• • •
Nancy loved entering Henry Gordon’s store. Walking into Past Perfect was almost like stepping into another time. Tall wardrobes stood among rolltop desks, four-poster beds, and high-backed armchairs.
At the sound of the door chimes Mr. Gordon appeared from the back of the store. He was wearing the same tiny round spectacles he’d had on at the antiques expo, and another old-fashioned suit with a vest. At the high school, he’d looked out of place, but in his store he fit in perfectly.
“Good morning, girls.” He greeted Nancy and Bess warmly, but Nancy thought she detected some worry in his eyes. “Is anything wrong with the clock?”
“Not exactly,” Nancy told him. “You might say I got it back in even better condition than I expected.”
Mr. Gordon smiled. “That’s my policy, to return things better than I received them.”
Nancy glanced around the store. “Are we alone?”
Mr. Gordon nodded, looking a little puzzled.
Nancy reached into her purse and pulled out her handkerchief, gently opening the folds to reveal the rose brooch. “I found this inside the clock when I got home.”
Mr. Gordon gasped. “But how—”
“That’s what we’d like to know,” Nancy said. She rewrapped the brooch and put it into her purse.
“You don’t think I . . . ?” Mr. Gordon began, his face reddening.
“I’m not accusing anyone,” Nancy said quickly. “I was just wondering if you could tell me who was watching the clock at the expo, and if there was ever a time when it wasn’t being watched.”
“Lydia and I were both at the booth the entire time,” Gordon said, “except when Lydia took her break, and when I joined you at Brown’s booth after he discovered his brooch was missing.” The antique dealer became thoughtful. “You don’t think Lydia . . .”
“I don’t know,” Nancy answered. “But we can’t rule anyone out.”
Mr. Gordon stared into space over Nancy’s shoulder, frowning as if trying to make up his mind about something. “You know,” he said finally, “I wasn’t going to mention this, but something very strange happened here at the shop last night after I left. When I arrived this morning, I noticed that some of my papers had been rearranged. And all the boxes brought back from the expo had been opened. Nothing was taken, though.”
“Was there any sign of forced entry?” Nancy asked.
He nodded. “The window to my office was open. I’m sure I closed it last night before I left.”
“Don’t you have an alarm system?” Nancy asked, glancing at all the valuable things in the store.
Mr. Gordon shook his head. “Maybe I’m too old-fashioned,” he admitted, “but I still trust people.” Then his expression brightened. “But if someone did break in, that rules out Lydia. She’s got a key.”
“She could have made it look like a break-in,” Nancy pointed out. What she didn’t say was that Mr. Gordon, too, could have faked a break-in to make himself look less suspicious.
“Speaking of Lydia,” Bess said, “where is she?”
“She called in sick today,” Mr. Gordon said. “She has some sort of flu.”
“Hmmm.” Nancy couldn’t help wondering if there might be a connection between the break-in and Lydia’s sudden illness. “Do you mind if I take a look at the window?” she asked.
Mr. Gordon led her and Bess through the store and into his office. Boxes lined one wall, and antique prints hung on the other three walls. The window was just above a small wooden desk.
Nancy went over and looked at the window. “I see the latch is closed now,” she said to Mr. Gordon. “Did you lock it last night?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t remember. But I can tell you I will from now on. And I’m going to get an alarm system, too.”
Nancy unlocked the window and opened it, but she didn’t notice any scratch marks on the paint or the windowsill. The entry hadn’t been forced.
Just then the quiet in the shop was shattered by the ringing of bells. Nearby, a grandfather clock chimed eleven o’clock, and the sound was echoed by smaller timepieces all over the store.
“We’d better go,” said Nancy. “We’ve got to take the brooch to the police station. I hope you don’t mind if I tell Chief McGinnis about your break-in.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Gordon replied. “Please keep me informed.”
“We will,” Nancy promised.
“I feel so bad even considering Mr. Gordon a suspect,” Nancy said as she pulled her sports car away from the antique dealer’s shop.
