Read The Scarlet Slipper Mystery Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
Tags: #Art Thieves, #Jewel Thieves, #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Dance Schools, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Adventures and Adventurers, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #Mystery & Detective Stories, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #General, #Smuggling, #Mystery and Detective Stories
The Scarlet Slipper Mystery (9 page)
Johann Koff was watching Nancy intently!
Nancy stuffed the three letters into her handbag and went outside. Mr. Koff had not moved. Before she could speak, he smiled pleasantly.
“How are you?” he asked. “I just happened to see you crossing the street, and waited to speak to you.”
The man explained that he and Millie had just returned to the Claymore after stopping overnight on the way back from the Cliffwood. He wondered whether there was any news on his case.
Nancy, taken aback, could not feel sure about the man. “Have you received any more threatening messages from Mr. Judson?” she asked.
“No. Perhaps that letter I sent about retaining your father on the case reached Mr. Judson and discouraged him from suing me.”
Nancy, still slightly suspicious, asked, “Are Renee and Amien friends of yours?”
“I never heard of them.” Suddenly Mr. Koff laughed. “Miss Detective, were you trying to trap me? Are these men enemies of the Centrovian underground?”
As Nancy merely smiled and did not reply, he added, “I have heard nothing concerning my own briefcase. I am terribly worried.”
“I wish I could help locate it,” Nancy said. “And I’ll tell Dad I saw you.”
Joining her friends in the car, Nancy learned that no other suspicious characters had been spotted in the
Gazette
building. The young detective asked Bess to take the wheel so she could read the answers to the ad.
Gazette
building. The young detective asked Bess to take the wheel so she could read the answers to the ad.
As they drove off, Nancy laid two of the letters on her lap. She opened the third. As she spread the sheet, both she and George gasped in astonishment.
“What is it?” Bess demanded, stopping for a traffic light.
Nancy held up the paper for her to read. On it had been sketched the familiar scarlet slipper insigne. In printed letters, similar to those on the note received by the Fontaines, were the words:
STOP YOUR DETECTIVE WORK AT ONCE OR YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF IN GRAVE PERIL!
CHAPTER XI
Signs of Tampering
BESS did not pull ahead when the traffic light turned green. She was too shaken by the threatening message Nancy had just received.
Horns began to sound and George urged, “Move, Bess!”
Bess drove on, then said worriedly, “Whoever wrote that note means business, Nancy. Oh, please give up the case before you run into real trouble.”
“This doesn’t scare me,” Nancy declared. “Writers of anonymous notes are always cowards, and I don’t intend to be frightened by one!”
Bess turned to George for moral support, but her cousin agreed with Nancy. She suggested that her friend open the other two notes.
“Oh, I hope they’re not the same kind!” Bess
said fearfully.
said fearfully.
Nancy quickly examined the two answers and reassured her friends. One letter offered a painting that obviously was not one of the group Henri had painted. But the other note, which had been telephoned in, looked. like a lead.
It was from the Elite Dancing School in Stanford, and described an oil painting the school was willing to sell. It depicted a ballet dancer in pink-and-white tulle, with an indistinct background of trees.
“That’s just the way Henri described the background to me,” said Nancy excitedly.
“Let’s go right over to Stanford and look at it!” George urged.
“But we can’t do that,” Bess broke in. “Nancy and I have classes at the dancing school.”
“Bess is right,” said Nancy. “We’ll go tomorrow morning.”
When the girls arrived at the school, George left the others, arranging to meet them at nine the next day.
Bess had the first group of young ballerinas, Nancy the second. Both girls carried on with their usual enthusiasm but were surprised at the small attendance in the classes. More than half the pupils were absent.
“This is very strange,” Nancy thought. “I wonder what the trouble is.”
She made a list of the absentees and began telephoning their parents. Nancy explained to those she reached that she was sure the Fontaines would return soon to resume teaching.
In her conversations with the various mothers, Nancy noticed a reluctance to discuss the subject. Finally she talked to Mrs. Muller, a neighbor, and asked, “Has anyone been in touch with you regarding the Fontaines?”
“How did you know?” the woman said in surprise.
“Maybe it’s my instinct,” Nancy replied with a chuckle. “Just what have you heard?”
