The Clue on the Crystal Dove Read online

  Bess Marvin and George Fayne.”

  “How nice to meet you,” Dell said warmly, shaking

  the girls' hands. “I've heard so many wonderful things

  about all of you. Won't you have some champagne,

  Eloise? And girls, sodas or sparkling cider?”

  Before anyone could answer, a creaking noise

  erupted from above them. Nancy looked up, startled by

  the loud tinkling of glass. Nancy gasped. The huge

  chandelier in the center of the ceiling was dangling on

  a broken chain. Before she could alert Dell, the chain

  suddenly broke. The lights fizzled as the electric cord

  snapped from the chandelier's weight.

  Like a gigantic spider poised to embrace them with

  sharp deadly legs, the chandelier was plunging toward

  them!

  5. A Wild Accusation

  “Look out!” Nancy yelled. “The chandelier's falling!”

  Screaming in panic, guests scattered to the edges of

  the room as the chandelier crashed down and the

  orchestra abruptly stopped playing. Shards of crystal

  skimmed across the marble floor, like schools of tiny

  sharks heading for a kill.

  “Ouch!” a woman said, jerking her ankle upward to

  inspect a painful-looking gash. She slumped down on a

  nearby chair, then took a handkerchief from her purse

  and pressed it to her wound. “Dell, are you trying to

  punish me for not wearing a long dress tonight?” she

  asked, smiling feebly.

  Nancy could tell the woman was trying to be brave,

  though her forced smile showed that the cut must have

  been hurting.

  Dell ran over to the woman and offered first aid, as

  well as a flurry of apologies. Curious to inspect the

  chandelier, Nancy lifted her skirt above the glass-lit-

  tered floor and walked gingerly over to it. In the dim

  light of the wall sconces, Nancy could make out

  something white in the middle of the ruined crystal.

  She leaned over it. Her stomach knotted as she re-

  alized what it was—an envelope impaled upon a piece

  of crystal.

  Nancy eyed the fallen chandelier, which resembled

  a jumble of jagged stalagmites reaching up to stab her

  with their razor-sharp points. Very carefully she pulled

  the envelope off the piece of crystal without cutting

  herself.

  Straightening, Nancy ripped open the envelope and

  scanned the typed note. “The day the Van Hoogstraten

  house opens to the public will spell its doom!” she

  read.

  Nancy frowned at the strange message. Folding up

  the note again, she placed it back into the envelope and

  gazed over at the broken chandelier chain and

  electrical wire. The wire looked frayed, she observed,

  as if it could have broken from the weight of the

  chandelier. But the clean break of the chain suggested

  that someone had deliberately used a heavy duty wire

  cutter on it.

  Nancy walked over to Dell, who was supervising a

  middle-aged man bandaging the woman's cut.

  Meanwhile, two waiters started sweeping the broken

  glass into dustpans. A third appeared with a wheel-

  barrow and heaved the arms and body of the chan-

  delier into it.

  The orchestra struck up a lively tune, and the mood

  of the party immediately changed back to festive.

  Guests streamed into the ballroom to dance.

  “Dell,” Nancy said tensely, “there's something I'd

  like to show you.”

  Dell smiled fleetingly. “I'm sorry, Nancy, but I need

  a minute.”

  “I understand,” Nancy said. “But when you have a

  chance, I thought you'd like to know that this has to do

  with the chandelier accident.”

  Dell turned pale. “I hope it's not something bad. I

  can't take more stress, especially at a party that was

  supposed to show off this house.”

  “Don't mind me, Dell, darling,” the injured woman

  said gamely. “I'm as good as new, and I refuse to leave

  the house tonight until I've worn out my shoes dancing.

  Why don't you go find out what this young lady has to

  say?”

  Dell smiled. “Thanks, Eleanor, but there's no reason

  why you and Fred can't find out, too.” She turned her

  lively green eyes on Nancy and said, “Fire away,

  Nancy. I promise you that whatever your news is, the

  three of us can handle it.”

  Nancy hesitated. She was uncomfortable having an

  audience, but feeling she had no choice, she handed

  the envelope to Dell.

  Dell read the note out loud. Then she looked at

  Nancy, Eleanor, and Fred in horror.

  “What an awful message!” Eleanor exclaimed.

  “What's the meaning of that rubbish?”

  “Nothing darling,” the man said. “I'd guess the joker

  didn't plan for the chandelier to fall at the party. Too

  risky.”

  “Whoever did this and wrote that note is trying to

  keep me and my cousins from opening the Van

  Hoogstraten Collection to the public,” Dell said in-

  dignantly. “But we won't be intimidated even by a

  horrendous stunt and a ridiculous message like that!”

  “Do you have any idea why someone would want to

  stop you from opening the museum?” Nancy asked.

  “None at all,” Dell replied with a puzzled frown.

  “It looks as if someone used wire cutters on the

  chain,” Nancy told her. “But the person would have

  needed a very tall ladder to get up there, plus a lot of

  time to cut the chain. Wouldn't you—or someone

  else—have noticed someone out here?”

