Eileen Darcy turned pale and began rearranging some papers on her desk.
“No, nothing yet,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Trixie said.
“So am I,” Honey added. “I guess we’d better be going. Thank you for lending me these books.” She gave Trixie a gentle nudge.
Trixie thanked Eileen Darcy, too, and the two girls left the office.
“Why did you start asking her about her father?” Honey whispered as they hurried toward the cafeteria.
Trixie looked at her friend in surprise. “Don’t you see? There is something about that catalog. Didn’t you notice how nervous she was when I asked about it? And how she changed the subject? I was kind of testing her to see how she’d react if I mentioned her father right after we talked about the catalog. You see, if—”
“Trixie!” Honey exclaimed. “You really do plot, don’t you? I mean, I never would have thought of that!”
Trixie laughed. “Sometimes you have to make clues, not just stumble on them the way we usually do. I’m disappointed, though, that she wouldn’t let us see the catalog. We’ve just got to get a look at it. I have another lead to track down, too. I want to talk to Bill Morgan.”
“Why?” Honey asked. “I’d rather stay clear of the Morgan family altogether.”
“I want to know more about those pictures Peter Ashbury wanted copies of,” Trixie replied, “and I’d like to get a look at the costumes again. If those pictures have been developed.... In fact,” Trixie mused, “I think I’ll run up to the newspaper office right now. Why don’t you go on ahead to the cafeteria and eat? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Before Honey could open her mouth to protest, Trixie had turned and was hurrying down the hall.
She ran up two steps at a time to the third floor of the school building, and arrived at the door of the Campus Clarion offices. The door was open, so she poked her head in.
“Hi!” she said to the blond girl sitting at one of the editorial desks. “Is Bill Morgan around?“
“He was just here,” the girl answered. “He said he had an errand to do but he’d be right back.”
“Mind if I wait a few minutes?” Trixie asked. “No, sit down.” The girl smiled pleasantly. “I’m Monica Anderson. You’re Trixie Belden, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Trixie answered. “I’m surprised—”
“Don’t be,” Monica interrupted. “Lots of kids in this school know about your detective work. You’ve become something of a celebrity, actually.” Monica laughed as Trixie blushed. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she said. “I’m a big mystery fan myself. I read every detective story I can get my hands on. Are you working on a case now?” she asked, leaning across the desk eagerly.
“I wish I knew,” Trixie sighed.
Just then, much to Trixie’s relief, Bill Morgan walked into the office. She jumped up to greet him. He was a tall, good-looking boy with sandy-colored hair and pale green eyes.
“Hi, Bill,” Trixie said, smiling. “I’m Trixie Belden.”
“Oh, yeah!” He smiled back. “I’ve heard my kid sister talk about you.”
I’m sure you have, Trixie thought grimly.
Monica got up from her desk. “I’ve got to run,” she said. “See you later, Bill. It was nice meeting you, Trixie.”
As Monica left, Trixie breathed a soft sigh of relief. She didn’t want to talk to Bill in front of her, especially since she was a mystery fan.
“So what can I do for you, Trixie Belden?”
Bill Morgan asked jovially. “If you want to work on the paper, I’m sorry, but freshmen—“
“Oh, no,” Trixie assured him. “I only came to ask you about some pictures you took of the costumes for the freshman class play.”
Bill eyed her suspiciously. “You’re the second person who’s asked me about those pictures.“
“Oh?” Trixie asked innocently.
“Yeah. The drama teacher’s boyfriend, Mr. Ashbury, wanted some copies of them. He offered to pay me a good price for them, too. But now—” Bill stopped and looked at Trixie again. “Why do you want them, anyway?”
“Actually,” Trixie began, groping frantically for an excuse, “my friend Di Lynch is playing Juliet, and I wanted to put together a kind of scrapbook of the play for her as a surprise. You know—” Trixie paused. “I thought the pictures would be a nice thing to add.”
“Yeah, well, sorry I can’t help you out.” Bill shrugged.
“Why not?” Trixie asked.
“I can’t exactly give you copies of pictures I don’t have,” Bill snapped.
