The Scarlet Slipper Mystery
Read The Scarlet Slipper Mystery Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
Tags: #Art Thieves, #Jewel Thieves, #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Dance Schools, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Adventures and Adventurers, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #Mystery & Detective Stories, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #General, #Smuggling, #Mystery and Detective Stories
Table of Contents
Match Wits with Super Sleuth Nancy Drew!
THE SCARLET SLIPPER MYSTERY
Nancy meets Helene and Henri Fontaine, refugees from Centrovia who run a dancing school in River Heights. Strange circumstances have brought the brother and sister to the United States. When they receive an anonymous note threatening their lives, Nancy offers her help.
But she encounters nothing but puzzles. Are the Fontaines involved with the Centrovian underground? Have they been threatened by their own countrymen? Why? Is a series of paintings by Henri Fontaine being used for a sinister purpose?
Suddenly the Fontaines disappear. Have they been kidnapped? Nancy and her friends pursue the trail relentlessly, even though danger lurks around every corner. They are trapped by their enemies, and escape seems impossible. But Nancy’s quick wit finally enables her to solve this intriguing and intricate mystery.
“Hannah!” Nancy cried. “Who did this to you?”
Copyright © 1974,1954 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam &
Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.
NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster,
Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number:
Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.
NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster,
Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number:
eISBN : 978-1-101-07733-7
CHAPTER I
A Frightening Message
“WE will crash! Oh—oh!”
An ashen-faced, middle-aged man leaned across the aisle of the jet plane toward Nancy Drew.
The attractive reddish-blond girl smiled reassuringly. “Please don’t worry,” she said gently. “Only the engine has stopped. We’ll be all right. And we’ll soon reach River Heights.”
“No! No!” the man moaned. “This is the end and all my work—!” He mumbled something to himself in a foreign tongue, then added, “My beloved Centrovia—” He shook a fist as if at the pilot, then buried his face in his hands.
When Nancy tried to comfort him further, a stewardess and a man and a woman passenger crowded alongside, blocking her view. The foreign gentleman quieted down, the two passengers returned to their seats, and Nancy became engrossed with the preparations for landing. Would it be as safe as she had predicted, she wondered?
The pilot maneuvered his ship expertly, bringing it down in a long glide and landing on the far end of the runway at the River Heights Airport.
When the plane rolled to a stop, Nancy smiled at the stranger across the aisle and said, “That wasn’t bad, was it?”
“A miracle!” was the abrupt answer. The man stood up, grabbed a briefcase from under his seat, and quickly departed.
Nancy put on the jacket of her navy suit, picked up her purse, and walked slowly to the door. She paused to tell the stewardess how much she had enjoyed the flight, then hurried down the ramp. A short distance beyond stood her two closest friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, in gay cotton skirts and blouses.
George was an attractive girl with short dark hair and a slender figure, much like Nancy’s. George’s pretty cousin Bess, on the other hand, was slightly plump and worried continually about her figure.
“Hi, Nancy!” George exclaimed. “Have a good time at your Aunt Eloise’s?”
“Perfect! I love New York.”
“See any shows?” Bess asked.
Nancy nodded. “Three. One was a musical with wonderful dancing. You’d adore it, Bess.”
As soon as Nancy had collected her baggage, the three girls walked to Nancy’s convertible, which her friends had brought to the airport. Nancy took the wheel, and as they drove toward the residential section of town, she said, “Tell me everything that’s happened while I was gone.”
Bess giggled. “I’ve lost two pounds. There’s a wonderful new dancing school in town, Nancy. All kinds of classes. I’ve joined one in reducing. Matter of fact, we just came from there.”
George sniffed. “Yes, Bess takes it off dancing and puts it all back on by eating.”
Nancy laughed and asked, “Who’s running the new dancing school?”
Bess said that it was owned by a brother and sister named Henri and Helene Fontaine, who had recently come to River Heights from France, and that they were exceptionally fine dancers as well as excellent teachers.
“They have a simply delightful accent,” Bess said. “Wait till you hear them talk.”
George remarked that the classes had an interesting feature. Before each lesson, Helene and Henri gave a talk on the history of the dance.
“How fascinating!” said Nancy, her blue eyes sparkling. She was always intrigued by the background of any art form.
A few minutes later they reached the Fayne residence and George climbed out. She waved good-by, saying, “See you soon. I want to hear all about your trip, Nancy.”
The car pulled away from the curb and Bess suddenly cried out, “Oh, I’ve lost my purse. I must have left it at the dancing school in the excitement of going to meet you.”
“We’ll stop by and pick it up,” Nancy offered.
The school occupied the second floor of an office building in the business section of River Heights. Nancy parked and waited while her friend hurried upstairs. Bess was back in a few seconds, however, without her purse.
“Oh, your pocketbook wasn’t there after all?” Nancy asked.
“It’s not that. I didn’t even look for it. Nancy, something dreadful must have happened to Helene. She and Henri are there all alone, and Helene is crying as if her heart would break. Please come with me and see if we can help her.”
Nancy hesitated a moment. She remarked that perhaps the matter was a family affair and they should not intrude. But Bess felt sure there was more to it than that.
“I heard Helene tell Henri she was so frightened!”
Nancy needed no further urging. She got out of the car instantly and hurried up the stairs with Bess. As the two girls entered the studio, Helene, a dainty, dark-haired girl, was saying to her brother in French, “No, we must flee again!”
Nancy and Bess stood still as the startled couple looked up. Henri was a tall, handsome young man with blond hair. He was leaning on an ivory-and-gold French Provincial desk, behind which his sister was seated.
At a glance Nancy saw that the room was spacious and beautifully furnished with gold chairs and deep-blue drapes. On the wall above the desk hung a pair of scarlet ballet slippers.
“Oh, Bess, come in!” Helene urged, drying her eyes with a dainty handkerchief.
Bess moved forward slowly. She introduced Nancy, then added, “If you are in some kind of trouble, perhaps we can assist you. I couldn’t help overhearing you when I came back for my handbag a few minutes ago.”
The brother and sister exchanged quick glances. Then Henri slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid this is too serious a problem.”
“Of course we don’t mean to intrude,” said Bess. “But you see, Nancy is a detective and has solved many difficult mysteries.”
The Fontaines looked at Nancy in amazement. Then Henri said, “A girl detective? You are very pretty and—hardly look like a detective!”
Nancy laughed merrily. “I’m afraid Bess is giving me too much credit, but I’ll be glad to do anything I can for you.”
Again Henri and Helene exchanged glances. When the girl nodded to her brother, Henri said, “We do need a friend. Perhaps you girls are the ones to help us.”
Henri took an unsigned note from his pocket and showed it to Nancy. It was hand-printed in French and at the bottom, crudely drawn in red, was a pair of ballet slippers, similar to those hanging on the wall.
“The note was folded and left on the desk by some unknown person,” he explained. “It was not addressed to Helene and me, but the scarlet-slippers insigne convinced us that the note was for us—no one else. Here, I will translate it for you.”
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