The Ringmaster's Secret (14 page)

“Any time,” the owner of the nursing home said. “She has very little in the way of luggage. It wouldn’t take ten minutes to pack it.”

Before Lola Flanders knew what was happening, she and her suitcase were in the big automobile, and she was saying good-by to Mrs. Ayres. The trip back to London did not take long.

Mr. Drew insisted that Mrs. Flanders be examined by another doctor. The physician revealed the patient had been under heavy medication and should be feeling her old self as soon as the drugs were out of her system.

By the following morning, Mr. Drew had made arrangements for taking Lola Flanders to the United States. He and Nancy had decided not to cable Lolita. While they hoped the flight would not tire Mrs. Flanders too much, they agreed that it would be better to wait until they arrived home before telling Lolita the wonderful news.

At the airport the two Pietros said good-by. The younger clown took Nancy aside. “Do you think I should tell Mrs. Flanders that Lolita and I are going to be married?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Nancy advised. “Wait until she is feeling better.”

The journey over the Atlantic was smooth and quick. When the plane landed in New York, a messenger was waiting with several telegrams. The stewardess came to Nancy’s seat and handed one of them to her.

Quickly she tore it open, then stared at the paper in horror. The message had been sent from River Heights and read:

FoR a moment Nancy sat in stunned silence. Then quickly she showed the telegram to her father, and in a whisper cautioned him not to read it aloud.

“Mrs. Flanders mustn’t see it,” she said hurriedly.

“You’re right,” her father agreed in a low voice. “This is dreadful news.”

Trying not to show her agitation, Nancy helped Mrs. Flanders from the plane. The woman looked around in a daze. For a moment Nancy was afraid Mrs. Flanders might collapse from the strain of the trip. But suddenly the ex-circus performer smiled and said, “To think that I am back in the U. S. A.! Oh, it doesn’t seem possible that in a little while I’ll see my daughter again!”

“We’ll have to find out where she is,” said Nancy gently. “I don’t know where the circus is right now.”

Mrs. Flanders was trembling with excitement. While Mr. Drew took their baggage through Customs, Nancy suggested that she sit down.

She led Mrs. Flanders to the women’s lounge and asked the matron if she would please look after her for a few minutes. The kindly woman promised to do so.

“Please don’t let her out of here,” Nancy requested.

“Don’t you worry, miss,” the matron said. “I’ll guard her as if she were my own relative.”

Nancy hurried off to find her father. At the Customs desk, she said to him in a low voice, “Dad, I’ve just decided that the telegram is a hoax. Nobody in the States knew when we were flying back.”

“It’s just possible,” said Mr. Drew, “that the doctor who attended Lola Flanders may have visited the nursing home and found out that she had left for the States. He could have cabled Kroon.”

Nancy thought they should call Bess’s home. Going at once to the telephone booth, she placed the call. Bess herself answered.

“Where are you?” she asked Nancy.

“New York City. I just landed. Bess, did you send me a telegram?”

“Why, no,” Bess replied in surprise. “What made you think I had?”

Nancy told her that someone had signed her name to a very unfortunate message. Then she asked if Bess had heard from Lolita recently.

“Yes. I just spoke to Erika. Lolita is fine. Why do you want to know?”

Nancy told her about the latest developments. Bess gasped, first in horror that anyone could be so cruel as to send such a message, and then in delight to hear that Lolita’s mother had been found.

“Where is the circus playing?” Nancy asked.

“It’s moving to Melville tonight. They’ll be there for three days. That’s why Erika called me. She wanted to know about any news of Pietro.”

Quickly Nancy gave Bess the details of the trip and concluded by saying that Pietro wanted to return to the circus as soon as possible and marry Lolita. “When Erika calls again, will you please give Lolita that message,” she concluded.

Returning to her father, who had just received their baggage, Nancy told him the latest turn of events. Mr. Drew became grave.

“One thing is sure. We are being spied upon. We’ll probably be followed. I suggest that we evade our pursuers and throw them off the track.”

