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The Cinderella Ballet Mystery Page 3
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“Oh.”
Nancy turned to go. But just then she noticed something shiny and glittery in the pile of Gregory’s stuff.
It was a rhinestone. A small, clear, heart-shaped rhinestone.
It looked just like the rhinestones from the missing Cinderella slippers!
CHAPTER SIX
A Blazing Headline
Nancy stared at the glittery, heart-shaped rhinestone lying among Gregory’s things. It had to have fallen off one of the Cinderella slippers.
Did this mean that Gregory was the slipper thief?
“That looks like one of the rhinestones from the Cinderella slippers,” Nancy said, pointing to the jewel.
Gregory stared at the rhinestone. His cheeks flushed red.
“That’s not mine,” he said quickly. “I don’t know how it got there.”
Nancy tried to figure out if Gregory was lying. She couldn’t tell. Still, he seemed to be hiding something.
“You don’t know how it got there?” Nancy asked him.
“No way,” Gregory said.
“It’s definitely not yours?” Nancy persisted.
Gregory shook his head.
Nancy picked up the rhinestone. “Can I have it, then?”
“Sure,” Gregory said with a shrug. “I don’t want it.”
Scruffy nuzzled his nose in Nancy’s hand and sniffed the rhinestone. He began barking loudly.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Nancy asked him.
Scruffy continued to bark at the jewel.
“Scruffy, be quiet!” Gregory said. He picked up one of his dirty socks and threw it across the floor. “Fetch, Scruffy!” he ordered.
Just then Nancy got an idea. While Gregory watched Scruffy fetch his sock, she leaned over and peeked into his dance bag. If Gregory was the slipper thief, the slippers might be in there.
But they weren’t. All she could see was a paperback book, a magazine, and … a magnifying glass.
A magnifying glass? Nancy frowned. What was Gregory doing with that?
Scruffy had finally stopped barking and was chewing vigorously on Gregory’s sock. Nancy turned to Gregory with a smile. “So why are you carrying a magnifying glass in your dance bag?” she asked him.
Gregory started. “Hey, what are you doing looking in my bag?” he demanded.
“It was open, and I just happened to—” Nancy began.
Gregory picked up his belongings and threw them into his bag. “You should stop poking around in other people’s stuff,” he said gruffly.
With that, he grabbed his bag and headed over to the barre.
That night, the Clue Crew met at Nancy’s house to go over their case. Nancy and Bess sat cross-legged on Nancy’s bed while George sat at Nancy’s desk.
“We have two new clues,” Nancy announced.
She held out the heart-shaped rhinestone and the piece of paper that said, “taille 35.” Bess and George studied them carefully.
“What does ‘taille’ mean?” Bess mused. “Did somebody misspell the word ‘tail,’ as in a doggy tail?”
“Maybe it’s in code,” George suggested.
“I wondered about that too,” Nancy said. “In any case, I think it’s definitely a clue because the letters are just like the fancy letters on the slipper shoe box.”
George typed all this into Nancy’s computer. “I know,” she said suddenly. “Why don’t I do a search for the word ‘taille’ on the Internet?”
“That’s an awesome idea!” Nancy said eagerly.
George got on the Internet and typed in a series of commands. After a moment, she glanced up from the computer. “It’s a French word pronounced like ‘tie,’” she announced. “It means ‘size.’”
“Size?” Bess frowned. “So ‘taille thirty-five’ means size thirty-five?”
“I’ve never heard of a size thirty-five,” Nancy said.
“Me neither,” George said. “It sounds really, really big!”
George entered this new information into the computer. As she typed, Bess took the rhinestone from Nancy and examined it closely.
“It’s so pretty,” Bess said. Then she frowned. “If Gregory stole the Cinderella slippers and put them in his dance bag, the rhinestone could have fallen off one of the slippers.”
“Or someone could have planted the rhinestone there to make him look guilty,” Nancy pointed out.
George looked up from the computer. “We have three clues now: the barrette, the piece of paper with ‘taille 35,’ or size 35, on it, and the rhinestone heart,” she reminded the other members of the Clue Crew. “The barrette doesn’t exactly fit with Gregory being the thief.”
