Her mind raced over events of the past hours. First she had encountered the pleasant woman with Eurasian features in the supermarket. The woman had said that she was a good friend of Miss Eloise Drew, and had offered to drive Bess and her many bundles to the apartment house.
Bess had accepted and the two had gone out to the car. Behind the wheel was a man who, the woman said, was her husband. Bess had noted only that he had red hair.
The moment they had climbed into the rear of the car, the woman had dropped her purse on the floor. Bess had leaned over to pick it up. The next instant she had been pushed down to the floor and warned to keep still or she would be sorry.
Now, Bess thought desperately, she was a prisoner in some unknown place. Was the red-haired man the same one who had taken George from the Columbia campus? The Eurasian woman, who was far from pleasant now, was saying harshly:
“You’d better tell us what your pal Nancy Drew is up to! And you don’t leave here until you do!”
CHAPTER X
Bookshop Detectives
BESS MARVIN sat in speechless amazement as her two captors continued to quiz her about Nancy’s sleuthing. How had they learned she was working on the case?
“If you won’t talk,” the woman warned in a harsh voice, “you may never see her again!”
Bess was terrified, for she feared these people might carry out their threat. Yet she did not intend to give away any of Nancy’s plans for solving the mystery.
Two rough hands gripped Bess’s shoulders and shook her. She was sure they belonged to the red-haired man.
“Listen here,” he said, “this silence won’t do you any good. If
you
won’t tell us what’s going on, we’ll get hold of that interfering young detective herself!”
All this time Bess had been desperately racking her brain for a likely story to allay the suspicions of her captors. Suddenly an inspiration came to her.
“Take your hands off me!” Bess ordered. “I’ll tell you why Nancy Drew is in New York.”
“Well, it’s about time,” the woman said unpleasantly. “Talk and be sure it’s the truth!”
Bess explained that Mr. Drew was a lawyer and his law cases took him to many places. Nancy often did research for her father in order to save him time.
“Mr. Drew is planning a trip to Hong Kong,” Bess went on. “He thought if Nancy talked to some people who had been there, and read some good books on the subject, it would be of assistance to him. Mr. Drew’s case concerns a will.”
There was a long silence, then Bess could hear the couple whispering. The imprisoned girl waited in an agony of suspense. Had her explanation been convincing enough? Would they let her go?
In a few minutes the woman spoke. “We’re going to let you go. But not until after dark and not until we get you far away from this place. We don’t want you to know where you’ve been so you can inform the police.”
“Yeah,” said the man. “You’d better not tell the police or anybody else
anything,
if you know what’s good for you!”
A little later Bess was ordered to get up and walk. The woman held her by one arm, the man by the other. Presently she sensed that they had entered an elevator. She felt the descent, then Bess knew she was being led outdoors. She was shoved into a car and made to sit on the floor.
The motor was already running and the car started off at once. The drive was a long one, and so jolting that Bess was continually bumping her face against the hard seats. She felt that she was surely coming out of this adventure with a black-and-blue nose!
Finally, to her relief, the automobile was stopped. The couple helped Bess out and walked her a short distance.
“Don’t move or you’ll get run over,” the woman warned her. “Somebody will come along and find you. And remember, don’t go to the police.”
“Come on!” the man barked.
Bess heard the car door slam and the automobile roar away.
“Oh, where am I?” Bess wondered, thankful to be free, but feeling utterly helpless.
From the freshness of the air and relative lack of traffic noise she figured she was out of the city. She could hear cars not too far away, but apparently none of the drivers saw her. Though Bess had been warned not to move, she did lean over and manage to feel the ground. Dirt and grass!
“I’m at the side of some road,” she thought, straightening up again.
At that instant Bess heard an oncoming car, then a screech of brakes. A moment later a car door opened and someone took off the blindfold. Her rescuer was an elderly man, and in the car sat a white-haired woman.
“Oh, thank you, sir,” Bess gasped in relief. “Please untie my hands, too.”
