The Secret in the Old Lace (13 page)

“Who is Madame Chambray?” the fellow asked, puzzled. “And why on earth would she want to meet me?”

“She owns the Vonderlicht house now,” Bess pointed out. “Shortly after she moved in, she found a beautiful antique cross wrapped in a piece of cloth that bore the name Antoinette Tissot—your great-grandmother.”

“I think you folks have me mixed up with somebody. My great-grandmother’s name wasn’t Tissot. It was Warrington—Elaine Warrington.”

Prompted to reveal the romantic story of Antoinette and François, George told how they moved to Brugge and changed their names.

“And they lived happily ever after,” Bess finished.

“There’s one small problem,” Nancy put in soberly. “The diamond cross was stolen. But I have a hunch you can help us get it back!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Nancy. I’m not much on catching crooks,” Cody said. “On second thought, though, maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. I might get an acting part someday as a detective.”

“Then you’ll go to the house with us?” Nancy asked. “It’s not very far from here.”

She noticed that the young woman with whom she had seen him on the previous occasion was not in the store.

“Okay,” Cody said, “but I’d like to call my hotel first. I have a date with somebody. Can she come along?”

Nancy hesitated, uncertain of the danger that might lay ahead of them. “Why don’t you suggest meeting your friend a little later? You can call her from the house,” Nancy said.

“I don’t know how that’ll set with her,” the man said, “but I’ll tell her.”

By now, a haze of twilight covered the town, and there was a forbidding stillness in the air as the group reached the old stone house. To their surprise only one or two of the lamps were lit.

“Somebody’s inside,” Nancy said, seeing the outline of a man’s head in the window.

“Should we knock?” Bess asked fearfully.

“No,” Nancy replied, “we might scare off Madame Chambray’s visitor.”

She turned the door handle slowly, hoping it was not locked. The door clicked open. Signaling everyone to remain quiet, Nancy tiptoed inside. A murmur of words and laughter drifted into the hallway.

“Oh, Monsieur, I am so pleased to meet you at last,” Madame Chambray was saying. “But, to tell the truth, I am very troubled.”

“How could such a lovely lady be so troubled?” The man’s voice oozed sweetly. It sounded vaguely familiar. “You know my grandfather had terrible troubles—romantic ones mostly. Women pursued him constantly. One girl from Brussels in particular literally forced him to move here to Brugge. She was simply too ardent.”

“But,” Madame Chambray said, “didn’t he marry her?”

“Oh, no. He met somebody else.”

Nancy’s thoughts now fell clearly into place. That man was telling the story she had entered in the magazine contest! He was either Paul Frieden or André Bergère! She paused long enough for Bess to tug on her arm.

“I heard something upstairs,” Bess whispered.

Was there another intruder in the house—a partner perhaps of the man seated inside? the girls wondered.

“What should we do?” George asked.

“You and Bess check the top floors while I introduce Cody to Madame Chambray,” Nancy said.

Cautiously, Bess and George tiptoed to the second floor while the Texan trailed Nancy into the living room. The visitor was hidden from view in a high-backed chair.

“Excuse me, Madame Chambray,” Nancy said politely, “but I’d like you to meet the great-grandson of François Lefèvre—”

“That’s impossible!” the other man spouted angrily. He rose to his feet and turned sharply toward Nancy.

He was tall and slender, with a narrow face, thin lips, and a pallid complexion.

“Mr. Rocke!” Nancy cried out.

Furious, the man bolted past the girl, shoving her aside. “I don’t know you,” he growled.

“Grab him, Cody!” Nancy cried, but the agile impostor slipped out of the cowboy’s reach.

He tripped on the carpet, causing a small, glittering object to fall out of his pocket. “It’s the diamond cross!” Madame Chambray shouted.

Before Rocke could retrieve it, however, Nancy dived for it. He flew through the hallway, out the door, and down the steps to a waiting boat. Before Nancy or Cody Vaughan could catch him, he sped away.