“That’s true,” Nancy agreed. “Although Gregory sure owns a lot of weird stuff. Today I saw a magnifying glass in his dance bag.”
“A magnifying glass?” Bess repeated. “Who does he think he is, Sherlock Holmes?”
Just then, a bell-like ting! sounded on Nancy’s computer. George peered at the screen. “Andrea is instant messaging us,” she announced.
“What did she say?” Nancy asked, leaning over.
“She says, ‘Check out Deirdre’s website right away,’” George read.
“Deirdre’s website?” Bess repeated, looking confused.
George typed in the address for the Dishing with Deirdre site. Nancy and Bess got up from the bed and gathered around George.
The home page of Dishing with Deirdre filled Nancy’s computer screen. Across the top of it was the blazing headline WHO STOLE CINDERELLA’S SHOES?
“What!” Bess burst out.
“Typical Deirdre,” George muttered.
Nancy reached forward for the mouse and used it to scroll down the page. Deirdre had written a “late-breaking story” about the theft of the Cinderella slippers from Tim McGuire’s dance studio.
Then Nancy noticed something strange. Deirdre had included a photograph of the Cinderella slippers.
The slippers were lined up on a sidewalk in front of a brick wall.
What is wrong with this picture? Nancy asked herself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A New Suspect
Nancy pointed to the photo. “Do you notice something really weird?” she asked her friends.
George and Bess stared at the photo. “N-no,” George said after a moment.
“It’s just a picture of the slippers,” Bess said, shrugging.
Nancy stabbed her finger at the computer screen. “This photo was taken outside,” she explained. “How did Deirdre take a photo of the slippers outside?”
Bess gasped. “She must have taken the slippers from the studio!” she exclaimed.
George’s eyes widened. “Maybe Deirdre is the slipper thief!” she said.
Nancy peered at the screen. “George, can you make this photo bigger?” she asked.
“No problem,” George said.
George’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she zoomed the photo to 150 percent, then 200 percent. “Is that big enough for you?” she asked Nancy.
Nancy nodded. “Perfect! Now, can you print it out?”
George went into the print menu and hit several keys. Nancy’s printer whirred to life. A minute later it spit out a color copy of Deirdre’s photo. The copy was twice the original size of the photo.
Nancy studied the printout. “None of the heart-shaped rhinestones are missing,” she said after a moment. “That means this photo was taken before the rhinestone got into Gregory’s bag somehow.”
“Maybe Deirdre stole the slippers, then planted the rhinestone in Gregory’s bag to make him look guilty,” Bess suggested.
“Maybe,” Nancy agreed.
“Deirdre’s photo is an important clue,” George said. “I have a feeling the Clue Crew is getting close to solving the case!”
“Yes!” Bess said, giving George a high five.
“I hope you guys are right,” Nancy told her friends.
On Friday during recess, Nancy, George, and Bess found Deirdre on the swings. Madison was pu
shing her. The day was cool but sunny. A slight breeze stirred the leaves on the trees.
“Higher, higher!” Deirdre shouted to Madison.
Madison pushed Deirdre extra hard. Then she caught sight of Nancy and her friends and stopped.
“Madison, push!” Deirdre shouted.
“Uh, Deirdre? We’ve got company,” Madison said.
Deirdre glanced down. She frowned when she saw Nancy and the others.
“Oh,” Deirdre muttered. “You guys.”
“Hello to you, too!” Bess called out cheerfully.
Deirdre dug her shoes into the dirt to slow down the swing. Dust sprayed up into the air. The swing came to a stop.
“Did you see the late-breaking story on my website?” Deirdre asked the girls with a sly smile.
“We sure did,” Bess replied.
“It was a really interesting read,” George added.
“And you had a really interesting photo to go with it,” Nancy piped up.
Deirdre beamed. “Thanks! I took it myself, of course.”
Nancy smiled. “Of course. Right after you took the slippers from Mr. McGuire’s studio.”
“More like stole,” Bess said meaningfully.
“What made you do it, Deirdre?” George asked her.