Mrs. Muller told her that several mothers, including her, had received anonymous letters informing them that the Fontaines had disappeared because they were wanted by the police. The letters indicated that the dancers were involved in a serious scandal, which would reflect on the children if they continued at the school.
“How wicked!” Nancy exclaimed. “Mrs. Muller, there isn’t one word of truth in that story!”
“How can you be sure?” the woman asked.
“Because my father is handling the affairs of the Fontaines and knows all about their dealings. I’m sure you realize that I wouldn’t be involved with them if anything dishonest were going on. My friends and I have worked hard to keep the school running, and naturally our success depends upon the cooperation of the parents. Won’t you please allow your little girl to continue her lessons?”
Mrs. Muller finally agreed to send her child back. She suggested that Nancy call the other mothers and reassure them there was no truth to the letters. Nancy got busy on the telephone at once, explaining the situation to the women. They promised to allow their children to continue dancing lessons.
“Well, that’s cleared up,” Nancy said to Bess with a sigh of relief as she finished talking to the last person on the list. “They’ll go along with the present arrangement.”
“Thank goodness!” Bess said. But in a whisper she added, “Nancy, do you think there might be any basis for the idea that the Fontaines are wanted by the authorities?”
“I can’t believe it,” Nancy insisted. “And besides, I wouldn’t take the word of anyone who is afraid to sign his name to a letter.”
“Nor I,” said Bess stoutly.
The next morning, she and George arrived at Nancy’s house, and the three girls set off in the convertible. They reached Stanford a little after eleven o’clock and had no difficulty finding the Elite Dancing School.
Nancy went in alone and identified herself as the advertiser in the
Gazette.
The owner, Mr. Harlan, brought out the painting of the ballet dancer.
Gazette.
The owner, Mr. Harlan, brought out the painting of the ballet dancer.
It was indeed a portrait of Helene and she was wearing the scarlet slippers!
“I bought this picture about six months ago,” Mr. Harlan told Nancy. “It’s very pleasing, but I’m remodeling and will have no room for it. I’d be willing to sell it to you for a small profit.”
Trying hard not to show her elation, she asked the price.
“Thirty-five dollars,” the Elite owner replied.
“I’ll buy the picture,” Nancy said. She opened her purse and paid him.
Nancy recalled the price Renee had paid Henri for the work. It was many times that amount. She was curious about the person from whom Mr. Harlan had bought the painting.
“Would you mind telling me who sold you the painting?” she asked.
“Not at all, but six months is a long time to remember details. A man with reddish hair came into the school and offered me the picture. The price was right, so I bought it.”
Reddish hair, Nancy thought. This did not fit Judson or Warte, who had fraudulently sold the bisque dolls, or Renee, but one of them might have been wearing a wig!
“Did the man have a foreign accent?” she said. “And did he give his name?”
“No,” Mr. Harlan answered to both questions. “Is something the matter with the painting?”
“Certainly not,” said Nancy quickly. “But it isn’t signed and I wondered if the man had claimed to be the artist.”
“I think not,” Mr. Harlan answered.
“Thank you,” Nancy said, and bidding him good-by, she carried the picture to the car. Bess and George exclaimed in delight and examined the portrait while Nancy took the wheel.
“It’s a wonderful likeness of Helene,” said Bess. “How did the Elite School get the painting?”
Nancy explained and then said, “I want to make sure this is the original. I’ll take the painting to Henri and Helene.”
“Perhaps they’ll be able to identify the red-haired man,” George suggested.
The girls stopped for a quick lunch and then went on to Cedar Lake. When they arrived and presented the canvas, the Fontaines were overwhelmed.
“Oh, Nancy, how did you ever find it?” Helene exclaimed. “You are so wonderful!”
“Indeed you are,” Henri echoed. “Please tell us everything quickly.”
“First, Henri, tell me whether this is the portrait you painted,” Nancy requested, “or a copy of it?”
After an examination in a strong light, the artist declared it was his original work.
“But someone has tampered with the picture!” he declared. “The original paint in several spots has been removed, and replaced with new pigment.”
The girls, amazed, looked at the areas of thickly applied impasto that the artist pointed out.
Instantly Nancy remembered the palette knife Judson had dropped at her house. Was he the one who had tampered with the painting? And if so, why?
