The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery (15 page)

Nancy’s heart quickened. If Shana had dropped the

bracelet, then one of these sets of prints was hers. And

if Nancy’s hunch was right, they were the ones that

zigzagged. That probably meant that Shana wasn’t

traveling under her own free will.

Following the tracks, Nancy reached the road

behind the dance school. There, she found new tire

marks on the side where someone had pulled over.

Then she saw the pointy-toed prints mingling with the

other two. Obviously, Gertrude Wolaski had a partner.

But who?

Nancy tried to imagine what happened. Mrs.

Wolaski had gotten Shana out to the parking lot on

some pretense. Then, once outside, she’d somehow

forced the dancer behind the building, where Mrs.

Wolaski’s accomplice had been waiting. Nancy took a

deep breath. In other words, Shana had been

kidnapped.

“It’s time to call your friend Chief McGinnis,”

Lawrence said, after Nancy had returned to the others

and told them what she’d found.

“I know just what he’ll say,” Nancy replied. She

deepened her voice. “ ‘Until someone’s been gone for

forty-eight hours, or unless we discover a ransom note,

there’s nothing we can do.’ ” Nancy sighed. “Actually,

we don’t even have definite proof that Shana was

kidnapped. It’s just my gut feeling.”

“And your gut feelings are usually right,” George

added.

“So what are we going to do?” Bess asked anxiously.

Nancy headed for the school’s front door. “First, we

tell Madame. Then we pay a visit to Gertrude Wolaski’s

house.”

“But why would Gertrude kidnap Shana?” Madame

Dugrand asked when she’d gotten over the initial

shock. Darci had gone back to studio A to gather the

rest of her things.

“What better way to hurt you, Madame, than to

kidnap the star of your show?” Nancy replied.

The directress put her head in her hands. “This is all

so terrible,” she said in a shaky voice.

“We’re heading to Gertrude’s house right now,”

Nancy told her.

“I’m coming with you,” Madame insisted, slipping

on her coat. “We’ll take the van. It will hold all of us

easily.”

“Maybe you should stay here, Bess,” Nancy

suggested. “We’ll check back as soon as we find out

something. If you don’t hear from us in an hour, call

Chief McGinnis and tell him everything.”

Bess’s face fell. “But what if Mrs. Wolaski comes

back here, and I’m all alone?”

“I doubt she’ll show her face here ever again,”

Nancy reassured her friend. “Get Darci to stay with

you. She’ll want to keep her parents posted, too.”

“Okay.” Bess tried to grin bravely.

A few minutes later, as Madame drove down

Galworthy Road, the sky began to darken. Nancy

pointed to a gray clapboard house with a front porch.

“There it is. Pull up on the other side, Madame.”

“Unless they’re sitting in there in the dark, no one’s

home,” George commented as Madame parked across

the street. “What do we do now?”

Nancy pulled her collar up over her neck. “I guess

we knock first, and if no one answers—”

“We bust the door down,” Lawrence growled as he

threw open the van door. “Whoever kidnapped Shana

is going to pay.”

“Well, that’s not exactly what I had in mind,” Nancy

said as she followed him out of the van. Her heart was

pounding as the four of them approached the house.

The street lights hadn’t clicked on yet, so everything

seemed dark and shadowy. Quietly, Nancy walked up

the porch steps, tightly gripping her flashlight. To

make sure they weren’t caught in the act, they wouldn’t

turn the lights on once they were inside.

When she reached the front door, Lawrence

stepped next to her. He held a tire iron in his hand. “I

brought it just in case,” he said in a low voice.

Nancy nodded. “We may need it,” she told him.

“Gertrude’s accomplice, whoever he is, is probably

here, too.” Then she leaned forward and rang the bell.

There was no answer.

George walked over to one of the windows and

peeked in. “The curtains are drawn tight. I can’t see a

thing.”

“We’re going in,” Nancy said grimly. She tried the

knob, then opened her shoulder bag and took out her

lock-picking kit. A few moments later, the door swung

open.

As soon as Nancy stepped inside, it was obvious that

this wasn’t just the home of Gertrude Wolaski. It was

also a shrine to the former ballerina Grace Turner.

Nancy shined her flashlight on the hallway walls, which

were papered with photos and newspaper articles.

Pictures of Grace in different costumes were placed all

around the living room. Ballet memorabilia were

strewn on every table and shelf, and a pair of faded

pink toe shoes hung over the mantel.

“How sad,” Madame Dugrand murmured as she

looked around her. “I wish Gertrude had told me who

she was. Grace Turner was her stage name. I never

knew her as Gertrude. Maybe I could have helped her

work out her anger.”

“I don’t think so,” Nancy said, pointing to a picture

on the living room wall. It was the stolen photo of

Alicia Dugrand in her Sugar Plum Fairy costume. The

glass over the photo was broken, and a large red X was

marked across the young dancer’s face.

Madame Dugrand shook her head sadly. “Poor

Grace,” she said.

“Hey, look at this,” Lawrence called from the other

side of the room. He had opened a large wooden box

he’d found in a corner. “Mrs. Farnsworth’s antique

ornaments.”

George and Nancy rushed over. When Nancy saw

that the valuable decorations—made of delicate glass

in all shapes and colors—were in perfect condition, she

gave a sigh of relief. “Now, if we can just find Shana.

Let’s split into pairs and search the house. Look for

anything that might give us a clue to Mrs. Wolaski’s

accomplice or another address.”

