The Swami's Ring (3 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Keene

BOOK: The Swami's Ring
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“You caught two robbers, found three clues, and went to see Chief McGinnis,” Hannah replied, unable to keep from smiling.
“How did you guess?”
“Because I know you. That’s how.” The housekeeper grinned.
Before Nancy said another word, she raced upstairs to freshen up. The aroma of home-baked peach pie trailed after her, speeding her back to the dining room table where her father was already seated.
“Do I have lots of news!” Nancy said excitedly.
Carson Drew, a distinguished-looking man in his forties, did not respond immediately. Nancy thought he seemed disturbed.
“Is something wrong, Dad?”
“Oh, no,” he answered quickly.
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
“I really am sorry about being late.”
Her father merely nodded as he took a sip of water. “Bring me up to date on what happened today,” he said at last.
Despite her eagerness to tell him, she could not help being distracted by Mr. Drew’s sullen manner. Nonetheless, she revealed her encounters at the hospital, the discovery of the ring, and Tommy Johnson’s accident.
“How terrible!” Hannah commented when the girl finished speaking.
For the first time since dinner began, Mr. Drew’s expression was also animated. He asked several questions, then lapsed into silence until he rose from the table.
“Let’s go into the living room, Nancy,” he said.
What was on her father’s mind? Nancy wondered in puzzlement. She sank into the deep, soft cushions of the chair by the fireplace and waited anxiously.
“I really don’t know how to say this,” Mr. Drew said slowly.
“Does it have to do with the music festival?”
“In a way, yes.” Her father paused. “You’ll have to stop doing your detective work for a while.”
Nancy blinked in disbelief. “But why? What have I done?”
“Oh, you haven’t done anything wrong. The townspeople of Castleton think
I
have.”
“You’ve lost me, Dad.”
“As I told you yesterday, I’ve been handling negotiations for the River Heights festival on behalf of River Heights.”
“Negotiations between the city and the different performing groups who are appearing here this summer,” Nancy put in.
“That’s right,” her father replied. “Well, I’ve been accused of theft.”
“Theft?” Nancy repeated in utter astonishment. “That’s absolutely crazy.”
“Castleton claims that River Heights has deliberately stolen one of the theater companies it booked for its own outdoor pavilion.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“It’s very simple, dear. The Jansen Music Theater Company was scheduled to perform at the Castleton Theater, but Jansen canceled out on Castleton in favor of River Heights. The town council of Castleton thinks I’m responsible for the last-minute switch.” Mr. Drew interrupted himself, laughing nervously. “It just isn’t true, but I can’t seem to convince anyone, including the mayor of River Heights!”
“But he’s your friend, Dad.”
“He is, but he’s also in an awkward situation with Castleton, since both communities have been working together on some environmental issues.”
Nancy took a deep breath. “I’ll help you,” she said.
“No, Nancy, I think it’s better if you don’t. A number of unexplained things have happened to the Jansen troupe, and I’m afraid something could happen to you.”
“You know I can take care of myself,” Nancy pleaded.
“I would feel better if you just contented yourself with the amnesia patient.”
The firmness in his voice told Nancy she ought not to push him on the subject.
It’s the first time Dad has ever told me to quit on something before I even started, Nancy said to herself.
Worse than that, her own father needed her help, but would not accept it!
4
Suspect?
“Nancy, I don’t want you to worry about me or the festival,” Mr. Drew said.
“But Dad—”
He raised his hand as if he didn’t want to hear another word.
“I have two complimentary tickets to the festival tomorrow evening. Perhaps you’d like to take Ned.”
Nancy’s face lit up into a smile immediately.
“Promise me, though, you’ll just enjoy the performance. No investigating, okay?”
“Whatever you say, Dad.”
She leaped out of her chair to call her friend, Ned Nickerson, who was home on vacation from Emerson College. At first Nancy was tempted to mention her father’s predicament, but she refrained as Mr. Drew strode past her.
Instead, she conveyed the invitation, adding in a whisper, “I have a lot to tell you, too.”
“In that case,” Ned said, “how can I resist?”
It was decided that he would stop by for Nancy at seven-thirty the next evening. In the meantime, she had several things to discuss with Bess and George.
“Hello. Is George there?” Nancy said, after dialing the number of the Fayne household.
To her surprise, the girl was not home.
Maybe she went to see Bess, Nancy surmised. She was about to call the Marvin number when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Nancy announced, dropping the receiver.
It was the two cousins.
“When we didn’t hear from you, we figured something must’ve happened,” Bess said.
“Right?” George asked.
“Right,” Nancy said. “Come on in.”
While she cut pieces of Hannah’s peach pie for each girl, she told them everything that had occurred after they left Rosemont Hospital.
“Fortunately, I still have Cliffs ring,” Nancy concluded, excusing herself to get it.
When she returned to the kitchen, she was also holding her magnifying glass. The trio took turns examining the ring. On close inspection, they saw that the intricate design consisted of finely intertwined water lilies. Inside the band was a well-worn initial, together with an indistinct figure standing on a flower. To the untrained eye, they could pass for mere scratches.
“I can’t figure out what the letter is,” Bess said. “Can you?”
“I’m not sure, but it looks like ‘P,’ ” Nancy said. “Lisa said Mr. Jhaveri was about to show her a book when the businessman took the ring.”
“Maybe we should go to the store tomorrow,” George suggested.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Nancy said.
That night, Nancy slept uneasily as the ring tossed through her dreams. Someone on the stage of the River Heights Theater was throwing it toward her, but she couldn’t catch it because of an imaginary rope that held her arms back.
 
