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The Swami's Ring

Page 8

by Carolyn Keene


  “No, I didn’t have a chance to, but I’m hoping we’ll catch him between classes.”

  As it was, there seemed to be a steady flow of students on the connecting pathways, and Nancy and Ned gathered momentum. They quickly discovered the professor’s door and knocked.

  “Come in,” a voice replied.

  There was a shuffle of papers as the young couple stepped inside.

  “Dr. DeNiro, I’m Nancy Drew.”

  “And I’m Ned Nickerson,” Ned said. He stuck out his hand to shake the professor‘s, but his was hurriedly stuffing a folder into a briefcase.

  “I have a class now,” the man said briskly.

  “Well, we’re friends of Bess Marvin and George Fayne. I believe you met them the other day,” Nancy said.

  “Oh yes, of course.”

  Suddenly, he let the briefcase tumble on the desk and sat down, gesturing to Nancy and Ned to do the same.

  “As a matter of fact, I was planning to call them today,” he said.

  “You were?” Nancy replied in surprise.

  “A most peculiar thing happened yesterday. Here, I’ll show you.”

  He pulled out a lower drawer in his desk and dug to the back for a small packing box. Remaining shreds of brown paper were still wrapped around it. He removed it completely now and opened the lid. Inside was a thick wad of cotton which he drew out quickly.

  “Oh!” Nancy exclaimed as a piece of gold jewelry rolled across his palm. “That’s Cliffs ring!”

  “Are you sure?” Ned asked, taking it from the man and handing it to Nancy.

  “It’s unmistakably the same one,” she replied. “The lily design and the scratches inside. Can you tell me how and where you got this, Dr. DeNiro?”

  “It came in the mail,” he said. “It was addressed to me here at the college.”

  “May I see the wrapping paper?” Nancy requested. But to her chagrin, there was no return address on it.

  Now she wondered why the ring had been sent to the professor. It seemed to her that his impostor was too clever to have let it slip through his fingers so easily. Might he have given it to someone who forwarded it to Oberon College by mistake?

  “Has anything else unusual happened to you recently?” Nancy inquired.

  “No, not really. I am busily trying to finish a project—”

  “A government project?” Nancy put in, remembering what Bess and George had told her.

  “Yes, and I’ve had my nose buried in books for days.”

  “I don’t mean to pry, Dr. DeNiro,” Nancy went on, “but I wonder if the man who was posing as you could be related to your current work.”

  “Let’s say it’s not impossible, but unlikely. The same thought occurred to me when I spoke with your friends, but after digesting it a bit, I concluded that my statistical studies would be of little interest to anyone other than someone in my field.

  “On the other hand,” the instructor continued, “the person could have read my name in the Gazette article and conveniently remembered it.”

  Nancy agreed. “In any case,” she said, “I am greatly relieved to have the ring back. Now if we can only find its owner.”

  Dr. DeNiro’s bewildered reaction prompted the girl to explain further. “Sounds like Cliffs in a lot of trouble,” the man said, “and if anything relevant should turn up, I will contact you immediately.”

  “Or, if you can’t reach Nancy,” Ned inserted, “you can always call me.”

  They gave him their telephone numbers, which he pocketed, then said he was running late for class. The couple thanked him for his time and followed him up the walkway, separating at the juncture to the parking lot.

  “Weird, weird, weird,” Ned muttered as he drove the car along the winding pavement.

  “And lucky,” Nancy said, flashing the ring in her hand.

  Suddenly, her eyes settled on a young man carrying a canvas bag toward a campus laundry room. He had brown hair that trailed across his shoulder, and his build was slight like that of the boy she had chased out of the River Heights Theater!

  “Slow down, Ned,” Nancy said.

  The window was down on her side and she stuck her head through it, trying to see the boy’s profile as he strode toward a door.

  “Who is it?” Ned questioned.

  “It looks like the kid I found with Vince in the sound booth,” Nancy said.

