Read The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
we still thought we should’ve had the lead roles.” Bess
slid the soldier uniform back with the others. “Yeah,
but this seems different. Madame’s so nervous it’s
affecting everyone.”
“How’s Shana taking all of this?” George asked. “She
did come all the way from New York for the
production.”
“I don’t know if Shana has any idea of what’s going
on,” Bess said, taking her coat from the back of a chair.
But I do know she wants to see you both.”
“Great,” George said.
“Let me buy a ticket to the gala, then we can find
Shana and say hello,” Nancy suggested.
“Good idea,” Bess said.
The girls headed upstairs, where the hallway was no
longer empty. This time, several older boys and girls
dressed in sweats and leotards were limbering up
before the next class.
When Nancy, George, and Bess reached Madame
Dugrand’s office, the door was open. Looking over
Bess’s shoulder, Nancy noticed that the small area was
filled with file folders and papers. Madame Dugrand, a
slim, attractive woman in her early fifties, was sitting in
a swivel chair behind an old-fashioned rolltop desk.
The desk was cluttered with papers and envelopes, and
to the right of it was a computer on a stand.
Bess knocked on the door frame, and Madame
looked up from an open ledger. When she saw who it
was, she smiled brightly. Nancy thought that despite
her gray hair, Madame hadn’t aged since they’d been
students eight years ago.
“Bess!” the directress exclaimed, standing up. “How
do the costumes look?”
“Great. The Sugar Plum Fairy costume is a work of
art.” Bess stepped into the office, then motioned to
Nancy and George. “I brought two former students to
see you. And one of them wants to buy a gala ticket.”
Madame’s smile widened. “Nancy Drew and George
Fayne! What a pleasant surprise!”
“Nancy’s the one who needs a ticket,” George
explained. “I wish I could go to the gala, too,” she
added quickly, “but I have a party that night after a
cross-country race.”
“You always were athletic,” Madame Dugrand told
her. “And, Nancy, what are you up to these days?”
“She’s only the best teen detective in the world,”
Bess cut in.
Nancy laughed. “Not exactly ‘the best.’ ”
“Well, I’m glad you’ll be able to come to the gala,”
Madame said as she opened her desk drawer and
hunted for the tickets. “As I recall, you three used to
know Shana—”
Suddenly, a high-pitched alarm went off.
Bess jumped nervously. “What’s that?”
In a flash, Madame Dugrand rushed past the girls
and into the hall. “The fire alarm,” she called over her
shoulder.
Following Madame Dugrand into the hallway,
Nancy asked, “Was there a fire drill scheduled for
today?”
No!” Madame exclaimed, breaking into a jog. “This
must be a real fire!”
Old Times, New Crimes
“We have to get the students out of the building right
away!” Madame Dugrand’s voice was frantic.
Nancy knew they had to hurry. A faint whiff of
smoke was already drifting down the hall. Bess and
George were right behind her. “Bess!” Nancy called.
“Phone the fire department. Then run down to the
basement and make sure Mrs. Wolaski heard the fire
alarm.”
With a nod, Bess picked up the office phone. “I’ll
check to see that the locker room is cleared,” George
said, heading through a swinging door.
Nancy and Madame Dugrand raced down the hall
and into the first studio.
An older girl was standing in the center of the room,
a panic-stricken expression on her face. Several kids
were dashing back and forth, squealing loudly.
Madame Dugrand clapped her hands several times.
“Quiet!” she commanded. “Line up behind Miss
Sarah.”
Realizing Madame Dugrand had the situation in
hand, Nancy rushed to the next room. A tall, striking
red-haired woman was waving a dozen girls in leotards
toward the doorway. Nancy realized I lie redhead was
Shana Edwards.
“Class! Get in line!” Shana ordered in a firm voice.
Nancy grabbed two young boys as they attempted to
dash by her and pushed them into the line behind
Shana. “Quickly, you must leave the building!” Nancy
said as she helped herd the group into the hall.
Bess dashed up beside her. “The basement’s empty,”
she gasped. “Mrs. Wolaski must already be outside.”
A girl about nine years old stopped and tugged on
Nancy’s sleeve. “What about our coats?” she asked.
Her hair was the same shade of red as Shana’s. “Can’t
we run into the dressing room for them?”
Bess shook her head. “No, Michelle. We must do
what we did during our drill earlier this week. Now,
hurry and follow your sister.” She gave the girl a gentle
push toward the outside door.
“That’s Shana’s little sister, Michelle,” Bess
whispered to Nancy as they hurried to check the recital
hall. “She’s Clara in The Nutcracker this year.”
Bess helped Nancy open the double doors into the
recital hall. The two of them peered inside. The long
rows of chairs and dark stage looked empty. Nancy
sniffed the air.
“I smell smoke,” she said.
“Then let’s get out of here.” Swinging around, Bess
started toward the hall. For a second, Nancy hesitated.
If she could locate the fire and put it out, it might
prevent damage to the building.
Bess gave Nancy’s arm an urgent tug. “I know what
you’re thinking, Nancy Drew, and don’t you dare. You
leave the fire to the fire fighters.”
“You’re right.” Quickly, Nancy and Bess shut the
doors and jogged down the now empty hall. They met
George at the outside doors. She was ushering the last
of the children down the slippery steps and into the
parking lot.
“Is everybody out?” Madame Dugrand asked from
the sidewalk. She was standing in the middle of a
shivering group of youngsters. The sky was dark with
clouds, and a light snow was beginning to fall.
