The Mysterious Mannequin Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I - The Hidden Message

  CHAPTER II - “I Love Her”

  CHAPTER III - Bookshop Clue

  CHAPTER IV - Togo to the Rescue!

  CHAPTER V - Burglar’s Bracelet

  CHAPTER VI - Turkish Slippers

  CHAPTER VII - Sly Suspect

  CHAPTER VIII - Shocking News

  CHAPTER IX - Silent Warning

  CHAPTER X - Exasperating Search

  CHAPTER XI - Ah-ee-sha

  CHAPTER XII - Faker Revealed

  CHAPTER XIII - Mistaken Identity?

  CHAPTER XIV - Well-Kept Secret

  CHAPTER XV - Travel Plans

  CHAPTER XVI - Important Confession

  CHAPTER XVII - “Yok! Yok!”

  CHAPTER XVIII - Bazaar Kidnapping

  CHAPTER XIX - An Arrest

  CHAPTER XX - Mission Accomplished

  THE MYSTERIOUS MANNEQUIN

  THE strange disappearance of a young Turkish client of Mr. Drew’s and the gift of an Oriental rug with a coded message woven into its decorative border start Nancy on a difficult search for a missing mannequin. What happened to the attractive figure that Farouk Tahmasp used in the display window of his rug shop? Who is trying to keep Nancy from finding it—and why?

  Tracking down the intricate trail of clues takes Nancy and her friends Bess and George, Ned, Burt and Dave to Turkey. Their sleuthing leads them to the Grand Bazaar in the exotic city of Istanbul, where Bess mysteriously disappears. Suspense mounts when Nancy encounters a vengeful enemy at an ancient underground reservoir.

  Events move swiftly as Nancy and her friends try to solve this challenging mystery, and lead to an exciting climax that will delight and thrill all admirers of America’s favorite girl detective.

  “Don’t you dare take this!” Nancy shouted

  Copyright © 1970 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam &

  Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.

  NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster,

  Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-07748-1

  2007 Printing

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER I

  The Hidden Message

  NANCY Drew opened the door of her father’s office and walked in. He had phoned her to pick him up since his car was in the repair shop.

  “Hi!” she said to Miss Hanson, his secretary.

  “Hello, Nancy,” the woman replied. “Your father will be ready in a few minutes.” She gave a little chuckle and pointed to a package on a chair near the door. “That came a little while ago. Looks mysterious.”

  Nancy’s interest was aroused at once. The package was about eighteen inches square and well wrapped. She glanced at the airmail stamps and postmark.

  “This is from Istanbul, Turkey!”

  The attractive, teen-age detective leaned down to get a look at the sender’s name and address. There was none.

  “That’s strange,” she thought.

  Just then Carson Drew, a tall, good-looking man in his late forties, appeared from his inner office. He kissed Nancy, then looked at the package.

  “What’s this?” he asked. “Hm! From Istanbul. I didn’t order anything from there. Nancy, have any of our friends been to Turkey recently?”

  Nancy thought for a moment. “None that I can think of.”

  “Let’s open the package. Maybe the sender’s name is inside.”

  Miss Hanson took a pair of shears from her desk and cut the sealing tape. Inside the wrapping was a Turkish prayer rug three by five feet.

  “How beautiful!” Nancy exclaimed, unfolding it.

  The center section of the new, Oriental silk rug had a pale-gold background with a flower design. Its rectangular border was an intricate combination of leaves, vines, and geometric symbols in shades of deep rose, blue, and gold.

  “It’s exquisite,” Miss Hanson remarked. “Strange that the sender didn’t enclose a card.”

  Mr. Drew continued to stare at the rug. Finally he said, “I’m going to hazard a guess about who sent this. Miss Hanson, do you recall my Turkish-American client Farouk Tahmasp?”

  The secretary nodded. “He owned the Turkish rug shop in town and disappeared mysteriously.”

