The Mysterious Mannequin (9 page)

They walked to it and Nancy found that the woman at the desk was a music teacher whom she knew.

“Hello, Nancy,” she said. “I guess you’re surprised to see me here. Most of my pupils go away in the summer and I take this part-time job. How come you’re in this neighborhood? Sleuthing?”

Nancy admitted that she was and introduced Ned to Mrs. Armstrong. She told of her search for Aisha Hatun.

Mrs. Armstrong pulled out her card file and thumbed through to the H’s.

“Here it is,” she said. “Miss Aisha Hatun takes out books quite regularly. She must be a great reader. Oh, oh. She has two overdue books.” After a moment’s pause, Mrs. Armstrong continued, “She lives at 26 Dawson Street.”

Nancy was thrilled to have the address. At last she seemed to be getting somewhere on the mystery.

Mrs. Armstrong went on, “She lives with a couple named Kosay.”

Nancy thanked the librarian, said she was glad to see her again, and went off. It was only a few minutes’ walk to 26 Dawson Street.

The Kosay house was small with attractive bushes and a wild profusion of gay-colored flowers.

“Pretty garden,” Nancy remarked.

As she and Ned walked up to the house, he said, “If this is the girl you’re looking for, how will I know it?”

Nancy answered quickly, “If she’s the one who opens the door, I’ll gently step on your foot. If someone else comes and we have to go inside and you and I are separated when she comes into the room, I’ll smooth my hair back.”

Nancy’s pulse quickened as she rang the bell. Half a minute later the door was opened by a very attractive young woman with long black hair. Nancy stepped on Ned’s foot.

THE girl standing in the doorway was the same one who had torn herself away from the burglar!

Nancy tried not to show her excitement and asked, “Are you Miss Aisha Hatun?”

“Yes. You are looking for me?”

At close range the young woman was even prettier than at a distance. But she had a very sad look. She apparently did not recognize Nancy and set her big eyes on Ned admiringly.

For the first time Nancy did not know how to begin a conversation. Aisha certainly did not look like a person who would be a friend of a burglar!

Ned saved Nancy the trouble of launching into the subject. “You are Greek, or perhaps Turkish?” he asked.

Aisha looked bewildered at her questioners but answered, “I came from Istanbul, but I have lived here with my aunt and uncle for several years.”

“You have a very pretty accent,” Ned complimented her. “Do you speak other languages besides Turkish and English?”

For the first time Aisha smiled a little. “I do speak French and Greek,” she answered, then added, “Please tell me who you are and what you want.”

Ned introduced himself and explained that Nancy was an amateur detective.

“Detective?” Aisha repeated, her eyes widening in fear.

There was a slight pause and finally Nancy said, “We’re trying to find something and thought you might help us. But first, tell me about a friend of yours. Two little girls who live next door told us where he lives. His name is Tunay Arik.”

Aisha’s expression changed. She no longer looked sad nor did she smile. With a frown she said scornfully, “He is not a friend.” Then she added, “Will you come inside, please? I would like to talk with you.”

Nancy and Ned followed the girl into the living room. It occurred to Nancy that this was like being transported suddenly into another country. The entire decor was Turkish. There was a beautiful hand-woven Oriental rug on the floor, carved furniture, and several brass filigree lamps with matching oval shades.

After Aisha and her callers had sat down, she said to Nancy, “I recognize you now. You are the girl who was coming after me with the police and Arik told me to run. But why?”

Nancy hedged. She said, “No reason at all,” and smiled. “I don’t look dangerous, do I?”

“Oh no”

Nancy asked, “Didn’t Arik tell you why he wanted you to run away?”

“No.”

Ned spoke up, saying he thought this was rather strange. “And he hasn’t phoned you since?”

Aisha said her aunt had taken a call from him while the girl was out, but she had not returned it.

She suddenly set her jaw and said, “I don’t like Tunay Arik. I never have liked him but he keeps bothering me to date him. I never will.”

“But you did meet him on the street,” Nancy reminded her.

