The Clue of the Velvet Mask

by Carolyn G. Keene

  “Talk!” ordered the driver.

  But George was overcome with drowsiness and a new sensation of numbness spread through her limbs.

  “You gave her too big a dose,” the other man accused the woman. “Can’t you see she’s going under again?”

  “Yeah,” broke in the driver. “A lot of good she’ll do us now!”

  “Okay, okay,” growled the woman. “So I gave her too much. We’d just better get out of here fast before the Drew girl puts the cops on us.”

  “Listen! A car’s coming!” said the driver. “Let’s get rid of this babe and scram!”

  Hastily George’s captors pulled her from the automobile and propped her beside a tree, together with her own handbag and Nancy’s suitcase.

  “Now, young lady, how do you like that?” the woman sneered.

  She grasped George’s arm tightly, whispering dire threats into her ear. Although George was dazed, the words burned deeply into her brain.

  “And I advise you not to forget!” the woman finished with a harsh laugh.

  “Come on! Hurry!” the driver shouted.

  The couple jumped back into the car and roared away in a cloud of dust. George gave a sigh and sank to the foot of the tree in a deep sleep.

  Meanwhile Bess had found Nancy, who was relating their story to a policeman. When she finished, Bess told about the escape of the other man.

  “Did you get the license number of the kidnappers’ car?” the officer asked.

  Both shook their heads. “Everything happened so quickly. I didn’t see the other one either,” Bess apologized, then broke off in sobs.

  “The kidnappers had a brown sedan,” Nancy recalled. “It turned right at the first corner. Can you chase it?”

  “I can’t leave here, but I’ll report it,” the policeman said. “Did you notice anything else?”

  “No-o,” Nancy replied. “That is, nothing that will help us now.”

  Actually she had made one other fleeting observation. Just as the car crossed the railroad tracks, she had seen a small object drop out of a window. From a distance it had looked like a shiny metal disk. Nancy wanted to search for it, but just now there was no time, and moreover another train was arriving.

  “If the kidnappers took Old Mill Road, it’s a case for the State Police,” the officer said. “I’ll call them.”

  The girls ran back to the platform for their bags but returned at once. They waited impatiently. Finally the officer appeared.

  “Okay, they’ll try to pick up the trail,” he reported, “but they’d like you girls along.”

  “Where do we meet them?” Nancy asked, fidgety that time was passing and George was getting farther away.

  “Their headquarters are on Old Mill Road. I’ll take you there.”

  The girls picked up their overnight bags and jumped into his car, which sped to the outskirts of town. There was no sign of the brown sedan.

  They transferred to a waiting State Police car containing two officers who introduced themselves as Lieutenants Connolly and Whyte.

  They recognized Nancy from newspaper pictures which had often accompanied stories of her detective work. Nancy thanked them for their praise but quickly turned their attention to the details of George’s abduction.

  “The Velvet Gang, eh?” Whyte said. “This is serious.”

  The four kept a sharp lookout for the kidnappers’ car. There was no way of knowing whether or not they had taken the right route as they followed the winding Old Mill Road.

  Presently Whyte radioed to headquarters, reporting failure so far and asking if there was any news from surrounding towns which had been alerted. He was told that the abductors had not been picked up.

  The officer had just replaced his transceiver when Nancy cried out, “Stop! Look over there!”

  Her alert eyes had caught sight of a girl propped against a tree at the edge of a woods.

  “It’s George!”

  The titian-haired wig was gone and she appeared to be only semiconscious. Nancy and Bess leaped from the car and ran to her. As they shook George gently she opened her eyes.

  “Nancy! Bess!” she murmured, and started weeping hysterically on Nancy’s shoulder.

  “Everything’s all right, George,” Nancy said.

  Bess slipped a protective arm about the trembling girl’s waist.

  “Nancy, you must give up the case,” George sobbed. “I insist!”