  “He’s the one,” the lawyer said. He turned to Nancy. “Farouk’s shop was over on Satcher Street, where there’s a tailor now. It was a very fine shop and he sold many expensive Orientals. Farouk was accused by customs officials of having smuggled in several valuable rugs. He denied it and came to me for advice.

  “I took his case, but before it came up in court, Farouk suddenly vanished. He left a note for me saying he could not stand the disgrace, even though he was innocent. He did not say where he was going and I haven’t heard from him since. Too bad, because he does not know that he was acquitted. Someone in Turkey had reported wrong information.”

  “What a shame!” said Nancy. Her eyes lighted up. “I remember that shop. Didn’t he have a mannequin in the window?”

  “Yes.”

  Nancy smiled. “It was about six years ago that I first saw the mannequin. It was a young Turkish lady. She wore pale-blue pantaloons and a longsleeved cerise blouse. What interested me most was the big white veil that covered her whole head except her eyes and the upper part of her nose.”

  “That’s right,” her father agreed. “Women in Turkey were required to wear that type of costume before the country became a republic in 1923. But nowadays most of them wear Western-style dress.”

  Nancy chuckled. “One time, when I stood looking at the mannequin, I was sure she had winked at me. I kept going back to see if she would do it again, but she never did.”

  Mr. Drew and Miss Hanson laughed. Her father said, “With your imagination I can see how you might think that. By the way, Farouk Tahmasp disappeared nearly two years ago.”

  “And you think maybe he’s in Turkey and sent this rug?” Nancy asked. “Did he owe you legal fees?”

  The lawyer shook his head. “That’s one of the strange parts of the story. Farouk sent me money before he left. He greatly overpaid me and I have always wanted to send him a refund.”

  “What happened to the mannequin?” Nancy queried.

  Her father said he did not know. “Farouk probably sold her to a shop or museum.”

  Mr. Drew went on to say that according to neighbors, all the rugs in the shop had been loaded on a van and taken away. He said that later he found out a dealer in New York had paid cash for the merchandise.

  “So there was no way of tracing Farouk,” Nancy remarked.

  All this while she had been examining the rug. “Since the sender didn’t enclose his name, do you suppose there could be a message for you woven into the pattern? I’ve heard that years ago in Turkey secret messages were hidden in rugs.”

  Mr. Drew smiled. “Nancy, I value your hunches. Let’s see if we can find something.”

  They laid the rug across Miss Hanson’s desk and the three began to examine the border carefully. No one spoke as their fingers traced flowers, vines, and geometric symbols.

  In a few moments Nancy spotted an object hidden among some leaves. “I believe it’s a car,” she said to herself. She moved a forefinger along the rug and came upon the figures of a man and a little boy.

  Nancy looked at it steadily for several moments. Then she burst out, “Here’s a clue!” She pointed. “See that car? And the man and boy?”

  “Yes,” Miss Hanson replied. “Does it me
an something?”

  “I’m sure it does,” said Nancy. “My father’s name! Car-son! Carson.”

  “Why, that’s marvelous!” Miss Hanson exclaimed. “But I can’t understand why Farouk Tahmasp didn’t write his message in a letter.”

  Nancy suggested that the answer might be found in the rug.

  “Dad,” she said, “I’m sure there’s a whole message for you in the border of this rug. Oh, if we can only figure it out!”

  Miss Hanson smiled. “You will.”

  The three searchers became so intent on their task that Mr. Drew suggested they lay the rug on the floor in order to study it better. It was not long before Nancy found another clue.

  “Here’s a French word: trouvez. It means find.”

  “Find what?” Miss Hanson asked.

  The three did not discover anything more during the next five minutes.

  “Nancy,” said Mr. Drew, “it’s time for us to go home.”

  He folded the rug, wrapped it in the paper, and carried it to Nancy’s car.

  When the Drews arrived home they were met at the door by the housekeeper, Mrs. Hannah Gruen. She was a sweet-looking, motherly person who had helped to rear Nancy since Mrs. Drew’s death when her daughter was only three years of age.

