Designs in Crime

by Carolyn Keene

  “Evidence of what?” Mimi asked.

  “Apparently, Angel taped every phone conversation he had with you,” Nancy lied. She just hoped Mimi would believe her. “It’s only a matter of time before the police—”

  “I spoke with the police early this morning,” Mimi interrupted her. “By the time we finished talking they apologized for disturbing me. You see, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Just then two security guards burst into the hallway, cutting their conversation short.

  “Escort Miss Drew back to the audience,” Mimi told them. “And make sure she stays there.”

  • • •

  After the show the girls joined Joanna for lunch at Rumpelmayer’s, an old-fashioned soda shop across from Central Park that served triple-decker sandwiches and spectacular ice cream sundaes. As they ate, Nancy told Joanna and Bess about her encounter with Mimi.

  “She sounds harmless,” said Bess. “Do you really think she killed Angel?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said, shaking her head. “It’s possible that she was his partner, but she has a hard face to read. I wonder if the police have been able to identify the handkerchief yet.”

  “I can’t believe you’re investigating a murder,” Joanna said, spooning a walnut from her sundae. “Now that Angel’s gone, the theft of my gown is minor in comparison.”

  Nancy nodded. Angel’s death had put a lot of things in perspective.

  The workers at Beau Bridal were somber when Nancy and Bess arrived after lunch. The girls went into Beau’s office to tell him what had happened at Mimi’s show. Then Bess went off for a fitting, while Nancy went out to the workroom.

  In the sunny workroom, Mrs. Chong was supervising final fittings for Beau’s show.

  “You’re finished,” she said, tapping Isis on the shoulder. “But don’t you dare be late next week!”

  As Nancy watched Mrs. Chong turn to a worktable to cut out a pattern piece, she realized how much the old woman had grown on her. Her brusque manner was just her way of getting things done.

  “Terrible week,” Mrs. Chong said. She stopped cutting and examined the scissors in her hand. “Angel is gone. And the killer took my best scissors.”

  “You’ll get the scissors back,” Nancy pointed out. “The police will return them after the trial.” If there is a trial, she thought. So far, the police didn’t even have a suspect.

  “Not those scissors,” Mrs. Chong said. “The ones the killer stole.”

  “Wait a minute.” Nancy went over to the table and looked down at the open box of scissors. “There are two pairs of scissors missing?”

  Mrs. Chong nodded. “Killer must have stolen one.”

  Nancy wondered why the killer would have made off with a pair of scissors. A thief would have taken the entire box. “Did you tell the police about the missing scissors?” she asked.

  “I didn’t waste their time,” Mrs. Chong said, scowling. “Let them find Angel’s killer instead.”

  “But the police should know about them,” Nancy said, heading for the phone in Beau’s office.

  Detective Noonan listened while Nancy told him about the missing scissors. “It appears that the killer took them,” she told him. “Can you search Mimi’s studio or home?”

  “Not without a solid link between Mimi and the crime,” he said.

  “What about the handkerchief?” she asked.

  “The blood on the handkerchief was Angel’s,” Noonan said. “It was the only bodily fluid on the cloth. We can’t connect the handkerchief to Mimi. The intruder at Ortiz’s apartment was a man. And when I interviewed Ms. Piazza, everything she said checked out. Frankly, I don’t think Mimi Piazza is a killer.”

  As soon as the detective said goodbye, Nancy placed a call to her father in River Heights.

  “I was going to call you at Eloise’s apartment this evening,” said Carson Drew. “I’ve been talking to people about Michael Rockwell. It appears his reputation is spotless, though his son had a scuffle with the law a few years back.”

  “Tyler?” Nancy said. “What happened?”

  “He was charged with breaking and entering when he was a teenager. The charges were eventually dropped, but it seems the incident created a breach between father and son.”

  Nancy considered the information long after she’d said goodbye and hung up the phone. The feud between the Rockwell men was still going on. And it seemed that Joanna was stuck between them.

  “What’s happening?” Beau asked, entering the office with two bolts of cloth in his arms.