“Yes,” Nancy called back. The blast of a siren made
her look out into the street. A huge River Heights fire
truck careened into the parking lot.
Racing down the icy sidewalk, Nancy met the first
fireman off the truck.
“We smelled smoke in the recital hall.” She pointed
toward the left side of the building. Waving to the
others, the fireman headed in that direction.
As Nancy walked back to George and Bess, she
scanned the small crowd huddled in front of the dance
school. Shana Edwards was leading two kids toward a
waiting car. Mrs. Wolaski was hobbling down the walk,
holding on to the arm of a blond-haired young man
about twenty years old. Several parents had driven up
in front of the school. Madame Dugrand was
separating their children from the group gathered on
the sidewalk.
“Madame Dugrand,” Nancy called as she strode
across the snow-covered grass, “maybe we should get
the kids into our cars. It’ll be warmer.”
“That’s a good idea, Nancy. Thank you for your
help.”
Just then a woman wearing a purple warm-up suit
pushed past Nancy. A frightened-looking little girl in a
leotard and tights clung to her hand.
“This fire is the last straw, Alicia!” the woman
declared to Madame Dugrand. “I quit. You’ll have to
get someone else to organize the props. And you’ll have
to replace Tiffany, too. I’m pulling her out of The
Nutcracker—and the school.”
With that, the woman spun around, dragging the
unhappy little girl after her.
Madame Dugrand’s face flushed brightly. But she
quickly leaned down to a young boy who was clinging
to her leg. “Here’s something to keep you warm,
Patrick,” she said as she took off her sweater and
wrapped it around his shoulders.
When she straightened, she signaled to the blond-
haired young man with a wave of her hand. “Lawrence!
Unlock the van. We’ll put as many students in it as we
can.”
For the next few minutes, Nancy helped Lawrence,
George, Bess, and Madame get the children settled in
the van and in her Mustang. Several more parents
picked up their kids, so there was room enough for
everyone. Soon only Nancy and Madame Dugrand
were left outside in the snow. Fire fighters were
streaming in and out of the building, but Nancy hadn’t
seen any fire or smelled any more smoke.
“What do you think caused the fire?” Nancy asked.
Shaking her head, Madame wrapped her arms
tighter across her chest. She was looking worriedly
toward the school. Her shoulders were hunched, and a
light sprinkling of snow covered her gray hair. Just
then, the fire chief strode down the steps. Nancy
followed Madame Dugrand as she walked up the
sidewalk to meet him.
“It appears that someone accidentally started a fire,”
the chief said in a stern voice. “Part of your backstage
curtain was burning.” He held up a cigarette enclosed
in a plastic bag. “I suspect it was caused by this.”
Madame gasped. “I do not allow smoking in the
building,” she said indignantly.
The fire chief shrugged. “Someone broke the rules.”
He stuck the bag under his coat, then pulled a pad and
a pen out of his back pocket.
“Actually,” the chief continued, “whoever set the fire
probably did you a favor, Ms. Dugrand. Your building
has several fire violations. Frayed wires, paint-soaked
rags, and an exit blocked with chairs. It’s no wonder the
whole place didn’t go up in flames. This,” he said,
ripping the top sheet from the pad and handing it to
Madame Dugrand, “is a citation. All the items on this
list need to be corrected by next Friday or the fire
department will close you down.”
Madame Dugrand’s face turned ashen as her blue
eyes traveled down the list. “Next Friday is our opening
night,” she said, looking up.
The chief shrugged again. “That’s your problem.
Fires are mine, and I don’t want one here. You can all
go on in now,” he added brusquely. Then he turned to
his crew and yelled, “Let’s pack it up, guys!”
Madame Dugrand didn’t move. Her eyes were
frozen on the citation in her hand.
“We’d better get the kids back into the school,”
Nancy said gently.
With a deep sigh, Madame nodded. Twenty minutes
later, the students who hadn’t been picked up by their
parents were back in class.
“I’m going to take a look at the burned curtain,”
Nancy told Bess and George.
“But the fire chief already checked everything, and
I’m starved,” Bess protested, but Nancy was already
starting down the hall.
“Hey!” a voice called. Nancy turned to see Shana
Edwards coming out of the locker room. She was tall
and slender, wearing a fuchsia leotard and pink tights.
Her red hair was pulled back and tucked into a
chignon, accenting her long neck and straight posture.
“Nancy Drew!” Shana exclaimed, her emerald eyes
sparkling. “I was hoping I’d see you.” Just then she
spotted George. The girls gave each other warm hugs.
“And we were hoping to see the famous Shana
Edwards,” George said, holding her old friend at arm’s
length.
“Too famous to have lunch with some dance school
dropouts?” Bess joked.
“Never,” Shana replied. “I’ve got to work with
Dewdrop and her flowers first, though. They’ve been
having a little trouble with their scene. Would you guys
like to watch? If you can stick around until it’s over, we
can talk then. I’d love to know what everyone in River
Heights has been up to. You know, all the gossip.”
Bess rolled her eyes. “Oh, it’s sooo exciting around
here.”
The girls burst out laughing.
“And we’d love to hear all about New York,” George
added.
“Great.” Shana squeezed Nancy’s hand. “And
thanks, guys, for all the help during the fire alarm.
Whew! What a madhouse.”
“No problem,” Nancy replied. “Listen, I’ve got to
pick up my ticket for the gala, then I’ll meet you guys
in—”
“Studio A,” Shana filled in. Then, linking her arms
with Bess’s and George’s, she hurried them down the
hall.
Nancy continued toward the stage area. She knew