The man gave a grunt. “They carry these hazings too far!” he said. “What the fraternity boys do is bad enough, but when the sorority girls get to tying new members up and leaving them by the road after dark, it’s going beyond all sense!”
“It certainly is,” the woman agreed.
Bess smiled wanly. She said nothing—unwittingly the elderly couple had supplied her with an explanation that satisfied them.
The man helped Bess into the rear seat of his sedan, and inquired where she would like to be dropped. “At your sorority house?” he asked.
“I think not,” said Bess. “I’d like to go home. Are you going into New York City?”
“Yes, we are,” the man replied. “I’ll be glad to take you home.”
“You are most kind, but just drop me anywhere in the city.”
The couple, however, insisted upon driving Bess to her home. Finally she directed them to the apartment house where Aunt Eloise lived. In Bess’s purse was a small bottle of a lovely French perfume she had purchased that day. As she opened the door to step from the car, she handed the package to the woman.
“Please take this and enjoy it. You have no idea how grateful I am to you.” She hurried across the sidewalk before the woman could comment.
When Bess rang the outer doorbell and announced she was home, she could hear shrieks of delight from the apartment. The inner door clicked open and she hurried to the elevator. Aunt Eloise and the other girls hugged her joyfully, demanding to know where she had been.
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Bess said. Now that her great fright was over, she could not help teasing the others.
“If you don’t,” threatened her cousin George, “we won’t tell you what we found out this afternoon.”
Bess made a face, then told her story. The others were aghast and Aunt Eloise insisted that despite the warning of Bess’s captors, they should tell Captain Gray the whole story.
“I suppose he’ll want me to look through the rogues’ gallery to see if I can find that woman.” Bess sighed wearily. “Well, please ask him to make it tomorrow. I’m starving and I certainly will be glad to tumble into my bed.”
As Aunt Eloise went to telephone the police captain, Nancy and George hurried to the kitchen. They prepared an appetizing meal for Bess and sat down with her while she ate. Then she went directly to bed and the others soon followed.
At breakfast the next morning the whole subject was discussed again. As Bess suspected, Captain Gray had requested her to come to headquarters and try to pick out the woman in the rogues’ gallery. George offered to go with her.
“Maybe I can spot the red-haired man,” she said. The two girls left after the meal was finished.
As Nancy helped her aunt get ready for school, she said, “I’d like to try a little sleuthing from a different angle. I am more and more convinced that Stromberg’s Bookshop is a front for an underhanded scheme. Could you ask some friend of yours to go there and find out if Mr. Stromberg has a new clerk?”
“I could ask my friend Mrs. Becker.”
“I’d like her to do something else, too,” said Nancy. “Do you think she would ask Mr. Stromberg to come to her home and look at some foreign books she’ll say she wants to sell? I’ll get the volumes for her.”
“Certainly,” said Aunt Eloise. “I’ll call her right now.” She smiled. “I suppose while he’s gone, you’ll go to the shop to look around again.” Her niece nodded.
Miss Drew dialed the number. Then, since it was getting late, she introduced her niece to Mrs. Becker and told the two to continue the conversation. Nancy waved good-by to her aunt, then explained her request to Mrs. Becker.
“To avoid suspicion that I’m involved in this plan,” Nancy said, “I’ll have the books delivered to your home instead of bringing them myself.”
Mrs. Becker promised that as soon as the books arrived, she would look them over carefully so that she would know the contents. “Then I’ll go to Stromberg’s Bookshop and talk to the owner. If he agrees to come to my apartment, I’ll let you know what time it will be.”
Nancy thanked her, then hurried off to the bookstore near the university where she had purchased her copy of the Asian book. She bought several foreign volumes in various languages. All of them were old, first editions, and rather hard to obtain, according to the bookshop owner. This was exactly what Nancy had wanted!
“Could you deliver this package immediately?” she asked the owner. The man said yes. After the books were wrapped, Nancy carefully wrote Mrs. Becker’s name and address on the package, paid for all the books, then left the store.
By the time Nancy returned to the apartment, Bess and George were back. “I wasn’t able to identify any photograph in the rogues’ gallery,” Bess said.
