The Secret of the Golden Pavillion (6 page)

“Are you stopping over at Los Angeles?”

“Yes, we are,” replied Nancy. “For several hours in fact. We’re taking the night plane across the Pacific.”

“If you have no plans,” said the young woman, who had introduced herself as Sue Rossiter, “I have a suggestion of something interesting you might do—watch a movie being filmed. First, I should tell you that I’m an actress. The Bramley studio, where I work, is about to start filming a picture. It’s a fantasy. I play the lead, a mermaid off Waikiki Beach.”

“What an interesting part!” remarked Nancy, smiling.

Sue Rossiter went on to say that the interior scenes for the picture would be made in the studio. “But the outdoor scenes,” she added, “are actually going to be shot at Waikiki.”

To Nancy’s disappointment, she learned that the movie company would not make the Hawaiian trip for some time. By then the visitors from River Heights probably would have left the Islands.

But the actress said, “Why don’t you come to the studio? I’ll see that you have passes.”

“We’d love to,” said Nancy. She glanced intently at her seatmate for a moment, then added, “Isn’t your stage name Fran Johnson?”

The young woman laughed and nodded. “I’ll be expecting you at the studio.”

When the plane reached Los Angeles, the actress was met by a young man and driven off at once. After Hannah Gruen and the three girls had checked their baggage on the Honolulu plane, Nancy wired Ned to inform him which flight they were taking. Then the four took a taxi to the Bramley studio. They had not gone far on the boulevard when Bess, looking out the rear window, insisted that they were being followed.

“How can you tell in this heavy traffic?” George chided her cousin from the front seat.

Nancy had already glanced back too. “Bess could be right,” she said, and leaned forward to tell the driver their suspicions. “Would it be possible for you to throw the car behind us off our trail?” she asked.

“Why sure, miss,” the driver replied. With a broad grin, he added, “We’ve got to protect our visitors.”

The taximan had no trouble eluding the car. He took a circuitous route, but finally pulled up in front of the Bramley studio. Fran Johnson was waiting for them at the door. “Hurry!” she urged. “The author of the script is going to explain a legend in it to a group of company executives. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

She led the way into a small auditorium, motioned the girls to seats, and then left them. A young man, standing before a seated group, was saying:

“How much is fact and how much is legend we do not know. But it’s said that the first inhabitants of the Hawaiian Islands were Polynesians who came from other Pacific islands, particularly Tahiti. They landed from enormous outrigger canoes. Their favorite landing spot was Waikiki Beach. They preferred to come in on the surf in their shallow canoes rather than land in calmer waters. That is why we have chosen this beach for our story. It takes place about a thousand years ago. And now, ladies and gentlemen, suppose we proceed directly with the rehearsal.”

Nancy and her friends followed the others through the building to a large sound stage. Warning signs for absolute silence were posted in several places. Great ceiling lights, manipulated by men on high platforms, flooded the scene. Cameramen seated on small trucks carrying their equipment dollied back and forth for proper shots.

Nancy, Bess, George, and Hannah took seats in a row behind the chairs where the director, the author, and two executives had sat down. The first scene to be shot was laid just outside an ancient thatch-roofed hut. A young Polynesian actor stepped from the doorway and listened intently.

“That strange sound on the water again,” he said softly.

At that moment the great light focused directly on him went out and someone called, “Cut!”

While waiting for the light to be repaired, the young actor walked over toward the director. Fran Johnson approached Nancy and was just about to speak to her when their attention was diverted to a great boom carrying a workman. Apparently he was an electrician. The boom swung toward the light which had gone out. As everyone looked upward, the heavy steel arm suddenly hit another huge light.

There was a resounding crash and a shower of glass came down toward those below!

THE studio visitors made a mad scramble for safety. Chairs were overturned and electric cords tripped over as Nancy and the others scurried in every direction. They were not a second too soon. Pieces of glass and metal crashed to the floor and sprayed out for several feet.

“O-o-oh!” Bess cried, catching her breath. “Let’s go before something else happens.”

“Oh, don’t be a sissy,” George spoke up. “I want to see some more filming.”