“How do you think I feel about Lydia?” Bess asked.
“Don’t worry,” Nancy said. “For all we know, Lydia had nothing to do with it. We’ll talk to her as soon as she gets over her flu.”
At that moment Nancy glimpsed something that startled her. Instinctively she began to put on the brakes, but a loud honk from the car behind her forced her to keep on going.
“Are you okay?” Bess asked, lurching with the sudden movements of the car. “What was that all about?”
Nancy didn’t want to say anything until she was certain. But she could have sworn she’d just seen a tall young woman dressed in a 1920s-style flapper dress. The beaded blue dress was short, and the woman wore a small hat with a blue feather sticking out. She was in the doorway of an empty store, talking with a man in a business suit. It had happened so fast that Nancy wasn’t sure whom she’d seen. But if she was correct, that flapper was Lydia Newkirk.
4
Round-the-Clock Protection
At the next corner Nancy made a sharp right and stepped on the accelerator.
“Nancy!” cried Bess, alarmed. “Will you please tell me what’s going on? This isn’t the way to the police station.”
Nancy made another right turn. “I think I just saw Lydia,” she said.
“Lydia?” asked Bess, looking surprised. “But she has the flu.”
“Well, she must have made a pretty speedy recovery,” Nancy said.
Nancy made a last right back onto Center Street and slowed down as she passed the row of stores where she’d just seen the woman in the blue flapper dress. There was no sign of Lydia or anyone else.
“I’m going to park,” Nancy said, swallowing her disappointment, “so we can get a better look.” She found a parking spot two blocks farther up the street, and the two girls got out.
“What makes you think it was Lydia you saw?” Bess asked as they walked back down Center Street. “We were going pretty fast.”
“I’m not sure it was,” Nancy said. “But how many girls do you know in River Heights who’d wear a flapper dress when she’s not at a costume party?”
“Maybe it just looked like a flapper dress,” Bess suggested.
The girls reached the block where Nancy had spotted the young woman, but the only person on the street was an old lady walking a dachshund.
“It looked as if she was in front of an empty store,” Nancy said as they passed a deli, a stationer’s, and a dry cleaner. “Wait! There it is.”
She slowed her pace as they reached a storefront window where a posted sign read, For Rent: Megan Krasnoff Realty, 965 Vernon Road, Call 555-1966.
“I’m sure this was where I saw her,” Nancy said excitedly. She peered in through the glass door. There were no lights on inside, but it was easy to see that the store was vacant.
Bess stood next to Nancy and looked through the glass. “You see, Lydia’s not there,” she said, feeling relieved that her neighbor had not been spotted.
“Or not there anymore,” Nancy said. Taking her notebook out of her purse, she jotted down the name and number of the real estate company. “I’ll follow up on this later,” she said. “I don’t want to keep Chief McGinnis waiting.”
• • •
Russell Brown was already sitting in the lobby of the police station when Nancy and Bess arrived. The girls told the desk sergeant that Chief McGinnis was expecting them, then sat do
wn on a bench opposite Brown. Mr. Brown glanced at the girls but didn’t seem to recognize them from the day before. He just continued to stare off into space, one foot nervously tapping the floor.
After a moment Chief McGinnis came out to greet them. “Nancy Drew and Bess Marvin,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s always a mixed blessing to see you. Good, of course, because you make my job easier, but bad because it usually means something’s gone wrong in this town.”
“Hi, Chief,” Nancy said, shaking his hand. Bess did the same.
“And you must be Russell Brown,” McGinnis said, turning to the man on the other bench. “These are the girls who found your brooch.”
Mr. Brown stood up quickly. “Where is it?” he asked anxiously. “Has it been damaged?”
“Let’s go to my office first,” Chief McGinnis said. “Come with me.”
Russell Brown followed Chief McGinnis and the girls to the police chief’s office. Two uniformed officers were standing just inside the door. Nancy recognized Sergeant Rudinsky. To her left was a young man with a ruddy complexion and straight black hair.