  “Nancy,” she said, “those blue eyes of yours are sparkling. What has happened?”

  “Another mystery!” Nancy announced. “Come into the living room and we’ll show you.”

  The housekeeper was amazed not only because the identity of the donor was unknown, but also because a message was beginning to unfold itself in the intricate weaving.

  “Hannah,” said Nancy, “try your hand at discovering what we are supposed to find.”

  Mrs. Gruen laid the rug on the living-room carpet, got down on her knees, and began a search. Meanwhile, Mr. Drew had gone upstairs to make a phone call and Nancy went to wash her hands and give Togo, her terrier, his supper.

  Nancy pointed. “Here’s a clue!”

  When she returned to the living room, Hannah Gruen was sitting back on her heels. “I think I’ve found something,” she said. “Look among these vines here. Do you see a word?”

  “Offhand, no,” Nancy replied. “It’s like a vine ladder, isn’t it?”

  “Turn it sideways,” Hannah suggested.

  When she did, Nancy cried out in surprise. Woven in and out of the rungs were several letters. “They spell mannequin!”

  Mr. Drew walked into the room just in time to hear Nancy’s exclamation. “Mannequin? We’re to find a mannequin? It must be the one that used to sit in Farouk’s shopwindow.”

  “That’s a big order!” Nancy remarked. “We haven’t the least idea where she went to.”

  Mr. Drew put an arm around his daughter. “Nancy, I am assigning you the job of locating her.”

  “Oh, Dad, what a challenge!” she said, hugging him.

  The young detective wondered where to begin. She hoped there were further directions in the rug to give her a clue. As soon as dinner was over, she sat down in the living room with the rug on her lap.

  Togo lay beside her. After a while the whole pattern in the rug border became a blur. She had just decided to rest her eyes for a while, when the front doorbell rang. Nancy hastened to the door.

  “Hi, Ned!” she said as a handsome, athletic young man walked in. He was Ned Nickerson, who lived in Mapleton, a town a few miles away from River Heights and dated Nancy regularly. He was a student at Emerson College, where he played football, but during his summer vacation he was selling life insurance.

  “Hi, Nancy! Any new mysteries since I last saw you?”

  “I’m sure you expect me to say no,” she replied with a broad grin, “but I’m going to fool you. I ran into one this afternoon. It’s in the living room.” She led the way inside.

  “A mystery? That rug?” he queried.

  “Yes. I’ll tell you about it on the way to the airport. We’d better hurry so we won’t be late picking up Burt and Dave.”

  Nancy hurried off to tell her father and Hannah that she and Ned were leaving and would bring their friends Bess and George back to the house, together with their two dates.

  Ned stopped first at Bess Marvin’s house. The pretty, slightly plump blond climbed into the car. A few moments later they picked up her cousin George Fayne. The slender, dark-haired athletic-looking girl enjoyed her boy’s name, even though many people teased her about it.

  “I guess you’ll have to step on it,” George remarked to Ned. “You know how Burt hates to wait.”

  Ned drove directly to the far end of the row of airport buildings where passengers from private planes came in. The young people got out of Ned’s car and went into the waiting room. No one was around.

  “I wonder if the boys will be on time,” George said. “You’d think there would be some notice on that bulletin board of incoming flights.”

  Minutes went by. Ned tried to phone the tower to get information but it did not answer. Restless, the group went outside and paced back and forth, keeping their eyes on the sky. Other private planes came in, but not the one they were looking for. Presently they saw a pilot walking toward them. Ned asked him if he knew anything about the N104TR.

  The pilot frowned. “I just heard it’s having trouble with the landing gear. It won’t let down. And they’re low on fuel.”

  Nancy and her friends gasped. Fearful, Bess cried out, “Oh, they’ll crash!”