“Yes, I admit it. He phoned that he had received a very important letter from Istanbul which I must read at once. He said that since I would not let him come here, would I please meet him on that corner where you saw us.” Tears came into Aisha’s eyes.

Nancy and Ned looked at each other, wondering just how to proceed with the interview. Ned decided to be straightforward about it.

He asked, “Did the letter say that Farouk Tahmasp was dead?”

At the question Aisha burst into tears, raising one arm to her face to hide her emotions from the visitors. She got up, turned her back, and continued to sob.

But finally she spoke, looking straight at Nancy and Ned. “But how do you know this?”

Nancy did not answer the question direct. She walked over to the distraught girl, “Aisha, my father is a lawyer. He and I suspect that the letter Arik showed you is a forgery!”

“I do not understand,” Aisha said. “A forgery?”

Nancy nodded. “We think Arik wrote that letter himself right here in River Heights. The paper was made in the United States and it’s most unlikely that kind is sold in Turkey.”

Aisha, who had pulled a handkerchief from a pocket, dried her eyes. “Tell me more of what you think. Tunay said a Greek friend named Seli sent it.”

Nancy walked back to her chair and sat down. “Aisha,” she said slowly, “we think there’s a good possibility that Farouk Tahmasp is still alive!”

The Turkish girl looked into space for a moment, then cried out, “How wonderful! Oh, you think this is true?”

Ned answered. “We all do.”

Aisha’s whole attitude changed. Color came back into her face and she smiled happily.

“Where is Farouk now?”

“We think,” said Nancy, “that he’s in Istanbul.”

“Istanbul!” Aisha exclaimed. “So that’s where he went.”

She stared out the window. When her gaze returned to the callers, the sad look had come back into her face.

“I will tell you the whole story,” she said, and sat down. “Farouk and I were in love and very happy. Then suddenly he got into some kind of trouble about smuggling. He never explained it to me but insisted he was innocent. Finally he ran away. I had a letter from him mailed in Paris explaining that he had decided to move out one night. After that I never heard from him again.”

“When was that?” Ned asked.

“About two years ago. For months I waited for another letter but nothing came. I didn’t try to trace him because I thought he had found someone else.”

On a hunch Nancy said, “Was it at that time Arik began trying to be friendly with you?”

Aisha nodded and said he was very persistent. “He sent me many gifts and would hide nearby so that when I came from the house he would catch up and walk along the street with me. But I would never go anywhere with him.”

The girl paused for several seconds before going on. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I may as well tell you more. That day you saw me reading the letter, Tunay said, ‘Now that Farouk is dead, there is no reason for you not to marry me.’ ”

At once Nancy recalled that she was looking for Arik because he was the one who tried to burglarize the Drew home!

She said, “Aisha, I think there’s a very good reason why you shouldn’t marry Arik. For one thing, your friend Farouk was proved innocent. My father, who handled his case, would like very much to find him and tell him so.”

Aisha suddenly clapped her hands. “That is thrilling! Oh, he just has to be alive!”

Nancy and Ned assured her that they and Mr. Drew would do all they could to prove this.

“Here is my name and address,” Nancy said, taking a card from her purse. “Now please do the following. Don’t talk to Arik. In the meantime we’ll try to find out if that letter he showed you was definitely a fake.”

Aisha took the card and glanced at it. “I’ll call you if I hear anything,” she promised.

She looked so weary that Nancy decided they had better not talk any more. After all, the Turkish girl had been under a great emotional strain.

Nancy rose and said they must go. She put an arm around Aisha as they walked to the door. Impulsively the Turkish girl kissed her.

“You are a wonderful person,” Aisha said. Casting her big eyes on Ned, she added, “And you too. Nancy is lucky to have you for a friend.”

Ned grinned. “I think so.”

Nancy gave him a sideways look and laughed softly. He opened the front door and waited for her to step outside. Then he followed.

