089 Designs in Crime

by Carolyn Keene

  "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.

  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."
r />   "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."

  "But you have to go," Nancy pointed out. "Angel's partner won't make a move until he or she sees you leave the building."

  "We'll be fine," Bess assured him. "I've been on stakeouts with Nancy before. Believe me, the worst part is the waiting. It's a bore!"

  "Are you sure?" Beau asked. "Maybe—"

  "Good night, Beau," Joanna said firmly.

  After Beau left, Nancy turned out the overhead light and stretched out on a quilt. Joanna and Bess had their heads together over a bridal magazine Ik by one of the flashlights. "I'm amazed you're here with us, Joanna," Nancy said. "Your wedding is just hours away."

  Joanna laughed. "It's my last night out with the girls, and I'm going to make the most of it! Besides, if you guys can stay up all night and still make it to my wedding, I can, too."

  "Unfortunately, Bess was right about stakeouts being boring," Nancy admitted. "I just hope this one pans out."

  The girls settled in for a long wait. Only twenty minutes later, Nancy thought she heard the sound of a door opening.

  "Someone's here," she said, shushing the others. Kneeling against the wall to Beau's office, Nancy put her eye up to the peephole and waited.

  Within minutes the light flicked on and a slight man entered. Dressed in black from his combat boots to his wool cap, the man moved quietly about the office, digging through file drawers. As the man turned, Nancy got her first glimpse of his face, but his features were distorted by a nylon stocking worn over his head.

  "It's the guy we saw in Angel's apartment," Nancy whispered as she turned to her friends.

  Peering into the office again, she saw the man wheel toward the gown. He pulled a shiny object out of his jacket pocket. Nancy gasped as the light glimmered on the golden handles of Mrs. Chong's scissors!

  Fiendishly, he cut the bridal gown into shreds. Then he shoved the scissors back into the pocket of his jacket.

  "Get this," Nancy whispered to the girls. "He didn't steal the gown—he shredded it."

  "Can you see his face?" Bess asked. "Can I look?"

  "It's distorted by a stocking." Nancy slid away from the crack to give Bess a chance.

  Bess settled herself close to the wall, then began craning her neck around to get a better view. "But, Nancy," Bess said after a minute, "I don't see anyone there at all."

  Nancy scrambled back to the crack in the wall. There was no one there! The intruder had gone.

  All of a sudden she sniffed something odd. Smoke! She turned her head, trying to see the rest of the office. Then her eyes jumped to a pile of papers on Beau's desk. They lit up in a yellow-orange glow, then crackled and exploded in flame.

  "He's set the place on fire!" Nancy gasped.

  "It's the only way he can be sure that all the evidence against him is destroyed," Bess said.

  "I smell smoke now, too!" Joanna exclaimed.

  Nancy rushed to the door. It was hot, which meant the fire was close. The intruder must have started another blaze in the hallway.

  "Stay down and move over there," Nancy said, pointing to the opposite wall. The girls dropped into a crouching position and scrambled across the storeroom.

  Nancy touched the door handle, then yanked her hand away. "We'll never get out this way," she said, crawling over to where Bess and Joanna were crouched against the wall. The beams of their flashlights illuminated the doorway, where wisps of black smoke were beginning to leak around the frame.

  "What are we going to do?" Joanna asked.

  Just then the smoke was followed by the first lick of flame that wrapped around the bottom of the wooden door. The fire is here, Nancy thought as she sank back between two plywood studs. And we're trapped!

  Chapter Sixteen

  "There has to be another way out of here," Joanna said, moving the beam of her flashlight around the room.

  "And we'd better find it! That smoke is choking me," Bess said.

  "Cover your mouth with this," Joanna suggested, handing Bess a swatch of cloth.

  In the distance Nancy could hear smoke alarms begin to ring, but she knew by the time the fire department arrived, they'd be dead from smoke inhalation.

  "We have to get out!" Bess exclaimed.

  Using the beam of her flashlight, Nancy searched the room. She had to stay calm. Recalling what she knew about Beau's studio, she remembered the ventilation system. "There's got to be a vent in here!"

  Thinking through the floor plan, Nancy turned to the wall behind her. She had to push through a rack of clothes, but at last she found the square opening. "The vent!" she shouted. Using her penknife as a lever, she pried off the vent cover and let it drop to the floor.

  Just then Nancy heard the noise of wood popping in the heat. Looking back, she saw that the door was now enveloped in flames.

  It was now or never.

  "Quick! Crawl out this way!" Nancy shouted. She gave Bess a boost into the air shaft.

  Joanna was next, then Nancy tried to follow, but couldn't reach the opening w
ithout a boost.

  She searched the dark room for something to stand on, then dragged a broken dress form over and set it on its side to use as a step. At last, she was able to dive into the vent, her hips scraping the jagged edges of the opening as she slithered through.

  The air shaft was like a dark tunnel, made all the more eerie by the bouncing beams of the girls' flashlights and the occasional squeak of their sneakers against the metal lining. Nancy forged ahead, following Bess and Joanna. When they reached a juncture, Bess stopped. Nancy thought hard about the layout of the studio, and took her best guess about which way to tell her to go.

  A minute or so later Nancy reached the end of the shaft. Coughing and covered with dust, she popped her head into the workroom, where

  water was pouring from the sprinklers in the ceiling.

  Joanna and Bess grabbed Nancy's arms and helped her to her feet.

  "This way," Nancy shouted over the alarms. She led Bess and Joanna out through the reception area, then darted toward the stairs.

  Outside, the night air was cool, but it was a welcome relief. Nancy doubled over, then straightened up and took a deep breath.

  "You two sure know how to show a girl a good time," Joanna said, wiping dust and soot from her face.

  Bess coughed. "A real hot time."

  "We'd better call nine-one-one," Nancy said. "The fire department will probably respond to the alarms, but it can't hurt to make sure."

  "I'll go," Bess said, pointing to a phone booth at the end of the street. Joanna followed.

  Checking to her right, Nancy watched her friends disappear behind a newsstand. Then she moved to the building next door and sat down on the stone threshold. She was wondering if the fire fighters would be able to find Beau's studio when a dark figure stepped out of a nearby vestibule.

  Taking in the black clothes and lace-up boots, Nancy knew it was Angel's killer. He must have stopped to see whether the fire caught. "Wait a minute," Nancy called.