The Thirteenth Pearl

by Carolyn G. Keene

  Finally Mrs. Mise brought out a pretty but subdued kimono, an obi, a pair of white stockings, and sandals. When the young detective was ready, she went downstairs. Her father and Mr. Mise were astounded at the change in her appearance.

  “It’s a perfect disguise!” Mr. Mise marveled. “I would never recognize you.”

  Mr. Drew joked about his lovely little Japanese daughter. Then she and Mr. Mise set off in his car. They arrived at the offices of World Wide Gems about ten minutes earlier than Mr. Drew and Mrs. Mise.

  Mr. Kampura had a very attractive office furnished partly in Japanese and partly in Western style. Nancy bowed low when she was introduced, but on purpose her name was so slurred that no one could understand it.

  Just then a man walked into the room and stopped short when he saw the visitors. “So sorry to interrupt,” he said with a smile. “I was not aware that you had guests.”

  Mr. Kampura seemed uncomfortable at the interruption. “This is Mr. Taro, the president of our organization,” he introduced the pleasant-looking Japanese man. “May I present—”

  But Mr. Taro, not wishing to disturb the meeting, had already turned and slipped out the door. Nancy breathed a muted sigh of relief, since she did not want her name repeated.

  “Nancy, it’s a perfect disguise!” Mr. Mise exclaimed.

  “What can I do for you?” Mr. Kampura asked, impatience showing in his voice.

  “I will be brief,” Mr. Drew replied, realizing that Mr. Kampura did not wish his callers to stay long. “I am a lawyer in the United States, and it is important that I find Mrs. Tanya Rossmeyer. I understand she is probably in this country buying jewelry.”

  Mr. Kampura said nothing, so Mr. Drew went on, “It is essential that I discuss a legal matter with her. I have been told that she has purchased a good bit of jewelry from your company. Can you tell me where she is?”

  There was a long pause, then Mr. Kampura said, “Yes, I know of Mrs. Rossmeyer. She was a client of ours. But I believe she was in Europe recently and met a tragic deathl”

  CHAPTER VI

  Conked Out!

  FOR several moments after Mr. Kampura’s shocking announcement about Mrs. Rossmeyer, there was silence. Nancy and her father looked at each other, then at the Mises.

  Finally Mr. Drew asked, “Are you sure of your information? We heard nothing about this in our country.”

  Mr. Kampura rose from his chair and said, “I have no details. Her death was discussed at a jeweler’s conference. As you know, she was a lover of gems and, therefore, was well known to the trade.”

  “In a company as large and successful as yours,” Mr. Drew said, “I suppose you have a good deal of thievery.”

  “Oh, no, not at all,” Mr. Kampura replied. “We have very tight security and little loss.” Impatiently, he stepped from behind his desk and went toward the door. The Drews and the Mises realized that he did not wish to prolong the meeting, and they followed him.

  “I’m from a rather small town in the United States,” Mr. Drew said. “However, a Japanese man lives there who is an expert on gems. His name is Moto. Do you know him?”

  “No,” Mr. Kampura replied, “I have never heard of him.”

  He opened the door, and the visitors thanked him, said good-by, and left. No remarks were exchanged as they went down in the elevator and out the building.

  When they were seated once more in the Mises car, Mrs. Mise spoke up. “Nancy, I am sure that Mr. Kampura did not discover your disguise. I am very glad.”

  “So am I,” Nancy remarked. “I have a hunch that Mr. Kampura was not telling the truth about either Mrs. Rossmeyer or Mr. Moto. Let’s try to find out about Mrs. Rossmeyer through other sources.”

  Mr. Mise directed them to a Tokyo newspaper office that published an English edition. They looked through file copies for any notices of the socialite’s death. There was nothing, and the group drove home.

  Mr. Drew made various overseas telephone calls but could not verify the report that Mr. Kampura had given them. Finally Nancy had an idea.

  “Dad, you remember Renee Marcel who attended school with me? She was from Paris and now is a society reporter for a paper there. Why don’t I get in touch with her? Surely if Mrs. Rossmeyer died, Renee would know about it.”

  “Good thinking. Phone Renee and see what she can find out.”

