(#30) The Clue of the Velvet Mask (3 page)

“I’ll be here early to pick you up.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Nancy’s father had waited up for her in his den. When she related the strange events at the party, Mr. Drew frowned.

“Here’s the black velvet hood which the police let me borrow,” she concluded, handing it to her father. “I have a hunch it may be an important clue.”

“How well do you know Linda Seeley?” her father asked.

“Not too well,” she admitted. “Linda was in a few of my classes.”

“She may find herself in serious trouble,” the lawyer said. “The Lightner Entertainment Company is having legal difficulties. Mr. Lightner, the owner, has appealed to me to defend his firm against several threatened lawsuits.”

“Who’s bringing them?”

“Former customers whose homes were robbed during parties arranged by the company. They’re demanding that he settle for the losses not covered by insurance. They’ve given him a couple of weeks to decide. Mr. Lightner insists he’s not liable.”

“You’ll defend the firm, Dad?”

“I probably will. Before I commit myself, though, I’d like to investigate the company. The trouble is, I’m tied up in an involved real-estate litigation. The case will take me out of town.”

“How about appointing me your assistant?” Nancy proposed. “I’d love to work on the mystery until you’re free to take over.”

“I suspected as much.” Her father chuckled. “All right, Nancy. While I’m away, suppose you check on Mr. Lightner, Linda, and the other employees. Find out what you can.”

“I’ll do that—first thing,” Nancy promised.

The Lightner office was situated on a narrow downtown street in River Heights. Early the next morning Nancy walked to it, and on the pretext of returning the Spanish costumes asked to see Mr. Lightner.

He was a short, slightly built man. “What can I do for you?” he inquired nervously. “I trust you found your costumes satisfactory?”

“In every respect, Mr. Lightner. One of your employees, Linda Seeley, selected them.”

“Linda is a very capable girl,” the proprietor remarked. “She’s been here only a few months, but she learns fast. And she has clever ideas.”

Nancy glanced around the room. The office walls were decorated with a variety of weird-looking masks. She complimented Mr. Lightner on his unusual collection, then asked thoughtfully, “You have a great many velvet masks, I suppose?”

“Yes. Most of them are kept in the wardrobe rooms. Would you like to see them?”

“Very much.”

Mr. Lightner pressed a buzzer, summoning an employee to show Nancy through the wardrobe rooms.

“I wish I had time to take you around myself,” Mr. Lightner said regretfully. “I could talk myself hoarse on the subject of masks.”

Nancy asked if there was any particular historical significance connected with the wearing of black velvet masks.

“Oh yes,” he replied. “Many men wore them during the reign of Louis XIV in France. In that period of terror and political intrigue it wasn’t safe for certain persons to appear on the streets except in disguise. Black velvet hoods were worn especially with wide-sleeved dominoes or robes.”

“Do you have some of these robes for rent?”

“Yes. John will show them to you.”

John Dale proved to be an attractive and amiable guide. When they finished the tour of the wardrobe rooms, Nancy broached the subject of black dominoes. She told of having been at the Hendricks’ masquerade and dancing with a strang er who was wearing that type of robe.

“I’ve been wondering who he is,” she said. “Did you happen to rent such a costume?”

“No, I didn’t,” John replied. “Everyone who came to me wanted something spectacular. Would you like to see our black cloaks? We have several kinds.”

“Yes, I would,” Nancy replied, trying to stifle her excitement. It was possible that someone else in the firm had rented the costume to the thief I

CHAPTER III

False Discoveries

JOHN Dale showed Nancy a rack of black cloaks, some with attached hoods. He was closing the glass door of the case when Nancy’s eyes fastened on a particular robe.

“Wait!” she exclaimed. “May I see that costume a moment?”

The long black cloak, which hung in graceful folds, had a slight tear near the hem. Examining it closely, Nancy noted that a tiny piece of material was missing and a rose thorn was caught in the frayed threads. This cloak must have been worn by the masked man she and Ned had seen at the garden trellis!

“Was this cloak returned here today?”

“I don’t know,” John replied. “You’ll have to ask either the intake clerk or Mr. Lightner.”

