The Sinister Omen

by Carolyn Keene

  "Why does Stroessner put up with him?" Nancy asked.

  "Because McConnell saved his life once. Stroessner was almost executed in one of the smaller Latin American countries after helping to organize a revolution. McConnell got him out of jail and flew him to the United States. So Stroessner is stuck with Mac."

  "And McConnell pulled this kidnapping?" George asked.

  "Yes. But I don't think we'll see him around too much longer. There's a limit to Stroessner's gratitude." Señor Segovia went on to describe how Stroessner had built up a criminal empire and had directed the theft of many major stamp collections in the world. He had thrown the stamp market into absolute chaos, for not only had he begun to dispose of the stamps at extremely high prices, but word had leaked out that he was planning to counterfeit the most valuable of his stolen property.

  "If the counterfeiting proves as good as the other schemes he has had, there is simply no doubt that the market will be destroyed,'' Señor Segovia declared. "No one will know whether he's buying a real stamp or a phony one."

  "The losses now are running toward the billion-dollar mark," Mr. Drew said. "The latest stamp that was stolen was a heretofore unknown copy of the Penny Black, issued in the nineteenth century by what was then the British colony of Guiana."

  "You mean, no one realized this stamp existed?" Nancy asked.

  "That's right. The only known copy was in the hands of a wealthy collector. Then another one was found in an ordinary stamp album in Buenos Aires, stashed away in someone's attic for a long time. After its discovery, only a few days passed until the stamp was stolen by two armed men making their getaway in a helicopter. This, of course, was a great shock to all philatelists—as stamp collectors are called. We feel that Stroessner's gang was involved."

  "Why has Stroessner made his headquarters in southern Florida?" Nancy asked.

  Señor Segovia spread his hands. "Since the very earliest days of the first Spanish explorers, Florida has been recognized as a paradise for smugglers. The long coastline, indented by bays and rivers and streams and with lots of islands and hundreds of square miles of swamps and wilderness, it's one of the toughest areas for customs and border patrol people to cover."

  "Smugglers come in by sea, by land, under the sea, and by air," Carson Drew added. "It's very difficult to catch them."

  "What is Stroessner's so-called legitimate business?" Nancy inquired.

  "He's a stamp dealer," Señor Segovia replied. "He has a very thorough knowledge of the trade, and contacts all over the world. He knows who owns what, and where the most valuable collections are. That's why we have to get him. We have to find him standing there with the evidence in his hands, so to speak. With a man as tricky and careful as Stroessner, that's very hard."

  "There are two ways to do it," Mr. Drew spoke up. "Either we catch him with the evi-

  dence, which is possible but extremely difficult to accomplish, or we capture one or two of his top men and use their testimony against him. We have to try both ways."

  "What about the counterfeiting?" Nancy asked. "Why and how is he going to do that?"

  "Well," Señor Segovia replied, "as to why he's doing it, the answer is, very quick money. He could duplicate, let's say, the fifty most valuable stamps in the world and make twenty of each. Then he could put them on sale in hundreds of cities all over the globe on the same day."

  "Before the stamp collectors have time to check with one another and compare," Nancy added.

  "Exactly. By the time anyone knows that there's something wrong, he runs off with millions of dollars and thousands of collectors are cheated."

  ''Do you know whether he has started the counterfeiting already?" Nancy asked. Carson Drew smiled as he saw a familiar sparkle in her blue eyes. He knew it meant that she was hooked on a mystery.

  "No," Señor Segovia replied. "We don't think he has started. We know the equipment has been moved into Florida. But he doesn't have a top man yet to do the work. We have police all over the world keeping tight checks on all leading counterfeiters who aren't in jail. The minute one of them disappears, it may mean he has started working for Stroessner. We must break up this ring before that happens."

  ''Where is the gang's headquarters?" Nancy asked.

  "We don't know. We do know Stroessner is living in a fine house in Fort Lauderdale, telling the government that he's just a legitimate stamp dealer."

  ''That's right," Mr. Drew added. "From time to time, he even has the nerve to wave to Señor Segovia across a crowded restaurant table or to send a bottle of wine to the Segovia table with an insulting note attached."

