The Mystery of the 99 Steps (6 page)

“I can show you which apartment it is,” the concierge replied. “But I cannot admit you because a young man and his wife occupy it now.”

As he led the way up the stairs, Nancy moved backward to the front door. Then, as she walked forward again, she began to count. It took her ten steps to the stairway. She added each tread as the group climbed. On the second floor there were ten steps to the next stairway. The concierge went on up, and Nancy continued to count. When they reached the top, she found there were 69 steps in the two stairways.

“Maybe—just maybe—” Nancy told herself.

Would there be ten steps to the Aubert apartment? There were. The total was 99!

“But now that I have the information, how can I use it?” Nancy thought. “The number may have been a signal between Louis and Claude or between Claude and some pals of his to meet here in connection with his forgeries. But where does it fit in with Mrs. Blair’s dream?”

Meanwhile, the Drews and their companions had pretended to gaze with interest at the apartment door, then returned to the front entrance. Mr. Drew thanked the concierge, hailed a taxi, and the callers went back to their hotel.

“I have a surprise for you girls this evening,” said Mr. Drew. “We’re invited to a soirée. It’s being held by friends of mine especially for you girls to meet Monsieur Charles Leblanc and see what you can learn.”

“It sounds wonderful!” Bess remarked.

The lawyer turned to his daughter and smiled. “If you can get as much information from Monsieur Leblanc as you did from the policeman and the concierge, I’ll buy you a special gift from Paris!”

Nancy laughed. “I’ll do my best to win it!”

After tea and a short rest, Mr. Drew and the girls dressed in evening clothes and taxied to a beautiful mansion near the Bois de Boulogne Park. The large stone building had several steps leading up to a massive carved doorway. The house was brilliantly lighted, and strains of music from inside floated to the ears of the arriving

guests.

“How divine!” Bess murmured.

Mr. Drew alighted first. He was just helping Nancy out when a car came up behind their taxi, and without braking, smashed into it. Despite her father’s efforts to save Nancy, she was knocked off-balance and thrown full force to the pavement!

 

 

 

THE impact snapped Bess and George against the rear seat of the taxi, then bounced them onto the floor. The driver was also jolted, although less severely.

A stream of furious French issued from his lips and he scrambled out, shaking his fist. But the car responsible for the crash had quickly backed up, then roared off down the street before anyone could get the license number.

By this time Mr. Drew had gently helped Nancy to her feet and the taximan assisted Bess and George from the car. Although badly shaken, the cousins’ first concern was for Nancy.

“Are you hurt?” they asked.

At first she did not answer. The breath had been knocked from her and she had fallen heavily on one shoulder. Nancy admitted it hurt.

“Nothing’s broken, though. I’ll be all right. How about you girls?”

“Okay,” George said gamely, rubbing the back of her neck. “We’re lucky.”

Mr. Drew was greatly concerned for his daughter and her friends. “We’d better give up the party and go back to our hotel.”

“Oh, no!” Nancy insisted. “I just wish we’d seen the person who crashed into us. It was certainly deliberate!”

Grim-faced, her father agreed. No one had caught even a glimpse of the culprit. Mr. Drew paid their fare and the banged-up taxi rattled off.

The door of the mansion had opened and the doorman, who evidently had heard the crash, came hurrying down the steps. Upon learning that Mr. Drew and the girls had an invitation to the soiree, he said quickly:

“I will take you to bedrooms so that you can refresh yourselves.” When he saw Nancy rubbing one shoulder, he told her there was a doctor at the party. “I will send him upstairs.”

Nancy protested, but the doorman was insistent. “I know Monsieur Tremaine—your host —would want me to do that.”

He escorted the American guests to elegantly furnished bedrooms on the second floor. Heavily carved furniture was set off by velvet flower-patterned rugs and large tapestries which hung on the walls. The one in the girls’ room showed a hunting scene with women seated sidesaddle on their horses. The costumes made the girls smile. The women wore bodiced dresses with long skirts and large hats with plumes.

