The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery (6 page)

“Don’t tell her I’m snooping around,” Nancy

cautioned. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to blow my

cover.”

“I’ll be careful,” Shana promised. “I really appreciate

what you’re trying to do, Nancy. I don’t know if I could

stick around here at all under the circumstances if it

weren’t for you.”

Nancy opened the door, and the three walked out of

the studio. In the hall, a group of ten- and eleven-year-

old boys and girls were battling with swords.

“They must be the mice and soldiers,” George said.

“That battle holds special memories for Nancy, Bess,

and me,” she told Shana.

Shana joined in the laughter. “I remember that

scene. You three almost brought the tree down. The

Nutcracker has never been quite as exciting. Well, I’d

better get moving. I’ll see you two later.”

While Nancy and George worked their way around

the battling kids to get to the prop room, Shana headed

in the opposite direction.

George opened the prop room door. Nancy was

about to step inside when Lawrence Steele came

charging out. Bumping into Nancy, he knocked her

against the door frame.

“Hey, Steele!” George said, catching Nancy by the

arm. “Watch where you’re going!”

“I might say the same thing to you,” Lawrence

countered. He raked his thick, blond hair back with his

fingers. “What’re you guys doing here, anyway?

Snooping around?”

“I’m the prop mistress,” Nancy announced.

Lawrence snorted. “That’s a good one. Mrs.

Patterson is in charge of props.”

“Not anymore. She quit,” Nancy retorted, tired of

his haughty tone. “So what were you doing in the prop

room?”

Lawrence hesitated, then shrugged. “I was looking

for the Mouse King headpiece. They need it for

rehearsal. It’s not in the wardrobe room with the rest

of the costumes, and Mrs. Wolaski thought it might

have been put in here by mistake.”

Glancing at Lawrence’s empty hands, Nancy asked,

“But it wasn’t?”

“No,” he replied. “At least, not that I could see. If

you should stumble across it while straightening up

that mess,” he added, “bring it down to the wardrobe

room.” Then, not bothering to wait for a response,

Lawrence continued down the hall.

“Oooo,” George said, her dark eyes narrowing. “He

sure can be a pain.”

“I guess everyone has lost their sense of humor

around here,” Nancy agreed as they walked into the

prop room. “That means we have to stay cool if we’re

going to get anywhere in this investigation.”

When they got inside, George surveyed the room. “I

have to agree with him about the mess part,” she said.

“Mmmm. And before we leave this afternoon, I have

to make sure those ornaments aren’t here,” Nancy told

George. Nodding toward a stack of boxes on the other

side of the prop room, she added, “I’ll check those last

boxes over there. Maybe you can start tagging scenery.”

Taking a pad of paper and a magic marker, George

walked over to a pair of large, white pillars. She gave

one of them a little push. “They look like heavy wood,”

she said with a smile, “but they’re just lightweight

papier-mâché. They must be for the Land of Sweets.”

Nancy nodded. “Maybe we should move them out of

the way, so I can reach those other boxes.” She walked

over to help George.

“I’ll push from behind,” George suggested. “You stay

in front and keep it from falling forward.”

The girls were able to move the pillar about a foot

before it began to topple.

“Be careful,” Nancy said. “We don’t want it to fall

over.”

As she and George steadied the pillar, Nancy looked

up. The ceiling was so dark, she couldn’t see very well.

But when she stepped back she saw something that

startled her. Perched on the top of the pillar was a

wooden doll. It grinned down at her with a sinister

smile.

“George, stop!” Nancy cried as the three-foot-tall

doll began to teeter on the edge of the pillar.

But Nancy’s warning came too late. The doll toppled

from the column—heading straight for George’s head!

Nancy grabbed George by the hand and pulled her

sideways. The wooden doll crashed to the floor at the

base of the pillar, missing George’s head by an inch.

Losing her balance, George fell backward, landing on

her rear in the floor of the sled.

“George!” Nancy hurried to her friend. “Are you all

right?”

“I’m fine,” George assured Nancy. Then she nodded

toward the grinning doll, which was now lying on the

floor, its head at an odd angle. “But I’m afraid he’s

not.”

Nancy looked over at the fallen doll. “It’s the

nutcracker,” Nancy said. “You know, the toy that

Clara’s godfather gives her in the first act.” She bent

down to pick up the doll’s head. The brightly painted

face with its smiling mouthful of teeth looked even

more sinister without its body.

“Looks as if we’re going to have to get another one,

doesn’t it?” George said.

Suddenly, the prop room door flew open. “What’s

going on in here?” It was Lawrence, followed by

several young dancers, some in soldier costumes,

others in tutus. Nancy recognized Michelle Edwards,

Shana’s ten-year-old sister, who was playing the part of

Clara.

“Nothing,” Nancy said, looking pointedly at

Lawrence. “We’re just trying to find all the props.”

“My nutcracker!” Michelle wailed when she saw the

broken head in Nancy’s hands.

“Oh, great,” Lawrence grumbled as he stepped

toward the pillar. “One more thing around here to fix.”

Stooping, he picked up the doll’s body and studied it.

Nancy thought Lawrence seemed more annoyed

than surprised. He had just been in the prop room.

Had he booby-trapped the pillar, hoping to scare or

even hurt Nancy or George?

“Can you fix it, Lawrence?” Michelle asked

anxiously.

Lawrence stood up. “Sure.” He smiled and patted

Michelle’s head. “Now go on back to the studio. I’ll join

you there in a minute.” When Michelle and the

soldiers had gone, Lawrence turned to Nancy and

George.