“That’s the last of Mr. Ghost,” Nancy said, noticing the man’s boots. “The only time he didn’t wear those boots was when he followed us to the
Gruuthuse
and stole the lace!”

At once, the girl called the authorities and described Rocke and the boat he had escaped in. “He went up the canal in an easterly direction,” she added.

“We’ll look for him at once,” the officer on duty promised. “We will also alert the airport. In case he tries to leave the country, his passport will be flagged down.”

Bess and George, in the meantime, were unaware of what had occurred below. Nothing was out of order on the second floor so they climbed to the third.

“I definitely heard something,” Bess said, “and it’s too far for mice to climb.”

She and her cousin poised themselves outside the attic panel, then slowly slid it open. Except for the soft glow of streetlamps that traveled through the skylight, the room was completely dark.

“Stick close,” George whispered.

“Don’t worry.” Bess shivered, beaming her flashlight toward the trunk and boxes.

“If someone was here,” George observed, “I’m sure he left.” A chair stood under the skylight. “And that’s how he went.”

As she swung her light to another corner, Bess noticed an antique bureau. All the drawers had been pulled out, revealing lace-trimmed garments and lots of books that resembled the leather-bound diary in the trunk.

“I don’t recall that we ever opened those drawers,” George said. “They don’t have handles so we probably didn’t realize they were drawers. The intruder must have pried them open.”

“What about François’s red jacket and the lace cuffs?” Bess murmured. “I wonder if they were stolen?”

She hurried to the box near the trunk. The jacket was still there but the cuffs were gone! Obviously, the thief had mistaken them for the ones containing the secret message!

Suddenly the girls sensed that someone was behind them. Indeed, the hunched figure of a man was shuffling toward them, ready to pounce. In his hands were the missing lace cuffs.

“Help!” Bess cried aloud, as George gathered up all her courage and lunged toward the man.

Help, however, was on the way for the two terrified girls. Nancy and Cody leaped into the room, tackling the intruder. They pushed him to the floor within seconds.

“Let go of me!” he bellowed angrily.

“Not until the police come,” Cody said, twisting the man’s arm out flat.

“You’re André Bergère, aren’t you?” Nancy accused him, recognizing his face and sleek black hair. “I suppose Paul Frieden is around here as well. ”

Their captive laughed bitterly. Then, thinking he had everything under control, Cody loosened his grip a bit. Bergère took advantage of the movement, punching Cody in the ribs.

“Ow!” the Texan sputtered, allowing the prisoner to free himself in a sudden quick turn.

Nancy, however, grabbed his arm while George hooked another one, ready to heave him in a judo flip!

 

 

 

Once again Cody joined the struggle, weakening their prisoner at last.

“Quick, call the police, Bess!” Nancy told the girl.

“Oh, don’t do that! I beg you!” the man pleaded in exhaustion as Bess ran downstairs. His arms sank limply in those of his captors. “Just let me sit down a minute.”

“Don’t you try anything funny,” Cody warned.

“I won‘t, I promise I won’t,” The intruder gulped for air. “What do you want to know?”

“Are you or are you not André Bergère?” Nancy questioned. Nervously he ran his bony fingers through his sleek black hair.

“I am and—”

“And what?” Nancy prodded.

“And Paul Frieden.”

“What!” She stared at him in surprise. “You mean, Frieden is only a fictitious character?”

Bergère nodded.

“So when Rocke intercepted my manuscript,” Nancy continued, “he passed it on to
you!”

Bergère shrugged. “We’re friends.”

“Was the contest prize worth so much to you that you decided to plagiarize my story and submit it yourself?” Nancy asked, feeling a twinge of disgust for the man.

“We knew there was an unsolved mystery in Brugge, that’s why we ran the contest,” Bergère grumbled. “We figured if Miller accused
you
of plagiarism, you’d stick around New York until you convinced him otherwise. Meanwhile, we could come here and search for the treasure mentioned in the letter.”

George chuckled. “You must have been surprised when you found out from Rocke that Nancy was going ahead with her travel plans.”