  CHAPTER II

  “I Love Her”

  MOMENTS later Nancy and her friends saw a small twin-engine plane circling the airport. Sirens began to wail as a crash truck sped out. The runway that had been assigned the crippled plane was quickly sprayed with foam as a protection against fire.

  “Oh, I hope they’ll be all right!” Bess said prayerfully.

  Ned was tense as he remarked, “I understand the owner is a very good pilot. All we can do is hope for the best.”

  The four young people watched tensely as the plane began its descent. Bess turned her head away and bit her lip.

  The plane soared along at what seemed to be just inches above the runway. Seconds later the craft settled down lightly and sent geysers of foam in all directions as it made contact with the ground.

  Then gradually yawing to the right it slid sideways to a stop.

  “Thank goodness!” George murmured.

  Nancy touched Bess. “They’re safe!”

  An open truck roared up to the side of the plane to collect the passengers and the pilot. The runway was far too wet with foam for them to walk on. Dave was the first one to emerge and Bess began to laugh and cry all at the same time.

  “For Pete’s sake!” her cousin George scolded her. “You’ll look a mess by the time Dave gets here.”

  George’s reprimand did the trick. Bess dried her eyes and quickly got out her compact to powder away any telltale tears.

  The truck stopped at the building where Nancy and her friends were waiting to let Burt Eddleton and Dave Evans off. Burt was blond and husky; Dave blond but with a rangy build.

  Bess was the first one to rush forward. She gave Dave such an overwhelming greeting that he looked embarrassed. George greeted Burt less effusively, but said, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “I told Hannah I’d call her when you arrived,” Nancy said, “so she can get the snack ball rolling.”

  Twenty minutes later they were all seated around a huge table in the cozy kitchen. Mr. Drew appeared and said hello to the visitors. Presently he excused himself and went back upstairs to his study.

  Hannah Gruen had prepared one of her midnight specials—toasted ham-and-egg sandwiches over which she had poured a cheese and tomato sauce. Burt and Dave had never had the treat before. Both declared it was one of the best sandwiches they had ever eaten.

  “I’ll introduce it to the fellows at Emerson,” Dave told the housekeeper.

  “Nancy,” said Burt, “you working on another mystery right now?”

  “I’m
trying to locate a missing mannequin, believe it or not.”

  Dave laughed. “That’s certainly something different. If I recall correctly, you started your detective career hunting for The Secret of the Old Clock, and recently we helped you solve the mystery of The Invisible Intruder. Boy, that was a tough case!”

  Nancy showed her friends the mysterious rug and pointed out the message in it that had been unraveled so far.

  “Say, that’s clever!” Dave declared.

  “Dad and I,” said Nancy, “are assuming that the man who sent it is a former client of his named Farouk Tahmasp and that he’s now living in Istanbul.”

  “Did he weave this himself?” George asked.

  “Probably not. I think most of the weavers in Turkey are women. But no doubt Farouk designed it and the weaver wasn’t aware of the message.”

  The rug was laid on the living-room floor and the six young people dropped to their knees and searched for further clues in the border. None of them found any and presently Bess began to yawn.

  “It’s time to go home,” she said.

  The others agreed. As soon as her friends had gone, Nancy turned out the lights and climbed the stairs to her room.

  Directly after breakfast the following morning Nancy and Hannah sat down on the living-room floor to study the rug closely. Tracing each leaf, stem, and geometric symbol was tedious work. In half an hour they had examined only two feet of the design. They had found nothing and stood up to stretch.

  “Do you think part of the message could be in the flowers in the center section of the rug?” the housekeeper said finally.

  “It’s possible,” Nancy replied, “but it would be much harder to disguise it there.” She noticed one place that looked like a pond with tall stemmed water lilies, but found no letters or words in that area.

  She and Hannah worked diligently and five minutes later Nancy exclaimed, “I love—”

  From the doorway a voice asked, “Me? That’s great!”

  Nancy and Hannah looked up to see Ned standing there. As Nancy blushed, Hannah said to him, “How did you get into the house?”