“This is Sergeant Margaret Rudinsky and her partner, Joseph Brody, who’s just graduated from the police academy. They’ll be investigating this case,” the chief said as he sat down behind his desk. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got, Nancy.”
Nancy removed the handkerchief-wrapped brooch from her purse and delicately lifted back the corners of the cloth.
“You found it!” Officer Brody exclaimed happily. “Case closed. That was easy.”
Sergeant Rudinsky’s expression did not change, but Nancy saw her eyes move left to look at Brody.
“The case is not quite closed,” Chief McGinnis said. “We still have no idea who stole the brooch in the first place. And since the thief wasn’t successful, he or she may try again.”
Officer Brody blushed and looked down at the floor. “Is this the brooch?” Chief McGinnis asked Mr. Brown.
Mr. Brown nodded excitedly and reached forward to grab it, but the police chief put his hand out to stop him. “Whoa,” he said. “We’ve got to dust it first for fingerprints.” He picked up the phone and pressed some buttons. “McGinnis here,” he said. “I want you to send a lab technician up right away.”
Within moments a young woman wearing a lab coat and surgical gloves took the brooch and placed it in an evidence bag.
“I want it back quickly,” Chief McGinnis told her, “along with the results.” After she left, he turned back to the others. “Our best shot at catching the thief is Nancy’s clock. For all the thief knows, the brooch is still hidden inside it and hasn’t been discovered.”
“I see what you’re getting at,” said Nancy. “We could use the clock as bait to trap the thief. I think whoever stole the brooch is already looking for it.” Nancy went on to describe the apparent break-in at Henry Gordon’s store.
“What if Mr. Gordon stole it?” Bess pointed out in a quiet voice. “He already knows you have the brooch.”
“That’s true,” Nancy said, looking at Chief McGinnis.
The police chief rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We’ll put a tail on Gordon. That way we’ll know if he does anything suspicious.”
Nancy nodded. “And if the thief isn’t Mr. Gordon, he or she probably knows that the clock is mine. There was a card at the expo with my name on it. Also, Henry Gordon must have an invoice for the clock repair in his office that has my name on it. If the thief went to the trouble of breaking into Past Perfect, what’s to stop him or her from coming to my house?”
“Exactly,” Chief McGinnis said. “And if that happens, we’ll be right there waiting. We’ll set up a twenty-four-hour surveillance outside your house—plainclothes officers in an unmarked car.”
“Hold on a minute,” Mr. Brown cut in. “Are you saying you want to leave my brooch inside her clock instead of giving it back to me?”
“Well, if we give the brooch back to you, the thief would have no way of knowing it,” Chief McGinnis said. “He or she might still come after the clock.” The police chief sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “But do you think the brooch will be as safe with you, Mr. Brown, as it would be under constant police protection?”
Over his glasses, Russell Brown eyed the police chief with doubt. “How do I know you and Ms. Drew will keep it safe? I’m sorry. It’s just that after what happened yesterday, I’m not feeling too trustful.”
“It’s quite all right,” Chief McGinnis said. “I leave it up to you.”
Mr. Brown looked nervously from Nancy to the police chief. “Maybe you’re right,” he said at last. “I’ll let you keep it for now. But please guard it with your lives.”
Chief McGinnis nodded. “Rudinsky and Brody will take the first shift,” he said. “I’ll assign other teams to relieve them. Your brooch will be in very good hands.”
“I’d like to help in any way I can,” Nancy offered. “In addition to keeping the clock, I mean.”
“Fine,” said the police chief. “I’d be foolish not to take advantage of your detective skills. Just be sure to keep me informed of anything you turn up.”
There was a knock on the door. Sergeant Rudinsky opened it, and the lab technician reappeared. “Nothing,” she said, placing the brooch on Chief McGinnis’s desk. “It’s so smudged there’s no way of getting a clear print. Sorry.”
After the technician left, Chief McGinnis gave the two other officers a nod. “Rudinsky, Brody, change into street clothes and begin the surveillance. You’ll be relieved at midnight.”