Lawrence and George nodded, then headed for the

kitchen. Nancy and Madame crept silently up the

steps. Two rooms and a bath opened into the narrow

hall. Nancy peered into the first room. It was

Gertrude’s bedroom. Drawers were flung open and

clothes were strewn on the bed, as if someone had

been in a hurry. Something fuzzy was sticking out from

under the bed. When Madame caught sight of it, she

grabbed Nancy’s arm, startled.

Nancy bent down to pick up the fuzzy object. It was

Mrs. Wolaski’s wispy-haired wig. “I guess she doesn’t

need this anymore,” Nancy said grimly. She motioned

for Madame to follow her. “Let’s check the other

room.”

It was a small, sparsely furnished office. Nancy

walked over and opened the front of an oak desk,

shining the flashlight beam on a stack of envelopes.

“Here’s a bank envelope with canceled checks,” she

said. “Maybe they’ll tell us something. Why don’t you

look through them?” she added, handing the envelope

to Madame. Then Nancy began to examine the other

envelopes. Letters, bills . . .

A tap on her arm made Nancy look over at Madame.

The directress was staring at a handful of checks.

“Nancy, look at these.”

Nancy shined the flashlight on the canceled checks.

Then she took them from Madame and looked closely

at each one. There were ten checks in the amount of

five hundred dollars, and every one of them was made

out to Roger L. Wolaski.

They’d found Gertrude Wolaski’s accomplice!

“Roger L. Wolaski,” Nancy murmured. “Do you think

the L could stand for Lutz?” she asked Madame.

“Lutz must be his middle name,” Madame replied.

Then she gasped. “You mean Roger is Gertrude’s son?”

“He may be her son or some other kind of relative,”

Nancy said. “It makes sense, I guess. It would be hard

to recruit a total stranger to help carry out a loony plan

like Gertrude’s.”

When Nancy and Madame made their way back to

the living room, Lawrence and George reported that

the rest of the house was deserted. Nancy explained

Roger’s role in the scheme, and that he was somehow

related to Gertrude.

“Roger Lutz is working with Mrs. Wolaski?”

Lawrence said after Nancy had told him and George

the news. “But he’s such a mousy little guy”

“Roger has to be Gertrude’s accomplice,” Nancy

replied. “He had access to the building. And since he

was always way in the background, no one suspected

him.” She showed Lawrence and George the canceled

checks.

“I never suspected they were related,” George

commented. “Mrs. Wolaski acted as if she didn’t even

know Roger.”

With a dejected expression, Madame slumped down

on the sofa. “How could I have been so blind? I even

saw Roger sneaking around on the day of the fire and

never paid any attention. Those two were sabotaging

my school right under my nose.”

“Now we have to figure out where they took Shana,”

Nancy said. “Madame, when you hired Roger, did you

get an address?”

“Oh, my, I didn’t!” Madame’s shoulders slumped

even more. “I was just so glad to have someone play

the piano for free. He seemed like such a nice man.”

Nancy began pacing back and forth. “Okay,

everybody think. Did Roger ever mention where he

lived? Or mention anything at all about where he lived?

Like he lived with his parents, or in an apartment? And

how about a license plate number, or even what his car

looked like?” Nancy stopped and looked at the others,

but their expressions were blank. “How about what

college he went to?” she tried again.

Lawrence shook his head. “The guy never said ‘boo’

to anyone.”

“I’ll call Bess and Darci to tell them what we found

out.” George started toward the kitchen. “Maybe one

of them knows something.”

While she waited for George to return, Nancy

continued to pace, trying to figure out what to do next.

They could call the police. But what would they tell

them? That the four of them had broken into a house?

That would go over well with the River Heights police.

Suddenly, George rushed back into the room. “I

think I’ve got a clue!” she said excitedly. “Darci

remembers Roger talking about his brand-new

apartment.”

Lawrence snorted. “Well, that narrows it down to

about a hundred or so, just in River Heights.”

Brand-new apartment, Nancy thought, and then

something clicked in her mind. “That’s it!” she cried.

“Come on, everyone. I know where Roger lives!”

When they were back in the van, Nancy gave

directions to Madame and explained how she’d figured

out that Roger lived in the new garden complex for

singles. “That’s where the van was heading on the night

Bess and I followed it. Roger must have been taking

my ornaments back to his apartment. When he spotted

us, he turned the tables and started to chase us.”

“But how are we going to figure out which is his

apartment?” Lawrence asked doubtfully. He was in the

passenger seat, holding tight to the door. Madame was

driving as quickly as she could without breaking any

laws.

Nancy told her to take a sharp right, and they turned

into the main street of the complex. As the van slowed,

she studied all the entrances carefully. “If I’m

remembering correctly, the van pulled out of this drive

and began to tail us.” She pointed to the second

entrance on the left.

Just then, Madame hit the steering wheel with the

palm of her hand. “A blue foreign thing!” she declared.

“Huh?” Lawrence swung around. “You mean, that’s

what Roger drove?”

Madame nodded emphatically.

“All right!” From the backseat, George gave the

directress a pat on the shoulder.

Madame turned the car into the complex and began

to cruise alongside the line of parked vehicles. The

road curved in a semicircle in front of the four

apartment buildings. Nancy counted four small blue

cars.

“Now what?” George asked in a gloomy voice. “We

can’t knock on every door.”

“Pointy-toed shoes,” Nancy reminded her friend as

she swung the car into a parking spot.

“Would you mind speaking English?” Lawrence

said.

Nancy opened the van door. “We need to look for