  Further questions from the girls brought them no additional information, so they finally decided to go to bed. As Nancy started up the stairs for her bedroom, she was interrupted by the maid carrying a telephone.

  "For me?" Nancy asked, surprised.

  The maid nodded, and the girl took the receiver hesitantly, glancing at Señor Segovia, who put his finger to his lips as he waved to Mr. Drew and they went to pick up an extension.

  "Hello, my foot!" came a strong but obviously aged female voice on the other end of the hne. "What's going on, Nancy Drew? You've been in this city for quite a while and you haven't called me."

  "Mrs. Palmer?" Nancy cried. ''Oh, I'm so sorry. I—"

  "Sorry, my bumbershoot. When I hire a detective, I expect her to be on the job right away. This is an outrage! I don't believe Carson ever took a switch to you!"

  "But my father was kidnapped," Nancy blurted, knowing no other way to stop the tide of words coming over the phone.

  "Kidnapped! It's bad enough you're late. If you can't keep your own father from being kidnapped, what kind of a detective are you? You're not too old to spank, you know. I'll expect you here at seven o'clock tomorrow morning. Sharp."

  "Seven o'clock!"

  "Good night. Miss Drew. And bring your magnifying glass or whatever you detectives use. "

  Nancy heard a click and she sank against the wall.

  "Phew," she exclaimed and looked at Señor Segovia and her father, who came up to her after having listened to every word. "I think that I've just met my toughest client yet!''

  Mr. Drew chuckled. ''She's really a very nice lady," he said. ''You'll like her once you get to know her."

  "I hope so," the girl murmured as she went off to bed.

  Nancy slept soundly, without dreams or nightmares. Finally, she awoke to the sounds of laughter in the pool area beneath her windows.

  She lay for a moment, stretching luxuriously under the lovely pink sheets. Voices drifted to her but she was still too sleepy to recognize them. Then, pulling her knees up she made the effort and got out of bed. She looked out the window and noticed the boys frolicking with Bess and George.

  The boys! What were they doing here already? Nancy wondered. Then a terrible thought struck her. She looked at her watch.

  "Ten o'clock!" she cried out loud. "And I was supposed to be at Mrs. Palmer's at seven! The maid forgot to wake me up!"

  11. Puzzling Burglaries

  Quickly, Nancy got dressed and hurried out to the patio where Carson Drew and Señor Segovia lounged over their breakfast.

  "Dad!" she cried. "Tm late for Mrs. Palmer!"

  Carson Drew laughed, took his daughter's hand, and pulled her into a chair beside him. "Relax, Nancy. I called her this morning and told her what happened last night. I said you were exhausted and would be over later."

  "Wow!" Nancy fell back in her chair. "Thanks, Dad. I wouldn't want to upset her a second time. Once was enough. But what are the boys doing here? When did they get in?"

  "They had an exciting adventure, those young men," Señor Segovia replied. "Perhaps they'd better tell you themselves. Here they come."

  Her friends, having seen her at last, ran whooping and yelling from the pool, all of them dripping with water.

  ''Ned,'' Nancy asked, "what happened?"

  "Oh, we had a problem. After we left you, we got as far as central New Jersey. Then Dav
e said he wanted to stop at this terrific little farm right off the highway, where they sold great fruit."

  "Yes," Burt added, "and soon we were in mud up to our axles. It took us four hours to get a tow truck to pull us out. In fact, the first truck they sent also got stuck, and the second one had to rescue both of us."

  "Then," Dave put in, "by the time we got to Washington, the poor old Land Rover decided to call it quits. It stopped running, because the transmission was ruined. The only thing we could do was leave the car in a repair shop and climb on a plane. We got the first flight out this morning and arrived here before anyone was up.

  "Sounds perfectly reasonable." Nancy giggled. "I bet you're sorry now that you were bragging so about beating us!"

  ''Sorry. Humble. Apologetic" Ned said, and the three boys bowed their heads as the girls laughed.

  "Hey, come on into the pool, Nancy, it's terrific," Ned invited.

  "I will," she said, "later."