Deirdre’s cheeks flushed red. “What are you talking about? I’m not the slipper thief! I just took a photo, that’s all,” she insisted.
“Deirdre’s totally innocent,” Madison defended her friend. Nancy noticed that Madison kept her eyes on the ground, though. Is she hiding something? Nancy wondered.
“I think you guys are taking this Clue Crew stuff a little too seriously,” Deirdre said, her tone turning mean. “I mean, it’s not like you’re real detectives or anything.”
Nancy dug into her pocket and pulled out the folded-up computer printout. She unfolded it and held it up for Deirdre to see.
“Well, this is a real clue,” Nancy said coolly. “And according to this clue, you took this photo outside. Which means that you took the slippers from the studio.”
Madison gasped. “Deirdre, we didn’t think of that,” she said, sounding panicked.
“Be quiet, Madison,” Deirdre whispered.
“So you are the slipper thief,” Nancy said to Deirdre. “Maybe you stole the slippers just so you could write a killer story about it for your website!”
Deirdre got up from the swing. She had a determined look on her face. “I am absolutely, definitely not the slipper thief,” she said firmly. “All I did was … well, I kind of borrowed the slippers for, like, one or two seconds on Tuesday.”
“What does that mean, ‘borrowed’?” Bess asked her.
“I wanted to take a photo of the slippers for my website because they were so awesome looking and special,” Deirdre explained. “But Mr. McGuire said I couldn’t take photos in his studio because it bothered the other dancers or whatever. So I borrowed the slippers during a break. I took them outside, took the photo, and then brought them right back in. It was Madison’s idea,” she added.
“We didn’t steal the slippers,” Madison insisted.
“I thought Mr. McGuire said that you couldn’t even bring your camera to rehearsals any longer,” George said to Deirdre.
“He doesn’t understand,” Deirdre complained. “A reporter can’t be without her camera!”
Nancy was thoughtful. “You took the photo on Tuesday,” she said after a moment. “But you didn’t post your story until Wednesday, after the slippers were missing. “
Deirdre nodded. “The whole thing was kind of a coincidence. I took the photo on Tuesday and posted it on my website Tuesday night. Ask anybody! Then on Wednesday, we all found out at rehearsal that the slippers had been stolen. When I got home that night, I wrote my excellent piece called, ‘Who Stole Cinderella’s Shoes?’ I posted it right away, next to the photo. I was really glad that I just happened to have the photo to go with the story.”
Nancy considered this. Deirdre sounded like she was telling the truth. Or was she?
The bell rang, signaling the end of recess. “Gotta go,” Deirdre said, waving at Nancy and the girls. “Good luck with your Crew Clue or whatever.”
“Clue Crew!” George corrected her.
Deirdre ignored George. She turned and hurried through a crowd of kids toward the door. Madison followed close behind.
“Do we believe her?” Bess asked Nancy and George.
“I don’t know,” George replied, frowning in Deirdre’s direction.
Nancy stuffed the printout of Deirdre’s photo back into her pocket. “I don’t know either,” she said worriedly. “But I do know this: Tomorrow is opening night. We’re running out of time!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The French Clue
“It’s the dress rehearsal, and I don’t have any shoes to wear!” Andrea said, her eyes welling with tears.
It was Friday night. Mr. McGuire’s studio was filled with the cast of the “Cinderella” ballet. Parents and other volunteers were busy helping the children on with their costumes or stage makeup.
“You can wear your pink ballet slippers for tonight,” Mr. McGuire told Andrea. His cell phone began ringing. “Excuse me,” he said, walking away to take the call.
Nancy was standing nearby, her mouse costume slung over her arm. She walked over to Andrea. “It’s going to be okay,” she told Andrea. “The Clue Crew is going to keep looking for your Cinderella slippers until we find them!”
“I don’t know,” Andrea said doubtfully.
Nancy patted her dance bag. “We have those three clues I e-mailed you about: the rhinestone, the barrette, and the piece of paper with a French word on it. They’re in my bag. We have some suspects, too. Don’t worry, we’ll find your slippers by tomorrow night.”
“Okay,” Andrea said. But she didn’t look very sure.