“What do you mean, you don’t have them?“
“The film is gone—poof!” he cried, gesturing like a magician doing a disappearing act. “I thought I had left it in the camera, but when I came back here to develop it after school yesterday, it was gone. I’ve looked everywhere, and I’ve asked everyone who works on the paper, but it hasn’t turned up yet. I guess both you and Mr. Ashbury are out of luck—until I take some more pictures, that is, and Miss Darcy won’t let me do that until next week.”
“She won’t?” Trixie asked, trying hard to contain her excitement.
“Nope.” Bill shrugged. “I didn’t ask why, but it’s really not important. The Gazette doesn’t want the article for a couple of weeks yet, anyway. I was just going to write to Mr. Ashbury and tell him the film had been lost.“
“Did he say why he wanted the pictures?” Trixie asked, as casually as she could.
“No.” Bill shook his head. “You know, you certainly ask a lot of questions.”
“Just curious,” Trixie laughed lightly. “Well, I’d better run. I have to eat before rehearsal.” She left quickly, before Bill could become even more suspicious of her curiosity.
Trixie’s head was spinning as she walked down the stairs toward the cafeteria. I’ll bet that film isn’t lost, she thought excitedly. I’ll bet someone took it, and that someone could very well be Peter Ashbury! She wished she had asked for Ashbury’s address, but she hadn’t dared—Bill Morgan had been getting too suspicious as it was. I think I need a shift chart for this case, she giggled to herself.
Trixie glanced at her watch and realized that it was time for rehearsal and she hadn’t eaten her lunch yet. She hurried to the auditorium. It seemed that all she’d been doing that day was rushing from one place to the next. And now my stomach will be growling all afternoon, like Reddy when he sees a jackrabbit! She groaned at the thought.
But the afternoon flew by, and Trixie didn’t again think about missing lunch, until she met the rest of the Bob-Whites after school.
“Boy, am I famished!” she cried, climbing into the backseat of the station wagon. “I hope my lunch is still fresh.”
“That sounds like a typical Mart greeting,” Brian said, “but it has a definitely higher pitch. Where were you at lunch today, Trixie?”
“I had some things to do.” Trixie shrugged as she unwrapped a sandwich and eagerly took a bite. “You know,” she said between mouthfuls, “I’ll never understand how Moms gets this waxed paper to work right. It’s always been a complete mystery to me.”
Mart hooted. “Was everyone witness to that statement? Trixie admits that something is a complete mystery to her. How about this for your next case, Sherlock: ‘The Puzzling Predicament of Paraffined Paper’?”
“Mart, how does waxed paper get into a predicament?” Trixie asked, still laughing as Di got into the car.
“Sorry I’m late,” Di apologized, “but I forgot my script, and I had to run back and get it.“
“How are rehearsals going?” Brian asked.
Di groaned. “Only five weeks left, and there’s still so much to do! I’m never quite sure if I’m supposed to enter stage left and exit stage right—or versa vice—from one scene to the next.”
“I can understand why,” Jim chuckled, “especially since it’s vice versa."
“See?” Di wailed. “That’s another problem. I keep getting
my words mixed up.”
“Don’t worry,” Honey reassured her. “I’ve been watching you, and you’re doing fine. In another few weeks, you’ll be ready for Broadway—or Hollywood.”
“No, thanks!” Di cried. “I’ll settle for just being ready for the stage at Sleepyside High.” Brian had maneuvered the car out of the parking lot and was headed toward the veterinarian’s office. “I can hardly wait to see Bobby’s face when we bring Reddy home,” he said.
“We’ve all been anxious to get him back,” Trixie added. “I’ve missed that crazy dog.” Honey, who was sitting next to Trixie, nudged her gently in the side. She was dying to know what Trixie had found out from Bill Morgan about the pictures. Trixie gave Honey an I-can’t-wait-to-talk-to-you-either look as Brian pulled into Dr. Samet’s driveway.
Brian, Trixie, and Mart got out of the car. The old veterinarian met them at the doorway. “Come in, come in,” he said, “I have one very anxious Irish setter here who will be very glad to see you three.”