  Her friends ran back to the water as Nancy ate her breakfast and thought about the smugglers. She suddenly recalled something she and her father had not talked about before.

  ''The Brotherhood of the Vulture," she mused. ''Remember, Dad, those crooks talking about the Brotherhood of the Vulture last night?"

  Señor Segovia frowned and stirred his coffee. Then he looked at Carson Drew. The attorney sighed and nodded. "Yes, my captors mentioned it, so I suppose we should discuss it. Ricardo, would you like to explain?"

  Señor Segovia rubbed his chin. "Well, Nancy," he said, "the Brotherhood of the Vulture is a criminal organization that has sprung up in Latin America. Actually, it's a revival of a group that existed more than a century ago and then disappeared. Apparently, some modern crooks have decided to start it again."

  "And is Stroessner involved with it?" Nancy asked.

  "Yes" Señor Segovia replied. ''We don't know whether he's the head or just one of the more powerful bosses, but we do know he's part of it."

  He fell silent. Nancy looked from him to her father. "Don't you want to tell me more?" she asked.

  ''We don't know any more, " Mr. Drew replied.

  ''Do they have a symbol that looks like a great bird with its wings partly folded?"

  "Yes," her father answered. "How did you know?"

  "Because," Nancy said, "I had a terrible dream the night before we left that a great, black bird was chasing me through Fort Lauderdale. Then, the man who sabotaged our airplane must have stuck one of them on our plane."

  "You didn't tell me someone sabotaged your plane!" her father exclaimed. "When you called, all you mentioned was that there was some trouble. I thought you were talking about a mechanical failure!"

  "Well, it turned out that it wasn't. Someone drained half the gas out of our tank before we left. We had to land in the water off the coast of South Carolina with a dead stick. Fred Blaine came out and rescued us. I didn't have a chance to tell you because you got yourself kidnapped, Dad."

  Carson Drew heaved a sigh of relief. "At least your luck held and Fm grateful for that."

  Señor Segovia added ''I haven't had time to tell you either, Carson, that the vulture symbol appeared on the inside roof of the limousine I sent for Nancy. My driver tore it off but not before it frightened the girls, Tm sorry to say."

  "What does it mean," Nancy asked, "when they put the symbol on things like that?"

  "I think it's a scare tactic," her father replied. "Possibly, they're trying to get to me through you."

  Nancy nodded. "Perhaps they figure if we get worried about the black buzzard, we won't have our minds on catching the gang at their dirty work."

  Bess and George ran up at that moment. "Hey, are you going to eat all morning?" George asked. "We need help if we're having another water fight with these three monsters." She pointed to the boys.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," Nancy said. "But I have to go see Mrs. Palmer. You want to come?"

  "Sure," George said. "If we stay here, those guys are going to drown us anyway."

  When the girls broke the news to the boys, they offered to go along. But Señor Segovia suggested that they might like to spend the rest of the morning taking his yacht out through the canal onto the ocean. Ned, Dave, and Burt quickly agreed after their friends assured them they weren't needed at Mrs. Palmer's, and with a few shouted good-byes, hurried down to the dock.

  "Well!" Bess said with an exaggerated flounce of the wraparound skirt she had just put on. "If rd known they'd be so heartbroken about us leaving, I wouldn't have agreed to go."

  Nancy and George burst into laughter. "That shows how much we count, doesn't it?" George said as they followed the chauffeur Andre, who this time led them to a light blue limousine instead of the gray one. He was more relaxed now that Mr. Drew had been found, but he drove too slowly and carefully for the girls, who were bursting to see Mrs. Palmer's house and the strange and somewhat intimidating old woman who lived there.

  When Andre finally pulled up and got out to open the door, the girls leaned forward to stare at the place. There it stood, ominous, gloomy, and three stories high with two turrets. It was surely full of big, impressive rooms, winding staircases, and strange creaking sounds.

  "Brrr—" Bess said, hugging herself with her arms as if she had a chill. ''I wouldn't want to spend the night alone in there."

  ''Me neither,'' George agreed. "But not because I'd be afraid. It's just that I've gotten used to greater luxury at Señor Segovia's!"

