The Spider Sapphire Mystery

by Carolyn G. Keene

  “How amazing!” said Nancy. “Then where did he go?”

  Mrs. Munger replied, “Perhaps he was found by members of some tribe and taken to their village to be cared for.”

  “But he’d be well by this time and could have returned,” Nancy said.

  “That’s true,” Mrs. Munger agreed. “That is part of the great mystery surrounding Tizam.”

  CHAPTER XII

  surprise Meeting

  “THEN there is a good chance that the guide Tizam is alive,” said Nancy. She was excited at the thought of how happy Madame Lilia Bulawaya would be if Nancy succeeded in locating him.

  “I hope he is alive,” Munger replied. “He’s a very nice man and I understand talented. I did not find out what it is he does. Acting as a guide was just a sideline.”

  When tea was over and the young guests were saying good-by to their hostess, she asked where they were going next.

  “To the Mount Kenya Safari Club early tomor. row morning,” Nancy told her.

  “That is a beautiful spot,” Mrs. Munger remarked. “With magnificent snow-capped Mount Kenya in the distance and the grounds—Well, you’ll see for yourself.”

  The Safari Club and the surrounding country were as beautiful as Mrs. Munger had said. The extensive grounds were attractively laid out, with beautiful gardens and inviting play areas. At the foot of a grassy slope was a series of ponds. One was a swimming pool for guests; the other ponds were homes for various kinds of birds. Crested cranes stalked about the lawns. Swans, both white and rare black ones, swam serenely among water lilies on one of the ponds.

  “It’s heavenly here!” Bess remarked. She was admiring the view from the girls’ first-floor bedroom window.

  The room was large and had three beds in it. Living-room furniture, attractive drapes, and a fireplace at one end gave the place a cozy atmosphere.

  There was a knock on the door and a smiling black boy entered, his arms full of logs. With a pleasant “Good morning,” he knelt down and built a fire. Because of a slight chill in the air, the girls were delighted to have the fire. The boy bowed and went out.

  “Since we’re going to be here a little while,” Bess spoke up, “I’m going to hang up my dresses. They really can stand an airing.”

  The girls hung up their suits and dresses. They left the rest of their clothes and jewelry in the suitcases.

  “It would be fun to have our breakfast in front of this fire,” George remarked, “but we promised to meet the boys, so we’d better go.”

  “Actually this is our second breakfast,” Nancy reminded the others. “But I must admit I can use it after that drive up here.”

  As usual, Bess said, “I’m starved!”

  While the girls were walking through the attractive club to the dining room, Bess remarked, “This looks like a safe place for us to be. No villains, baboons, or anything else to bother us. We can just have fun and forget all the mysteries.”

  Nancy made no comment, but she thought that surely her enemies knew the Emerson itinerary. It was doubtful they would leave her and her friends alone.

  “I just hope I’ll see them first,” Nancy said to herself.

  The breakfast hour was jolly and at the end Nancy suggested that they all put on bathing suits and go to the swimming pool.

  “Great idea,” Burt agreed.

  “And I can do some sun-tanning,” said George.

  Bess warned her cousin to be careful of the strong African sun. “I hear it will give you a terrible burn without you realizing you’re turning to a crisp.”

  When the young people left the dining room, Ned and Nancy were last in line. As they strolled through the lobby, Nancy whispered to him, “See that Indian over there in the corner reading a newspaper.”

  Ned looked in the direction which she indicated. The man was elderly. He was handsome with his shock of white hair and wore his English-style clothes well.

  “That’s some ring he’s wearing,” Ned remarked.

  On the little finger of the Indian’s left hand was a ring with a large flashing diamond.

  Nancy was more interested in a name penciled in an upper corner of the newspaper. “Ned, it says Tagore! Do you suppose he’s Shastri Tagore?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let’s ask the desk clerk,” she suggested.

  “Why don’t we just introduce ourselves?” Ned proposed.

