wearing her clothes. Almost twelve, she thought,
glancing at her watch. I hope Alden's asleep by now.
Climbing off her narrow bed as the train rumbled
and swayed, Nancy pulled out her duffel bag from
under the sofa below. After fishing through it for a
moment, she drew out a flashlight, then quietly slipped
out of the compartment while Bess and George slept.
Nancy walked down the deserted train corridors,
keeping an eye out for any signs of activity. The interior
lights had been dimmed, and Nancy's shadow loomed
large beside her as she tiptoed along.
After moving through the empty dining car, Nancy
came to the sleeping car in front of Julius's coach. The
corridor seemed endless as she hurried down it,
expecting Alden to fling open his compartment door at
any moment.
To her relief, she reached the end of the car undis-
turbed and slid open the outside door. For a moment
Nancy stood between the cars, listening to the train
chugging and bouncing over the tracks in the late night
emptiness. Out the window, vast fields slid by in the
moonlight, as flat and dark as lake water.
Once in Julius's car, Nancy flicked on her flashlight
and moved toward the bed. After pulling the wooden
handle just as Alden had done, Nancy eased the bed
out of its nook until it lay on the sofa. She pushed on
the panel carved with the eagle and held her breath as
it slid open.
As Nancy shone her flashlight into the dark space, a
jolt of surprise shot through her. The letters were gone!
A sudden crunching noise sounded from outside—
from the rear of the train, Nancy thought.
She flicked off her flashlight, shut the secret panel,
then lifted the bed back into its nook. By the light of
the moon pouring in through the windows, Nancy
decided to take a quick peek at the platform at the very
end of the car—and the train. She made her way to the
door and cupped her hands next to her face. Pressing
her nose against the glass, she peered outside.
A short elderly woman in a lacy nightgown stood on
the narrow platform behind the door. The wind
whipped through her violet-tinted white hair as she
held her face up to the brilliant night sky.
Nancy slid the door open as quietly as she could.
Outside, silver-colored train tracks streamed behind
them as the train glided through the silent countryside.
The woman stepped closer to the edge of the plat-
form, and Nancy's heart leaped into her throat.
The woman was about to jump!
4. Disaster before Dinner
Nancy bit her lip, worried that any sound could startle
the woman into falling. With her leg propping the door
open, she leaned forward. Then, in a lightning-quick
motion, she grabbed the woman by the wrist and
yanked her back to safety.
The woman stared at Nancy, her pale, wrinkled face
a mask of absolute shock. Without wasting another
second, Nancy pulled her inside the car.
“I'm sorry,” Nancy began. “I didn't mean to scare
you, but you were right on the edge of the train plat-
form. I was worried you were going to fall.”
The woman swiped her forehead with the back of
her hand as if brushing cobwebs from her mind. “Oh,
my dear,” the woman said in a quavery voice. “I had no
idea. Thank you so much. I believe you saved my life.”
“I'm glad I saw you there,” Nancy said.
“Yes, and in the nick of time,” the woman pro-
nounced. She shook her head as if trying to wake
herself. “It's the most peculiar thing—I haven't the
slightest idea why I went out there.”
“You don't?” Nancy said.
“Well, I hadn't realized I'd left my bed, much less
landed myself in such a dangerous situation,” she went
on airily. “I guess I must have been sleepwalking. It's a
frequent affliction of mine, though I'm terribly
embarrassed to admit it.”
The tiny woman, who came up to Nancy's chin,
stared at Nancy with round, childlike blue eyes. With
her thin, knobby fingers, she smoothed down her wispy
lavender-tinted hair, which had puffed out like cotton
candy from the wind outside.
Nancy studied the woman's wizened face, which
seemed almost as fragile and crinkly as parchment.
There was something innocent and endearing about
her, Nancy thought, and she seemed totally sincere
when she claimed she had been sleepwalking. Still, the
woman could have been in Julius's coach around the
time that the papers had vanished. She could have
stashed them someplace and then hidden outside the
moment she heard someone coming. Her sleepwalking
could be an act.
Nancy glanced around Julius's coach, searching for
signs of pillows or cushions having been hastily
rearranged. Everything looked exactly as it had when
she had been in the car earlier. She was itching to look
around now, but there was no way she could gracefully
start searching for the letters as long as the old woman
stayed with her.
The old woman sighed. “If you hadn't come along,
my dear, I might have woken up as I fell from the train.
I would have thought I was having a nightmare, and
then realized, all too late, that it was true.” She
shuddered, clasping her arms against her thin body.