But George’s desire was not to be fulfilled. The actors and actresses had had such a fright that all of them declared they could not work any more that day. The director acceded to their wishes, and postponed the rehearsal to the next day.

Fran Johnson came to say good-by to the girls. “I’m dreadfully sorry about what happened, but you’ll soon see Waikiki Beach for real and you’ll find plenty of thatch-roofed huts on the Islands.”

Nancy smiled. “And when the picture is released, we’ll certainly go to see it.”

They thanked Fran for inviting them to the studio, then, with Hannah, took a taxi to the airport. Upon arriving there, Nancy glanced at her watch. “We have lots of time. I think I’ll call Dad and find out out how he is.”

While the others waited, she went to a telephone booth and put in a person-to-person call to Mr. Drew at the River Heights General Hospital. Presently she was told by the operator that Mr. Drew was not there, so she gave the number of his club. A few moments later her father answered.

“Good to hear from you, Nancy,” he said cheerfully. “I know you’re going to ask me why I’m not in the hospital. Well, the truth is, the doctor has discharged me. I’m feeling fine. He won’t let me start the trip for a couple of days, though. I promised to stay right here and rest.”

Nancy laughed. “I know you, Dad. You’ll rest by staying on the telephone talking to clients or writing briefs.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to die of lonesomeness without you, would you?” Mr. Drew teased. Then he became serious. “Nancy, I have some good news for you. That scrap of tweed cloth you found in my office proved to be a valuable clue. The police have nabbed the hoodlum who attacked me.”

“Oh, how wonderfull” Nancy exclaimed. “Who was he?”

“The man belongs to the same gang of hoodlums as the ladder snatcher, who is under arrest. This fellow was also hired by O’Keefe to cause trouble.”

Nancy asked her father if there was any report on O‘Keefe himself. “Yes. The man who knocked me out corroborated the other fellow’s story. O’Keefe has skipped town. This second prisoner says he has left the U. S. mainland.”

“For the Hawaiian Islands?” Nancy asked.

“No one knows. He did not divulge his destination,” the lawyer replied. “The hoodlum said that O‘Keefe was a collector of old jewelry and other small antique pieces. Apparently he ‘collects’ them without paying for them.” Mr. Drew laughed softly. “O’Keefe told the hoodlum that he had a special market for the pieces, but he didn’t say what it was.”

Father and daughter chatted a few minutes longer. Both felt sure O‘Keefe had stolen Mr. Milbank’s ring. Then, with an affectionate “See you soon, Dad,” Nancy hung up. She rejoined her friends who were amazed to hear the latest news about O’Keefe.

Hannah Gruen frowned. “I have a dreadful feeling that man is going to make more trouble for all of us,” she said. “I don’t know that as a chaperon I can cope with the situation properly.”

Nancy patted the housekeeper on the shoulder. “Please don’t worry, Hannah,” she begged. “You know all of us have been in tight spots before. We can handle this one!” she stated confidently.

A short time later the travelers boarded the overseas plane. Their seats were on opposite sides of the aisle but directly across from one another. Soon the fascinating Los Angeles sky line was receding in the distance. When darkness came, Hannah and the girls stretched out for a night’s sleep.

They awakened to a gorgeous sunrise which followed them for a long time. Finally the Hawaiian Islands came into view. Up above them floated rose-tinted clouds and here and there the travelers could see a mountain peak. Below, palm trees waved in the gentle morning breeze.

The great plane landed smoothly. Nancy and her friends stepped out, and began looking around for Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong. How could they ever find them, they wondered, in the mass of people awaiting the visitors? The arms of men and women were laden with colorful flower leis.

As the girls went through the gate, a smiling couple walked up to Nancy. “Are you Nancy Drew?” the woman asked pleasantly.

“Yes, I am. And you must be Mrs. Armstrong.”

The woman nodded as Mr. Armstrong introduced himself. At the same time the couple began slipping leis over the shoulders of the River Heights group. For Nancy there was one of white gardenias, a favorite flower of hers.

“Thank you so very much,” she said. “This is a wonderful greeting!”

