Authors: Carolyn G. Keene
The Triple Hoax (14 page)
“Have you heard from the police?” Nancy inquired.
“No. But I’m worried that the kidnappers may have found out I have a detective working on the case and that he has been in touch with the police. Perhaps that is the reason they haven’t returned the child. But why are they sending me fake notes?”
“Maybe they’re trying to tell you that they won’t play for real as long as you have the detective involved,” Nancy replied. “But I suggest that you not let him go just yet. What you told me about the newspaper clue only reinforces my suspicion that Dolores is here in Los Angeles. I’d like to hunt for her a little longer.”
“All right, Nancy. But please call me tomorrow and let me know if you’ve had any success.”
After Nancy had reported her findings to the Vetters and her friends, she said, “Tomorrow we’ll call on Mr. Browne who buys the fern stationery. Mr. Vetter, where is his home located?”
“It’s in an area of very expensive houses with large grounds. Many of them are fenced in. You might have a hard time trying to enter.”
“I’ll take a chance,” Nancy replied with a determined set to her chin.
After dinner that evening the six young people set off to see the Hoaxters’ show. The boys walked to the corner and took a bus, while Mr. Vetter lent his car to the girls. When they arrived at the theater, it was filling rapidly. The three detectives did not see their friends.
“We’d better not look for them too hard,” George advised. “If there are any spies watching us, they may catch on to our little scheme.”
The girls sat down and studied their programs. They were surprised to see that a new act had been added to the performance.
“This is the one where the sleight of hand man works with his wife,” Bess whispered.
Soon the show started. The girls had seen it so many times that they were not particularly interested in it until Mr. Browne, alias Ronaldo Jensen, invited members of the audience to come on stage.
George said, “I hope Mrs. Browne doesn’t recognize Ned.”
He himself had had the same idea. When Ned reached the stage, the girls had a hard time to keep from laughing. He was wearing a mustache and beard!
“Ned must have rented or bought them on the way to the theater,” Bess said in a low tone.
Apparently Ned’s disguise worked. The woman gave no sign that she had ever seen the young man before. He was relieved of his wallet by the sleight of hand man without his noticing. Then it was held up for those in the audience to see, along with handbags, watches, and jewelry.
As in previous shows the articles were taken away, and their owners told to return after the performance. Later they filed into the back room behind the stage to claim their property.
The girls, meanwhile, had gone to the Vetters’ car and were already on their way home. “I hope Ned got his wallet back with the piece of paper intact,” Bess said.
“We’ll soon find out,” Nancy told her.
After the girls arrived at the Vetters’, they paced up and down the living room impatiently, waiting for the boys. Finally they walked in.
“I have it!” Ned said jubilantly. “Nancy, bring your magnetic powder!”
Nancy had already brought the small fingerprint kit she carried in her suitcase. Gingerly she removed the paper from Ned’s wallet and dusted it. Everyone held his breath. Would fingerprints show up?
19
The Young Prisoner
“The fingerprints are showing up!” George exclaimed.
The young people watched in fascination as the blank white paper revealed the ends of fingers on two hands.
“Are they the left and right hands of the same person?” Bess asked.
No one was sure. This was one thing the police would have to decide.
“Let’s go now!” George urged.
“It’s too late. We’ll have to wait until morning,” Nancy said.
After breakfast the following day it was decided that only Nancy and Ned would go to headquarters while the rest of the group helped the Vetters with various chores.
When Nancy showed the fingerprints to the chief in his office, he was impressed. “Excellent work,” he complimented her. “I’ll have these traced at once. Please wait outside in the lobby. I’ll let you know the result as soon as I can.”
Almost an hour passed before the couple were summoned back into the chief’s office. He smiled at them. “These prints belong to a wanted criminal named Sam Gambro. I’d like you to look at photographs of him and see if you can identify the man.”
An enormous book lay open on a side table. The chief explained that it contained mug shots of various people who either were or had been prisoners.
“Gambro is on this page. Can you identify him?”
Nancy gazed for several seconds at the picture under which was the name Sam Gambro. He was heavyset, dark-haired, and jowly.
Finally she shook her head. “As far as I know, I have never seen this man before. So I guess he’s not part of the Hoaxters’s group. But he could be one of the con men who work with them.”
“Possibly,” the officer replied. “In order to find out, this is what we’ll do. I’ll send a couple of detectives to the Hoaxters who, I know, are rehearsing at the theater this morning, and have my men take their fingerprints. The detectives will pose as ‘The Committee for the Protection of Entertainment in Los Angeles.’”
Nancy and Ned laughed, then went home. They told the waiting group what the chief was planning to do. All of them listened eagerly for the telephone to ring. Finally it did. Nancy answered.
“Miss Drew? This is the chief calling. The fingerprints our men brought back that belong to the sleight of hand man of the Hoaxters match those of Sam Gambro. This means he and Horace Browne are the same person.”
“But Browne doesn’t look anything like the man I saw in the photograph!” Nancy exclaimed.
“He must have had plastic surgery and lost a lot of weight,” the chief said.
“Will Browne be apprehended?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, indeed. My men are already on their way back to the theater.”
When Nancy hung up, George said she was eager to watch the sleight of hand man being arrested. “Let’s go to the theater, too,” she suggested.
The young detectives crowded into the Vetters’ car and drove off. When they arrived at the theater, they met three policemen coming out of the building.
“Where is your prisoner?” Nancy asked them.
With a chagrined look one of the officers replied, “The Hoaxters have skipped out!”
“Again!” George exclaimed.