“I think you would have woken up before you fell,”
Nancy said soothingly, even though she wasn't con-
vinced. “But aren't you cold standing here? Maybe you
should go back to your compartment to get some
sleep.” Nancy picked up her flashlight, which she'd
placed on Julius's desk before opening the rear door.
“Yes, that's a splendid idea,” the woman said, lightly
touching Nancy's arm. “Would you be kind enough to
help me back to my compartment, my dear? I'm
feeling a bit feeble.” Before Nancy could reply, the
woman hooked her arm through Nancy's and led her
toward the front of Julius's car.
Nancy was surprised at the old woman's strength as
they made their way along the length of the coach.
She's pulling me instead of letting me help her, Nancy
observed—maybe she's just trying to get me out of
Julius's coach so I won't find his letters.
Nancy smiled weakly as the woman thanked her for
her support. “And now, my dear,” the woman said as
they stopped outside her compartment in the next car,
“there's something I'm curious to know. What were
you doing in the Van Hoogstraten coach so late at
night?”
For a moment Nancy was taken aback by the
question. But then a plausible excuse flashed into her
mind. “Uh, I lost my keys. I was looking for them in all
the places I went tonight,” she fudged. “Since I was on
a tour of the car earlier, I thought I might have
dropped them in there.”
“Aha! We
ll, I saw no keys. But, of course, I was in no
condition to observe things either during or after my
unfortunate sleepwalking spell.” When she cocked her
head she reminded Nancy of a curious bird. “Did you
find them, by the way?”
“I didn't have a chance to look,” Nancy told her,
smiling.
“Because you were busy rescuing me,” the woman
said knowingly. “I'm so sorry to have inconvenienced
you, my dear. Take my advice and ask the conductor
tomorrow morning whether someone turned them in.
All the people I've met on this train seem terribly
helpful. And now, where is your compartment? Let me
watch you make your way back to it so I can repay your
kind favors to me.”
“That's not necessary,” Nancy began.
“Ah, but it is,” the woman said firmly, a half-smile
playing about her lips. “Women need to watch out for
one another, you know.”
Nancy had no choice but to return to her compart-
ment. Once there, she was too tired to sneak back to
hunt for Julius's letters, especially when there was only
a small chance that she would find them. Lying back on
her bed, she relaxed to the chugging rhythm of the
train and was rocked to sleep in minutes.
“I never knew train food could include chocolate-
chip pancakes,” Bess said happily as she poured syrup
over the steaming mound on her plate. “Am I in
heaven, or what?”
“These waffles aren't bad, either,” George pro-
nounced as she dug into them eagerly. “Now, Nan,
fess up. I woke briefly last night and saw that you
weren't in bed. Did you sneak into Julius's coach to
read his letters?”
Between mouthfuls of French toast, Nancy told Bess
and George about her adventures the night before.
“Do you see the old lady now?” Bess asked, scanning
the dining car.
Nancy looked around. “Nope. I haven't seen her yet
today. I'll point her out if I do.”
“It's no big deal,” Bess said with a shrug. “She might
have gotten off at an earlier stop, anyway.”
“With Julius's letters?” George asked wryly.
“But why would she have wanted to steal his let-
ters?” Bess wondered.
At that moment Alden trooped into the car, dressed
in his signature white tie and tails. He stopped at the
girls' table and greeted them wearily. “I'm slaving away
on these confounded tours until the moment we reach
New York this afternoon,” he said, “but I'm counting
on seeing you at my cousin's party tonight.”
“We'll be there,” Bess assured him cheerfully.
“New York City, next stop,” the conductor an-
nounced as he marched down the corridor outside the
girls' compartment. “New York City, Penn Station, in
approximately five minutes.”
George heaved her backpack into the corridor while
Bess frantically tried to zip up a suitcase that Nancy
held closed. “I can't get it,” Bess moaned. “I guess the
pants that I had on yesterday take up more room than
this skirt.”
Nancy studied Bess's sleek black knee-length skirt,
turquoise tank top, and platform sandals. Her long
blond hair was pulled back into an elegant French
braid. “You look great, Bess,” Nancy told her, “as if
you've lived in New York all your life.”
“You think so?” Bess said, brightening. She gave her
zipper a final, successful tug. “You don't think people
will guess I'm really from River Heights?”
“You'll fit in for sure at Dell's party tonight with all
those sophisticated people, Bess,” George said ap-
provingly. “If you don't pull a muscle from lugging all
your suitcases around.”
“We'll just have to get a Red Cap,” Bess said.
The whistle blew as the train pulled into the station.
As soon as the girls stepped off the train, Nancy hailed
a Bed Cap, who led them through the bustling station
and up to the taxi stand.
