Read The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
As soon as she got home herself, Nancy showered and
changed into her new turquoise party dress and black
patent leather heels.
Half an hour later, Nancy was parking her Mustang
in front of Bess’s house.
“Come in, Nancy,” Mrs. Marvin said as she opened
the door. “Bess is just about ready.”
“I’m totally ready,” Bess said, hurrying down the
stairs in her bright red brocade dress and matching
leather flats.
“When will you girls be home?” Mrs. Marvin asked
as Bess was putting on her coat.
“We shouldn’t be too late,” Bess replied. The girls
said goodbye and headed for Nancy’s car.
“Would you mind stopping off at the dance academy
on the way to the country club, Nancy?” Bess asked. “I
forgot to bring Michelle’s Clara costume home with
me, and I’m supposed to do the hem.”
“Sure,” Nancy said. “We’re a little early, anyway.”
Nancy turned down Mason Street, then pulled into
the dance school’s parking lot. It was dark, and the only
other vehicle in sight was the school van, which was
parked in its usual place at the back of the lot.
“I don’t think anyone’s here,” Nancy said. “How did
you plan to get in?”
“I’ve got a key,” Bess said. She opened her black
evening bag and took it out. “Mrs. Wolaski loaned it to
me yesterday, and I forgot to give it back.”
Nancy pulled the Mustang to the end of the front
sidewalk and parked. Giggling, the two girls held on to
each other as they inched their way up the icy walk to
the school in their dress shoes. Once inside the door,
Nancy was about to turn on the lights when she heard a
noise coming from down the hall.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered to Bess.
Bess nodded. “I sure did!”
“I’m going to check it out. Wait here,” Nancy said,
slipping out of her heels.
“No way,” Bess said, taking off her own party shoes.
“I’m going with you.”
Nancy tiptoed down the shadowy hall in her
stockinged feet. The hall was dimly lit by the weak
glow of an emergency light. Nancy could hear Bess
breathing as she followed just behind her.
Nancy stopped in front of the recital room door and
put a finger to her lips. The girls listened first at the
door to studio A. Then they heard a crash from the
prop room.
Bess jumped. “What was that?” she squealed,
clutching Nancy’s arm. “I think we’d better call the
police.”
Nancy shook her head emphatically. “If we wait for
the police,” she whispered, “whoever it is might get
away.”
Bess grimaced, then nodded reluctantly. Nancy
hurried to the prop room. Slowly, she pushed open the
door and peered inside cautiously. It was pitch black.
Stepping into the room, Nancy felt along the brick
wall for the light switch. Bess was so close behind her
that she kept stepping on Nancy’s heels.
“Grrrr!” A loud growl made Nancy swing around.
Bess screamed as a black shape jumped up from
behind the shadowy sled.
Bess screamed again as the creature lunged for the
door. In the dim light from the hall, Nancy could see it
had a huge head and pointy ears.
“A monster! And it’s coming after us!” Bess cried,
shrinking back against Nancy.
“Stop, whoever you are!” Nancy pushed past Bess,
trying to reach the creature. But her leg hit something
solid and she tumbled over a box. At the same time, the
monster bolted past her and out into the hall.
Bess helped Nancy struggle to her feet. “We can’t
let it get away!” she yelled, but Bess just stood frozen in
fear.
Nancy leaped toward the open door. Wham! It
slammed shut in her face. Quickly, she searched for the
door knob, but then she heard a click. With a sinking
feeling, Nancy turned the knob, then rattled it.
Nothing happened. The door was locked.
She could hear Bess gasp. “Don’t move,” Nancy
whispered to her friend. “I need to find the light.”
Groping along the wall beside the door, Nancy finally
located the light switch. When she flipped it on,
nothing happened. Someone had turned off the power.
Nancy and Bess were locked in a pitch black room!
In the Lair of the Mouse King
“What in the world was that?” Bess finally asked, from
beside Nancy.
“Believe it or not, I think it was the Mouse King,”
Nancy said, looking around. The prop room was so
dark, it was like being in a cave. And because she knew
the floor was littered with junk, she didn’t dare take a
step.
Bess laughed nervously. “The Mouse King? You’re
kidding. Who would be crazy enough to run around in
a seven-headed mouse costume?”
“Someone who didn’t want us to recognize him or
her,” Nancy replied. Mentally, she kicked herself. Like
a dummy, she’d left her purse in the car. That meant
she didn’t have a flashlight or her lock-picking kit. She
hated being so unprepared.
Bess let out her breath. “Well, I guess knowing that
it was just a person wearing a costume makes me feel
better.”
Nancy gave a low chuckle. “At least something’s
making you feel better. Since we’re locked in and the
power is off, we may be in for a long night.”
“It’s a good thing we wore our coats. Hey, wait a
minute. Aren’t there two doors to this room?” Bess
asked in a hopeful voice.
“You’re right! How could I have forgotten that?”
Nancy turned toward where she thought the backstage
door was, but the total darkness was disorienting. “This
place could be booby-trapped,” she added,
remembering how the nutcracker doll had nearly fallen
on George’s head. “Maybe the Mouse King was in here
rigging up another surprise.”
“Oh, great.” Bess groaned.
Nancy was trying to decide what to do next when
Bess suddenly grabbed her arm. “Nancy,” she
whispered, “do you hear squeaking?”
Nancy stopped to listen, then nodded. “Yes. And I’m
pretty sure I know what it is.”
“What?” Bess asked nervously.
“Don’t panic, but it sounds like mice,” Nancy said.
“You know, those harmless little furry creatures.”