Nancy agreed. Suddenly an idea came to her. “I heard an announcement a few minutes ago that a helicopter’s taking off for Newark. Suppose we fly over there and then drive back to New York? Anybody following us could never get there in time.”

Mr. Drew smiled. “That’s an excellent plan,” he said to his daughter.

He went to buy the tickets while Nancy hurried to the women’s lounge for Lola Flanders and then led her to the helicopter.

The trip to Newark and back was made in a little more than an hour. When they arrived at Eloise Drew’s apartment, the lawyer took his sister aside to ask if Lola Flanders might stay at her apartment temporarily. Under the circumstances, it seemed best to keep her in hiding until they found out who had sent the strange telegram.

Eloise Drew was delighted with the arrangement. Nancy would stay with her also. Mr. Drew said he had to return to his office at once and would catch an afternoon plane to River Heights. After luncheon, Nancy said she would like to do an errand. Actually she wanted to talk to Captain Smith and tell him what she had found out in England. Miss Drew also said that she had an errand, which must be taken care of.

“Do you mind staying alone, Mrs. Flanders?” Nancy asked.

The woman laughed. It was the first time Nancy had heard her laugh and it reassured the girl as to Lola Flanders’ condition.

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Flanders said. “You know, I feel like a new person. I have no more fears.”

Nancy and her aunt left the apartment together. Miss Drew said she would not be gone more than twenty minutes, and Nancy could take all the time she needed. They separated, and Nancy went at once to call on Captain Smith.

“You back so soon? It’s only been a few days.” The officer shook his head. “Well, what’s the news?”

After hearing Nancy’s story, Captain Smith looked at her in admiration. He said no detective or police officer could have done a better job—and probably not so fast.

“There’s still a lot to accomplish,” Nancy said. “Have you found out any more about the Tristam Booking Agency or Lola Flanders’ dividend checks?”

“I have some news that will amaze you,” the officer said, “The Tristam Booking Agency has gone out of business!”

“It has?” Nancy asked in amazement.

The police officer said the firm had folded overnight and left no forwarding address.

“There has been no mail for Lola Flanders for two days,” the captain stated. “I was just about to telephone one of the companies from which the dividend checks come to find out if they had been notified of a change of address. I’ll do it now.”

He put in a call to an oil company. Presently he received the information he wanted. Hanging up, he turned to Nancy and said, “Well, that’s a break. The new address is the Hotel Coles in this city!”

Before Nancy could do any more than show her surprise, the captain was placing another call. This time it was to the hotel desk. He learned that a young dancer named Lola Flanders had registered there the day before.

Nancy told Captain Smith about the fake telegram, directing her to go to the Hotel Coles.

“But you didn’t do it?” the man asked.

“No.”

“I’m glad,” the officer said. “It’s in a bad neighborhood.”

Captain Smith said he would send a detective to the hotel at once to check on Lola Flanders. He would have another man find out who had sent the telegram.

“Please call me at my aunt’s home if you learn anything,” Nancy requested.

The officer promised to do so and Nancy returned to the Drew apartment. She rang the bell and instantly the door was opened by her Aunt Eloise. She looked frightened.

“Nancy! Lola Flanders is gone!” she cried.

“SHE must have had another attack of amnesia and wandered off!” Aunt Eloise said in despair.

“Or someone came here and persuaded her to leave,” Nancy surmised.

Hastening to the street, Nancy asked some children playing there if they had seen a small sweet-faced woman leave the apartment house.

“I did,” a little girl spoke up. “She and another lady got in a taxi.”

“What did the other lady look like?” Nancy asked.

The little girl said the woman had curly blond hair and red cheeks. She had not heard them tell the driver where to go.

Nancy hurried upstairs and called Captain Smith. At her request he agreed to check the Hotel Coles. A few minutes later the officer called back to report that Millie Francine had not been at the hotel since she had registered.

An idea occurred to Nancy. Consulting the classified telephone directory, she made a series of calls to theater booking-agents and restaurants that employed dancers. The list was long and it was over an hour before she had any success. Then she found that Millie Francine was employed at the Bon Ton Night Club.