  “Give it up?” Nancy echoed in disbelief. “Why, George, it’s astounding to hear you suggest such a thing! You’re the one who has been urging me to solve it.”

  The troopers had come up and were listening to the girls’ conversation. Quickly Bess gave a glowing account of Nancy’s brilliant sleuthing on the Velvet Gang case.

  “That’s amazing!” Lieutenant Whyte remarked. “If you track down the party thieves, my hat’s off to you.”

  “But she mustn’t do any more work on it,” George mumbled.

  Nancy and Bess exchanged glances. This was not the old George Faynel What had happened?

  CHAPTER VIII

  Telltale Tag

  APPARENTLY George had been badly frightened by her abductors, but after a good night’s sleep she would be her normal self, Nancy figured.

  Lieutenant Whyte knelt down beside George, and taking her wrist counted the girl’s pulse beat. He puckered his brow.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said.

  “A woman leaned over me in the train and put a handkerchief over my nose and mouth. It smelled very sweet and made me black out.”

  “When did you first wake up?” Whyte asked.

  “I don’t know. What time is it?”

  “I mean, did you wake up while you were in the car or after?” the officer questioned.

  “There were voices—I—”

  George stopped speaking and again lost consciousness. By the time they reached town George had revived somewhat and was examined by the police physician in his office. He said it was impossible to determine what drug had been administered to the girl but advised that she be taken home and put to bed for a few days.

  “I’ll phone Mother to come and get us,” Bess offered.

  When Nancy telephoned her father’s hotel in Amstar to explain the delay, she was amazed to hear that he had checked out late that morning.

  “Then the telegram was a hoax,” she thought. “Those people certainly are clever. They were eavesdropping at my house and heard us making plans!”

  She dialed her home and learned that Mr. Drew was in his law office. She called him there and explained what had happened.

  “I don’t like this at all,” he said. “That gang is dangerous. You’d better forget the whole thing,” he advised.

  “But, Dad, you gave me a job to do and I want to finish it!” Nancy protested.

  “Well, all right,” he agreed reluctantly. “But do your sleuthing in safer places. You’ll be home tonight?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  While waiting for Mrs. Marvin to arrive, Nancy decided to search at the railroad station for the object she had seen drop from the abductors’ car.

  “Oh, Nancy,” George said weakly, “please don’t do another thing about those awful people.”

  Seeing how deeply worried her friend was, Nancy decided she would not go. But a moment later George had dozed off on the couch in the physician’s office.

  “I’ll be back before she wakes up,” Nancy whispered to Bess and left the room.

  Going directly to the railroad station, she spent twenty minutes searching along the tracks. Just as she was about to give up, her efforts were rewarded. Close to one of the steel rails lay a rectangular metal tag.

  The young detective immediately recognized it as a charge plate issued by some department stores. The names and numbers on it had been flattened by a train passing over them, but the words “Tay” and “House Acc” were visible.

  “Tay,” Nancy mused. “I wonder if that could be Taylor’s in River Heights. M
aybe one of the thieves works there? Tomorrow I’ll ask their credit manager if he can identify this house account charge plate.”

  Elated, Nancy returned to the doctor’s office. George was still drowsing. Mrs. Marvin arrived in a little while and was very much concerned when she heard the details of what had happened. The physician assured her that the girl was well enough to travel but would probably sleep all the way home. He suggested George have no visitors for a couple days.

  George awoke as the others were discussing the subject of masks. “Let’s not talk about masks,” she pleaded. “We’ve had enough of them forever!”

  The subject was not mentioned again during the remainder of the trip to River Heights. George herself had little to say. Though she insisted that she felt fairly well, her face remained pale and she was shaky.

  Nancy did not see her the next day. Mrs. Fayne kept her daughter in bed and allowed no visitors as the doctor had suggested. She reported that George had slept restlessly and had talked incoherently in her dreams, mostly about the Velvet Gang.