  Dell chewed her lip thoughtfully, then said, “Earlier

  today, cleaners from an agency were polishing the

  chandelier. They set up tall ladders in the middle of

  this hall. But why would one of the glass cleaners want

  to prevent our museum from opening?”

  “I definitely think you have to tell the agency about

  the incident and ask them to question their workers,”

  Nancy said, adding, “and the police should be

  contacted.”

  “I will,” Dell promised. “Tomorrow I'm sure the

  cleaning service is closed now, and I suppose I should

  call the police tomorrow, too, now that we know the

  chandelier was rigged to fall. But I'm not going to ruin

  the party by asking them to come by tonight.” She

  sighed and added, “Well, if you're really okay, Eleanor,

  why don't you and Fred circulate? I'm going to try to

  forget the whole incident and do some mingling myself

  to try to raise everybody's spirits.”

  The group broke up, and as Nancy looked around at

  the dancers and groups of happily chatting guests, she

  didn't think that Dell would have any trouble raising

  people's spirits. It was odd that everyone seemed to

  have forgotten about the incident already, she mused.

  “Hey, Nancy,” Bess said as she strolled by arm in

  arm with Alden Guest, who looked handsome and

  confident in his tuxedo. “Look who I found.”

  “Hello there, Nancy,” Alden said, b
eaming. “It's

  wonderful to see you again. Don't forget—you owe me

  a dance.”

  Nancy promised to dance with him later, and he and

  Bess drifted away.

  Alone once more, Nancy studied the broken chain

  dangling forlornly from the ceiling. What was that

  strange note all about? she wondered. She was

  tempted to offer Dell help investigating the note, but

  Dell seemed so preoccupied that Nancy decided not to

  press her.

  I'll come back tomorrow to offer her my help then,

  Nancy decided—even if George and Bess give me grief

  about getting involved in another mystery.

  A waiter announced dinner, and the guests streamed

  into the vast dining room, which was filled with circular

  tables, each seating eight. Placecards had been placed

  at each table setting, and Nancy found hers at Table

  Six.

  Standing behind her chair, Nancy stole a glance at

  the placecards on either side of her place. The one on

  her left said Walter Lang while the righthand one said

  Violet Van Hoogstraten. Neither name was familiar to

  her, though she assumed that Violet was a relative of

  Dell's and Alden's.

  “Let me help you with your chair,” came a man's

  voice on her left. Looking over, Nancy saw a short but

  trim middle-aged man whose close-cropped dark hair

  was thinning slightly. “I'm Walter Lang,” he said,

  introducing himself. Shooting a look at Nancy's

  placecard, he added, “And I assume you're Nancy

  Drew.”

  “Yes,” Nancy said, smiling. She stood aside while he

  pulled out her chair. As she sat down, she asked, “Do

  you know who Violet Van Hoogstraten is?”

  “She's my fiancée's aunt,” he said, sitting down.

  “She's a sweet old lady, but I'm not sure she's coming

  tonight. At least, I haven't seen her yet.”

  “Your fiancée?” Nancy repeated. “Do you mean

  Dell?”

  “The very same,” he said, his dark eyes twinkling.

  “Dell and I are going to be married very soon.”

  A waiter went around the table placing dinner rolls

  on butter plates with silver tongs. After he had

  finished, Nancy turned to Walter and said, “I under-

  stand you live in Boston.”

  “In Cambridge, actually,” he replied. “I'm a pro-

  fessor of zoology at a university there. Since I'm

  tenured, my job is absolutely guaranteed, so it wouldn't

  make sense for me to move to New York, even though

  this house would be splendid to live in.”

  “Do you think Dell will miss it?” Nancy wondered.

  Walter shrugged. “She seems perfectly happy to be

  moving out of it—time for a change,' she says. I just

  feel guilty that my situation is so inflexible. If she wants

  to marry me, she has no choice but to move out of this

  magnificent house, and I feel bad about that.”

  “But she does have a choice,” Nancy said, smiling. “I

  mean, obviously she'd rather live in Boston with you

  than live in this house without you.”

  “True enough,” Walter said, chuckling, as a waiter

  ladled soup into his bowl. “I'm flattered that she

  prefers me to her house. But that's love for you—

  there's no predicting it.”

  Nancy laughed, amused by Walter's modest charm.

  As she picked up her soup spoon, a soft voice chirped

  into her right ear, “Excuse me, Miss Drew, but haven't

  we met?”

  Startled, Nancy turned to her right and saw an el-

  derly woman sitting down in the empty chair. “I'm

  Violet Van Hoogstraten,” the woman went on, “Dell's

  and Alden's aunt.”

  Nancy gaped. It was the lavender-haired lady who

  had almost fallen off the train!

  Before Nancy could recover from her surprise,

  Alden rushed up to Violet, his face a mask of fury as he

  pointed at her.