“Mice!” Bess jumped toward Nancy, almost
knocking her over. “Get me out of here!”
Suddenly, the prop room lights blazed on.
“That’s weird,” Nancy said, frowning.
Bess shivered. “Now I’ll be able to see the little furry
things instead of just hear them.”
A few minutes later, a key turned in the lock and the
door flew open.
“Caught you!” a voice cried. Whirling around, Nancy
and Bess found themselves face to face with Lawrence
Steele. He was brandishing a tire iron menacingly.
When he saw Nancy and Bess, he raised his brows in
puzzled surprise. “What are you two doing here?”
“Somebody locked us in,” Nancy said simply. She
looked at him suspiciously. “And what are you doing
here?”
Lawrence snorted. “Saving your skin!” he retorted.
“You would have spent a cold night in the prop room if
I hadn’t decided to drive by the school on my way to
the gala. I saw that the front door was wide open, so I
grabbed my tire iron and came in to take a look
around. Then, when I tried the light in the hall, I
figured someone had switched off the main breakers.”
“I bet you locked us in here,” Bess accused.
Stepping forward, she glared up at the handsome
dancer.
“Ha! Believe me, if I’d locked you in, I certainly
wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you out.”
Bess shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “But
then who did shut us in here?”
“Whoever the person was, he found your Mouse
King headpiece,” Nancy told Lawrence. “He put it on
so we couldn’t recognize him.”
Suddenly, Bess let out a little shriek and jumped on
top of a box.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lawrence demanded,
pointing at Bess with his tire iron. “And where are your
shoes?” he added, looking at her stockinged feet.
“There are mice in here,” Nancy explained. “We left
our shoes by the door so the intruder wouldn’t—”
“Mice!” Lawrence interrupted. He leaned the tire
iron against the door jamb, then fell to his knees and
began crawling around.
“Have you gone crazy?” Bess inquired as Lawrence
crawled past her.
“Of course not,” he snapped. “I’m looking for my
mice.”
“Your mice?” Bess repeated in disbelief.
Lawrence stopped to peer under the sled. “The
mice in here must be the ones that were stolen from
my locker a couple of days ago.”
“You keep mice in your dance locker?” Bess stared
down from the box, a horrified look on her face.
“Not usually. Only when I plan to feed my snake. Ah
ha!” Lawrence said suddenly, pouncing on something.
Getting to his feet, he held up a struggling white
mouse by its pink tail.
Bess wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yuck.” Lawrence
slipped the mouse into a pocket of his tweed top coat.
Then he looked back and forth at Bess and Nancy.
“Okay, so why don’t you girls explain what you’re doing
in here?”
“We’re just helping Madame,” Nancy replied. “Bess
had to pick up a costume to hem, and we heard a noise.
So we went to investigate, and . . .” Her voice trailed
away.
Lawrence nodded. “And you figured it was me
wearing a giant mouse head. I guess you don’t seem to
trust me very much, Ms. Drew.”
Nancy raised her brows. “What makes you say that?”
she asked in an innocent voice.
“Oh, it’s just a feeling I get,” Lawrence replied. He
picked up the tire iron and slapped it against his left
palm. “No one seems to believe in me these days,” he
added.
Before Nancy could reply, Bess put her hand on
Nancy’s shoulder and jumped off the box. “Well, you
did almost drop Shana on her head,” she pointed out.
“That was Shana’s fault,” Lawrence said. “She’s
trying to ruin my career.”
Before Nancy could stop her, Bess said, “We happen
to know that you’re the one who’s trying to get rid of
her.”
“Look, another mouse,” Nancy cut in quickly,
pointing at the floor behind Lawrence. “It just ran
under the cannon.”
“Excellent!” Lawrence dropped to his knees again,
and the two girls hurried quietly out the prop room
door.
“Let’s get out of here quick,” Bess said, skidding
down the hall after Nancy. “That guy with his mice is
nuts.”
Nancy stopped at the end of the hall. “I should
probably look around first,” she said. “If Lawrence is
telling the truth, then the person we surprised in the
prop room might still be in the building somewhere.”
“No way.” Bess tugged on Nancy’s coat sleeve.
“’Cause if Lawrence is lying, he’ll be after us in two
seconds.”
“You’re right.” Nancy headed toward the front door.
Suddenly, lights from outside the building briefly
flooded the hallway.
“Headlights!” Nancy exclaimed. She rushed to the
door just in time to see the school van roar out of the
parking lot.
“Do you think Lawrence is making a getaway?” Bess
asked.
Quickly, Nancy slipped her high heels back on, then
started outside. “I don’t know,” she replied, “but we
need to find out. It could be the person who was
wearing the Mouse King headpiece.”
“If we go after the van, we’ll miss the gala!” Bess
protested, struggling into her red flats. But Nancy was
already heading down the steps to the car. Slipping and
sliding on the ice, she made her way to the Mustang.
“Wait for me!” Bess called. She was shuffling
carefully along the snowy walk, trying not to fall.
Nancy jumped into the car and started the engine.
Reaching across the passenger seat, she opened the
door for Bess. “Hurry!” she urged.
As soon as Bess had climbed in and strapped on her
seatbelt, Nancy pushed the gas pedal to the floor. She
wanted to catch whoever was driving the van—or at
least find out where he or she was going.
“Oh, no.” Bess was bent over in her seat. “Look at
my stockings. They’re ruined!”
“Mmmm,” Nancy commented without really hearing
her friend. She was trying to spot the white van.
Suddenly, she saw it make a left turn several cars
ahead. “There it is!” she cried, wheeling the Mustang
abruptly into the left lane.