Perfect Plot (9 page)

“No, thanks,” Patrick said coolly. George and Nancy shook their heads. As Bill walked away, Patrick added, “He probably hopes the publicity will make more people buy Aunt Dotty's books. I wonder if he ever thinks about anything besides his ten percent?”

Before Nancy could comment, Professor Coining came over to them, his brow beaded with perspiration. “Which one of you two ladies would like to dance?” he asked expectantly.

“No, really, I—” Nancy began as she was led out onto the dance floor.

The next half hour was a dizzying succession of twists and twirls. Nancy had to admit it was kind of fun, though, and the professor was a great dancer.

During a complex maneuver that involved having her arms wrapped around her in two different directions, she noticed Julian slipping out one of the french doors to a terrace at the front of the house.

What's he up to? she wondered.

It took her a few moments to excuse herself from the professor, but finally she was able to grab a flashlight from her purse and hurry out to the terrace. Peering past the long facade beyond the construction, Nancy saw what might have been Julian entering the summerhouse.

She hurried across the lawn. As she neared the summerhouse, she began to move silently. She crept up to one of the windows, cautiously boosting herself up to peek inside.

“What?” she said to herself, blinking. The summerhouse was empty!

Nancy sprang to the door and opened it. A Chinese lantern outside the door cast fantastic shadows over the table and the built-in benches that lined the walls inside. There was no place to hide, unless—

Nancy tugged at the seat of the nearest bench.
It swung up to reveal a croquet set. Under the others she found badminton rackets, a wicker picnic basket, a deflated soccer ball, a beach umbrella, and two glow-in-the-dark Frisbees.

Only one bench refused to open. She studied it, then felt along the underside. Nancy became excited as her fingers touched a button. When she pressed it, the seat released and sprang up. She found herself staring down a dark shaft with rungs set into a stone wall.

“So
this
is where Julian disappeared to,” she murmured to herself.

She switched on her flashlight and swung herself over the side of the bench to scramble down the ladder. She counted the rungs as she went. At twenty, her feet touched rough pavement.

Somewhere up ahead, footsteps echoed. Pointing the tiny beam into the blackness, Nancy hurried along a damp, brick-walled tunnel that curved and dipped confusingly. Other tunnels branched off on either side—or was she now following one of the branches? She wasn't certain anymore.

Stopping and listening intently, she no longer heard the footsteps ahead of her. It seemed impossible, but they were
behind
her now. Nancy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Someone was following her!

A moment later her flashlight flickered once, then died. Oh, great, Nancy thought. She shut her
eyes tightly, hoping that would help her to adapt more quickly to the darkness.

All at once she froze, hardly daring to breathe. Wasn't that the scrape of a shoe on pavement she heard, somewhere very near?

She licked her lips and called out, “Is somebody there? Who is it?” Her voice echoed in the darkness.

The only answer was a low, evil laugh.

T
HE MAD LAUGHTER
swelled and echoed, bouncing off the walls from what seemed like four directions at once.

Nancy's instincts took over. She ran, keeping her left hand lightly resting against the wall and her right arm stretched out in front of her. She only hoped there weren't any holes or staircases!

The tunnel twisted and turned, until she lost all sense of direction. She was panting loudly now, and the pounding of her shoes on the irregular pavement made it impossible to hear if her pursuer was gaining on her.

Soon Nancy began to sense, if not quite see, the shape of the passage ahead. It curved to the right and began to slant upward. Then, around the
curve, there was light, streaming in from a side passage. Nancy ran along the new passage and saw a red door set into the side wall, a dozen feet away. The door was slightly ajar.

Nancy stopped, leaned against the wall, and tried to catch her breath. Then she concentrated on listening. From up ahead came a low hum, like the sound of many distant voices, and the rhythmic thump of an electric bass. From behind her there was only silence. Her pursuer must have given up the chase.

Creeping up to the door, Nancy peeked through the gap. On the other side was a small room she had never seen before. It was furnished with a metal desk and a row of gray metal file cabinets. The ceiling light was on, but the room was empty. Nancy pushed the door open and stepped through. When she closed the door behind her, she saw that it wasn't a door but a bookcase. Only someone who was looking for it would have noticed that one of the middle shelves could be pushed in half an inch to release the latch on the concealed door.

Nancy went to the door of the room and opened it into Dorothea's study. Nancy hurried across the darkened room and through that door to the hall. She was eager to reach the ballroom to see who was there and, more importantly, who wasn't.

Back in the ballroom, the lights were down and the Skeletons were playing a slow number. The lead singer was swaying at the microphone with his eyes closed. Seeing couples dancing close made Nancy wish that Ned Nickerson, her steady boyfriend, were here. She'd give anything to be dancing with him right now.

Come on, Drew. You've got a mystery to solve, she thought, mentally shaking herself. She carefully surveyed the room and spotted Julian near the windows, dancing with Kate. Bill was with a woman Nancy didn't recognize. Vanessa was on the sidelines, talking to Armand Wasserman. George was dancing with Professor Coining.

Where was Patrick? Then she saw him at the far end of the room, dancing with a college girl who had come dressed as Vampira.

Nancy frowned. There was nothing to tell her who the person down in the tunnel had been. The obvious suspect was Julian. Maybe he had noticed her following him, hidden in a side passage until she went by, and then come after her. It was certainly possible. Then again, she'd had a strong impression that Julian had been some distance in front of her when she first heard someone
behind
her.