“Yes. Not only are the performers gone, but so are all their costumes and props. They must have become suspicious when we fingerprinted them under the pretense of being ‘The Committee for the Protection of Entertainment in Los Angeles.”’
The other officer spoke up. “We’ve already alerted all squad cars in the area. I’m sure someone will sight them. They couldn’t have gone far yet.”
After the officers had driven away, Dave said, “Nancy, what’s next on the sleuthing program?”
“We’re going to Horace Browne’s house,” she replied. “Remember, I got his address from the Fern Printing Company.”
“Do you think he’ll be there?” George asked.
Nancy shrugged. “If he’s not, perhaps we can pick up a clue to where he went.”
She drove to the part of town in which Browne lived. As Mr. Vetter had told them, it was a residential area with large, attractive homes. Browne’s had a high picket fence around it, and the house could barely be seen from the outside. There was an entrance gate, but it was locked. Ned pushed the bell button, but no one answered.
Bess sighed. “What’ll we do now?”
“Let’s split up and walk around the property,” Nancy suggested. “Ned and I will go to the right. The rest of you take the left. Perhaps we can find out if someone’s home.”
Quickly the young people hurried off. Just inside the fence were high hedges, and it was impossible to look over them. After Nancy had walked around the corner and partway down one side, she said, “Ned, I want to look into the garden. Would you let me climb onto your shoulders so I can peer over the fence?”
Ned bent down. “Go ahead,” he said, holding out his interlocked hands for her to step into.
Nancy climbed to his shoulders and balanced herself on the side of the fence. She managed to look over the top and beyond the bushes and had a good view of the garden. On a patio she spotted a man reclining in a lawn chair. He was sound asleep.
Excitedly Nancy leaned down to Ned and whispered, “Sam Gambro, alias Horace Browne, alias Ronaldo Jensen, is sleeping not far away. We must capture him!”
“But how?” Ned asked.
“We’ll have to get over the fence. If I jump to the other side, can you make it on your own?”
“Sure. No problem. Go ahead. I’ll follow.”
Nancy realized that she would have to clear the bushes in order not to scratch herself badly. With determination she stepped to the top of the fence, then pushed off as far as she could. With a soft thud the girl detective landed on the lawn, unhurt.
She looked over her shoulder and saw Ned take off from the top. He jumped gracefully and in an instant came down next to her.
“Great!” she whispered.
On tiptoes they approached Horace Browne. They were about a hundred feet away, when he suddenly awakened. Turning, he spotted the couple. The next second Browne jumped from his reclining chair and sped toward the house. He vanished through a door and they heard it slam shut and lock.
The couple looked at each other. They had been so near success!
Nancy, however, was not ready to give up. She noticed another door and hurried toward it. Fortunately this one was not locked. She dashed inside with Ned at her heels.
They found themselves at the foot of a stairway. From somewhere above, they heard faint cries for help in Spanish.
“That could be Dolores!” Nancy whispered. “Come on!”
She and Ned rushed up the stairs, but halfway to the second floor, they met Mrs. Browne coming down.
“Get out of here!” she shouted. “You have no right to be in my house. I’ll call the police!”
Nancy ignored the demand. She said, “Where’s Dolores?”
The woman seemed taken aback. She did not reply. The cries of the child continued. “Let me out! Let me out!”
Ned pushed Mrs. Browne firmly aside, so that Nancy could continue up the stairs. Then he followed. The couple scooted upward faster than the woman could climb. They crossed the second floor hallway and followed the cries for help to the third floor.
“Help! I want to see my mommy!” came another pleading cry.
Ned glanced back to see what Mrs. Browne was doing. She seemed undecided for a moment, then started up after the couple.
At the top of the stairway, there was a narrow hallway with a door opposite the stairs. Quickly Nancy pulled on the knob, and they looked inside.
She and Ned stood appalled at what they saw. A beautiful, dark-haired little girl of nine sat on the edge of a bed, her left ankle chained to one of its front legs!
“Dolores!” Nancy cried out and rushed to the child’s side. “We’re friends. We came to rescue you. We’ll have you out of here in a minute!”
As she hugged the little girl, and Ned sped over to help unclamp the chain, the door was slammed shut and locked. Something heavy was pushed against it.
Ned turned back and tried to open the door. It would not budge. Now not only Dolores but he and Nancy were prisoners also!
Little Dolores became hysterical. Her few moments of joy at having been rescued were gone. She was a prisoner again!
Nancy tried to soothe her and even sang a little Spanish lullaby she knew. Ned, meanwhile, was working at the locked door. Unable to budge it, he rammed his body against the wood, hoping to splinter one of the panels. His efforts were in vain!
Finally he walked over to Nancy and they conferred on what to do. There was a tiny window high up on the wall that opened on hinges. They both knew that though one of them might crawl through it, there was no way to reach the ground safely.
“I wonder what became of Bess, George, Burt, and Dave,” Nancy said. “I hope they’ll find a way to rescue us!”
Dolores had become quiet now. She sat on Nancy’s lap and clung to her. The young detective said, “Suppose you tell me how you got here.”
“I stayed in school late to help my teacher,” the little girl replied. “When I came out, all my friends had gone. A strange woman walked up to me and said, ‘Are you Dolores?’ When I said yes, she told me that my mother was ill and had asked her to bring me home in her car.”
“So you climbed in?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, in the back seat with the woman. A man was driving. I did not know who these people were. Later I found out they were Mr. and Mrs. Browne. Mrs. Browne offered me a piece of candy.”
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