There was no chance for any further conversation, for at that moment three young men rushed up to the girls.

“Ned!” cried Nancy, as her tall, dark-haired handsome friend came toward her.

“Burt!” George called to the blond, husky youth.

“Dave!” exclaimed Bess in delight, looking up at the rangily-built, green-eyed young man.

The Emerson boys’ arms also held leis which they dropped around the girls’ necks with quick kisses. Nancy’s lei was made of pale-pink plumiera, George’s of baby anthuriums, and Bess’s of orchids and carnations.

Warm greetings were exchanged and Nancy introduced the Armstrongs. As the group walked into the airport building to claim the travelers’ luggage, Bess insisted that they were being followed.

“Not again!” George wailed.

Bess was adamant. “I just know those two men I saw looking at us are members of the Double Scorps,” she whispered to Nancy. “They’ve gone now.”

Ned overheard the remark and wanted to know what she meant by Double Scorps. Nancy explained quickly, adding that Bess might be right.

“Then we’re going to throw those snoopers off the trail!” Ned declared. “Suppose we all go to the Halekulani where we fellows are staying. We’ll have a swim and maybe a sail. Those Scorps will think you’ve changed your plans. Later on we’ll drive out to Kaluakua.”

Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong were agreeable to this plan and the whole group piled into their big sedan. As the travelers rode through the city of Honolulu, they were intrigued with the hustle and bustle of the modern capital of the Islands. Streams of people poured into tall office buildings and department stores. Here and there, palm trees, waving in the soft breeze, shaded the sidewalks from the tropical sun.

Presently, Mr. Armstrong stopped the car and pointed to the dark-colored statue of a man atop a high, square pedestal. “That is a likeness of King Kamehameha, first king of all the Hawaiian Islands. Before that, each island had its own king.”

Mr. Armstrong led the group to Iolani Palace nearby. Smiling, he said, “You know, this is the only palace in the United States.”

As they went inside the cool, stately, highceilinged building, he explained that parts of the palace were now used by the legislative branch of the government.

“But the throne room looks exactly as it did many years ago, although the throne and the chairs on either side of it are replicas. The originals are in the Bishop Museum.”

The visitors gazed at the beautiful paintings and draperies, conjuring up in their minds the grandeur of a bygone day when King Kamehameha had been seated on the throne in a gorgeous feather robe and headgear.

“And now I think we had better go,” said Mr. Armstrong, and led the way back to his car.

A little while later they came to the Waikiki Beach area of Honolulu and turned into the driveway of an attractive garden which formed the grounds of the Halekulani Hotel.

They parked in front of the main building and Ned ran in to the office to ask for another room for the boys to use that day. They had insisted that the girls use their private apartment in one of the cottages with its lovely
lanai.

Small suitcases belonging to Nancy, Bess, and George were carried to the first-floor apartment on the shady, flower-shrubbed grounds.

“We’ll meet you girls on the beach in fifteen minutes,” Ned said as the boys left them.

The girls changed to bathing suits, then went to the front of the hotel which faced the ocean. Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong and Hannah Gruen were seated on the tree-shaded terrace. Three feet below them stretched the white, sandy beach.

“How absolutely heavenly!” Bess exclaimed.

Mrs. Armstrong warned the girls that the tropi cal sunshine was very intense. She handed Nancy a bottle of suntan lotion and advised, “Better cover yourselves with this.”

Nancy and her friends had just finished spraying themselves with the lotion when Ned, Burt, and Dave appeared. As they walked down to the water the visitors were fascinated by the surf-board riders a little distance away and by the twin-hulled sailboats with their gay-colored sails.

“I want you girls to go out in one of those catamarans,” said Ned. “But let’s swim first.”

The six young people thoroughly enjoyed diving through the waves, swimming out a distance, and riding back in on the combers. Presently a catamaran with a red mainsail and a yellow jib pulled into the beach.

Ned spoke to the man at the tiller and the group climbed aboard. They sailed about half a mile out, then turned toward Diamond Head. From this vantage point, the mainlanders could get a fine view of Waikiki Beach, with its sky-scraper hotels, beautiful gardens, and fine homes.