  She opened the car door and stepped out quickly, leaving Ned to idle the engine in a no-parking zone. She raced to the door she had seen the young man go into, but when she looked behind it, he was nowhere in sight.

  “Where did he—” Nancy said, in the same instant realizing that he had disappeared around the corner of the building and was running toward a car near a dormitory.

  Nancy raced back to Ned’s and leaped in.

  “We have to follow him,” she said. “I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy.”

  The other vehicle now swerved onto the pavement, screeching its wheels as it flew past the couple.

  “Did he see you?” Ned said, bearing down on the accelerator.

  “I hope not,” Nancy said. “I don’t think so.”

  The boy ahead of them cruised down the road in the direction of the business district. He whipped through an amber light just before it turned red, which forced Nancy and Ned to a frustrating halt.

  They didn’t speak as they watched the silver hatchback dart between cars and pitch through a second light as their own turned green again.

  “We can’t lose him,” Nancy finally said, causing Ned to press down on the pedal.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll catch him,” Ned assured her.

  The hatchback was still in view, but when a sign for the River Heights Music Festival appeared overhead, the car spun quickly off its track. Ned had been concentrating on it so intently that he did not see another one barrel ing toward the approaching intersection.

  “Watch it, Ned!” Nancy screamed as her eyes caught sight of the sports wagon. But Ned had already sailed into the path of collision!

  16

  Hazy Report

  Instead of jamming on the brakes, which would have been Nancy’s instinct, Ned lurched the car forward. The sports wagon careened past the rear bumper, barely missing it before coming to an abrupt halt.

  “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” the driver yelled back at Ned, then sped around the corner.

  Nancy, meanwhile, had sunk against the car seat, feeling the tension in her muscles spin out in a shiver.

  “Oh, Ned,” she gasped, as he urged the pedal again. “I thought we were going to get crumpled for sure.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Ned said, squeezing her hand lightly. “Now, don’t tell me you think I’d foul up a chase by getting us into a car accident.”

  Nancy shook her head, smiling. “Where did that hatchback go, anyway?” she asked.

  “He was heading for the River Heights Theater, and I figure we ought to as well.”

  “But definitely,” Nancy said, straightening up in the seat.

  It was amazing how the incident at the intersection, despite the fact that their own car had never stopped moving, had given the hatchback enough time to vanish completely.

  “Maybe he turned off onto one of these side streets,” Nancy declared. She gazed down the ones they passed, looking for some evidence of the silver car. “I don’t see it anywhere,” she said at last.

  But when they reached the theater, they noticed a trail of engine oil in the driveway and followed it.

  “There!” Nancy exclaimed, spotting the elusive hatchback.

  It was sitting in a parking space near the manager’s office. Ned pulled in next to it and as he shut off the ignition, Nancy stepped out. Ned walked close behind her as she dashed to the door, opening it quickly and announcing herself to an officious-looking secretary.

  “Mr. Hillyer is in conference at the moment,” was her reply.

  Was he talking with the boy whom Nancy suspected had atta
cked Vince? She and Ned waited a few minutes before interrupting the woman again.

  “It’s really urgent,” Nancy said, half surmising that the manager had given instructions not to admit Nancy.

  “As I told you, Mr. Hillyer is tied up. I have no idea how long he will be, and I suggest you call for an appointment.”

  Nancy strode quickly past the woman, knocking on the office door. She heard two voices clouded by the partition and stepped back, somewhat embarrassed.

  The receptionist was on her feet by now and glaring at Nancy. “I suggest you leave,” she snapped.

  “We can‘t,” Ned returned with equal brisk-ness.

  The woman gritted her teeth and pressed the intercom, advising the manager, “Miss Drew is here and she refuses to go.”

  “I’ll be right out.”

  As the man emerged in the doorway, Nancy observed someone in the visitor’s chair. His hair peeked out from the high back.

  “Shall I have you thrown out of here by our security guards?” Mr. Hillyer rasped.

  Nancy overlooked the comment. “I have reason to believe that the young man in your office clubbed Vince over the head last night.”