  Nancy was tempted to follow his suggestion, but on second thought changed her mind. “If it is Mr. Tagore, why don’t I ask when he made his reservation? It’s just possible he came here because of us.”

  Ned agreed and went with her to the desk. To the couple’s surprise, they learned that indeed the man was Mr. Shastri Tagore from Mombasa and that he came here year after year at exactly this time.

  The clerk seemed somewhat amused at Nancy and Ned’s interest in the man. “Would you like to meet him?” he asked.

  Nancy blushed but said, “Yes, I would.”

  The clerk escorted the couple to where Mr. Tagore was reading. As soon as introductions were made, he excused himself and returned to his desk.

  Mr. Tagore had risen and it was evident at once that he was a very polite and cultured man. “You are from the United States? How interesting! Won’t you sit down? I should like to ask you some questions about your country.”

  For several minutes the conversation remained general. Every subject which was touched upon was one with which Mr. Tagore seemed very familiar, even sports in America. He talked with Ned for several minutes about football and then with Nancy about tennis.

  “Do you ride?” Mr. Tagore asked them. When both nodded, he said, “If you are ever in Mombasa, I wish you would come to see me. I have horses which I believe you would enjoy riding.”

  All this time Nancy was thinking, “How could this fine-appearing gentleman possibly be part of a jewel fraud?” It was some time before it seemed opportune to mention the subject uppermost in her mind but finally the opportunity came. “I understand that you own a fabulous spider sapphire which disappeared.”

  “Yes. It was stolen, I am afraid.” Then a puzzled frown crossed his forehead. “But you are from the States. How did you know about this?”

  “Because I’m from River Heights,” she answered.

  At this, Mr. Tagore looked blank and said, “I do not understand.”

  Nancy felt sure that if he did know about Mr. Ramsey’s synthetic gem, he would not have placed much value on it. She was not ready yet, however, to give up trying to find out all she could from him.

  Nancy asked, “How would one tell a real spider sapphire from a modern synthetic one?”

  The Indian smiled. “I greatly doubt that anyone could fashion such a gem, but if he were clever enough to do so, there would be a sure way to tell the difference.”

  Nancy and Ned waited for Mr. Tagore to continue. Here was a marvelous clue! If he chose to tell them—

  Mr. Tagore went on, “Millions of years ago the spiders on this earth had no spinnerets. The one in my sapphire has none.”

  “How amazing!” Nancy remarked.

  She was tempted to tell Mr. Tagore about the Ramsey synthetic gem. No doubt the modem spider in it did have spinnerets. But she decided to find out more about this man before revealing what she knew. Nancy asked him why the ancient spiders apparently did not need to spin threads and weave webs to trap their food.

  “The original spiders lived on the water,” Mr. Tagore replied. “Later, when some of them became land arachnids, they developed spinnerets.” He paused for a moment and looked quizzically at Nancy. “I have a feeling, Miss Drew, that there is something of greater interest to you on this subject than the history of spiders.”

  Nancy smiled and said, “I heard a rumor that your stolen gem is in the United States.”

  Mr. Tagore looked surprised and shook his head. “That is not the truth,” he said. “It is still somewhere in Africa.”

  Ned asked, “Where do you think it went?”

 
The Indian looked around, making sure that no one could hear him. He whispered, “I believe it was taken by a guide who later disappeared.”

  “A guide?” Nancy repeated. “You mean a guide on a safari?”

  “Exactly. The guide was reported to be looking for a relative of his who was captured by a raiding tribe in the jungle.”

  “But you do not believe this story?” Ned queried.

  Mr. Tagore thought a moment. “I do not know what to believe. So many theories have come to me that I am utterly confused. But this story about the guide seemed the most likely. I think he is in hiding.”

  “What were the names of the guide and the relative he was looking for?” Nancy asked.

  “Chotu was the relative—and let me think. Oh yes, the guide’s name was Tizam.”

  CHAPTER XIII

  A Disastrous Fire

  TIZAM was suspected of being one of the thieves involved in the stolen spider sapphire mystery! Nancy and Ned could not help but show surprise.