“Nancy ... Nancy,” a voice was calling.
The girl mumbled back into her pillow as the shade on her window snapped open and sunlight poured across the room.
“Nancy, dear, it’s after nine.”
The young detective pulled the bedsheet over her head while Hannah tickled her foot.
“Time to rise and shine. Bess and George are waiting for you downstairs.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Nancy cried, bolting out of bed. “They’re here already?”
After a quick shower, she slipped into a skirt and blouse, put Cliff’s ring in her shoulder bag, and hurried to the dining room, where a glass of orange juice awaited her.
“Didn’t we say nine o‘clock?” George asked.
Nancy nodded. “I overslept,” she said, gulping down the juice.
“Don’t drink so fast, Nancy,” Hannah scolded. “You’ll get indigestion.”
Despite the warning, Nancy hurried through breakfast, explaining that she had several things to do.
“I promised to be at the hospital for a couple of hours at least,” she said. “Now that I’m running so late, maybe you ought to see Mr. Jhaveri without me.”
“Are you sure?” Bess asked.
“Yes. Besides, I want to check on how Tommy is and make a few inquiries at the hospital.”
“What about the ring?” George replied. “Shall we take it with us?”
“Definitely,” Nancy said. “When you’re done at the store, then please bring it to Rosemont.”
While Nancy headed for the hospital, Bess and George went downtown. To their delight, Mr. Jhaveri remembered the unusual ring and was more than willing to discuss it.
“I didn’t have a chance to show my book to your friend,” he said, “but I will show it to you. Do you have time?”
“Oh yes,” George replied eagerly.
“I will only be a moment,” the proprietor said, disappearing into the anteroom behind the main counter.
For an instant, the cousins sensed that someone was watching them, but when they glanced toward the front window, no one was there.
“We’re just being overly suspicious,” Bess whispered.
Mr. Jhaveri returned holding a large book. “There are many wonderful stories in here about unusual pieces of jewelry and their owners.” He leafed through the pages, stopping now and then to show photographs of fantastic jewels—rubies, diamonds, and emeralds cut in various shapes.
“Ah, here it is,” he said at last. “The Maharajah Prithviraj of Lakshmipur.”
Bess and George giggled as they looked at the roly-poly man whose face was as round as Hannah’s peach pie. He wore a loose-fitting robe that concealed his rotund figure, and on every finger except one was an exquisite ring.
“It seems that the maharajah had a passion for water lilies,” Mr. Jhaveri said. “They grew profusely in his garden pool—”
“And decorated his linen, silver, and jewelry,” Bess said, reading the caption under the picture.
Was it possible that Cliffs ring had once belonged to the maharajah? the girls wondered. But, if so, how had it traveled from India to the United States?
The bell on the front door jingled suddenly, and the girls stared at the bearded man who entered. Was he the same person Nancy had chased out of Rosemont Hospital?
George quickly dropped the ring into her purse and shut the book.
“Are you finished with it?” Mr. Jhaveri asked politely.
“Yes, thank you,” George said, trying to conceal her nervousness. She nudged Bess to leave. “We must be on our way, but I’m sure we’ll be back.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” the bearded customer said. “I’m just browsing.”
The girls did not bother to reply, but hurried to their car.
“Maybe we should’ve stayed around to check that guy out,” Bess said.
“And risk having him hear something about the ring?” George replied. “No, ma‘am.”
She started the car, then noticed that the jeweler had emerged from his store. The bearded man was with him.
“Don’t go yet, miss!” Mr. Jhaveri was shouting at the girls. “Please—come back!”
“What should we do?” Bess gasped. Her heart pounded nervously as the stranger raced toward them.
5
Untimely Ruse
“I’m positive that man is after Cliffs ring!” Bess exclaimed fearfully.
“Just keep cool,” George said, turning off the ignition.
By now, the bearded man was standing next to the girl’s car.
“I am Dr. DeNiro, the anthropologist,” he introduced himself.
George recognized the name immediately. Dr. DeNiro was a professor at Oberon College, a local university and had recently returned from field work in Asia. An article about him had appeared in the last issue of the
River Heights Gazette.
“I’m George Fayne, and this is my cousin, Bess Marvin,” George said.
“How do you do?”
Bess smiled sweetly, lifting her eyes to the thin, almost invisible scar that traveled down the man’s cheek and disappeared under the ragged beard.
“We’re sort of in a hurry,” George said.
“Well, I don’t want to hold you up, but—uh,” the man stumbled, “I am interested in the ring you showed Mr. Jhaveri.”
The cousins remained silent, waiting for him to go on.
“May I see it?” Dr. DeNiro said.
George hesitated, then dug into her purse, as earlier suspicions were replaced by curiosity. Perhaps the professor could provide some clues to Cliffs identity!
“Here you are,” the girl said, handing the ring to him.
He studied it intently, turning it over several times.
“I have been doing some research on the area of India where this was made,” the man said. “With your permission, I would like to photograph the ring. May I?”
“It doesn’t belong to us,” Bess replied.
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, could you put me in touch with the owner?”
The girls paused.
“Perhaps you could give me his name and telephone number,” Dr. DeNiro continued.
“He’s in the hospital,” George said. Her mind was racing as it occurred to her that Nancy might wish to speak with the professor as well. “We’re on our way to Rosemont Hospital now. Would you like to ride over there with us?”
The man checked his watch. “Oh,” he gasped, “I’m twenty minutes late for my appointment. I’ll have to call you.”
With that, he sped across the street to a parking lot, leaving the girls in complete baffle ment.

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