Mandie Collection, The: 4 (14 page)

“Maybe, but he also knows I have a piece of chicken for him here in my handkerchief,” Mandie said, taking the rolled-up cloth from her pocket. She got up and walked toward the bathroom to feed him.

“Amanda! You brought meat from the table in your pocket?” Mrs. Taft exclaimed. She shook her head. “Oh, what you won’t do for that cat!”

When Senator Morton came to take Mrs. Taft to her friend’s house, she told him about the missing necklace, and he urged her to report it to the police.

“But you know we’d get delayed with police paperwork, and we want to leave tomorrow,” she said.

“You could at least report it to the manager of the hotel,” Senator Morton advised. “Especially in light of the other things that have been happening.”

Mandie suddenly remembered the unlocked trunks.

“Grandmother, I’ve been trying to tell you something else,” Mandie said hurriedly as her grandmother stood at the doorway ready to leave. “Celia and I locked our trunks when we went out yesterday morning, and when we came back they were both unlocked.”

“What?” Mrs. Taft turned back into the room. “Amanda! Are you sure?”

“Yes, Grandmother, we are both certain of it,” Mandie assured her. “Don’t you have all the keys to everything?”

“Well, yes, I do,” her grandmother said. “In fact, I’ve been keeping them in the pocket of my fur cape in the wardrobe, and I just saw them.”

“That’s an odd place to put keys, isn’t it?” Senator Morton said, smiling at Mrs. Taft. “How clever of you. I never would have thought of it, so I suppose thieves wouldn’t, either.”

“Was anything missing, dear?” Mrs. Taft asked Mandie, ignoring the senator’s comment. “How about yours, Celia?”

“Nothing,” the girls replied.

“All I can say is, I’ll be glad when we finally leave this hotel,” Mrs.

Taft said. She turned toward the door again. “Let’s go to that dinner and hurry back before something else happens.”

Senator Morton spoke to Mr. Swaggingham. “Please be sure these young people stay within your sight at all times.”

“Yes, sir,” the detective promised.

When the adults had left, the young people sat in the parlor and discussed the ruby necklace. Mr. Swaggingham sprawled on a chair and listened.

“I remember you saying the ruby in your grandmother’s necklace looked similar to the stone that was stolen at the catacombs,” Jonathan remarked.

“Well, I don’t know much about precious stones, but to me they looked a lot alike,” Mandie told him.

“I thought so, too,” Celia added. “But I don’t see what difference that would make.”

Jonathan arched his eyebrows. “Perhaps the thief who stole the gem in the catacombs intended to replace it with the one from your grandmother’s necklace,” he suggested.

“No, I think that would be too complicated,” Mandie disagreed. “Besides, my grandmother wore the necklace yesterday,
after
the other ruby was stolen.”

Everyone looked confused.

Mr. Swaggingham straightened up. “It can get complicated when one tries to unravel the doings of thieves,” he agreed.

“What do you think the thief will do with the ruby from the catacombs?” Jonathan asked.

“It would be too easily identifiable to sell as it is,” Mr. Swagginham explained, “so he probably would have it cut, unless he knew a buyer who would take it as an addition to a collection. The police usually work through both avenues.”

“Maybe whoever was in our room last night took my grandmother’s necklace,” Mandie suggested.

“But your grandmother said she didn’t hear anything until we screamed,” Celia reminded her.

“The thief most likely took it while we were all gone, that is, if Mrs. Taft didn’t just lose it because of the faulty clasp,” Jonathan decided.

“You’re probably right, Jonathan,” Mandie agreed excitedly. “But that must mean he was in our suite three times.”

“Why?” Jonathan asked.

“Because we found our trunks unlocked yesterday before the intruder came at night, and Grandmother was wearing her necklace that day,” Mandie reasoned. “She didn’t find it missing until this afternoon. So if the thief stole the necklace this morning while we were out, that makes three times he
or she
was in our suite.”

Mr. Swaggingham laughed heartily and slapped his knee. “You young people can really weave a tale of suspense. I think you ought to write a mystery story. It would really be good.”

They all laughed.

Then the detective pulled out a pocket watch on a chain and looked at it. “I believe it’s time we went down to the concert room,” he remarked, standing up. “Please stay together and within my sight at all times.”