  Nancy put in the call and surprised her friend. The two girls chatted about personal matters for a few moments, then Nancy asked about Mrs. Rossmeyer.

  “Hold the line,” Renee answered. “I will make a quick search.” She was gone no more than two minutes. “Nancy,” she said upon her return, “this story is not true. Night before last, Mrs. Rossmeyer gave a large dinner party in Paris. I’ll try to get in touch with her and let you know more details if I can.”

  Nancy gave Renee the Mises’ telephone number and waited for an answer. It came after lunch.

  “I learned that Mrs. Rossmeyer is in good health,” Renee reported. “She told a friend that for personal reasons she was going into hiding for a short time.”

  “Have you any idea where?” Nancy asked.

  Renee said that one source had mentioned Japan, another the United States. Later that day, the girl phoned again. She had spoken to the porter in Mrs. Rossmeyer’s hotel. He had heard her say the previous day that she was heading for the airport to fly to Japan to the Mikomoto Pearl Farm. It was her expectation to make some large purchases.

  Nancy was elated about the news. “Could we go there soon and verify the report?” she asked Mr. Mise.

  “It is a long way from here,” he said. “But a friend of mine runs a seaplane that he charters to groups. Let me call him and see when the next flight is.”

  After a short phone conversation, their host hung up with a smile. “The plane is leaving for the pearl farm early tomorrow morning.”

  “Wonderful!” Nancy exclaimed. “We’re in luck!”

  Conversation now turned from Mrs. Rossmeyer to Mr. Kampura. Had he lied intentionally to throw the Drews off the scent? Was Mrs. Rossmeyer in some way connected with World Wide Gems? Was he trying to protect her? And why had he denied knowing Mr. Moto? Had they not been his tire tracks that showed the Rising Sun insignia in the rear of the jewelry shop?

  Nancy mentioned that she felt it was probably wise to contact the police at this point. “They may have records on World Wide Gems, Mr. Kampura, and Mrs. Rossmeyer.”

  Mr. Mise said he would take Nancy to headquarters but suggested that perhaps she would like to remove her Japanese disguise.

  “I’ll be happy to,” Nancy said.

  It took her nearly half an hour to restore her skin to the American look, to lighten the blackened eyebrows, and to change into her own clothes. Then she and Mr. Mise set off. He knew the chief of police personally and explained their case, translating for Nancy what he learned.

  “It is not generally known, but World Wide Gems is under surveillance in several countries,” the chief told them. “As you heard in the United States, the organization as a whole is not suspected of any wrongdoing, but certain members are thought to have connections with underworld characters. The police are watching carefully.”

  “Is Mr. Kampura under suspicion?” Nancy asked.

  “Not so far. Why?”

  “Because we think that he visited Mr. Moto’s jewelry shop in River Heights just before the jeweler disappeared without a trace. But Mr. Kampura denied knowing Mr. Moto. He also told us Mrs. Rossmeyer had a fatal accident, which does not seem to be true.”

  The chief nodded thoughtfully. “We will try to find out more about Mr. Kampura.”

  Nancy asked the chief about Mr. Moto, but as far as he knew, the man had not come to Japan.

  “I’m afraid he was kidnapped,” Nancy said. “It seems strange that Mr. Kikichi, whom he left in charge of his shop, had not heard anything from his friend after he left.”

  “It is possible,” the officer said, “that Mr. Moto, for some reason of his own, di
sappeared in a hurry, and therefore left his room in a shambles. Has anyone investigated the possibility that he might have gone into hiding?”

  Nancy admitted that they had not thought of this. “But why should he?” she asked. “He has had the shop in River Heights for many years and is highly respected.”

  “Even the finest people can have enemies,” the officer said with a smile. “They might be connected with business, or family, or even friends.”

  “But Mr. Moto is such a nice man. I can’t imagine his having any personal enemies. I’m sure that if something happened to him, it was because of the thievery going on in his business.”

  The chief promised to let her know if any leads to Mr. Moto’s disappearance turned up, and Nancy and Mr. Mise thanked him, then left.