“And I didn’t find the red-haired man,” George added.
“They must be new at their racket,” Nancy remarked.
She told the cousins of her plan for sleuthing. “I thought you girls and I would go to Stromberg’s Bookshop while Mr. Stromberg’s at Mrs. Becker’s. You stand guard in the front room, while I take a look in that back room!”
The three girls had just finished their luncheon when Mrs. Becker telephoned. The woman said she had gone over to the shop during the morning but learned little. Mr. Stromberg was most solicitous in helping her pick out a book she planned to buy. There was a new young woman clerk, not too efficient, assisting.
“Mr. Stromberg is coming to my apartment at two o’clock this afternoon,” Mrs. Becker told Nancy.
“Oh, that’s fine,” the young sleuth said. “And thank you for your help, Mrs. Becker.”
At exactly two o’clock Nancy, Bess, and George arrived at Mr. Stromberg’s shop. As prearranged, the girls took up their positions. Bess at once began chatting with the clerk, and took her to a front corner of the shop where the books on fashion designing and dressmaking were located. It was easy for Bess to keep the young woman intrigued by her chatter on the subject of clothes.
George wandered around the shop, trying to pick up any clues which they might have overlooked before. Nancy, meanwhile, had slipped into the back room when the clerk was not looking. She knew that legally she must not open the drawers in the desk or the closet in the room.
“But maybe I can detect something without doing that,” Nancy told herself.
The young sleuth circled the room, looking under the desk and a table, then on the shelves hugging one side of the room. By standing on tiptoe, she could just see what was inside several open boxes on the top shelf.
Suddenly Nancy gasped. “Giant nrecrackers!”
Lying on the shelf next to the telltale box were several sheets of the fire-dragon stationery!
“Oh, this is wonderful evidence!” the girl detective said to herself. “I think I had better report this to Captain Gray at once!”
As she turned to leave the room, Nancy became aware of a familiar voice in the shop. The speaker was Mrs. Horace Truesdale, the woman who had been in the store the first time Nancy had come there.
“Oh, dear!” Nancy said to herself. “Now I won’t dare go out there. Mrs. Truesdale will be sure to see me and she’s such a talker she’ll certainly ask questions, and she may even tell Mr. Stromberg where I’ve been!”
The young sleuth decided there was nothing to do but wait for the woman to leave. But when she looked at her watch, she realized Mr. Stromberg might return at any minute.
Suddenly Nancy became aware of a scraping sound near her. Turning, she was just in time to see a trap door in the floor starting to lift.
“There’s only one thing for me to do,” Nancy thought wildly. “Hide! But where?”
CHAPTER XI
A Suspect Escapes
THERE was only one possible hiding place for Nancy Drew in the cluttered back office of the bookshop—under the kneehole desk. It had a solid front, but fortunately for Nancy it had a six-inch opening at the bottom.
Quickly the young sleuth crawled out of sight. By resting her cheek on the floor and peering out through the opening below the back panel, she could plainly see what was going on.
A moment later a man, carrying a large paper bag, stepped into the room. He was the driver who had trailed George to the hospital when she was masquerading as Chi Che! He was slender and rather short, but muscular looking. Could he be the man who had attacked Grandpa Soong, and the thief who had stolen the archaeologist’s manuscript?
Nancy was greatly excited. There was no question now but that the Stromberg Bookshop was involved in the fire-dragon mystery!
“I wonder what this man is going to do?” the young sleuth asked herself.
Quietly he moved across the room, then he crouched and moved a carton away from one part of the wall. A small safe was revealed.
With deft fingers the man swung the dial left, right, left, then turned the handle. The door opened without a sound.
As the intruder scooped up a stack of papers tied with a cord, Nancy caught a quick glance at the top sheet. It was in Chinese writing.
“That may be Grandpa Soong’s manuscript!” she told herself. “Do I dare try getting it away from him?”
Just then she heard Mr. Stromberg’s voice in the bookshop. The intruder jammed the stack of papers into the bag he was carrying, and went to the trap door. Silently he descended and closed it behind him.