The young people promised they would, and they all went downstairs. In spite of Mr. Swaggingham’s protests, Mandie insisted on bringing Snowball with her. She was afraid someone would let him out.

People were already seated in the concert room when they entered, but they did manage to find four seats near the front. There was a small stage in the room, and the curtain was closed. A pianist was playing soft music in a corner of the room.

Mandie held Snowball and sat between her two friends, and Mr. Swaggingham sat on the other side of Jonathan. Mandie was glad that she and Celia could whisper without the detective overhearing them.

“If I can get a chance, I’m going to ask Mr. Rushton if we can see his equipment so Jonathan can show us how it works,” Mandie whispered in Celia’s ear. “Jonathan said he could do the tricks, too.”

“I’d like to know how he does everything,” Celia whispered back. “I don’t really believe in magic.”

“We’ll find out whether it’s really magic or just some tricks Mr. Rushton knows,” Mandie whispered.

The music suddenly became louder, and the curtain parted. The stage was smaller than the one in the theater, but the magician managed to do exactly the same act he had done in the theater.

Mandie sighed. “Oh, shucks!” she said to her friends. “I thought he’d do something different, but it looks like it’s going to be the same old thing we saw before.”

She watched closely when George Rushton took an empty case and made a stone appear in it. As he pulled back his handkerchief, revealing a red gem on the black velvet background, Mandie gasped. Her friends turned to her.

During the applause, Mandie explained her reaction. “That wasn’t the same stone he used the last time. It was shaped differently. I’m sure of it.”

“I think you’re right,” Jonathan said, “but what difference does it make?”

Mandie glanced over at the detective. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to their conversation. “Maybe none. We’ll find out,” she said.

The performance was over earlier than the young people had expected.

When the lights came back on in the room and everyone stood up to leave, Mandie spoke to Mr. Swaggingham. “Why don’t we go in the dining room and have a cup of tea or something?” she suggested, cuddling Snowball. “It’s too early for my grandmother and the senator to get back.”

Her friends looked puzzled, but the detective readily agreed with the idea. “I could use a cup of tea. Just see that you stay together in this crowd.”

After they were seated for a few minutes in the dining room, Mandie spoke to Celia, “I think I need to find the restroom. Will you come with me?” She stood up, holding Snowball.

Celia joined her and they excused themselves from the table.

“Please be sure to come directly back to the table,” the detective cautioned. As the girls started across the dining room, Mandie heard Jonathan say, “I think I’ll find the men’s room myself.”

The detective urged him to hurry back, and Jonathan said he would not be long. Once Mandie was out of Mr. Swaggingham’s sight, she watched as Jonathan headed for a door labeled
Il Gabinetto
, which they had learned earlier indicated the restroom.

Mandie caught Jonathan’s attention and motioned for him to follow as she and Celia slipped past the door to the women’s room and hurried out of the dining room. He caught up with them at the front desk.

“Can you tell us which room Mr. George Rushton is staying in?” Mandie asked the clerk.

The man smiled. “Suite 100, Signorina,” he replied.

“What are you girls up to now?’ Jonathan asked.

“I thought maybe Mr. Rushton would be in his room by now so we could talk to him and see his equipment,” Mandie told him.

“Mandie,” Jonathan began, “you know we promised not to get out of the detective’s sight.”

“It will only be for a few minutes,” Mandie argued. She started walking down the long corridor.

“But you lied to Mr. Swaggingham, then, Mandie,” Celia said as she followed.

“No, I didn’t,” Mandie objected. “We will go by the restroom on the way back to the table—after we see Mr. Rushton.”

Jonathan stepped in front of Mandie, blocking her way. “I’m beginning to see now what Celia was talking about when she said you were always getting involved in adventures,” he said. “But, Mandie, please think about what you’re doing this time. There is a real live thief running loose somewhere. It could be dangerous.”

“I’m not afraid, Jonathan,” Mandie said. “If you are, then you can go on back to the table with Mr. Swaggingham. Celia, you can, too.”

Celia shook her head. “It is scary to think about, but I have to come with you, Mandie. I can’t let you get into something all by yourself.”

“And I suppose I’ll have to come along to guard you two stubborn girls,” Jonathan teased.