“I always feel so full of energy here,” Nancy com-
mented as their suitcases were being loaded into a
taxicab. The girls climbed into the cab, which wasted
no time in speeding them toward their destination.
Nancy gazed around at the enormous skyscrapers
and swelling crowds of people who pushed their way
around the city streets. The air was filled with the
sound of honking horns, the subway rumbling un-
derground, and loud exclamations in many different
languages.
“It's a great place to visit, but I don't see how people
enjoy living here,” George said, staring at the noisy
crowds thronging the streets. “I mean, it's so crowded,
and I bet the cost of joining an athletic club is
awesomely expensive.”
“But there's no other place as exciting,” Bess said,
her blue eyes sparkling as she glanced at all the shops.
Ten minutes later the taxi drove down a leafy side
street. It stopped outside a large brick apartment
building. After paying the cab, Nancy, George, and
Bess carried their luggage into the building and on to
the elevator. Seconds later they were standing outside
Nancy's aunt Eloise's apartment.
The door opened before Nancy even had a chance
to ring the bell. A tall, elegant woman in her early
forties enveloped Nancy in a huge hug.
“I thought I heard your voices outside,” she said
warmly, drawing away from Nancy to greet Bess and
George. “Come on in, girls. The guest room is all ready
for you.” Smoothing back her shining brown hair, Aunt
Eloise led the girls to their room.
After they were settled, Nancy, George, and Bess
joined Nancy's aunt for a cup of tea in her kitchen.
Studying their faces, Eloise Drew declared, “You girls
look great—it's wonderful to see you all. I hope you
remember that my friend Delphinia has invited us all
to a dinner dance at her house tonight. It's to celebrate
the opening of the Van Hoogstraten Collection next
week.”
Nancy, Bess, and George told her about meeting
Alden Guest on the train. After helping her wash the
teacups, they returned to their room to unpack,
shower, and dress for the party.
Promptly at seven Nancy, Bess, and George gath-
ered in Nancy's aunt's spacious living room, wearing
their long evening gowns.
“Nancy, that peach silk looks absolutely lovely with
your strawberry blond hair!” Aunt Eloise exclaimed.
“And, George, what marvelous material is your dress
made out of?”
George fingered the skirt of her glittery silver dress.
“It's something stretchy that doesn't wrinkle— even
after two days in a backpack.”
“And, Bess,” Aunt Eloise went on, “black satin looks
smashing on you.”
“Thanks,” Bess said, pleased. “Black seems like a
New York thing, and I wanted to fit in.”
/> After showing off her own green chiffon dress, Aunt
Eloise escorted the girls downstairs and into a taxi.
Minutes later they arrived at the Van Hoogstraten
mansion on Gramercy Park. Surrounded by an elegant
wrought iron fence, Gramercy Park was a lush,
manicured garden in the midst of a quiet square.
Stately old houses and apartment buildings looked onto
the park, but the biggest house of all was the Van
Hoogstratens'.
“What an awesome place!” Bess cried as she stepped
out of the cab into the soft June evening.
Nancy had to agree. Set back from the sidewalk
behind a wrought iron fence, the enormous limestone
mansion with its intricately carved lintels and columns
was magnificent. Its multitude of windows were
glowing with yellow light, and the house seemed to
welcome visitors to its grand mahogany doors like a
queen presiding over a royal banquet.
“This house has twenty bedrooms,” Aunt Eloise
whispered as they rang the front doorbell, “not
counting the servants' wing.”
A liveried butler opened the door and ushered them
inside. Nancy gazed in awe at her surroundings.
Groups of elegantly dressed men and women stood in a
huge marble foyer, chatting in low voices while a swing
orchestra was playing in the nearby ballroom. A marble
staircase swept up to the second floor, flanked by huge
bronze candlesticks at its base.
An enormous crystal chandelier hung in the center
of the foyer, and paintings that looked as if they had
been painted by Renaissance masters hung in gilded
frames on the walls. Antique furniture and porcelain
brightened the room. The mansion seemed almost
alive, as if it had participated in raising several
generations of one family. Still, it was so vast that
Nancy couldn't believe that Dell could have been
happy living in it alone.
To the left of the door was a sturdy walnut desk that
Nancy guessed had been set up for the museum—for
ticket sales, information leaflets, and the like.
“Eloise!” a woman's voice cried out. “How won-
derful to see you.” A tall brown-haired woman around
Aunt Eloise's age glided over to them wearing a gold
silk dress. She had wide cheekbones, an angular face,
and a poised manner.
“Dell!” Aunt Eloise said, embracing her friend.
“Please meet my niece, Nancy Drew, and her friends,
The Clue on the Crystal Dove Page 3