  After updating him on the case, Nancy mentioned her suspicions about the Rockwell men. “It may sound crazy, but one of the Rockwells may have something to do with the disappearance of Joanna’s gown. They’re feuding, and Joanna’s wedding seems to be the battleground.”

  “I had no idea that things were so bad with Joanna’s family,” Beau said. “But I can’t imagine Michael Rockwell working with Angel.”

  “I can’t, either,” Nancy agreed.

  “What about the intruder at Angel’s apartment?” Beau asked hopefully.

  Nancy considered the physique of the Rockwell men, then shook her head. “Joanna’s father and brother are much taller than the guy in Angel’s apartment.”

  • • •

  That night, as Nancy watched Tyler perform on stage at the Players Theater, she felt a twinge of sympathy for Joanna’s brother. Here he was, opening in his first off-Broadway show, and his father had chosen not to attend. Ironically, the show was about a family that had split up.

  “My father is dead.” Tyler spoke his lines somberly, but with a great deal of conviction. “He died the day he walked out that door.”

  Tears glimmered in the actor’s eyes, and Nancy was moved by his performance.

  After the show, Nancy, Bess, Joanna, and Sam huddled in the small actors dressing room backstage to congratulate Tyler.

  Nancy recognized the other actors who drifted in and out. Some carried bouquets, others were chatting with friends.

  “I’m sorry Dad couldn’t make it,” Joanna said as she gave her brother a hug. “You were great!”

  “Thanks,” Tyler said. “I’m glad you could make it, with all the wedding hoopla going on.”

  “Are you kidding?” Joanna said. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  “It’s a very moving show,” Bess said. “I haven’t cried so much for ages.”

  “Your father should see it,” Sam said thoughtfully. “I think it would hit home.”

  “There’s little chance of that.” Tyler frowned. “He’s too busy playing billionaire—when he’s not telling you how to plan your wedding.”

  “Right now Dad’s bossiness is the last thing on my mind,” Joanna said sadly. “My gown is still missing—the one with Mom’s pearls.”

  “Why are you taking it so hard?” Tyler asked.

  Joanna’s green eyes sparkled with tears. “For some reason, I feel as if I’ve let Mom down. And I’m worried about you. You should be in the wedding, Tyler. Mom would have wanted it.”

  Tyler bristled, clearly uncomfortable with his sister’s suggestion.

  “Don’t pressure the guy on the night of his big debut,” Sam said. “Now—take off your makeup and come celebrate with us.”

  “Great idea,” Joanna agreed. “I’ll get your coat. Where’s your locker?”

  Tyler paused, then gestured vaguely behind him. “It’s over there.” Nancy turned and noticed the name Rockwell written on tape on a battered locker door. Apparently, Tyler hadn’t bothered to bring a padlock for it. Clear plastic wrap stuck out from the bottom, as if the locker was overloaded.

  Before she or Joanna could go to it, Tyler ran his hand through his hair and said, “Look, I’m tired. I’d better take a raincheck.”

  Joanna protested, but Tyler was adamant. Finally she gave up, kissed her brother on the cheek, and said, “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Sis,” Tyler said quietly.

&n
bsp; • • •

  After a night of restless sleep, Nancy awoke early Friday morning. Bess slept quietly in the twin bed across the room. Tucking the soft comforter under her chin, Nancy stared at the ceiling and thought about the Rockwell family. She knew she had to be missing something important.

  She knew that Michael Rockwell had been feuding with his son for years—probably since the time that Tyler was arrested for breaking and entering.

  Just then she remembered crawling through the dark airshaft. The gown could have been stolen by an outsider.

  Her mind flashed to Tyler, last night in the dressing room. She remembered Tyler’s locker. It was the one with plastic wrap sticking out. It was just like the plastic that covered dresses that were wheeled through the garment district.

  “Oh, no!” She sat up in bed.

  “What’s wrong?” Bess asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “Get dressed,” Nancy said as she threw back the covers. “We’re about to solve another piece of the puzzle.”

  “Give me three minutes,” Bess muttered.

  By the time the girls arrived at the Players Theater, it was barely nine o‘clock.

  “The place looks dead,” Bess said, peering into the dark box office.