Dr. Samet was right. As the Belden trio entered the room, Reddy gave a happy bark, and as fast as he could with the cast still on his front leg, he hobbled over and gave them each a slurpy kiss as they bent down to hug him.
“Old Reddy certainly has a mind of his own,” Dr. Samet chuckled as he gave the Irish setter a playful rub on the neck.
“That is the understatement of the year,” Mart said. “He’s totally untrainable for anything, I’m afraid.”
“A true free spirit,” Dr. Samet agreed.
“Well, I think he behaves terribly!” a voice from the other side of the room interjected.
“Jane!” the veterinarian exclaimed.
Trixie, Brian, and Mart turned to meet Jane’s cool gaze.
“Well, he does,” she went on, “and I think it’s disgraceful when people don’t train their pets properly.”
Trixie felt the heat of outrage as her cheeks flushed a bright scarlet. She wanted to say something, but the anger seemed to bottle up her words, and she could only stare at Jane in shocked disbelief.
“He is well fed and well treated, Jane,” Dr. Samet said firmly. “It is not necessary to train a dog to sit and retrieve. It is only necessary to love him, and Reddy certainly gets plenty of affection. You owe the Beldens an apology; there was no need for such rudeness.”
It was Jane’s turn to feel uncomfortable, and she glanced guiltily at her uncle. “Sorry, Uncle David. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, and... and I’m sorry I was rude,” she added quickly to the three Beldens. Then she turned and left the room.
Dr. Samet turned to face the trio, a deep furrow creasing his brow. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her lately,” he apologized. “She’s usually so good with the animals—and with their owners. She’s been talking about going to vet school—Jane’s very good in math and science—” He rambled on for several more minutes, obviously troubled by his niece’s outburst. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you,” he said finally, “and I apologize again for Jane’s behavior.“
“That’s okay.” Trixie shrugged, although she was still seething. “Actually, when you said ‘math and science,’ it reminded me that I have an algebra quiz on Monday morning, and I forgot my book.”
“As you can see,” Mart volunteered, “Reddy isn’t the only irresponsible member of the Belden household.”
“Well, we’d better swing by school and pick up your book,” Brian sighed. He thanked Dr. Samet for all his help, then gently picked Reddy up in his arms.
Trixie and Mart added their thanks as they helped Brian get Reddy out the door and down the front steps.
“What took so long?” Jim asked as they all repositioned themselves to make room for the disabled Irish setter.
“You wouldn’t believe it!” Trixie finally exploded as she related the encounter with Jane to Jim, Honey, and Di.
“I don’t know what kind of bee she has in her bonnet,” Jim said, “but whatever it is, it has a very nasty sting sometimes.”
“Do you have some kind of beef with her, Trix?” Mart asked.
“Not that I know of,” Trixie said hotly, “but I’ve had just about enough of her.”
“It’s because she’s so jealous,” Honey explained quietly.
“I know,” Di added quietly. “She wanted the part of Juliet so badly. She even came to me and asked me to quit the play.”
“She did?” Trixie exclaimed in wide-eyed amazement. “And here Honey and I have been keeping quiet about what she’s been saying!”
Di sighed again. “I—I didn’t want to tell you,” she went on, a catch in her voice, “because I was afraid that you all agreed with what she thought—that she could play the role much better than I could.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Trixie exclaimed.
“Oh, Di,” Honey said sympathetically, “of course we don’t think that.”
“Why are we going back toward town?” Jim asked suddenly, realizing that Brian was not headed for home.
“Because our scatterbrained sibling neglected to bring one of her textbooks home,” Mart explained teasingly, hoping to break some of the tension the discussion about Jane had created.
“Gleeps!” Trixie cried. “I forgot about it again! If you hadn’t remembered to come back, Brian....”
“I don’t think you are fully cognizant of the fact that you are truly blessed, Beatrix,” Mart said. “Without the assistance of your two highly responsible elder brothers, I’m afraid you would be totally incapable of—”
“All right, all right.” Trixie sighed in exasperation. “I can’t help it I get sidetracked sometimes.”
“Sidetracked!” Mart hooted. “I didn’t think that muddled mass of gray matter had more than one track, Miss Belden.”