  “You!” he cried, his finger shaking. “It was you, Aunt

  Violet, who broke that chandelier. And you did it on

  purpose!”

  6. Sneak Thief

  A hush fell over the room.

  “Alden,” Walter began awkwardly.

  “What are you talking about, Alden?” Violet cut in, a

  bewildered smile playing about her lips. “Breaking

  what?”

  “Stop playing the innocent, Aunt Violet,” Alden

  snapped. “You know perfectly well what I'm talking

  about—the big chandelier in the great hall that crashed

  to the floor and almost killed us all. Its chain had been

  cut—by you, Aunt Violet!”

  Violet turned a puzzled face on Nancy and Walter.

  “What's he talking about?” she asked.

  “The big chandelier in the foyer broke earlier

  tonight,” Walter explained. “I guess you weren't here

  yet, Aunt Violet. It crashed to the floor, and most of the

  crystal on it shattered.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” Violet began, when Dell rushed

  over to her and Alden from a nearby table.

  “Alden,” Dell said, between gritted teeth. “Are you

  out of your mind? How can you be so cruel to Aunt

  Violet in front of all our guests? You've embarrassed

  her terribly.”

  “Oh, it's all right, Dell dear,” Violet said, chuckling.

  “It takes a lot more than a hot-headed nephew to

  embarrass me. Plus, I have an announcement to

  make.” To everyone's surprise, Violet rose from her

  chair, looking demure but confident in a long-sleeved

  taffeta gown that perfectly matched her lavender hair.

  “I want to say a few words to all our lovely guests,”

  she said, tapping her spoon against her water glass to

  get everyone's attention. “I'm not certain how many of

  you heard what my nephew said, but he seems to think

  that I cut the chain of that chandelier and caused it to

  crash to the floor. What I want to say is—he has every

  reason to suspect me.”

  A murmur of surprise rose up among the guests.

  Then the room went absolutely still as everyone hung

  on Violet's next words.

  “Even though I'm innocent of the crime,” she went

  on, “Alden found me climbing down from the ladder

  that had been placed under the chandelier late this

  afternoon. So you see, he's not as crazy as he seems.”

  Titters of amusement rose up among the diners at

  her pronouncement.

  Dell gaped at her aunt as if she couldn't believe her

  ears. Then, recovering herself, she asked, “But why

  were you climbing on the ladder, Aunt Violet?”

  Violet leaned forward and grinned conspiratorially as

  if she were about to confess a naughty secret to a group

  of two hundred people.

  “I came to the house this afternoon because I was

  excited by the party,” she said in her clear, tremulous

  voice. “My mother and father used to have such

  splendid parties, and I was reminded of them by all the

  hustle and bustle that was going on here. I wanted to

  be part of the action, you know, and when I entered

  the great hall a
nd saw the enormous ladder reaching

  up almost to the ceiling, I simply couldn't resist

  climbing it. One rung led to the next, if you will.”

  She grinned mischievously as some of the guests

  giggled.

  Dell appeared flabbergasted. “Aunt Violet, I can

  understand why you wanted to come over today, but

  whatever possessed you to climb up the ladder?”

  Violet winked at the crowd and said, “As Sir Ed-

  mund Hillary said about Mount Everest, I climbed it

  because it was there.”

  “But really, Aunt Violet,” Dell said gravely “you

  shouldn't have done that. You could have been seri-

  ously hurt.”

  “Don't be so strict, Dell dear,” Violet replied.

  “When I saw that ladder, I simply had to climb it. I

  couldn't resist getting an aerial view of the hall. After

  all, I was a well-known aviatrix in my day, you know,”

  she finished proudly.

  Dell pursed her lips, then stole a look at their guests

  all straining to hear more of her aunt's amusing

  revelations. With a resigned sigh, Dell murmured, “I

  think we ought to eat our dinner now, Alden and Aunt

  Violet. We've shown off our family eccentricities long

  enough.”

  Before she returned to her table, Dell grabbed

  Alden's arm and in a low voice said, “You claim Aunt

  Violet is senile, but where was your brain during that

  little scene? Is that the kind of publicity you want for

  the Van Hoogstraten Collection? And what do you

  mean by accusing Aunt Violet of cutting the chain on

  the chandelier—I seriously doubt she was holding wire

  cutters when you saw her on that ladder.”

  “N-no,” Alden said sheepishly. “She wasn't.”

  Returning to his aunt who had just sat down, he added,

  “I'm very sorry, Aunt Violet. My parents always say I

  act impulsively, and I guess they're right.”

  Violet watched her nephew go back to his table,

  then leaned toward Nancy. “My family says I'm

  feather-headed and eccentric,” she confessed, “but I

  say my nephew is the one whose brain is addled. He's

  way too hot tempered, that boy. He has a real New

  York attitude, just like his great-grandfather did. That's

  ambition for you. It's not always the most attractive

  trait, if you ask me.”

  “But Julius had high standards for his work and

  wanted to do well,” Nancy reasoned. “Isn't that a good

  thing?”