  “Poor George!” Nancy thought unhappily. “It’s really my fault! I never should have allowed her to masquerade as me.”

  On her way to see the credit manager of Taylor’s Department Store, Nancy went over the thieves’ activities. Since the night of the Becker wedding, no more robberies had been reported. Yet not for a moment did she believe that the thieves had left the vicinity. When the proper time arrived, they would strike again—possibly on the days indicated in the black hood.

  Nancy was admitted to the office of Mr. Johnson, the credit manager of Taylor’s. Without telling him of the previous day’s experience, she mentioned a possible tie-in between the party thieves and the plate she carried.

  Mr. Johnson examined the plate carefully. “It’s one of ours all right,” he said. “This was issued to an employee. But to tell you his or her name—that’s impossible.”

  “Impossible?” Nancy asked, disappointed.

  “Taylor’s has several hundred employees to whom charge plates have been issued.”

  “You must have a record of every one,” Nancy reminded him.

  “We have. But the number of this plate has been obliterated. I couldn’t interview all our workers on such slim evidence.”

  “I know how the checkup could be made without very much work,” Nancy said.

  “How?”

  “By elimination. Ask all your employees to turn in their plates on a pretext of changing them. Naturally the person who lost this one wouldn’t be able to.”

  Mr. Johnson considered the suggestion.

  “You present your case very well, Miss Drew.” He smiled. “I’ll do it, even though it does inconvenience us.”

  Satisfied, Nancy next called at her father’s office. He promptly put aside his work.

  “Nothing new to report. Mr. Lightner came in to see me this morning. He’s still worried about those threatened lawsuits. We’re stalling for time. And what’s your news?”

  Nancy told him, then said she was going to follow Tombar that noon.

  “At a safe distance,” Mr. Drew cautioned. “And tell me, what do you hope to find out?”

  Nancy explained about seeing Tombar bring a package from the entertainment company the same day the telltale cloak disappeared.

  “He shook me off his trail rather pointedly when I followed him,” she said. “And he’s perfectly horrid about Linda without any reason. Maybe he’s afraid she’ll find out something.”

  “Better keep your suspicions to yourself until you have some evidence to back them up.”

  “I promise, Dad.”

  Nancy phoned Linda Seeley, who told her that Mr. Tombar had not come in that day.

  “And the mysterious torn black cloak has never been returned,” Linda reported. “But I have something else to tell you,” she said. “Come over at lunchtime, will you?”

  At noon the two girls met at a soda counter and sat down side by side. Linda said that everything was going well at the office.

  “But I suppose something could happen at any time. Nancy, how would you like to attend a musicale?”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. At the Elkin home on Kenwood Boulevard. The affair will be very plush. It’s to introduce the French singer Madame De Velleaux.”

  “Is your company in charge?”

  “Yes, and Mr. Lightner says he’ll get you an invitation if you’re interested. I’ll be there.”

  Nancy decided instantly. She would enjoy the concert and there was the possibility that one of the party thieves might put in an appearance. Tomorrow would be the twenty-first of June, and 621 was one of the dates in the hood.

  “Where shall I meet you, Linda?”

  “I may have to go early,” the other replied. “Tell you what! I’ll send your invitation by messenger. Then if I’m held up, you won’t be kept waiting at the door.”

  The next day, upon reaching the Elkin home, Nancy presented her invitation to the butler at the front entrance. The hall and living room were richly furnished and held many priceless art objects. She went upstairs and laid her light coat on one of the beds. As far as Nancy could observe, there was not a single plainclothesman on duty.

  She went downstairs and lingered near the front door so that she could scrutinize all new arrivals. A few minutes later Nancy caught sight of Peter Tombar. He saw her at the same moment and came over.

  “Well, well,” he said with false geniality, “so you’re an admirer of Madame De Velleaux?”

  “I’ve never heard her sing,” Nancy replied. “Is Linda Seeley here?”

  “Linda isn’t coming,” he said shortly.