  Mr. Tagore looked at them puzzled and asked, “You know these men?”

  “Not Chotu,” Nancy replied. “But we have heard of Tizam. He has a sister who is a singer. She’s in America. When she learned we were coming to Africa, she mentioned her brother.”

  “Did she tell you that he was reported to have disappeared?” the Indian asked.

  Nancy felt that she should reveal no more and merely said, “She mentioned something of the sort. Have you any idea where he is?”

  “No,” said Mr. Tagore. “If I had, I would send the authorities after him.”

  Nancy’s mind was in a whirl. What a strange combination of stories there were about Tizam’s trek into the jungle! He was reported to have been mauled and killed by a lioness. He was supposed to have been rescued but disappeared. Now he was being accused of theft and staying in hiding!

  Nancy said to Mr. Tagore, “I certainly hope that the person or persons who took your spider sapphire will be found.”

  The couple said good-by and went off. They continued to discuss the strange turn of events, but presently Ned asked, “What’s next on our program, Nancy?”

  “We’re all to meet at the swimming pool,” Nancy reminded him.

  “Then I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Ned said, and hurried off toward his room.

  By the time Nancy had reached hers, Bess and George were already in their suits. Nancy quickly changed and the three girls went outside. The day was sunny and very warm.

  “How beautiful Mount Kenya is!” Bess exclaimed, looking into the distance. “Just think! Snow all year round near the equator!”

  Tables with umbrellas were set up around the pool. Gwen, looking extremely attractive, came over with Hal to join the girls.

  “Water’s wonderful!” she said.

  Hal remarked, “Gwen’s a real nymph.” She blushed, but it was evident she enjoyed the compliment.

  In a few minutes Ned, Burt, and Dave joined the group. There was a lively exchange of teasing and witty wisecracks.

  Presently Ned said, “Fellows, how about a race to the end of the pool and back?”

  “Sure thing,” Burt responded and took his place at the edge. Dave swung into position alongside him, Hal next, and Ned fourth.

  George was elected to call out the start and to be the judge of the winner. She stood behind the boys and said:

  “Ready! Get set! Go!”

  The four swimmers dived in. Each one made a long underwater swim. When he rose to the surface, the racer plowed madly along to the opposite end of the pool, gave a quick push with one foot, and started back. Each of the four girls egged on her particular friend.

  “Go!”

  “Hurry up!”

  “Swim, swim!‘.

  “Give it to ‘em!” George cried out, rooting for Burt, although she was supposed to be an impartial judge.

  Whether it was her cry of encouragement, or because Burt was the best swimmer, no one could say, but he did come in first and was pronounced the winner.

  As he climbed from the water, shaking his head to get the water off, he said with a grin, “I like Africa! This is the first race I’ve won in a long time!”

  By now most of the others in the Emerson safari had gathered and soon the pool was full of swimmers. There was some horseplay, then finally everyone came to sit in the chairs or on towels spread on the ground. One of the boys had brought a transistor radio. When he turned it on, they could hear an American record being played.

  “That music makes it seem as if we weren’t so far away from home,” Bess spoke up.

  Record after record of American-composed songs and dances followed. Presently a waltz came on.

  Ned stood up and called out, “How about you girls putting on a show? A water ballet?”

  “Good idea,” said Gwen. “Come on, girls!”

  Without time for any rehearsing, the performers were forced to make up their own ballet. From the enthusiastic clapping, they judged it was good. It was evident to the watching boys, however, that Gwen Taylor far outshone the others. She was grace personified in the water and Hal’s remark about her being a nymph was true.

  As the record ended and the girls pulled themselves up over the side of the pool, the boys clapped loudly. Then Ned said, “We didn’t call this a contest and we have no prize, but I’d like to tell you, Gwen, that you’re a beautiful dancing swimmer.”

  “Oh, thank you, but I thought everybody else was marvelous,” she said.