One of the parents called Andrea over so she could style her hair. Andrea waved to Nancy and rushed off.
Nancy glanced around the room. Bess was getting sparkly eye shadow put on her eyelids by one of the volunteers. She looked so pretty in her fairy godmother costume, which was a glittery gold dress with a matching tiara.
George was on the other side of the studio, wearing her wicked stepmother costume: a long, dark gray dress with a high collar. Her eyebrows had been transformed into pointy, severe arches with a black eye pencil. Nancy thought George looked pretty scary!
“Can I help you on with your costume, Mademoiselle Nancy?”
Nancy turned around. Ms. Zelda was standing there. She had a box of safety pins in one hand and a sewing kit in the other. There was a long white tape measure draped around her neck.
“Thanks, Ms. Zelda, that would be great,” Nancy said. Her mouse costume was kind of complicated.
Ms. Zelda led Nancy to a quiet corner of the studio. She took the mouse costume from Nancy and studied it carefully. “Why don’t you sit on the floor and we can slip this on your feet first?” she suggested.
Nancy obeyed. Ms. Zelda tugged the mouse costume over Nancy’s feet, which were covered with pink ballet tights.
“Hmm, maybe the mouse legs are still a little long,” Ms. Zelda fretted. “I must pin them for you.”
“Okay,” Nancy said. “Thanks, Ms. Zelda.”
As Ms. Zelda worked, Nancy looked around restlessly. She wished she could gather her Clue Crew around her and get back to work: searching for clues, interviewing witnesses, anything. But she knew this was dress rehearsal time. No matter how important it was to find the missing slippers, she, George, and Bess had to focus on their last chance to rehearse.
Ms. Zelda gave a big yawn. “Oh, pardonnezmoi,” she said, covering her mouth.
“Are you sleepy?” Nancy asked with a smile.
Ms. Zelda yawned again and nodded. “I have been working so hard here lately,” she explained. “Sewing all the costumes, helping with the ticket sales, even designing the program. Oh, and a few nights ago Mr. McGuire asked me to help him move some o
ld Nutcracker set pieces from the set storage area up to the attic, to make room. It was hard work—tres difficile. My muscles still ache from that.”
Nancy sat up a little straighter. The set storage area? That was where she had found the piece of paper with the words “taille 35” on it.
Nancy reached over to get her dance bag. “Don’t move,” Ms. Zelda instructed her. “I must put one last pin in—there! Now you can move.”
Nancy opened her dance bag and pulled out the “taille” clue. She showed it to Ms. Zelda.
“Do you know what this is?” Nancy asked her.
Ms. Zelda shrugged. “Mais oui, of course. It is a French shoe size.”
“A shoe size? Isn’t thirty-five kind of big for a shoe size? Maybe it’s a shoe size for giants!” Nancy giggled at her own joke.
Ms. Zelda chuckled. “No, no. France is part of Europe. European shoe sizes are different. A European size thirty-five is about—oh, let us see, a size four for girls in America.”
“Really?” Nancy exclaimed.
“Yes, really.” Ms. Zelda looked amused. “Now, please stand up so I can check the rest of your costume.”
Nancy got to her feet. Her mind was spinning.
If taille 35 was the same as a girl’s size 4, the piece of paper must have definitely fallen out of the box containing the Cinderella slippers. She remembered Andrea telling her once that she was a size 4.
Ms. Zelda bent over low to adjust Nancy’s hemline. Just then Nancy noticed something. Ms. Zelda was wearing a shirt with the monogram Z embroidered on it in black.
Nancy cocked her head to the right. Sideways, the letter Z turned into the letter N. Could the silver barrette—one of the Clue Crew’s clues—be a Z shape instead of an N shape, after all?
Nancy gave a little cough. “Um, excuse me, Ms. Zelda,” she began. “Do you own a silver barrette?”
Ms. Zelda looked surprised. “Oui! But I seem to have lost it. I haven’t seen it in several days.” She stared at Nancy. “Why do you ask?”
Nancy thought quickly. “I think I heard one of the other kids saying they saw something like that,” she said. She wanted to hang on to her clue until she’d solved the case. “I’ll ask around about it.”