The Clue of the Velvet Mask Read online

  “The house has been robbed!”

  “The library?”

  “Yes, and the thieves have escaped.”

  “No one has come down the trellis since I’ve been here.”

  “Then the thief got away before you went on guard or he slipped out of the house while the lights were off,” Nancy declared, and then added, “What’s this?”

  She stared at a tiny piece of cloth which had snagged on a protruding nail in the trellis.

  “It must have been torn from that man’s cloak!” Nancy exclaimed as she removed it. “Ned, it’s a good clue. Come on! Let’s see if the thief is still here.”

  Reentering the house, Nancy and Ned looked around, but he was not among the guests, who now had removed their masks. The couple learned that Linda Seeley had summoned the police. The girl was deeply distressed, fearful that the Hendrick family might blame her for what had taken place.

  “I was afraid that this very thing would happen!” she moaned. “If only the Hendricks had allowed a closer check of the guests!”

  Nancy and Ned instigated a search of both the house and grounds, but as they had expected, no trace was found of the woman in Javanese garb or the man in the black robe. An empty parking space near the entrance to the house indicated that they had probably left by automobile.

  The scream of a siren announced the arrival of a police car. Lieutenant Kelly and Detective Ambrose, whom the Drews knew well, inspected the library, affirming that the thief had entered through the second-story window. From information provided by Nancy and the maid, it was obvious that the man had been aided by at least two accomplices inside the house—probably the woman in the Javanese costume and someone in the basement who had turned off the lights.

  The police checked the three areas for fingerprints. Afterward they listened attentively when Nancy and Ned told their story and showed the note, the piece of cloth, and the velvet mask. Then Ambrose went off.

  Lieutenant Kelly said, “Nancy, we’re certainly obliged to you for this evidence. You say that man you danced with had on a mask like this one?”

  “Yes. Would you mind letting me borrow it? I’m interested in the case and would like to look the mask over for clues. I’ll bring it to headquarters any time you say.”

  “I’ll have to ask the chief about that,” Kelly said. “For you he might do it.”

  The officer went to the telephone and returned a short time later.

  “Okay, Nancy,” he said. “I’ll photograph the mask and you sign for it.” He pulled out a notebook and wrote a receipt, which Nancy signed. “The chief says he’ll appreciate your help on this case,” Kelly added, smiling, “and we’ll let you know when we need the mask.”

  In the meantime his assistant, Detective Ambrose, a brusque young man, had gone to look for Linda Seeley. He brought her to the group.

  “You’re in charge of this party?” he asked.

  “Yes, Officer,” Linda replied. “That is, I am in the absence of Mr. Tombar. At the last minute he had other business to attend to, so he asked me to substitute for him.”

  “We would like you to answer some questions,” Detective Ambrose said sternly, “but of course you do not have to do so without first consulting a lawyer.”

  Linda turned pale. “I’ll answer,” she said. “I have nothing to hide.”

  The detective shot rapid-fire questions at the frightened girl. Who was Mr. Tombar? What company had arranged the party? What precautions had been taken to guard the valuables? Why hadn’t invitations been checked more carefully?

  As the questions became more pointed, Linda answered them hesitantly. Suddenly Ambrose said, “You’d better come along to headquarters.”

  “You’re accusing me of the theft?” Linda gasped. “I had nothing to do with it!”

  Bursting into tears, the girl ran to Nancy. “Don’t let them take me to jail!” she pleaded.

  “I’m sure,” said Nancy, “that Miss Seeley did not commit the robbery. Early in the evening she told me she was worried because there were so many more people here than had been invited.”

  “Is this true, Mrs. Hendrick?” Ambrose asked.

  “Yes, it is,” the hostess replied. “We were very foolish not to have taken Miss Seeley’s advice about asking our guests to show invitations.”

  Ambrose thought this over, then glanced at Nancy. “If you say this girl is all right, we’ll take your word for it,” he said.

  “Then come along, Linda,” Nancy said, linking arms with her. “Ned and I will drive you home.”