“I wonder if those women ever really did any riding or whether they just sat on the horses and posed,” Bess remarked.

A few moments later the doorman brought in the physician and introduced him. He was very gracious and seemed glad that Nancy and the others spoke French, since he said he spoke little English. He examined her shoulder thoroughly and reported that it was neither broken nor strained.

“But you have a bad bruise. I suggest that an ice pack be put on it at once and that you get some rest.”

Then the doctor examined Bess and George. He seemed pleased that their injuries were minor and prescribed ice packs for the bruises.

Mr. Drew summoned a maid, who quickly brought some ice. The girls lost no time in applying it.

Presently Nancy declared, “I feel all right now. Let’s go down to the party.”

Bess helped her put on fresh make-up and combed her hair. George brushed the dirt off Nancy’s dress and used some water to remove a couple of spots.

“Thanks a million, girls,” she said. “All set?”

With a smile Mr. Drew gave Nancy his arm and they led the way downstairs. News of the accident had spread among the guests and many had gathered in the reception room to meet the new-comers. Beyond, the girls could see a ballroom gleaming with crystal chandeliers.

Monsieur and Madame Tremaine were very solicitous, but Nancy and the cousins assured them they felt fine. “We are grateful to you for inviting us to the soirée,” Nancy added, not revealing she knew why the party was being given.

“I should like to introduce you to some of our other guests,” Madame Tremaine said.

After she had presented them to various friends, she escorted the four Americans into the ballroom where Monsieur Leblanc was standing, and introduced them. A tall slender man with iron-gray hair and mustache, he spoke English fluently.

Nancy thought, “He is handsome and has a charming smile.”

“Mr. Drew,” said the financier, “you are fortunate to have such a lovely daughter.” His eyes beamed with admiration as he looked at Nancy. Then, turning, he smiled at Bess and George.

“Ah! We Frenchmen pride ourselves on the good-looking women in this country, Mr. Drew, but if Mesdemoiselles Drew, Fayne, and Marvin are examples of the young women in America, perhaps our women have to take second place,
non?”

Nancy, Bess, and George as well as Mr. Drew carried on the banter. Then Nancy adroitly brought the conversation around to another subject with the question, “You are alone this evening, Monsieur Leblanc?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied. “Madame Leblanc is at our house in the country. She did not feel well enough to attend.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Nancy. “I would have liked to meet her.”

She had the feeling he might have invited the group to do so, but at that moment they were interrupted by an announcement from the leader of a small string orchestra. He introduced a young woman soprano who had just joined the Paris Opera Company. The listeners were spellbound by her clear silvery voice, and after she had finished two solos, the applause was thunderous.

Directly afterward, Monsieur Leblanc murmured
“Pardon”
to the girls and Mr. Drew, and went off. The young opera singer graciously gave an encore, then said she must leave.

As the orchestra resumed playing, Nancy, Bess, and George began to talk in subdued tones to Mr. Drew about Monsieur Leblanc. “He seemed attentive to the music,” Nancy remarked, “but I did notice that once in a while during the singing he had a faraway look in his eyes.”

Bess said dramatically, “Maybe he’s been hypnotized and is being coerced into selling his securities!”

“At any rate,” George declared emphatically, “I have a hunch it won’t be easy to get information out of him!”

Mr. Drew nodded. “I’ve already learned that. But I really think you girls may have better luck.”

Some of the guests they had already met began introducing the River Heights group to others. Two debonair young men asked Bess and George to dance. Another young man was just making his way toward Nancy when Monsieur Leblanc returned.

Bowing low, he said, “May I have the pleasure?”

Nancy did not want to dance—her shoulder was aching—but she felt she should not miss this opportunity to talk with the financier. As they circled the floor of the ballroom, he began to query her about her trip to France. Instantly she wondered if he suspected something, but if he did, Leblanc gave no evidence of it.

She said, “Whenever Dad’s away from home he misses me very much. My mother died when I was a child and he and I have always been close pals. He asked me to join him here. Bess and George often go on trips with me.”