CHAPTER XII
A Rewarding Hunt
HENRI Fontaine was excited and concerned about the portrait of his sister that had been tampered with.
“It spoils the whole outline of the ruffle, and look what it does to the toe of the slipper,” he said. “A botch!”
“Only an expert would know that,” George stated. “I think it’s a lovely painting.”
“It’s beautiful,” Bess said. “And it looks so real, Helene. Just like you.”
But the cousins’ remarks failed to mollify the Fontaines. “Someone ruined this painting,” said Henri angrily. “But why? Why?”
“Perhaps the paint was used to cover something that was smuggled into the country,” Nancy said. “A message, an important chemical formula, or even jewels.”
Bess looked skeptical. “How could jewels be hidden in paint?”
Before Nancy could answer, Henri cried excitedly, “Of course they could! I’ll show you.”
His eyes roved over the outfit each of the three girls was wearing. Finally his glance settled on a novelty pin Bess wore on her blouse.
“May I use this for an experiment?” he asked. “I’ll be glad to pay for it.”
“That’s not necessary,” said Bess, handing him the pin. “It’s just a piece of inexpensive costume jewelry.”
Immediately the young artist started prying loose the settings and took out several of the stones. They were of various sizes, the largest equal to a two-carat diamond.
Henri got a tube of green pigment and squeezed some of it onto a palette. Then he slowly rolled one of the stones around in the paint. When it was completely covered, the artist secreted the mass among the leaves of one of the trees on the canvas. It melted into the background as if it had always been there!
“Why, that’s wonderful,” Bess said.
Next Henri imbedded several stones into the dancer’s frilly tutu. Finally the young man concealed a stone in the toe of one of the scarlet slippers.
“Remarkable,” said Helene. “No one would detect this strange addition to my portrait. Nancy, what does this mean?”
“It’s my hunch that a smuggler brought jewels into the United States this way. It is more clever than hiding them in the frame because that would show up in an x-ray, while this method wouldn’t. It looks as though Henri’s paintings were ordered for the purpose of smuggling. You use the impasto technique, Henri, and that’s just what was needed for hiding the jewels.”
Henri examined every speck of the old pigment for anything that might still be in it but found nothing.
“Have you any idea about the identity of the smuggler?” Helene asked Nancy.
“Yes,” the girl detective answered. “It would explain why Mr. Judson, who isn’t an artist, carries a palette knife. As I told my father, I strongly suspect he’s really Raoul Amien. What I don’t know is how Amien got the painting from Renee and whether Renee is involved in the smuggling.”
“If the police want Renee,” said George, “he probably is involved. Well, where does the trail take us now?”
To everyone’s complete astonishment, Nancy laughed and said, “Into the lake. I’m so warm I can’t resist a swim. Does anybody want to join me?”
“In these clothes?” Bess exclaimed.
Nancy announced that during the summer she always carried a bathing suit in the trunk of the convertible and right now she had two with her. Helene had an extra one, so the whole group spent an enjoyable half hour swimming in Cedar Lake.
Later, when Nancy was driving home with Bess and George, she remarked, “Maybe all twelve paintings were used by smugglers. Since the one with the scarlet slippers was sold to a dancing school in this part of the country, some of the others may have been, too. Let’s check!”
The girls decided to meet at the Drew home in the morning and take turns telephoning ballet-dancing schools in the state. By the time the cousins arrived, Nancy had a list of fifty. They divided the work and began telephoning.
About halfway through the names George, who was at the telephone, smiled broadly and bobbed her head at the other girls. Into the mouthpiece she said, “Thank you very much. We’ll be over to look at it.” She replaced the telephone, then said to Nancy and Bess, “One of the pictures is in Harwich. It was sold to the dance studio by a red-haired man.”
“Oh, that’s marvelous!” said Nancy.
“But Harwich!” Bess exclaimed. “That’s almost two hundred miles from River Heights.”
“What’s two hundred miles?” Nancy asked. “We’ll pack overnight bags and make a real trip out of it—that is, if we can leave our own school that long.”
Bess offered to forego the trip and take Nancy’s class that afternoon, but the others insisted that she go with them. Finally she arranged with the dancing instructor at a private school in town to conduct the classes.
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