“You two had better be more careful,” he said in a

low voice. Then, tossing the nutcracker’s body to

Nancy, he added with a chuckle, “You wouldn’t want to

lose your head like this poor fellow, would you?”

Neither Nancy nor George thought his remark was

funny. “We could have been hurt,” Nancy said.

“Someone deliberately set the doll on top of the pillar.”

Lawrence frowned. “Do me a favor and leave the

nutcracker in Madame Dugrand’s office, okay? I’ll take

it home tonight and fix it.” With that, he turned and

strode from the room.

Holding out her hand to George, Nancy helped her

friend out of the sled. “Do you think he was

threatening us when he said we should be careful?”

George asked.

“I don’t know,” Nancy said, picking up the

nutcracker doll and placing it in the seat of the sled.

“Lawrence could easily have been putting the

nutcracker doll on top of the pillar while he was in here

instead of looking for the Mouse King headpiece.”

Just then the prop room door flew open once more.

Nancy spun around, expecting to see Lawrence again.

It was Bess. “Lunchtime!” she announced

cheerfully. “Actually, it’s way past lunchtime. I’m

starved.”

“And we’re swamped,” Nancy waved her arm at all

the opened boxes. “Lunch will have to wait.”

“How about if I go to Yogurt Heaven and bring

something back?” Bess offered.

“Great idea.” Nancy pulled her car keys out of her

purse and threw them to Bess.

When Bess had gone, George surveyed the room

and groaned. “So where were we?”

Nancy laughed. “Still looking for the ornaments, I’m

afraid. If I don’t find them, I’ll have to bring some from

home. Maybe I can dress them up a bit with glitter and

lace.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” George said with a

sigh. “Harder work than cross-country skiing.”

About twenty minutes later, Bess called, “I’m back!”

She was carrying bags of food. “Lunch, anyone?”

“I’m famished,” George declared, dropping her

marker and paper.

“Me, too,” Nancy agreed. She took the car keys from

Bess and stuck them in her pocket. Her fingers

touched the fabric of the handkerchief she’d found

earlier on the stage.

“We’ll have a picnic.” Bess set the food on a box,

then pulled up another box to sit on. “It’ll just be the

three of us, though. Mrs. Wolaski was too busy to join

us. That lady works like a beaver. I think she took only

one break this morning.”

Nancy held up the lacy handkerchief. “Look what I

found backstage. It’s a handkerchief with the initials G.

T. embroidered on it. Does anyone here have those

initials, Bess?”

Bess thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t

know. Why?”

“G. T. might just know something about the missing

ornaments or the fire,” Nancy said. “I think I’ll ask

Madame Dugrand if she knows who it belongs to.”

“Madame isn’t here,” Bess said, taking a bite of her

sandwich. “She was going out as I was coming in. She

said something about seeing the printers about the

programs.”

Nancy tucked the handkerchief back into the pocket

of her jeans, then joined George and Bess. “I’ll ask

Madame about it tomorrow, then.”

Bess was about to take a sip of her drink when she

noticed the nutcracker doll on the seat of the sled. Her

eyes widened and she made a face. “What is that thing

staring at me?”

“The nutcracker,” George replied. “Someone stuck

him on top of the pillar, and when Nancy and I moved

it, the doll fell down on us.”

“Weird.” Bess shook her head and shivered slightly.

Nancy paused before biting into her tuna roll. “I

hope there aren’t any more booby traps in here.”

“Booby traps?” Bess repeated, looking around

nervously. “Are you saying someone deliberately

planted that doll up there so it would fall?”

“Not someone,” George corrected. “Lawrence.”

“We don’t know that for sure, George,” Nancy

cautioned. “Who knows? It could be G. T., whoever

that is.”

Standing up, Bess moved her box closer to Nancy’s.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” she said. “Or maybe it’s

the way that thing is watching me,” she added, glancing

over at the nutcracker.

George started to giggle. “It’s just a doll, Bess.”

Reaching into the sled, she turned the nutcracker head

over so its face was hidden. Even Nancy had to admit

she was glad the nutcracker was no longer looking at

them.

Nancy and Bess arrived early at the dance school on

Saturday morning. Bess headed straight for the

wardrobe room. Nancy took the box of ornaments

she’d found in her attic at home to the prop room. The

ornaments wouldn’t exactly pass for antiques, but with

a little dressing up, they’d work fine. Setting down the

box, Nancy went back down the hall to talk to Madame

Dugrand.

“Come in,” Madame called when Nancy knocked on

her office door.

The directress was sitting at her desk, a bright smile

on her face. “I have good news, Nancy. The programs

will be ready Wednesday morning after all. Now I can

relax and have a good time at the gala tonight.”

She sounded so happy and relieved that Nancy

decided not to mention Mrs. Farnsworth’s missing

ornaments until after the party.

“I’m looking forward to the gala, too,” Nancy told

the directress.

Madame stood up. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Has anyone mentioned losing a handkerchief?”

Nancy asked, taking the lacy square of fabric from her

pocket. “I found this yesterday.”

Madame took the handkerchief from Nancy and

examined it for a moment before handing it back. “G.

T.” The directress murmured, then shook her head.

“I’m afraid I don’t know anyone with those initials.”

“Would you mind if I took a look at the current class

list?” Nancy asked.

“Of course not.” Madame took a piece of paper out

of her desk drawer. “But why are you so interested?”

Nancy hesitated as she looked over the list. She

didn’t want to alarm Madame unnecessarily. “I found

the handkerchief backstage. Near the curtain where