“I’ll see Mr. Lightner,” Nancy decided. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

She could not find Mr. Lightner immediately. Finally she saw him on the street about to get into his car and beckoned to him. He returned with her to the wardrobe room.

John Dale was no longer there, but he came back shortly, saying that Mr. Tombar, the assistant manager, had asked him to go on an errand.

“Now let’s see this cloak you say has a hole in it,” Mr. Lightner said to Nancy. “The costume never should have been returned to the rack without being repaired.”

Twice Nancy looked through the costumes, examining every one.
The telltale cloak was not there!

Seeing an empty hanger, she asked John, “Did you remove the one I pointed out to you?”

“Why, no,” he answered.

“Then someone took it while you were called away. You saw the cloak yourself only a few minutes ago.”

“Yes, I did,” the man replied.

Mr. Lightner checked with his other employees by telephone, but all denied having seen or removed the costume.

“Mr. Lightner, would you mind telling me who rented the cloak?” Nancy asked.

“Not at all. Every garment has a number. The one that belongs on this hanger is 4579. Come with me and we’ll look into the matter.”

Records showed that the cloak, a velvet mask, and accessories had been rented two days earlier to a James Flobear, Route 1, in Brandon, a small town about twenty miles from River Heights.

Mr. Lightner’s next remark stunned Nancy. He said that Linda Seeley had handled the transaction. But Linda had said the night before that her company had not rented any black robes!

Summoned by Mr. Lightner, the girl denied any knowledge of the cloak. “I didn’t know that costume had been rented,” she declared. “Someone else put my initials on the typed slip.”

“What!” Mr. Lightner exclaimed.

He was very upset and summoned every employee in the place. They all came except Mr. Tombar, who was busy with a customer. Each denied any knowledge of the entry for the torn cloak or its disappearance.

Mr. Lightner paced the floor. “This is bad—very bad for business,” he declared. “This firm is old and has a fine reputation.”

To break the tension Nancy asked how the costume had been returned. None of the employees had an answer.

Deeply troubled over the incident, Nancy decided to make an attempt to track down James Flobear. A short time later she left the entertainment company and telephoned the Brandon police. She learned that no one by the name of Flobear lived in or near the town.

“Just as I suspected,” Nancy said to herself. “Obviously a false name was given so there could be no follow-up. And whoever had charge of the transaction at Lightner’s is afraid of becoming involved or may even be working with the party thieves!”

Next, Nancy went to police headquarters, where she talked with Chief McGinnis. He praised her for her detective work at the Hendricks’ masquerade party, and listened attentively as she reported her new discoveries.

“You have a very keen eye for clues, Nancy,” the chief said with a smile. “You certainly beat us to that one. I’ll send a man over to Lightner’s to check on the cloak episode.”

Nancy asked if the police had at any time suspected the entertainment company in connection with the party robberies.

“We, of course, ran a routine check on the company. Had everyone in it shadowed for two weeks, even Mr. Lightner. But we didn’t find evidence against any of them.”

Nancy said quickly, “Last night Detective Ambrose seemed very suspicious of Linda Seeley who works there.”

“We’re keeping our eyes on her,” the chief admitted. “But there’s no direct evidence against her, you understand. It’s possible she may be accepting a percentage on each haul for supplying information. Miss Seeley may be working with the gang and also with servants in the homes where big parties are arranged by the Lightner Entertainment Company.

“The girl has a clean record so far,” the captain continued. “We never would have suspected her if we hadn’t been tipped off by her boss.”

“Mr. Lightner?” Nancy gasped.

“No, by his assistant, Peter Tombar. He suggested that the girl might bear watching, because she was specifically in charge of certain parties at which robberies took place.”

“I just can’t believe Linda is guilty,” Nancy said.

She left police headquarters more troubled than ever over the girl’s predicament. Could Peter Tombar’s opinion be trusted?

“I think I’ll go and have a talk with him,” she reflected.

It was nearing noontime when she reached the Lightner offices. Most of the employees had gone to lunch, but Mr. Tombar was there. A secretary directed Nancy to a rear room where he was inspecting an Egyptian mask.

Peter Tombar cast an unfriendly glance at Nancy. He was a rather stout man, dark-complex-ioned, with a hard, determined set to his jaw.