  After their visit to police headquarters, there was still enough time for the Drews to do some shopping and to go to Mr. Tetsuo Moto’s former residence to see if they could learn a clue from the neighbors.

  Mr. Mise picked up Mr. Drew, who had visited a business associate during his daughter’s trip to police headquarters, then he drove the Drews to the Ginza, Tokyo’s main shopping street. Nancy’s first purchase was a lovely pearl necklace for Hannah Gruen. The salesman showed them matching earrings and suggested that the lucky receiver of the necklace could surely use earrings to go with it.

  Mr. Drew smiled. “All right, we’ll take them for Hannah, too.”

  Pretty pins of pearls intertwined with enameled leaves were selected for Bess and George. Nancy’s gift to Ned Nickerson was a pearl stick pin, and she bought cufflinks for Burt and Dave with money the girls had given her. The Drews concluded their shopping with a lovely pearl and silver bracelet for Mr. Drew’s sister, Eloise.

  While they were waiting for the articles to be gift-wrapped, Nancy wandered around the store looking at pictures on the walls. Suddenly she stopped in front of an oil painting of a queen. She was wearing a necklace with a huge pinkish pearl in the middle and smaller-sized white ones on both sides of it.

  “I wonder if this is like Mrs. Rossmeyer’s,” Nancy thought and looked at the date of the picture. It was a hundred years old.

  “This type of necklace must have been popular with royalty in those days,” the girl mused.

  Just then Mr. Mise said he would bring the car to the door. After he left, the Drews examined various art objects that were displayed throughout the shop. They saw a vase that was very similar to the one belonging to Professor Mise and his wife in River Heights, which Togo had inadvertently broken.

  “Let’s buy it and have it sent to them!” Nancy urged her father. He agreed. When the transaction was taken care of, they walked out of the shop and climbed into Mr. Mise’s car.

  He drove them to the street where Mr. Moto’s brother had lived. They found the small apartment building facing one of the many streams that crisscrossed the city.

  “Suppose we question the neighbors first,” Nancy suggested. “I’ll go with Mrs. Mise and Dad with Mr. Mise, so we each have a translator.”

  “Good idea,” Mr. Drew agreed. “We’ll meet out here when we’re finished.”

  It was more than an hour before the four assembled in the street again. Their search had been unsuccessful. A number of people had known Tetsuo Moto, but could tell the Drews no more than that he had moved to the country. Next, the group went to all neighborhood stores and questioned the owners, but again in vain. There was no trace of the jeweler’s brother!

  “We’ll just have to rely on the police to track him down,” Mr. Drew said to Nancy, who was very disappointed. “I’ll call them again tonight.”

  She nodded. “Even though I believe Mr. Moto was kidnapped, I was still hoping to pick up some information from his brother, Tetsuo. Well—” she sighed, “maybe we’ll find a clue elsewhere.”

  Early the following morning the Mises and the Drews set out for a visit to a pearl farm. They drove to the dock where the seaplane was anchored and joined a group of people for the take-off. The journey was pleasant and the scenery interesting, with woods and mountains in the background.

  “Tell me something about pearl farms,” Nancy begged Mr. Mise.

  “I will be glad to,” he said. “You see, there are two kinds of beds, those in which the oysters are raised until they are large enough to be used in pearl culture, and those in which they are kept after insertion of the nucleus.”

  “Today we’ll see one of the latter kind, won’t we?” Nancy asked.

  “That is right. They must be in an area where nutritious plankton is plentiful and where the currents can flow freely around the oyster,” Mr. Mise went on, “but they shouldn’t be near mouths of rivers that pump pollution into the sea.”

  “Should the water be a certain temperature?”

  “Oh, yes. The oysters tolerate a range between fifty and seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit. Since the farm waters reach temperatures below fifty degrees in the winter, the rafts and baskets must be moved farther south. To people in the culture region, these caravans that are pulled by boats are a familiar sight.”

  Nancy laughed. “I wonder if the oysters enjoy the trip.”

  “I suppose we will never know,” Mr. Mise said with a chuckle.

  “How about depth?” Nancy asked. “Does that influence the production of nacre?”

  “Definitely. In shallow water, more layers develop, but they tend to be of inferior quality.”