  “That is absolutely preposterous,” the manager said.

  “But I told you before how a boy almost knocked me down as he came out of the sound booth only minutes before I found Vince.”

  Hillyer had intentionally closed his ears. “He happens to be the son of a fine family from Castleton. He called me this morning about a job. He’s had some experience in summer theater and we may hire him, especially since he just completed course work at Oberon with honors.

  “Frankly, Miss Drew, knowing that we don’t have your wholehearted support on the subject, I probably will hire him.”

  “But—” Nancy said, still trying to capture the man’s attention.

  “Good-bye, Miss Drew, and please don’t bother me again.”

  Nancy knew it was useless to inquire about the boy’s name, because neither Hillyer nor his receptionist would volunteer it. Nonetheless, she had picked up some interesting tidbits which she stored for future reference.

  “Come on, Ned,” she said, pausing to look at the performance schedule on an outside bulletin board.

  The word POSTPONED had been stamped across two programs, including a spectacular trio of violinists and what had been advertised as the rare appearance of a famous jazz pianist. The Jansen production, however, seemed to be continuing.

  “I’m game for another round of Oklahoma,” Ned smiled. “Maybe we can at least see two scenes worth—”

  “Before the stage collapses?” Nancy laughed. “Well, I had something else in mind for this evening—like a trip to the old Flannery homestead!”

  “I knew you wouldn’t give up on that one,” Ned sighed. “In that case, I’d better do a little weight lifting this afternoon to build up these tired muscles.”

  “And I’m going to put in a call to the swami’s retreat,” Nancy said.

  They returned to the Drew home, where they agreed on a time to meet later.

  “See you at nine,” Ned said, and drove away.

  Nancy hurried into the house, where to her amazement she found Hannah in a complete dither. She had personally called Chief McGinnis to inquire about the ongoing search for Cliff.

  “The police think they’ve found him!”she exclaimed.

  “What?” Nancy replied.

  Could it be possible that the young man and his intriguing ring had been discovered the same day?

  Hannah bobbed her head excitedly. “Yes, it’s true. It’s true. The chief says someone saw him hitchhiking. The description fits, according to what he told me.”

  “Where is he now?” Nancy pressed.

  “We don’t know, exactly,” Hannah said, losing some of the animation in her face. “All they have is a report, and they’re scouring the area where he was seen.”

  Nancy now dialed headquarters, asking to be put through to the chief at once. Within seconds, she was told a similar version of the story.

  Chief McGinnis chuckled, however. “We get reports like these all the time, you know,” he said, “and I’m afraid Hannah has been so worried about Cliffs kidnapping that she didn’t hear my final comment before she hung up.”

  “What was it, Chief?” Nancy inquired.

  “Just that eight out of ten reports on missing persons don’t usually lead anywhere.”

  The disappointment Nancy felt was no less than Hannah’s when she related her conversation.

  “No matter what the chief says,” Nancy remarked, “I intend to remain optimistic.”

  “Good girl,” Hannah said, hugging her. “And when that young man comes back, I’m going to bake him the biggest coconut layer cake he ever laid eyes on!”

  “Mm, sounds delicious,” Nancy said, sniffing the faint odor of something else in the oven.

  “Oh! The tarts!” Hannah cried. “They’ll burn for sure!”

  She dashed into the kitchen, leaving the young detective alone to mull over the numerous details in the mysteries that beset her. Suddenly, she realized that only she and Ned knew about the unexpected return of Cliff ’s ring, and she raced upstairs to her room. She sprawled out on the bed, resting the telephone alongside her.

  She called Bess and George first, then her father. All of them were ecstatic about the discovery.

  As it entrenched itself in her mind, Nancy finished her conversation with Mr. Drew and closed her eyes. She saw the gold ring swirl vigorously around the figure of a man whose face was indistinct. But as she ran toward him, a beard grew along the chin, then floated away, leaving a smooth complexion and large eyes several shades darker than his skin.