Nancy sensed instantly that Mr. Tombar would not cooperate unless it suited his purpose to answer her questions. Lowering her voice and assuming a confidential manner, she introduced herself as a private investigator.

“Mr. Tombar, I’m here to check up on one of your employees—a girl named Linda Seeley.”

A glint of satisfaction flickered in the man’s dark eyes. Immediately he became less guarded.

“In trouble with the police, isn’t she?” he demanded. “I told Mr. Lightner a week ago that that girl would get the company in hot water.”

“Tell me what you know about her,” Nancy urged.

“She’s flighty. Scatterbrained, I’d call her.”

“You’ve caught her in mistakes?”

“Well, not exactly,” Tombar admitted reluctantly. “She’s crafty. Twists like a pretzel when you try to pin her down.”

“Then you actually haven’t anything against her?” Nancy continued.

“A man has his own reasons for not liking hired help and he doesn’t have to tell why!”

Nancy decided not to pursue this line of questioning and asked calmly, “By the way, have you any theory concerning the recent party thefts?”

“I have!” Tombar returned with emphasis. “And I guess you know the person I mean.”

Nancy nodded. But more convinced than ever of Linda’s innocence, she felt an even stronger urge to help the girl. Tombar plainly intended to have Linda discharged if he could find some pretext.

Nancy left his office and walked across the street. Her dislike of the man was increasing and she wondered what motive he had for casting suspicion on Linda.

Passing a drugstore with a soda counter, Nancy went in for a sandwich. To her delight Linda was there too. She slid onto a stool beside her.

After giving her order, she drew Linda into conversation. The girl seemed very despondent, and Nancy could guess the reason.

“It’s Mr. Tombar,” Linda confessed. “He lectured me again this morning.”

“What about?”

“The robbery last night, and the missing black cloak.”

“The cloak hasn’t been found?”

“Not yet. Mr. Lightner is most annoyed. Oh, everyone’s in a frightful mood.”

As Nancy stirred her iced tea, she said, “Tell me about Mr. Tombar. What’s he like?”

“Vinegar and acid. He’s efficient, though. Mr. Lightner depends on him, but Mr. Tombar’s a slave driver, always bawling out employees if they’re a minute late.”

“Is he always on time himself?” Nancy asked.

“Oh yes. But he makes up for it by taking a two-hour lunch nearly every day. He waits until the others get back, then goes off alone.”

“Where does he eat?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t know,” Linda answered. “Maybe out of town. He always takes his car.”

Two hours for lunch was a long time for a strict disciplinarian like Tombar! The information interested Nancy, who mulled over it as she ate her sandwich.

“I must go now,” Linda said with an anxious glance at the wall clock. “See you later.”

Alone, Nancy leisurely finished her lunch. As she left the drugstore, she chanced to look across the street toward the Lightner offices.

Peter Tombar was just coming out, a package in his hand. Nancy saw him walk briskly to a green sedan parked a short distance away. A wild thought came to her. Did he have the torn cloak with him?

Nancy noted that not only the wheels but the fenders were heavily caked with mud. Evidently Tombar had driven recently on unpaved roads in the country. He might be going there now to dispose of the black robe!

Nancy wished she had driven her own car downtown that morning, but the crisp, cool breeze had encouraged her to walk. Just then a taxi rounded the corner. Instantly Nancy hailed the driver and hopped in.

“Follow that green car ahead!” she directed as Tombar pulled out.

“Friend of yours?” The taximan grinned.

“No, just the opposite,” Nancy replied.

“Okay, lady. Here goes!”

Nancy feared that Peter Tombar might have seen her action and give the cab a merry chase. Her fears were well-founded. The green sedan raced to the first corner and turned right. Seconds before the taxi reached the intersection, the traffic light turned red! The sedan carrying Peter Tombar and perhaps the missing cloak was far down the side street.

“That old boy’s sure stepping on it,” the driver declared. “You want me to try keeping him in sight?”

“I certainly do.”

“Then sit tight, miss,” he directed.

The light changed again and the taxi shot ahead.

“Look back and see if any cops are coming,” the driver said.

“Okay,” Nancy agreed, thinking perhaps she might need them.