  After they picked up their wraps, Gloria Hendrick walked with them to the front door. She smiled kindly at the distressed girl.

  “We know it wasn’t your fault, Linda,” she said, “but we have suffered a dreadful loss and the party’s ruined. Oh, Nancy, I wish you’d work on the case and help us get back our valuable miniatures. Will you?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Nancy answered.

  On the way home Nancy asked Linda if anyone had rented a black cloak from her company.

  “I don’t think so, although several people at the party did rent costumes from us.”

  “And masks?”

  “Yes, but not like the one you’re carrying.”

  When Nancy reached home she said good night to Ned. He reminded her of the dance to be given by his cousin Helen Tyne on the twenty-eighth.

  “I’ll be here early to pick you up.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Nancy’s father had waited up for her in his den. When she related the strange events at the party, Mr. Drew frowned.

  “Here’s the black velvet hood which the police let me borrow,” she concluded, handing it to her father. “I have a hunch it may be an important clue.”

  “How well do you know Linda Seeley?” her father asked.

  “Not too well,” she admitted. “Linda was in a few of my classes.”

  “She may find herself in serious trouble,” the lawyer said. “The Lightner Entertainment Company is having legal difficulties. Mr. Lightner, the owner, has appealed to me to defend his firm against several threatened lawsuits.”

  “Who’s bringing them?”

  “Former customers whose homes were robbed during parties arranged by the company. They’re demanding that he settle for the losses not covered by insurance. They’ve given him a couple of weeks to decide. Mr. Lightner insists he’s not liable.”

  “You’ll defend the firm, Dad?”

  “I probably will. Before I commit myself, though, I’d like to investigate the company. The trouble is, I’m tied up in an involved real-estate litigation. The case will take me out of town.”

  “How about appointing me your assistant?” Nancy proposed. “I’d love to work on the mystery until you’re free to take over.”

  “I suspected as much.” Her father chuckled. “All right, Nancy. While I’m away, suppose you check on Mr. Lightner, Linda, and the other employees. Find out what you can.”

  “I’ll do that—first thing,” Nancy promised.

  The Lightner office was situated on a narrow downtown street in River Heights. Early the next morning Nancy walked to it, and on the pretext of returning the Spanish costumes asked to see Mr. Lightner.

  He was a short, slightly built man. “What can I do for you?” he inquired nervously. “I trust you found your costumes satisfactory?”

  “In every respect, Mr. Lightner. One of your employees, Linda Seeley, selected them.”

  “Linda is a very capable girl,” the proprietor remarked. “She’s been here only a few months, but she learns fast. And she has clever ideas.”

  Nancy glanced around the room. The office walls were decorated with a variety of weird-looking masks. She complimented Mr. Lightner on his unusual collection, then asked thoughtfully, “You have a great many velvet masks, I suppose?”

  “Yes. Most of them are kept in the wardrobe rooms. Would you like to see them?”

  “Very much.”

  Mr. Lightner pressed a b
uzzer, summoning an employee to show Nancy through the wardrobe rooms.

  “I wish I had time to take you around myself,” Mr. Lightner said regretfully. “I could talk myself hoarse on the subject of masks.”

  Nancy asked if there was any particular historical significance connected with the wearing of black velvet masks.

  “Oh yes,” he replied. “Many men wore them during the reign of Louis XIV in France. In that period of terror and political intrigue it wasn’t safe for certain persons to appear on the streets except in disguise. Black velvet hoods were worn especially with wide-sleeved dominoes or robes.”

  “Do you have some of these robes for rent?”

  “Yes. John will show them to you.”

  John Dale proved to be an attractive and amiable guide. When they finished the tour of the wardrobe rooms, Nancy broached the subject of black dominoes. She told of having been at the Hendricks’ masquerade and dancing with a strang er who was wearing that type of robe.

  “I’ve been wondering who he is,” she said. “Did you happen to rent such a costume?”

  “No, I didn’t,” John replied. “Everyone who came to me wanted something spectacular. Would you like to see our black cloaks? We have several kinds.”