“So you waited for me to arrive at the airport and then stole my luggage!” Nancy added.

“No. That was Rocke,” Bergère protested. “He borrowed an airport worker’s jacket so he could get past the guards with your bag.”

“He wanted to stall me in Brussels for a while,” Nancy said, “but when that didn’t work out the way he planned, he decided to scare us. Rocke played ghost in Madame Chambray’s house—”

“I also kept close watch on everything you did,” the prisoner interrupted with a self-congratulatory smile. “I watched you in the garden and through the skylight and—”

“How did Rocke ever get the key to the tunnel?” Nancy went on.

“The first time he went there the door was open and the key was inside,” Bergère replied. “He had a duplicate made.”

“Once Rocke came when the door was locked from the inside,” Nancy said, remembering the time she had left the key in the lock.

“He pushed it out with a stick, then used his duplicate,” Bergère said. “These locks aren’t hard to tamper with.”

“Did Rocke have fun riding in the procession?” George asked. “You didn’t really think that dagger trick would frighten us, did you?”

Bergère shrugged. “We were desperate. Unfortunately, nothing worked. You girls spoiled everything!”

Just then Madame Chambray and Bess appeared in the doorway with two policemen.

“Here’s the man who sent you that threatening letter!” George piped up. “Or are you going to blame that on Rocke, too, Mr. Bergère?”

“No, I did it. But it was his idea.”

The officers stepped up to handcuff him.

“You can’t do anything to me!” Bergère shouted. “I’m an American citizen!”

“But you have committed a serious crime in our country,” one of the policemen told him. “We shall arrest you and try you for theft!” With that they led him away.

Madame Chambray, meanwhile, went over to Cody and kissed him on both cheeks.

“I am so pleased to meet you,” she said warmly. “I have something that belongs to you—or rather Nancy does.”

The girl detective pulled the diamond and lapis lazuli cross from her skirt pocket and folded it into the Texan’s hand.

“Too bad Rocke didn’t drop the linen wrapping,” Madame Chambray murmured. “It said, ‘God protect you wherever you go.’ ”

Cody gazed at the gleaming cross. “Oh, but I can’t keep this,” he finally said. “You deserve it more than I do.”

“Don’t be silly,” Nancy replied. “It was meant to bring luck to the Vonderlicht family.”

“I know you have a date,” George interrupted, “but—uh—”

Seeing the glint of interest in her cousin’s face, Bess turned to Cody. “Our search isn’t over yet, you know. We’re still hunting for the treasure François—I mean Friedrich—mentioned in his will. Please stay. After all, whatever we find most likely belongs to you.”

Cody smiled boyishly at George, who shifted her gaze in embarrassment. “Where should we start?” he asked.

“How would you like an old birdcage?” Bess giggled and darted behind the silk screen.

“Now I’ll have to buy a bird.” The cowboy laughed when he saw the cage.

Nancy stared at it openmouthed. It was a magnificent birdcage, and beneath years of tarnish was gold!

“I’m positive this is the geometric figure represented in the lace cuff!” the girl detective exclaimed.

“You think so?” Bess asked in amazement. “That never occurred to me.”

Suddenly aware that the ceiling beams crossed to form open triangles like the other pattern in the cuff, Nancy scanned them slowly.

“Look!” she cried, pointing to a broken hook in one of the beams. “That’s where the cage used to hang. I’m sure it was a marker of some sort.”

“Here,” George said, handing Nancy a chair which she placed directly under the beam and climbed up on.

“The cage must’ve fallen years ago,” Nancy surmised. She pulled on the hook, finding it loose but unwilling to budge. Disappointed, she started to step down from the old chair, when suddenly one of the legs gave way. Nancy grabbed for the hook, desperate to find something to help her regain her balance. The small section of wood tore away from the ceiling, and Nancy toppled to the floor while the onlookers attempted to break her fall. As they bent down to help Nancy to her feet, Bess noticed a ruby-studded pin and necklace on the floor. Looking up at the hole, Bess exclaimed, “François’s fortune!”