Whoever it was had to know the tunnels and passages very well. He or she had managed to find the way back to the ballroom, in the dark,
and get there while Nancy was still fumbling around in the maze of tunnels. Who knew the house that well?

Patrick, of course, had spent much of his childhood here. Kate had worked for Dorothea for years, then taken on the job of converting Mystery Mansion into a museum. Vanessa and Bill had both been close to the novelist—they had probably visited the house often.

Nancy's thoughts were interrupted as the Skeletons' lead singer announced that the band was taking a break. As everyone clapped, Nancy edged through the crowd to George's side.

“Where have you been?” George demanded. “Professor Coining was driving me nuts! He wouldn't let me stop dancing!”

Nancy glanced around. “Let's go over by the windows. It's less crowded there,” she said. “I need to talk.”

As soon as they were in a secluded spot, Nancy told George what had happened in the underground passages.

“That's awful!” George exclaimed, horrified. “Nancy, you could have been killed! Do you have any idea who it was?”

Nancy shook her head. “I was hoping you could help me figure it out. Did you see anyone leave the party?”

“I can tell you for sure that Professor Coining
didn't
leave the party,” George replied, rolling her eyes. “The way he kept spinning me around, I could barely keep track of where
I
was, much less anybody else.”

“Well, whoever it was obviously wanted to scare me off,” Nancy said. “Everybody who's staying here this weekend heard Kate ask us to find the person who stole the gold figurines. The question is, was the person trying to scare me off the case in general, or specifically trying to scare me away from exploring the secret passages?”

“You mean, you think the figures might be hidden somewhere in the passages?” George asked.

“I wish I knew,” Nancy said. She didn't bother to hide her frustration. “They could be anywhere—the passages, the summerhouse, the rose garden, the maze. . . . This place was
made
for hiding things.”

When George didn't say anything, Nancy looked at her. “Earth to George,” she said, waving her hands in front of George's eyes. George just stared straight ahead.

“The golden antelope,” she murmured. “It's just possible. . . . Why didn't I think of it before?”

“Think of what?” Nancy asked.

“Is there a maze somewhere near the house?” George asked. Nancy told her about the maze of
hedges she'd seen that morning. “We've got to check it out first thing tomorrow!” George exclaimed.

Nancy planted her hands on her hips. “George, will you please tell me what you're talking about?”

“The Golden Antelope,”
George repeated. “It's one of Dorothea Burden's best novels, all about the theft of this really valuable gold statue, and a lot of crooks come to search for it.”

“I think I saw the movie,” Nancy said.

George nodded distractedly. “The point is, the golden antelope was hidden in a secret compartment at the base of a statue of Mercury, at the center of the maze. Did you know that Mercury was the god of thieves?”

“I didn't even know there was one, but I see what you're getting at,” said Nancy. “If our thief is following Dorothea's book, then we should find the figurines in that maze. George, you're brilliant!”

George's cheeks reddened. “Even if we do recover them, we still won't know who stole them.”

She fell silent as Kate walked up to join them.

“I spoke to Julian,” Kate said with a touch of defiance in her voice. “I told him that you'd found out about him. He said it didn't matter. He swore he had nothing to do with stealing
those figurines, and I believe him. I don't care whether you do or not.” Before Nancy or George could say a word, Kate took off.

George focused on Kate until she was out of sight. “I don't know, Nan. I think she's telling the truth.”

“Maybe,” Nancy said, “but we can't rule out any suspect at this point.”

Clapping rose up from the crowd as the Skeletons returned to the stage, picked up their instruments, and launched into a fast song. George began tapping her foot, but Nancy was too preoccupied with the case to think about dancing.

“You know, I'd like to take a look at
The Golden Antelope,”
she told George. “There's bound to be one around somewhere.”

“There's probably a copy in the library,” George suggested. “Anyway, here comes Professor Coining. Let's get out of here!”

The lighting in the library was so dim that Nancy could hardly read the lettering on the backs of the rows of books. She didn't want to turn on more lights and alert anyone to their presence. She pulled down a book at random and opened it. The title page, in old-fashioned type, said the book was “A true and faithful narrative of the dreadful murther of Sir Edmund Bury Godfrey.” The date at the bottom was 1679.

“This place is awesome,” Nancy told George,
carefully replacing the antique book on the shelf. “I'd like to spend a few weeks in here!”

“I don't see any of Dorothea's books,” George reported. “They're probably kept somewhere else.”

Nancy suddenly snapped her fingers, recalling the bookcase that masked the secret doorway in the little file room off Dorothea's study. “Of course!” she said. “I know where they are. Come on.”

Nancy led the way out of the library and down the hall toward Dorothea's study. As they drew near, she stopped suddenly and put her fingers to her lips. The study door was slightly ajar, and a ray of light shone around it. Nancy was sure that the room had been dark before. And hadn't she shut the door behind her? Someone was in there!

Moving as silently as they could, the two girls crept up to the door and peered around its edge. Next to Nancy, George stifled a gasp.

Professor Coining was kneeling in front of Dorothea's safe! He had a scrap of paper in his left hand. With his right he was slowly turning the combination dial, first to the left, then to the right. He paused, then gave the chrome handle a hard twist and pulled. The safe door swung open.

George made a small movement, brushing her trench coat against the wood of the door. The noise was very faint, but the professor obviously
heard it. He spun around and stared in the direction of the door. Nancy took an involuntary step backward.

Professor Coining listened intently for another moment. Then he thrust his right hand into the pocket of his jacket and started across the room, straight toward Nancy and George!