As they began walking again, all three of them saw the strange woman from the ship at once. She was hurrying down the corridor ahead of them.

“Quick!” Mandie said. All three of them raced after the woman. But she was too quick for them. She rushed into the elevator nearby and left the floor.

“Well, there she went again!” Mandie said in exasperation.

“Mandie, don’t you think we ought to go back to the table?” Celia asked. “Mr. Swaggingham is probably curious by now as to what we’re doing.”

“No, I’m going to see Mr. Rushton just for a minute,” she said, looking at room numbers along the corridor. She finally spotted Suite 100. “There it is,” she said, pointing across the hallway.

Mandie paused to compose herself and to think of exactly what to
say to the man if he answered the door. Her friends patiently followed to see what she was going to do.

Slowly approaching the door to Suite 100, Mandie cleared her throat quietly and raised her hand to knock. Suddenly, she realized the door was not completely closed.

She stood there, uncertain what to do, when a conversation within the room drifted through the slightly opened door. She put her finger to her lips to caution her friends to be quiet.

A man’s voice with a foreign accent was saying, “I did search. In fact, I tore the girl’s bag apart. It wasn’t in it.”

Mandie’s heart raced. Someone was talking about her! She looked at Celia and Jonathan, who stuck close by. They opened their eyes wide. They had heard, too.

Mandie recognized George Rushton’s voice: “That’s your fault. It was your idea—not mine—to sew the gem you took from the catacombs into the girl’s purse.”

Mandie and her friends held their breath.

“That was the safest way I knew to get it out of the country,” the voice with the foreign accent replied. “When I returned the bag to the desk here at the hotel, the stone was tightly concealed in it. And when I got to the girl’s room to check on it, it was gone.”

“That was a big mistake, roaming around in that girl’s room like that,” George Rushton told him.

“I had to be sure the clerk gave her the bag and that the gem was still in it,” the man explained. “That way I could follow them out of the country and get the bag back again to recover the gem after we crossed the border.”

“This is all your problem, not mine,” George Rushton replied.

“What do you mean, my problem? It’s yours, too. You’re in this with me,” the man said angrily.

“You can’t do anything right,” George Rushton argued. “You blow out all the candles in the catacombs, and then fail to get the ruby. And then the next day, when you finally get the stone, you steal the girl’s bag to put it in and now you tell me the gem is not in the bag!”

Now just a minute,” the other man said quickly. “We’d better clarify a few things in this matter.”

“All right, all right, but sit down and wait a few minutes while

I clean up. I’ve got to get all this stage makeup off,” Mr. Rushton said.

“Well, don’t take too long in there. We’ve got to do something about this—fast,” the man replied.

There was the sound of a door closing inside the suite.

Mandie moved back on tiptoe and motioned for her friends to follow. When they were far enough away from the suite to talk, she whispered to them, “I just can’t believe it! That good-looking Mr. Rushton is a thief!” she exclaimed softly.

“Imagine a famous man doing a thing like that,” Jonathan added.

“We’d better get back to the table, Mandie. Mr. Swaggingham may come looking for us,” Celia cautioned her friend.

“No,” Mandie quickly replied. “Not right now, Celia. I’ve got to think what we should do. No one will believe us if we go and repeat what we heard.”

“Why not?” Jonathan asked. “There are three of us who heard it all.”

“Well, I guess I’m afraid of Mr. Rushton now. He might do something to us,” Mandie said in a nervous voice.

“Like what? If we go tell Mr. Swaggingham what we heard, he’ll see that the men are arrested,” Jonathan argued.

“I don’t know,” Mandie said, impatiently waving her hand in the air. She paced up and down the hallway a short distance as she pondered what she had heard. Jonathan and Celia silently stood waiting.

To think that a man she had admired had turned out to be a thief! She was always getting into trouble with strangers. Maybe some day she’d learn how to evaluate a person. But then her grandmother had also been enthused over Mr. Rushton’s performance. And he seemed to enjoy a lot of popularity in Rome. Why had he done such a thing? It would completely destroy his career, becoming involved with a criminal like that.

Suddenly, something dawned on Mandie. She came to a halt and hurried toward her friends. “You know what? I think Mr. Rushton has that ruby!” she whispered excitedly. “He took it out of my old bag! That’s why he offered to have his maid wash it for me!”