  “Let’s try the stage door,” Nancy said.

  They pounded hard on the side door, then waited. Finally, it swung open. “What is it?” asked a gray-haired man. From his uniform, Nancy guessed that he was a custodian.

  “We left something in the men’s dressing room,” Nancy told him. “And we need it right away. It’s urgent.”

  The man rolled his eyes, then held the door open for them. “Come on,” he said. “I haven’t got all day.” The janitor followed the girls to the room.

  Nancy’s pulse raced as she darted toward the locker marked Rockwell. She gave the handle a tug, and the door swung open. Inside, she found an ocean of white under clear plastic wrap.

  She reached in and pulled out a white dress with hundreds of glimmering antique seed pearls. “It’s Joanna’s gown!”

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  YOU FOUND IT!” Bess cried, patting Nancy on the shoulder. “You figured it all out!”

  The custodian scratched his head, confused. “Is that a costume?” he asked.

  “More or less,” came a voice from the doorway. Nancy turned to see Tyler. He stepped into the room, tugging his sister behind him.

  “What’s the big surprise?” Joanna stumbled to a halt when she saw Nancy and Bess. “Did Tyler drag you guys here, too?” she asked, then gasped when her eyes lit on the gown in Nancy’s arms.

  “My gown!” Joanna let out a whoop of joy as she rushed across the room to take the gown. Sliding one hand under the plastic, she touched the shimmering seed pearls and counted the larger ones along the neckline.

  “Mom’s pearls are here, safe and sound, and the gown looks lovely,” Joanna said, astounded. “But how did it get here?”

  “I brought it here,” Tyler confessed. “Nancy must have figured out the truth, which is—well, I owe you all an apology. I took the gown from Beau’s studio.”

  “You did?” Confused, Joanna frowned.

  Tyler’s face turned red as he nodded. “I got through the lobby door of Beau’s building with a credit card. The studio door was unlocked, and the place was quiet, though I knew someone was working in that little room in the corner.”

  That would have been Mrs. Chong, Nancy realized as she listened to his explanation.

  “I knew the vault was impossible to open,” Tyler continued, “so I sneaked into the workroom and climbed through the air shaft.”

  “But how did you know it led to the vault?” Nancy asked.

  “I’d been in Beau’s studio before,” Tyler explained. “I came with Joanna once for a fitting. I noticed that vent in the vault. It struck me that the airshaft would be an easy way for a crook to get into the vault.”

  “Why did you do it?” Joanna asked him. There was a catch in her voice and anguish in her eyes.

  “When Dad insisted on running your wedding, I couldn’t stand it,” Tyler admitted. “I wanted to see the look on his face when the gown of the century turned up missing.”

  “But your plan backfired,” Nancy said.

  Tyler nodded. “After Sam dragged me into the wedding rehearsal, and after you guys came to my show last night . . .” He stared down at the floor, ashamed. “I realized that I’d messed up, big time.” He turned to his sister. “I was hurting you—the one person who really cares about me.

  Touching the gown, he added, “Besides, Mom would want you to wear her pearls on the most important day of your life.”

  Joanna bit her lip, as if holding back her anger. “It was a lousy thing to do, Tyler,” she told her brother. “I don’t know how you could pull such a stunt—even to get back at Dad.” Joanna paused then, as if collecting herself. “Right now I just want to get this dress to a safe place.”

  “But there’s still the matter of catching Angel’s murderer,” Nancy said, turning to Joanna. “And with your help, I’d like to lay a trap to snag the killer—whoever it is!”

  • • •

  Together, Nancy, Bess, Joanna, and Tyler took the bridal gown and piled into the Rockwell limousine, which was waiting outside the theater. Following Nancy’s plan, they went straight to the Rockwell apartment, where they were met by the usual army of doormen and guards.

  “You were right about this building,” Bess said as they streamed through the lobby, following a guard to the Rockwells’ private elevator. “It’s got to be one of the safest places in New York.”

  Nancy nodded as the elevator doors whooshed shut. “That’s why Joanna’s gown is going to stay here until tomorrow’s wedding—though we’ll need to make everyone think that the gown is sitting in Beau’s studio.”