  “Jhaveri,” Nancy murmured before slipping into a deeper sleep.

  When she awoke, she discovered the phone partly off the hook and a twilight haze creeping between the trees outside her window. She jolted out of bed, resetting the receiver, and changed into slacks and a light sweater.

  The dinner hour faded quickly as the young detective let a large noodle slide off her fork.

  “Why didn’t I think of it before!” she exclaimed.

  “What, dear?” Carson Drew inquired.

  “The ring!” Nancy said excitedly.

  In the course of her nap, two elements of the mystery had joined themselves—Cliffs jewelry and Mr. Jhaveri’s jewelry store. Flannery, alias DeNiro, had been there on one occasion, at least. Had he tried to sell the ring to Mr. Jhaveri after stealing it from Bess and George?

  “I have an idea that Mr. Jhaveri wanted to ship it back for some reason,” Nancy said. “Since the man had introduced himself as Dr. DeNiro from Oberon College, Mr. Jhaveri sent the ring there!”

  17

  Moonlight Intruder

  Nancy’s declaration about Cliffs ring caused Mr. Drew to smile. “I assume, then, you are planning a trip back to Mr. Jhaveri’s shop,” he said.

  His daughter grinned. “First, however, I’m going to do a little investigating around the Flannery house. Ned said he’d go with me.”

  “When is that scheduled for?”

  “In about two hours,” Nancy said.

  “Tonight?” the attorney questioned in surprise.

  Nancy related her visit with Mrs. Flannery and her determination to find out whether the man who called himself by the same name was her husband.

  “He wasn’t there this morning,” Nancy said, “but I figure he ought to show up eventually.”

  Although the young detective would have liked to reveal everything that had occurred during the day, she chose not to. She knew, for instance, that Mr. Hillyer’s reaction to her would upset her father unnecessarily, so she avoided the subject.

  “I think I’m on the way to convincing the mayor of my innocence,” Mr. Drew said unexpectedly.

  “That’s terrific, Dad,” Nancy replied.

  It was the first time he had even made reference to the situation in a while. Yet, despite the note of optimism, Nancy did no
t see an observable change in her father’s face. He still seemed distressed.

  “So I don’t want you to worry anymore,” he continued.

  Had he only told her half the truth in order to allay her fears? Nancy wondered. But she didn’t ask any questions, allowing the rest of the meal to pass quietly.

  Before long it was nine o‘clock, and Nancy slipped into a jacket, thinking Ned would arrive punctually. To her surprise, though, half an hour had elapsed when the bell finally rang.

  “I tried calling you this afternoon, but all I got was a busy signal,” Ned said. He explained that his parents had asked him to do a number of errands and he knew he’d be late.

  Nancy promptly recalled how the phone receiver had slipped off the hook as she slept next to it.

  “I wonder if I missed any other important calls,” she said, waving good-bye to her father.

  “Well, if you did, I’m sure they’ll call back,” Ned declared.

  The couple strolled across the driveway to Ned’s car, unaware for the moment of the silver hatchback that was parked a short distance up the street. In spite of the moonlight that glinted on the hood, it remained concealed under a low-hanging tree. The driver, however, kept his gaze steady on the Drew house.

  When Ned finally backed the car out onto the street, the hatchback’s headlights turned on and the engine started to purr. The driver waited several seconds before pulling away from the curb, then followed the young detectives.

  They headed for the Flannery house. Ned had paid only scant attention to the car in the rearview mirror. It had maintained a fair distance, but when Ned’s car halted at the end of a block, the hatchback suspended the chase, waiting for the pair to emerge.

  “The downstairs lights are still on,” Nancy said to Ned as she gazed at the Flannery house.

  “If we see the guy you’re looking for,” Ned said, “do you want to talk to him?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s play it by ear.”

  “Okay. You’re the boss on this one.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Nancy smiled.

  Together, they stole up the driveway, hiding behind a tree trunk when Mrs. Flannery moved in front of the living room window.

 

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