Brian pulled up in front of the school. Trixie made a face at Mart, then hopped out of the car and ran up the front steps of the building. Fortunately, the doors were still open.
Trixie hurried down the hall to her locker and quickly found the necessary book. I don't know why I even bother trying to study this, she thought as she headed back toward the exit.
As she passed the drama club office, she noticed a thin stream of light spilling into the darkened hallway. Miss Darcy must be working late, Trixie thought. I should stop and tell her that we just picked up Reddy. She knocked softly and peeked around the edge of the partly open door.
Eileen Darcy looked up quickly and started in surprise. She dropped something from her hand, and it fell to the floor, catching the light in sparkling silvery rays.
“I—I didn’t mean to scare you,” Trixie stammered, her eyes on the shiny stone lying at her feet. She bent down to retrieve it. Eileen Darcy jumped up from her chair, lunged for the stone, and snatched it from Trixie’s fingers. The costume she’d been holding in her lap fell limply to the floor.
“Don’t you knock before bursting in on someone?” the drama teacher demanded as she picked up the costume.
“I—I did knock,” Trixie answered timidly, and went on to explain why she had stopped.
Miss Darcy’s tone softened slightly after hearing Trixie’s explanation. “I’m sorry. I was just very startled,” she said, nervously smoothing out the wrinkled skirt of the velvet gown she held in her hands. “I was working late, resewing and securing some of the decorations on these lovely costumes. They were loose—it must have happened during shipping.”
Trixie nodded, but her eyes wandered to the desk top, where a small pile of bright gems and a pair of scissors lay. Miss Darcy caught her look. Dropping the dress on the chair, she took Trixie by the arm and steered her firmly toward the door.
“Thank you for letting me know about Reddy,” Eileen Darcy said rapidly. “I’ll walk you to the entrance.” They left the office and headed down the corridor. At the large glass doors,
Miss Darcy waved a quick good-bye, then turned and hurried back toward her office.
In the car, the rest of the Bob-Whites were chatting and laughing and playing with Reddy. Trixie
joined in the fun, not wanting to explain what had just happened until she’d had time to think about it.
Brian took Di home, then headed east on Glen Road toward Manor House.
“Why don’t you drop us off at the end of our drive?” Jim suggested. “I know you’re anxious to get Reddy home.”
“Okay,” Brian agreed. “Thanks.”
The Beldens waved good-bye to their friends as they headed for Crabapple Farm.
Bobby must have been waiting at the back door, for as the station wagon crunched to a halt on the gravel driveway, he came flying out, flung open the car door, and threw his arms around Reddy’s neck.
Trixie, Brian, and Mart got out of the car and stood watching the confused scene. Reddy was wriggling from head to tail and trying to cover every inch of Bobby with his sloppy kisses. Bobby was giggling and crying and trying to hug Reddy, all at the same time.
Though her eyes were moist, Trixie burst into laughter and dove into the tangle to hug her brother and the frantic dog.
“Hey, Trixie,” Bobby gulped happily. “Reddy’s not mad at me!”
“Of course not, honey,” Trixie laughed, fending off the exuberant dog. “He loves you!” Somehow, the three older Beldens untangled the boy and the dog, and Brian carried Reddy inside to his waiting bed.
Dinner that evening was a hectic affair, but no one minded. It was far past his bedtime when Bobby finally settled down enough to fall asleep.
Trixie fell into bed, exhausted by the events of the day. She lay awake for some time, however, going over the encounter with Miss Darcy in the drama club office. Her thoughts became more and more confused, until finally she decided to stop trying to figure things out.
I do know one thing, though, Trixie thought grimly. I don’t know why, but I do know that Miss Darcy wasn’t sewing those decorations onto the costumes—she was cutting them off!
New York City Adventure ● 8
HELEN BELDEN gently shook her daughter’s shoulder, rousing her out of a deep sleep. “Trixie,” she said.
“Wh-what?” Trixie asked, bleary-eyed and confused. “Moms, isn’t it Saturday?” she mumbled, glancing at the bedside clock.
The Mystery of the Velvet Gown Page 7