  Some in the group who were not yet aware of Gwen’s change of attitude looked at her in amazement. Many of them crowded around her and she knew from this that she was now “in.”

  Someone called out, “It’s almost lunchtime. Meet you all on the patio.” The meal was to be served here.

  The swimmers arose and walked toward the club. Nancy, Bess, and George, towels around their shoulders, went up the slight incline of the beautiful green lawn and entered the main building. They got the key to their room from the desk clerk.

  As Nancy unlocked their door, Bess remarked, “Phew! What a horrible odor!”

  The three girls walked through the short hallway and stepped inside the room. They looked around. Suddenly all of them gave a gasp of dismay.

  Heaped in the fireplace were the remains of their burned clothing and suitcases!

  The girls rushed forward disbelievingly. In a moment Bess burst into tears. “My lovely dresses!” she wailed.

  George’s face turned red with anger. She went to the closet and opened it. Every dress was gone.

  “This is an outrage!” she stormed.

  Nancy was grim. For several moments she said nothing. What vandal had been in here and done such a sadistic thing? “Our enemies!” she decided.

  Heaped in the fireplace were their burned clothing

  and suitcases

  Turning on her heel, Nancy went out the door and hurried to the manager’s office. She told him what had happened and asked him to come and see the damage. Upon looking at the still smolder ing fire, he stood still in amazement.

  Then he turned to the girls. “Why would anyone do such a thing? I’ll get the room boy at once and see if he knows anything about this.”

  He telephoned to the employees’ quarters and in minutes the room boy arrived.

  “Roscoe, do you know anything about this?” he asked.

  When the boy saw the mess in the fireplace he stared at it blankly, and denied any knowledge of the vandalism. Roscoe said he had brought in more wood, tidied up the room, then gone out and locked the door.

  “Someone must have come in through the open window,” Nancy said to the manager.

  He excused the room boy, who went off. “I’m sure Roscoe is honest,” he said. “And anyway, what would he have to gain by burning your belongings?”

  The girls agreed. Finally Nancy told the manager that she was trying to solve a mystery here in Africa.

  “I think that certain people who don’t want me to learn the facts perpetrated this o
utrage.”

  The thought went through her mind, “Could it possibly have been Mr. Tagore?” It seemed unlikely, yet from the beginning she had wondered if he might be involved in the theft.

  The manager offered to send someone to town immediately to purchase clothes for the girls. “Thank you,” said Nancy, “but I think we can borrow enough from our friends to last us until we get to Nairobi.”

  Bess spoke up. “Let’s ask Gwen first. She has lots of clothes.”

  The manager and Bess left together. She returned in a few minutes saying that Gwen was delighted and would herself take charge of asking for donations from the other girls. Within fifteen minutes she knocked on their door and came in with her arms loaded. Behind her were two other girls, one of them carrying a suitcase which contained underwear and shoes.

  “Oh my goodness!” said George. “I couldn’t wear all these clothes in a week!”

  “This is like Christmas,” Bess added. She had spotted a frilly white dress and said, “Nancy and George, do you mind if I take this one?”

  “No,” Nancy replied. “It looks just like you.”

  The various articles of clothing were distributed. As the three from River Heights gazed at themselves in the mirror a few minutes later, George grinned and said:

  “Who am I?”

  Gwen giggled. “I think you’re Dot Bird. Nancy, you look lovely in the light-blue linen that used to be mine.”

  By the time the River Heights girls reached the patio, the story of the fire in their room had spread among other guests. Mr. Tagore left his table and came over to speak to Nancy. She introduced her friends.

  “I am sorry to hear about your loss,” he said. “Only someone with a criminal mind could have done such a thing. I regret that Africa has treated you so badly.”

  “It was a great loss indeed,” Nancy answered. “But our friends kindly shared their clothes with us.”

  Mr. Tagore asked whether the three girls had also lost the jewelry they had brought.

  “Yes, we did,” Bess replied. “It was in the suitcases and the fire ruined everything.”