  “Is she ill?”

  “No. She was needed elsewhere. I sent her to another house. I’m taking over here myself.”

  Nancy remained silent, wondering whether the excuse he had given was really what lay behind Linda’s failure to appear.

  “How did you get in?” Tombar asked Nancy abruptly.

  “By invitation.”

  “And where did you get the invitation?” the man growled. “Your name wasn’t on the guest list.”

  Nancy smiled sweetly. “Perhaps you didn’t look carefully enough.”

  Deciding not to give the man an opportunity to question her further, Nancy sauntered away. She entered the music room and seated herself in the last row near the door. A few minutes later the concert began.

  After sitting there long enough to make it appear that she had come only to hear the singer, Nancy left to start her sleuthing. She tiptoed out and stood in the main hall a moment. The other rooms on the lower floor appeared to be deserted. Meeting one of the maids, she asked her if she knew what had become of the man from the Lightner Entertainment Company.

  “No, miss, I don’t,” the maid replied. “I’ve been upstairs. The only person up there is the sick lady.”

  “Someone ill?”

  “Yes, miss. One of the guests. Just a few minutes ago she asked me to get her a cup of tea from the kitchen. I’m going for it now.”

  “Where is the lady?”

  “In the bedroom where the guests left their coats.”

  The maid hastened to the kitchen. Nancy hesitated a moment, mulling over the information. Was the woman really ill? The errand might have been a way to get rid of the maid!

  Silently Nancy mounted the stairway to the bedroom and opened the partly closed door. A slim woman stood at the dresser, hurriedly removing jewelry from the top drawer!

  In the mirror Nancy caught a fleeting glimpse of a hard, brazen face. She knew instantly that she had seen the woman before. The Hendricks’ ball perhaps? Yes, that was it! This was the woman who had worn the Javanese costume!

  Now Nancy had caught her red-handed. She must bar the exit and call for help!

  Before she could turn, Nancy was suddenly grasped from behind. She tried to scream, but it was choked off as a large hand was clamped over her mouth.

  Shoved roughly into the room, she wa
s pushed face down, among the summer wraps on the bed and pinned in a viselike grip.

  CHAPTER IX

  Indelible Evidence

  “GOOD work!” Nancy heard the woman thief exclaim. “Serves the little sneak right!”

  “I thought something was amiss up here,” replied her male accomplice, speaking with an exaggerated English accent.

  Still maintaining a tight hold on Nancy, her captor chuckled softly. “I fancy she’ll not interfere again soon.”

  His partner removed an armful of the coats and jackets, then rolled the bedspread tightly around Nancy. The woman piled the clothing on top of her.

  “Make sure she won’t meddle any more!” the woman cried.

  “No time, my dear,” the man answered. “We shall be forced to make a hasty exit. The maid will be returning.”

  “Then cut out that silly accent and let’s get out of here!” his companion muttered.

  Just when Nancy thought she surely would suffocate, the man suddenly released his grip. The couple raced from the room.

  Nancy struggled to untangle herself from the heavy bedspread and its burden of coats. When she finally got to her feet and stepped into the hall, the man and woman were not in sight. Just then the maid who had gone for the tea opened a door from the back stairway.

  “Gracious!” she exclaimed, staring at Nancy. “What happened to you?”

  For the first time Nancy realized how disheveled she must look. Her dress was rumpled and her hair mussed.

  “The woman who pretended to be ill is a thief! She and some man tried to smother me. Did you see anyone running out?”

  “No, miss,” the startled maid replied, setting her tray on a hall table.

  Nancy said, “Maybe they’re hiding in one of the bedrooms. Come on. Let’s look for them!”

  They searched the bedrooms, looking in closets and every possible hiding place until they were satisfied no one remained on the second floor. Nancy combed her hair and smoothed her dress before going downstairs. In the kitchen she found Tombar directing the caterers.

  “Guests aren’t allowed in here,” he said icily.