grabbed me! I never saw your wallet!”

The argument waxed warmer, and a police officer arrived. Nancy edged closer.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I saw a young man who looks like this brown-haired one. He was running up the street and had on the same color suit.”

“There!” cried the alleged culprit triumphantly. “I’ve been mistaken for the real thief!”

“Which way did the fellow go?” the officer asked.

She directed him to the four-story apartment building, and he hurried off. Everyone followed.

Scarcely had the policeman entered the building when a figure appeared on a fire escape above an alley. Light as a cat, the man leaped to the ground and fled.

“That’s the one!” cried Nancy.

The heavy-set officer came back and ran after the thief, commanding him to halt. Instead, the young man squeezed through a gap between two buildings and vanished.

“Look!” Nancy cried. “He dropped the wallet!”

Had he deliberately thrown it away? the young detective wondered. A moment later the policeman returned.

“Sorry I couldn’t overtake that guy,” he said, handing the wallet to its owner. “I’ll make a report to headquarters. Name, please?”

“Francis Baum,” the other replied, checking the contents. “Never mind the report. I’m satisfied to get my stuff back.”

He examined the contents carefully. Nancy, who stood close beside him, saw part of a business card. Her photographic mind noted:

thson
ter St.

“My money is all here,” the owner assured the policeman. “Thanks for your trouble.”

Francis Baum and the man he had accused walked off, and the crowd dispersed. Bess and George would have gone on also, but Nancy held them back.

“Just a minute,” she said. “I want to search the ground between those two buildings.”

“Surely you don’t think the thief is still there!” George protested, following reluctantly.

“No, but I thought I saw something fall from the wallet when it was dropped.”

“The policeman would have found it,” Bess argued. “If we’re ever to eat—”

“Here is something against the wall!” Nancy interrupted excitedly and stooped to pick it up. She held up the slightly soiled photograph of a small boy wearing a sailor suit.

“This is the same child whose picture was in Mrs. Alexandra’s miniature!” she cried. “Do you suppose she’s related to Francis Baum?”

“Haven’t the slightest idea,” Bess replied, shrugging her shoulders. “And look! There’s a hamburger stand. George and I have an appointment at three o’clock, so we ought to eat.”

“Please do,” Nancy said. “I want to go to Faber’s first.”

The young detective went on alone to the antique shop. It was an inconspicuous place on a busy street. A bell jingled as she entered.

A pleasant-faced man emerged from a rear workroom. Nancy explained that she was trying to find a gift for her father, and handed him the business card with Mrs. Alexandra’s message on it.

“Oh, Madame sent you herself.” The shop owner beamed, speaking with a noticeable accent. “Ah yes, I am honored to serve you.”

The little man moved briskly about the cluttered room, scanning various objects.

“No, I have nothing suitable now,” he finally said. “You must give me a few days.”

Before leaving the shop, Nancy decided to show him the photograph she had found. She inquired if he knew who the boy might be.

With trembling hands Mr. Faber took the picture of the child in the sailor suit.

“Where did you get this?” he asked tensely. “Tell me! Tell me at once!”

CHAPTER II

After a Suspect

ASTONISHED by the tone of Mr. Faber’s voice and his interest in the photograph, Nancy readily told how it had come into her possession.

“Unbelievable!” the antique dealer murmured. “You say this picture belongs to a young man named Francis Baum?”

“I’m pretty sure it fell from his wallet,” Nancy replied.

“Please describe him,” the shop owner pleaded. “Did Francis Baum bear any resemblance to this boy in the photograph?”

“Why, no. Mr. Baum is tall and has a dark complexion. The boy is very fair.”

“The age of Francis Baum?” he asked quickly.

“Well, it’s difficult to say. He might be in his late twenties—or possibly a little younger,” Nancy replied.

Nancy’s curiosity had grown steadily as Mr. Faber queried her. She longed to ask a few questions of her own, but wisely waited.

“You wonder perhaps why I ask you so much,” he said. “The answers concern the happiness of Madame Alexandra, a royal lady indeed. You see, the boy in this photograph is her long-lost grandson!”

“Please tell me more,” Nancy urged.

“Years ago, when revolution came to their country, the little boy was taken away secretly by his nurse. His mother, father, sisters, the entire family—except the grandmother—perished at the hands of the enemy.”

“How dreadful!” Nancy murmured.

“Those were terrifying years,” the antique dealer went on sadly. “Madame Alexandra, through the aid of loyal friends, escaped. Since then she has devoted herself to a search for her grandson.”

“The nurse has never been traced?”

“It is believed that she came to America, but here the trail ends. If the grandson still lives, he must be thirty years old. You understand now how important it is that we find Francis Baum?”

“Indeed I do,” Nancy replied. “I’ll gladly help you trace him.”

Nancy had inherited her love of mystery. She was the daughter of Carson Drew, a well-known lawyer, who often handled criminal cases. Her mother had died when she was three, and since then the Drews’ home in River Heights had been managed for her and her father by capable Hannah Gruen.

Nancy’s first case was
The Secret of the Old Clock,
and her recent one,
The Quest of the Missing Map.

“Will Francis Baum be difficult to find?” the man questioned her anxiously.

“He shouldn’t be,” Nancy assured him. “No doubt he’s listed in the phone book.”

Acting upon the suggestion, Mr. Faber called to an assistant in the back room. He asked that the book be brought to him at once. Ivan, a young man with a pleasant grin, appeared with the directory. Unfortunately Baum’s name was not listed in it.

“I’ll trace him somehow,” Nancy assured the dealer. “The policeman who recovered the stolen wallet must have his address.”