Before they had a chance to say good-by to Aisha, she said, “Oh, wait a minute! I forgot. When you first came you said you were hunting for something and thought I might be able to help you.”

“That’s right,” Nancy replied. “It’s about the mannequin in Farouk’s window. Do you know where she is?”

To the surprise of Nancy and Ned a look of utter fright came over Aisha’s face. Instead of answering, she quickly said good-by and shut the door.

NED began to laugh. “I don’t often have doors shut in my face,” he said.

Nancy was puzzled. Why had Aisha looked frightened? Apparently she knew something about the mannequin which she did not dare reveal.

Had George’s guess been right that something valuable—and perhaps illegal—had been hidden inside the figure? She reminded Ned of this.

He did not think that the incident of Aisha shutting the door on them had any important significance. “Maybe she decided we were getting too nosy,” he said. “Or—and here’s a whole new idea for you, Miss Detective—if Aisha knows Farouk loves the mannequin, maybe she’s jealous!”

This remark made Nancy laugh. “Well, I suppose our next move is to find out from Arik if that note was a fake.”

“Where do you plan to start?” Ned queried.

Nancy said she thought they should go back to Tunay’s rooming house and ask the owner where he worked. She grinned at Ned. “Suppose you talk to the suspect. He may recognize me and run off again.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

They set off for Arik’s street, wondering if the two little girls would be around and might give them any further information about him. But they were not in sight. Nancy rang the bell of the rooming house. The same pleasant woman came to the door and without hesitation told the couple they would find Arik at the Bedford Carpet Factory.

“I don’t know the street name, but it’s somewhere along the river.”

“I know where it is,” said Nancy. “It has nice grounds and it’s opposite a park.”

“That’s right,” the woman said. “I always fix a lunch for Arik. He says he eats it in the park.”

Nancy thanked her and the couple went off. They were delighted with this latest information. Now it would be fairly easy to spot Arik!

Since it was nearing lunchtime, Ned drove directly to the factory. For a long area in front of it there were “no parking” signs so he had to drive to the next side street to leave the car. He and Nancy walked back along a high iron picket fence to the main entrance.

Suddenly Nancy grabbed Ned’s arm. “Look!” she exclaimed. “Up by the office door!”

Ned glanced in that direction just in time to see a man who had run out of the office whip a black kerchief from his face. In his other hand he was carrying a bulging money sack.

“I’ll bet he robbed the place!” Nancy cried out. Nearby was a street telephone booth. “Ned, I’ll call the police.”

“And I’ll try to stop that man!” he said.

Nancy had just closed herself inside the glass booth when Ned noticed a car coming at a swift pace up the street. It was probably a getaway car!

By this time the robber was almost at the entrance to the grounds. Ned turned quickly onto the path. The next second he grabbed the man in a crunching football tackle.

The fellow went down and the money sack flew from his hand. Instantly Ned dashed to pick up the sack and threw it as far and hard as he could toward the office door.

In that split second the man rushed to the sidewalk and jumped into the car which had stopped. Ned was tempted to follow, but realized that both the robber and the driver might be armed. He did manage, however, to get the license number.

Before the car was out of sight, four policemen roared up in a sedan. Nancy dashed over to them and told what had happened, while Ned gave the license number. In a flash two of the officers took off after the robbers’ car. The other two started up the walk toward the factory.

Ned looked at his companion. “This is one time the police must take over.”

Nancy and Ned followed them, however. Ned pointed to the money sack and one of the officers picked it up. They all walked inside.

“Oh!” Nancy gasped.

On the floor near a desk lay a girl not much older than herself. She was unconscious but beginning to stir. One of the officers pulled a small vial of ammonia salts from his pocket and waved it under the girl’s nostrils.

As her eyelids fluttered open, a door at the rear of the office opened and a heavy-set balding man entered. He looked in astonishment at the scene before him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

The officer holding the bag of money raised it. “Is this yours?” he asked.

“My payroll!” the man shouted. “What happened? Where did you get this?”

The officer responded, “This couple here can give you more details than I can.”