As they all filed out of the police chief’s office, Nancy touched Russell Brown on the shoulder. “May I have your business card?” she asked. “I might need to ask you some questions later.”
“So far we have more questions than we know what to do with, but not a single answer,” Mr. Brown said as he gave her his card.
• • •
As Nancy parked in her driveway, she noticed Sergeant Rudinsky and Officer Brody pulling their dark blue unmarked sedan to a halt across the street. They parked between two other cars so they wouldn’t be too noticeable.
“Hannah?” Nancy called as she and Bess entered the front door of the Drews’ house. There was no answer.
“I’ll have to explain about the surveillance later,” Nancy said, heading for the study. “But first, I’m going to put the brooch back in Dad’s safe. As Chief McGinnis said, the thief will have no way of knowing the brooch isn’t still inside the clock.”
“Do you have any new ideas about the case?” Bess asked after Nancy had locked the brooch inside the wall safe.
Nancy shook her head. “Our only real suspects so far are Lydia and Henry Gordon, I’m afraid. But I was thinking it would help if we had a list of everyone who attended the expo. Then we could check to see if any other names ring a bell.”
“That should be easy to get,” said Bess. “We all signed in yesterday, remember? I’m sure that coordinator, the lady in the nice red suit, would have the list. What was her name?”
“Jennings,” Nancy said, snapping her fingers. “Mary Lou Jennings. Let’s see if she’s in the phone book.”
The girls went to the kitchen to get the phone book. “Here she is,” said Nancy after scanning a page. Within moments, she had called Ms. Jennings and explained what she needed. Nancy was careful not to reveal that the brooch had been located. Ms. Jennings was more than willing to help and invited the girls to come over that afternoon to look at the sign-in lists.
After making themselves some egg salad sandwiches, Nancy and Bess set off for the address Mary Lou Jennings had given Nancy. It was not far from the Drews’ home. Nancy turned her sports car up a long, tree-lined driveway that led to a white mansion with columns in front.
“Wow,” said Bess in an awed voice. “I’ll bet there are at least fifty rooms in this house!”
“Plus one important list of names,” Nancy added as they got out of the ear.
Mary Lou Jennings op
ened the door herself when the girls rang the bell. She was dressed more casually than she had been the day before, in a white silk blouse, slim black pants, and flat two-toned pumps. A single wrinkle was etched in her smooth forehead. Behind her, a uniformed maid was dusting a table in the wide entry hall.
“You don’t know how upset I am,” Ms. Jennings said after Nancy and Bess introduced themselves. “I’ve organized this event for the past five years, and nothing like this has ever happened before.”
Ms. Jennings ushered the girls into a large parlor. “I’ve set you up in here,” she said, showing Nancy and Bess two stapled stacks of paper on a coffee table. “These are the names of all the exhibitors and guests. Make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll send Kate in with some cool drinks.”
Nancy and Bess thanked Ms. Jennings and went straight to work.
“There are hundreds and hundreds of names,” Bess moaned as she flipped through one of the lists. “And we don’t even know who we’re looking for.”
“It’s a long shot,” Nancy admitted. “Just keep your eyes open for anything that looks interesting.”
The maid appeared with lemonade. For half an hour, the girls scanned the lists, pausing only to sip from their tall glasses. After a half hour, Nancy’s eyes were tired. She was beginning to get a headache, too.
“Maybe we should—” Nancy started to say, but she was cut off by a yelp from Bess. “What is it?” Nancy asked. “Did you find something?”
“I sure did!” Bess exclaimed. She pointed at her list. “You’ll never believe who was at the expo yesterday.”
“Who?” Nancy asked. “Tell me!”
“Kimberly Burton,” Bess replied in a low, excited voice. “The cat burglar who was in all the papers last year.”
5
In the Cat Burglar’s Lair
“Kimberly Burton was on the TV news, too,” Bess prompted Nancy. “Remember? She was on trial for that string of robberies in River Heights and a couple of other nearby towns.”
A Secret in Time Page 3