  “What is considered shallow?”

  “About seven to ten feet. You see, when water temperatures are between fifty-nine and seventy-seven degrees in the summer, increased nacre production is encouraged. But in the winter, the oysters are lowered to a depth of about seventeen to twenty feet. This insures a lovely pink color and better quality.”

  “How old are the oysters when they are injected with the nucleus?” Nancy inquired.

  “About two years.”

  After a long flight, the pilot’s voice sounded over the intercom. He announced that they would be landing soon. He spoke first in English, then in Japanese.

  Suddenly the seaplane began to lurch.

  “What’s happening?” Nancy asked apprehensively, looking at her father.

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Drew replied. “I can’t imagine—”

  The craft lurched again, and the smooth hum of the engines seemed to change. The passengers were tossed about, and a woman screamed. An engine conked out, then the other. Nancy and her father grabbed each other’s hands. Were they about to crash?

  CHAPTER VII

  Chase in the Park

  THERE were tense and fearful moments as the plane descended at a quick rate toward the sea. All passengers were strapped in and put their heads in their laps, awaiting the crash.

  But the pilot was skillful. He managed to touch the water lightly, then lifted the craft so it bounced along the shoreline like a stone being tossed across the water.

  He finally managed to land safely, and no one was injured. Relieved, the passengers aboard began to talk excitedly.

  Mr. and Mrs. Mise congratulated Nancy and her father for having remained so calm. “I can see that you are experienced travelers,” Mr. Mise said as the seaplane floated tranquilly to a dock.

  “Good thing we didn’t crash,” Mr. Drew said, “or the pearl-making oysters here would have gotten a dreadful scare!”

  The others laughed, then Mr. Mise asked the pilot what had gone wrong and translated the answer.

  “He feels that someone tampered with the engines. After a complete examination, he will let us know.”

  Mr. Drew said he would appreciate this, as his group intended to fly back to Tokyo that same day. “Meanwhile, we’ll tour the pearl farm.”

  A guide took the visitors offshore in a boat, showing them the long bamboo rafts that contained the oyster beds.

  “The oysters hang from the rafts in wire-mesh or plastic baskets,” he explained. “They feed on plankton and must be cleaned from time to time. We have a crew here that inspects the bed
s daily. The men must keep an eye on worn or broken ropes and inspect the oysters for disease.”

  “Who injects the nuclei?” a white-haired Englishman asked.

  “That’s done by young ladies called tamairesan. Freely translated, that means Miss Pearl-pusher,” the guard replied with a smile. “The girls open the oysters carefully with a special tool. After the operation, the oysters are allowed to rest for a while in quiet waters about seventeen feet deep.”

  “It must be quite a shock to their systems,” Nancy declared.

  “It is, and many eject the nucleus. We have x-ray equipment that tells us which oysters do, and we do not bother raising those.”

  “I see some floating buoys way out there,” Nancy remarked. “What are they for?”

  “Those are experimental glass fiber buoys, roughly one foot in diameter, which will eventually replace wooden or bamboo rafts because they are more durable and economical,” the guide replied.

  “When are the pearls ready for harvesting?” Mr. Drew inquired.

  “They are ‘beached’ after about two to three years. This takes place in the arid winter when the pearl-sac cells have stopped secreting nacre, and the top layer is completely crystallized.”

  “I’ll bet that’s an exciting occasion,” Nancy remarked.

  “Yes, indeed. The oysters are opened one by one with small knives, and out come pearls in many sizes and different qualities. About twenty percent cannot be used at all, and truly precious pearls are quite rare.”

  “Can you produce a bigger pearl by inserting a larger nucleus?” a blond woman asked.

  “Yes, but that is risky financially because large nuclei kill many oysters.”

  “I feel sorry for the poor oysters,” Nancy said. “For two to three years they are irritated by the foreign object inside them.”

  “True,” the guide admitted. “But then, nature does the same thing. Man does not harm the oyster any more than nature does.”

  When their tour was over, Nancy and her father spoke to the manager of the pearl farm and asked if Mrs. Tanya Rossmeyer had visited the Mikimoto Farm.