“I wish,” Leblanc said, “that I might have the honor of showing you and your friends around. But I am very busy and unfortunately have little time to myself.”

When the music stopped, the Frenchman escorted Nancy to a chair, then excused himself. A few minutes later George made her way to Nancy’s side, saying:

“I have something terribly important to tell you. I told my partner I’d be back in a few minutes. See that man in Arabian dress standing in the doorway?”

When Nancy nodded, George went on, “Well, what do you think of this? After Monsieur Leblanc left you, I heard him say to the Arab—in the doorway to the palm garden, where I was—‘I told you not to come here, or anywhere else, unless we were alone!’ ”

Nancy sat straight. “Go on!” she urged.

“The Arab replied, ‘But 9 is coming up. You must meet me.’ ”

“This is exciting!” Nancy remarked. “What else happened?”

“Monsieur Leblanc answered, ‘Tomorrow—99.’ Then the men separated.”

“Ninety-nine!” Nancy echoed softly, her eyes lighting up. “I’d like to follow the Arab!”

At that moment Mr. Drew walked over and Nancy repeated what George had told her. He too was extremely interested, but said he would not permit Nancy to do any more sleuthing that evening.

“Don’t forget you were banged up a while ago. You must get back to the hotel and go to bed. I’ll make a bargain with you, though. Tomorrow we’ll follow Monsieur Leblanc.”

“All right, Dad. Now, may I make a bargain with you?”

He smiled. “What is it?”

“I’d like to shadow the Arab here just for a few minutes and see what I can find out. Please!”

Mr. Drew agreed to give his daughter twenty minutes. “Be very careful,” he warned her. “We don’t want anyone becoming suspicious.”

Just then a young man, Henri Durant, came up and asked Nancy to dance. She accepted and as the music started he led her onto the floor. The young sleuth glanced about as casually as possible. Suddenly her gaze fixed on the far end of the ballroom which opened onto the indoor garden with palm trees and exotic plants. She spotted the Arab in the garden!

An idea quickly came to Nancy. “I hope it works!” she thought.

As they moved along to a lively tune, Henri complimented Nancy not only on her dancing but also on her ability to speak French so well.

Nancy laughed. “You dance very well yourself.” Then, seconds later, she said, “Would you mind going into the garden and sitting out the rest of this dance? My shoulder is aching.”

Henri was most solicitous and at once led her to a bench in the heavy foliaged garden. At first she could not see the Arab. Then suddenly she spotted him among the palms. He was staring intently at her!

Did he know who Nancy was? Had he guessed that she was trying to solve the mystery of the 99 steps? Was this man a new enemy of hers?

Turning to her companion, Nancy asked, “Do you know who that Arab is?”

“No, but I’ll be glad to find out,” Henri answered.

He arose and started toward the man. But instantly the stranger turned and hurried off to the far end of the garden where there was another entrance into the ballroom.

Nancy caught up to Henri, thinking, “That Arab certainly acts suspiciously. I mustn’t let him get away without finding out who he is!” Smiling, Nancy said to Henri, “I want to speak to that Arabian man and I thought he might be leaving.”

This seemed to satisfy Henri and he accompanied her to the edge of the dance floor. Nancy caught sight of the Arab’s turban as he disappeared out the doorway which led to the hall. She and Henri made their way through the crowd of dancers as fast as they could.

By the time they reached the hall, however, the Arab was going out the front door. Apparently he had not bothered to say good night to the Tremaines. Hurrying to the doorman, Nancy asked him who the stranger was.

“I do not know the gentleman,” he replied. “He had a proper invitation, so of course I admitted him.”

“I must speak to Monsieur!” said Nancy, and the servant opened the door.

She ran outside and from the top of the long flight of steps gazed up and down. The Arab was striding quickly toward a small, dark car parked up the street. There was a driver at the wheel and the motor was running.

“Come on, Henri!” Nancy urged.

 

 

 

TOGETHER, Nancy and Henri dashed down the steps of the Tremaine mansion. By this time the mysterious Arab had jumped into the automobile. The driver pulled away and the car shot forward.