  “Yes, I would,” Nancy replied, trying to stifle her excitement. It was possible that someone else in the firm had rented the costume to the thief I

  CHAPTER III

  False Discoveries

  JOHN Dale showed Nancy a rack of black cloaks, some with attached hoods. He was closing the glass door of the case when Nancy’s eyes fastened on a particular robe.

  “Wait!” she exclaimed. “May I see that costume a moment?”

  The long black cloak, which hung in graceful folds, had a slight tear near the hem. Examining it closely, Nancy noted that a tiny piece of material was missing and a rose thorn was caught in the frayed threads. This cloak must have been worn by the masked man she and Ned had seen at the garden trellis!

  “Was this cloak returned here today?”

  “I don’t know,” John replied. “You’ll have to ask either the intake clerk or Mr. Lightner.”

  “I’ll see Mr. Lightner,” Nancy decided. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  She could not find Mr. Lightner immediately. Finally she saw him on the street about to get into his car and beckoned to him. He returned with her to the wardrobe room.

  John Dale was no longer there, but he came back shortly, saying that Mr. Tombar, the assistant manager, had asked him to go on an errand.

  “Now let’s see this cloak you say has a hole in it,” Mr. Lightner said to Nancy. “The costume never should have been returned to the rack without being repaired.”

  Twice Nancy looked through the costumes, examining every one. The telltale cloak was not there!

  Seeing an empty hanger, she asked John, “Did you remove the one I pointed out to you?”

  “Why, no,” he answered.

  “Then someone took it while you were called away. You saw the cloak yourself only a few minutes ago.”

  “Yes, I did,” the man replied.

  Mr. Lightner checked with his other employees by telephone, but all denied having seen or removed the costume.

  “Mr. Lightner, would you mind telling me who rented the cloak?” Nancy asked.

  “Not at all. Every garment has a number. The one that belongs on this hanger is 4579. Come with me and we’ll look into the matter.”

  Records showed that the cloak, a velvet mask, and accessories had been rented two days earlier to a James Flobear, Route 1, in Brandon, a small town about twenty miles from River Heights.

  Mr. Lightner’s next remark stunned Nancy. He said that Linda Seeley had handled the transaction. But Linda had said the night before that her company had not rented any black robes!

  Summoned by Mr. Lightner, the girl denied any knowledge of the cloak. “I didn’t know that costume had been rented,” she declared. “Someone else put my initials on the typed slip.”

  “What!” Mr. Lightner exclaimed.

  He was very upset and summoned every employee in the place. They all came except Mr. Tombar, who was busy with a customer. Each denied any knowledge of the entry for the torn cloak or its disappearance.

  Mr. Lightner paced the floor. “This is bad—very bad for business,” he declared. “This firm is old and has a fine reputation.”

  To break the tension Nancy asked how the costume had been returned. None of the employees had an answer.

  Deeply troubled over the incident, Nancy decided to make an attempt to track down James Flobear. A short time later she left the entertainment company and telephoned the Brandon police. She learned that no one by the name of Flobear lived in or near the town.

  “Just as I suspected,” Nancy said to herself. “Obviously a false name was given so there could be no follow-up. And whoever had charge of the transaction at Lightner’s is afraid of becoming involved or may even be working with the party thieves!”

  Next, Nancy went to police headquarters, where she talked with Chief McGinnis. He praised her for her detective work at the Hendricks’ masquerade party, and listened attentively as she reported her new discoveries.

  “You have a very keen eye for clues, Nancy,” the chief said with a smile. “You certainly beat us to that one. I’ll send a man over to Lightner’s to check on the cloak episode.”

  Nancy asked if the police had at any time suspected the entertainment company in connection with the party robberies.

  “We, of course, ran a routine check on the company. Had everyone in it shadowed for two weeks, even Mr. Lightner. But we didn’t find evidence against any of them.”

  Nancy said quickly, “Last night Detective Ambrose seemed very suspicious of Linda Seeley who works there.”