  The girls laughed, then Nancy led her friends along the concrete walk up the five big steps to the front porch. She grabbed the large door knocker and let it go. The resulting boom reverberated so loudly that it made Bess jump. But she smiled as soon as Susan McAfee appeared to welcome the trio. 'Tm so relieved you got here," she said.

  "I wish I felt relieved." Nancy chuckled. "Is Mrs. Palmer ready?"

  "Yes. And don't worry, she won't bite."

  The girls followed Miss McAfee's clickety-clacking high heels through a parlor decorated entirely in mauve into a huge, old-fashioned kitchen.

  "Would you like some tea or soda?" Susan asked. "Mrs. Palmer will be right with you."

  The girls declined, and chatted with Susan for a few moments.

  "Perhaps you think it unusual that Mrs. Palmer is greeting you in her kitchen instead of one of the more formal rooms" Susan McAfee said.

  ''Yes" Bess replied. ''I was wondering about that.''

  "Well, this means you're 'in.' You're practically family when she invites you into her kitchen. Why, she . . ."

  ''That's enough of that, Susan!"

  All four girls jumped at the sound of the voice from the doorway. Wheeling around, they saw Mrs. Palmer, erect and regal with her gray hair piled high on her head in great swirls.

  Though Bess's heart went into her mouth, she was so impressed by the old lady that she almost curtsied as one would before a queen.

  "Oh, Mrs. Palmer," Susan cried, her cheeks reddening.

  "For goodness sake, don't look as if you're going to be executed. I don't mind your telling the girls that the kitchen is my sanctum and only the best people ever enter it. There now, you must feel honored and delighted and all that sort of rubbish. Aha . . ."

  She peered from Bess to George, then her eyes fastened on Nancy. "I need glasses to read but I don't need them to spot a Drew. Those blue eyes are an absolute giveaway. They're almost exactly the color of my own. That, plus the titian hair tells me that you're Nancy. Your great-grandmother had hair like that, too, you know. Yes, exactly like that!'' Mrs. Palmer rapped her cane on the floor for emphasis.

  The girls stood fixedly, not knowing whether they had permission to speak. Then Nancy smiled. 'T'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Palmer. iVe heard so much about you.''

  "Ah, none of your charm, girl. I know what you heard about me. Cantankerous old lady with one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel."

  "Oh, no," Nancy protested.

  "Well, never mind. I am cantankerous sometimes. Now, introduce me to your f
riends."

  "Of course," Nancy said. "This is George Fayne and Bess Marvin."

  "Welcome. I assume I may speak freely in the presence of George and Bess? Well, good. Now everyone sit down."

  The girls did as bidden but the regal old woman remained standing, ramrod stiff. "I don't sit," she said. "I never sit if I can stand. I never stand if I can walk. And up until a few years ago, I never walked when I could run. That's why I outlived all my friends, who used to sit around eating petits fours and drinking tea and wasting their lives on nonsense."

  Mrs. Palmer paced back and forth as she talked, her long skirt almost touching the floor. She moved with small steps and so little motion that she almost looked as if she were on rollers. Bess nudged George, and they both suppressed grins.

  ''Now then," Mrs. Palmer said, ''let's proceed with the business at hand. Some utter fools, for reasons we do not yet know, keep breaking into this house. They steal nothing. They don't really damage anything either, except one vase that they broke, probably by accident. They have done this time and again, and Fm becoming sick of it."

  She paused a moment, then continued. "I have complained, most vociferously, to the police, the state police, the mayor, and the governor. They have posted a guard, but frankly, I find it annoying to have someone watching my home, even if he's on my side. So today, knowing that you're going to be on the job, I asked the authorities to remove the officer."

  Nancy was somewhat taken aback. "I appreciate your trust," she said, "but I'm afraid that the police are much better at that sort of thing than I am. I simply try to find clues and determine who has been committing these burglaries. But I'm really not capable of guarding this house day and night by myself."

  Mrs. Palmer waved her hand airily. "Nonsense! The very fact that you are on the job already has the crooks scared stiff. I have no doubt that you shall have the case solved within twenty-four hours."