Nancy decided to get in touch with the dancer. Even if she knew nothing about Lolita’s mother and her possible kidnapping, she might be able to give Nancy a lead to the guilty party.

As Nancy was wondering how to contact Millie, the doorbell rang. She ran to the door, hopeful that Lola Flanders had returned. Instead, Ned Nickerson stood there, a broad grin on his face.

“I know you didn’t expect to see me,” he said, stepping into the apartment. “I telephoned earlier to see if by any chance you were back. When I heard you were here, I came over!”

Nancy stared at him in surprise. “Who answered the phone when you called?”

“I don’t know.” Ned went on to tell Nancy that whoever had answered the phone had said that Nancy and Miss Drew were out and that she herself was just about to leave.

“Then she mumbled something about going to see her daughter,” Ned remarked.

“Oh Ned,” said Nancy, “it’s just what I feared. Lola Flanders has been kidnapped!”

“What do you mean?”

Nancy told him the whole story and then said, “Ned, you and I are going to the Bon Ton as fast as we can get there.”

“Well, I’m glad I have a date,” Ned said, “but why pick out a place like that? Anyway, it won’t be open in the afternoon.”

Nancy looked discouraged. Then she said hopefully, “Maybe the girls in the act rehearse in the afternoon. Let’s go anyway.”

To Nancy’s delight, the Bon Ton was open. As she had hoped, a rehearsal was going on. She and Ned sat down at a table in a dim corner and watched.

It was not difficult to identify Millie Francine because presently the director called out, “Millie, what’s the matter with you? Your voice sounds as if you’d been eating gravel!”

Millie Francine seemed to be nervous. When her part in the show was over she sat down at a table not far from where Nancy and Ned were. They got up and went over to sit with her.

Nancy spoke in a low tone. “Where have you hidden the real Lola Flanders?”

Millie Francine fell back as if someone had struck her. In a quavering voice she asked Nancy who she was.

“I’m a detective and I know all about you,” Nancy replied. She gave the girl enough of the story to convince her.

Shaking with fright, Millie declared she was innocent. “I used to be with Sims’ Circus,” she said. “Mr. Kroon knew I needed money. When he suggested I could earn some extra cash just by pretending my name was Lola Flanders, I didn’t see any harm in doing it.”

The dancer said she had been paid well by Kroon and Mr. Tristam, the owner of the agency.

“What about the mail that came to you in care of the agency?” Nancy asked.

Millie looked surprised. She said she had never received any mail there. Nancy told her about the dividend checks and her suspicion that Kroon and possibly Tristam were stealing them.

The dancer began to weep. She insisted that she had done nothing wrong and did not want to go to jail.

“I don’t think you’ll have to go to jail,” said Nancy, “providing your story is true. It will help a lot if you tell us where Lola Flanders is right now.”

“I don’t know,” said Millie. “The agency busted up, you know.”

Nancy asked if Millie knew where the Tristams lived. She gave them an apartment house address.

“How soon will the rehearsal be over?” Nancy asked the dancer abruptly.

“I’m through now,” the girl replied.

“In that case, I’ll go to your dressing room and wait while you change. Then you’re going with us to the apartment.” Nancy was fearful the dancer might telephone the Tristams and spoil everything.

Millie Francine demurred.

“The easiest way to prove you’re innocent,” said Nancy, “is to face those people.”

“I never thought of that,” the dancer said. She led Nancy to her dressing room.

Twenty minutes later the three set off in a cab. Unbeknown to Nancy, Ned had telephoned Captain Smith and asked that a policeman meet them at the apartment house. Upon their arrival, they found him waiting.

Nancy suggested that Millie Francine call up to the apartment that she was there, but not to mention that she had other visitors with her. The dancer did her part and the front door was opened.

They rode up in the elevator to the third floor and found the Tristam apartment. Millie rang the bell. The door was opened by a woman with curly blond hair whom the dancer called Mrs. Tristam. The four callers burst in.