  “We’re keeping our eyes on her,” the chief admitted. “But there’s no direct evidence against her, you understand. It’s possible she may be accepting a percentage on each haul for supplying information. Miss Seeley may be working with the gang and also with servants in the homes where big parties are arranged by the Lightner Entertainment Company.

  “The girl has a clean record so far,” the captain continued. “We never would have suspected her if we hadn’t been tipped off by her boss.”

  “Mr. Lightner?” Nancy gasped.

  “No, by his assistant, Peter Tombar. He suggested that the girl might bear watching, because she was specifically in charge of certain parties at which robberies took place.”

  “I just can’t believe Linda is guilty,” Nancy said.

  She left police headquarters more troubled than ever over the girl’s predicament. Could Peter Tombar’s opinion be trusted?

  “I think I’ll go and have a talk with him,” she reflected.

  It was nearing noontime when she reached the Lightner offices. Most of the employees had gone to lunch, but Mr. Tombar was there. A secretary directed Nancy to a rear room where he was inspecting an Egyptian mask.

  Peter Tombar cast an unfriendly glance at Nancy. He was a rather stout man, dark-complex-ioned, with a hard, determined set to his jaw.

  Nancy sensed instantly that Mr. Tombar would not cooperate unless it suited his purpose to answer her questions. Lowering her voice and assuming a confidential manner, she introduced herself as a private investigator.

  “Mr. Tombar, I’m here to check up on one of your employees—a girl named Linda Seeley.”

  A glint of satisfaction flickered in the man’s dark eyes. Immediately he became less guarded.

  “In trouble with the police, isn’t she?” he demanded. “I told Mr. Lightner a week ago that that girl would get the company in hot water.”

  “Tell me what you know about her,” Nancy urged.

  “She’s flighty. Scatterbrained, I’d call her.”

  “You’ve caught her in mistakes?”

  “Well, not exactly,” Tombar admitted reluctantly. “She’s crafty. Twists like a pretzel when you try to pin her down.”

&nb
sp; “Then you actually haven’t anything against her?” Nancy continued.

  “A man has his own reasons for not liking hired help and he doesn’t have to tell why!”

  Nancy decided not to pursue this line of questioning and asked calmly, “By the way, have you any theory concerning the recent party thefts?”

  “I have!” Tombar returned with emphasis. “And I guess you know the person I mean.”

  Nancy nodded. But more convinced than ever of Linda’s innocence, she felt an even stronger urge to help the girl. Tombar plainly intended to have Linda discharged if he could find some pretext.

  Nancy left his office and walked across the street. Her dislike of the man was increasing and she wondered what motive he had for casting suspicion on Linda.

  Passing a drugstore with a soda counter, Nancy went in for a sandwich. To her delight Linda was there too. She slid onto a stool beside her.

  After giving her order, she drew Linda into conversation. The girl seemed very despondent, and Nancy could guess the reason.

  “It’s Mr. Tombar,” Linda confessed. “He lectured me again this morning.”

  “What about?”

  “The robbery last night, and the missing black cloak.”

  “The cloak hasn’t been found?”

  “Not yet. Mr. Lightner is most annoyed. Oh, everyone’s in a frightful mood.”

  As Nancy stirred her iced tea, she said, “Tell me about Mr. Tombar. What’s he like?”

  “Vinegar and acid. He’s efficient, though. Mr. Lightner depends on him, but Mr. Tombar’s a slave driver, always bawling out employees if they’re a minute late.”

  “Is he always on time himself?” Nancy asked.

  “Oh yes. But he makes up for it by taking a two-hour lunch nearly every day. He waits until the others get back, then goes off alone.”

  “Where does he eat?” Nancy asked.

  “I don’t know,” Linda answered. “Maybe out of town. He always takes his car.”

  Two hours for lunch was a long time for a strict disciplinarian like Tombar! The information interested Nancy, who mulled over it as she ate her sandwich.

  “I must go now,” Linda said with an anxious glance at the wall clock. “See you later.”