“If you find Francis Baum, I will reward you richly for the sake of my friend Madame Alexandra,” the shopkeeper declared.

“Oh, I don’t want a reward,” Nancy protested with a laugh. “I’ll find him just for the fun of it, and to help Mrs. Alexandra.”

“But I will repay you in some way,” the man insisted. “Maybe by obtaining a handsome gift for your father. A gentleman’s box perhaps?”

“I’m sure he would like one.”

“That kind of box is something very special,” said Ivan, grinning at Nancy. “In Europe my boss’s father and grandfather were famous jewelers who made many pieces for royal families.

“Mr. Faber’s father once constructed a little train for a prince,” Ivan went on. “The locomotive was of platinum, and the cars were gold. It ran, too.”

“Was Mrs. Alexandra’s Easter egg made by your father?” Nancy asked.

“Ah, so you have seen it!” he commented.

“Only the outside.”

“Madame Alexandra’s Easter egg was indeed made by my famous father,” Mr. Faber declared. “It contains a most unusual object. You must ask her to disclose the secret.”

“I really don’t know her well enough to do that,” Nancy replied.

“If you find her grandson, no favor will be too great to ask.” The shop owner smiled. “Yes, you must see the wonderful contents of her Easter egg. The gift was presented to her by her son, the king.”

“A king?” Nancy repeated in bewilderment. “Then Mrs. Alexandra—”

Mr. Faber looked a bit dismayed. “You did not know?”

“I had no idea.”

“Madame Alexandra prefers that no special deference be shown her,” Mr. Faber explained. “She does not mind if a few discreet people know who she is, but if her true identity became known to everyone, she would be subjected to the kind of publicity she wishes to avoid.”

“I understand. I’ll do everything I can to help her,” Nancy promised.

A few minutes later she left the shop, still excited by the amazing story Mr. Faber had told her. She went directly to police headquarters.

To her disappointment, no record had been made of Francis Baum’s address because he had got his wallet back immediately after it had been stolen. Chief McGinnis said he would instruct the officer who had seen Baum to be on watch for him.

Throughout the afternoon she searched diligently for the mysterious stranger, making many inquiries. At length, weariness and hunger forced her into a snack shop not far from the river docks.

“Finding Francis Baum isn’t going to be as easy as I thought,” she reflected, biting into a toasted cheese sandwich.

Through a window Nancy absently watched a ferryboat tie up at the dock. Passengers alighted, and others boarded the vessel.

Suddenly her gaze was drawn to a young man who looked familiar. The thief who had snatched Francis Baum’s wallet!

Nancy quickly paid her check and left the shop. As she gazed down the street, the young detective saw the man board the ferry.

“There he goes!” she thought excitedly, then reflected, “Or is he the man who was mistaken for the thief?”

Before Nancy could decide whether or not to follow him, the boat’s whistle warned her that the ferry was about to leave. There was no time to think further—the man would escape if she did not act instantly.

Running as fast as she could, Nancy reached the dock a moment before the gate closed. She hurriedly bought a ticket, then dashed aboard the crowded deck. The ropes were cast off and the vessel edged away.

The young detective gazed about in search of her quarry. To her annoyance he was not in sight.

“But he’s aboard,” Nancy said to herself.

She looked at the indoor lunch counter, but there was no sign of the pickpocket. Disappointed, she returned to the deck.

During the past few minutes there had been a sudden change in the weather. Now Nancy was nearly blown off her feet by a strong gust of wind.

As the boat churned through the choppy waves, Nancy scanned the clouds. They were black. She began to shiver in her thin sleeveless dress.

A few moments later, however, the young detective completely forgot her discomfort. She had caught a glimpse of the suspect near the port railing!

Before she could reach the man, a huge wave struck the ferryboat. Passengers were thrown off balance. Several women screamed.

The next instant there was a blinding flash of lightning, followed by a heavy roll of thunder. Rain came down in a torrent, blotting out all view of the river.

Gasping, Nancy tried to find shelter in the cabin, but others ahead of her jammed the passageway. In the milling throng she could no longer see the man she was following.

Suddenly, from off the port bow, came the deepthroated whistle of an oncoming boat. The ferry swerved sharply to avoid a collision, but not in time.

There was a terrific impact as the two craft crashed into each other. Flung sideways, Nancy went rolling down the tilted deck.

CHAPTER III

A Lost Formula

STRUGGLING to her feet, Nancy grasped the railing for support. Children were crying. Men and women were yelling as passengers trapped in the cabin fought to escape.

“Keep cool!” shouted a deck hand, trying to avert a panic. “We’ll reach the dock safely.”

Nancy repeated his message to those about her. She helped people to their feet, and tried to comfort the children.

When it was evident that the vessel had not been damaged below the water line, the passengers calmed down. But they jammed the decks while the crippled boat glided slowly toward River Heights.

Recalling why she had come aboard, Nancy gazed about, searching once more for the suspected thief. She decided it was hopeless to locate him in the crowd. But just as the ferryboat grated against the dock, she saw him.

He was standing close to a man whose right leg had been injured. To her disgust, the suspect stealthily reached his hand into the other’s coat pocket and removed a billfold. Now she was convinced he was the man who had stolen Francis Baum’s wallet.

“Stop thief!” Nancy shouted, but amid the commotion her warning went unheeded.

She tried to force her way forward, but the crowd kept her from moving more than a few feet. By now the boat was ready to discharge passengers. The thief was the first to disembark.

By the time she reached the dock, he had vanished. Nancy was dismayed. “But at least I can supply the police with an accurate description of the pickpocket,” she thought. “He’s about thirty, medium height, has brown hair, and walks with short, quick steps.”