  Inside the spacious apartment, Joanna asked the cook to prepare brunch for everyone, while Nancy sat down beside the phone in the library and called Beau’s studio.

  “We found Joanna’s gown!” Nancy told him. “And Joanna’s willing to help us catch Angel’s killer.”

  Beau was thrilled to hear about the gown, though he said he never would have guessed that Tyler had taken it. By the time Nancy and Beau concocted a plan, the Rockwell cook had laid out trays of food on the dining room table. There were platters of eggs and Canadian bacon, bowls of fruit, and baskets of warm muffins and danishes.

  “I just spoke to Sam,” Joanna said as she served herself a healthy portion of eggs. “He’s ecstatic about the gown. He said to thank you a million times, Nancy. You’ve been a big help.”

  “Beau is sending Mrs. Chong over to take care of any last-minute alterations on the gown,” Nancy told everyone as she buttered a steaming cranberry muffin. “He’s also one hundred percent behind the plan.”

  “What are you going to use as bait?” Tyler asked.

  “Beau is going to wrap up the bridal gown they have at the studio—Joanna’s second choice,” Nancy explained. “We’ll put it in his office, so it’s not too difficult to get to.”

  “That’s the part I don’t understand,” Joanna said as she passed the eggs to Bess. “Why would the killer bother? Why would anyone return to Beau’s studio just to steal my gown?”

  “If Mimi is the accomplice, she might come back. I twisted the truth when I met her yesterday at the fashion show,” Nancy said. “Mimi thinks Angel taped their phone conversations. I told her that Beau has the tapes locked up in his office.”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. “That’s some motivation. If Mimi was Angel’s partner, she’ll have to go after those tapes eventually. I’m surprised she didn’t try last night.”

  “With her show yesterday it would have been too hectic. I’m sure she was partying and busy late into the night,” Nancy explained.

  “With the wedding gown right there, I doubt if Mimi could resist taking it,” Bess added.

  “Bess and I will be watching from the storage room next to Beau’s
office. If Mimi’s not the guilty party, maybe we’ll snag the guy who searched Angel’s apartment.”

  “I know word travels fast in the fashion world,” Tyler said, “but how can you be sure Angel’s partner will hear about Joanna’s gown in time?”

  “The power of the press,” Nancy said, smiling. “Joanna’s going to call Delia Rogers as soon as we finish eating. We’ll hold a press conference at Beau’s studio today at three o‘clock. A story this hot should merit a special feature on ‘Fashion Flash.’ ”

  • • •

  The day flew by as Nancy and Bess arranged the press conference at Beau’s studio. With reporters wanting statements and last-minute wedding questions for the bride, the phone at the apartment rang constantly.

  Nancy and Bess also got to meet the two bridesmaids they had stood in for. While Joanna was sequestered with Mrs. Chong, Nancy and Bess coached the girls on the details of the next day’s ceremony.

  By the time three o‘clock rolled around they were ready and waiting at Beau Bridal. The reception area of the studio was crowded with reporters. Nancy and Bess stood in the doorway of the workroom, watching with interest.

  Delia Rogers was at the center of the swarming pack, tossing off questions in her rapid-fire manner. “When did you find the gown?” she asked. “Where was it? Is it damaged?”

  “The gown is in perfect shape,” Joanna said. “I’ve been told that it was accidentally shipped out to the wrong party. It’s a miracle that Beau managed to find it in time for my wedding.”

  “Can we see the dress?” a reporter asked.

  “Before the wedding?” Joanna raised her eyebrows. “This bride’s had enough bad luck.”

  “The gown is safe in my office,” Beau said, “where it will stay until the wedding tomorrow morning. We’re doing some final alterations, but I’ve promised Joanna that they’ll be complete by the time my staff and I leave the studio tonight.”

  • • •

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Beau asked as he peered into the storeroom. Nancy, Bess, and Joanna were holed up against one wall with flashlights, comfortable quilts, and a stack of fashion magazines. It was already after nine, and Beau was getting ready to leave for the day. “Maybe I should stay. I hate to leave you girls alone.”