The Triple Hoax (6 page)

The girls found the quarters delightful. While they were unpacking, the three friends talked about what had happened.

“I don’t understand how the anonymous caller knew we were coming to Mexico City,” Bess declared.

George said, “The Hoaxters left New York before we made our plans!”

“That’s true,” Nancy admitted. “Perhaps Howie Barker or another confederate stayed behind. He could have visited the luncheonette and learned from Susie the waitress that I had inquired where the Hoaxters had gone.”

“I see what you mean,” Bess said. “And after he found out we knew they went to Mexico City, he figured we would follow and warned the theatrical group.”

“That’s right. Then Barker called the police, pretending to work with the U.S. Department of Justice.”

They had just finished unpacking when the telephone rang. Aunt Eloise Drew was calling. “I just heard from the New York police department,” she told Nancy. “They have unearthed a clue to the thief who stole the vial of poison. His name is Enzo Scorpio.”

“He’s the assistant to Mr. Horner who owns the medical lab in New York!” Nancy exclaimed.

“That’s correct,” Aunt Eloise replied. “He’s originally from Mexico City. The police think he may have returned there and advise you to keep your eyes open. You may be able to track him down.”

“I wonder if he’s trying to sell the vial,” Nancy mused.

“It’s likely that he’ll approach a collector,” Aunt Eloise said. “At least that’s what Mr. Horner believes. He notified the police when Scorpio disappeared unexpectedly, taking all the cash in the lab with him.”

After Nancy had hung up, Bess looked alarmed. “I hope that poison doesn’t get into the hands of the con men. Can you imagine what would happen?”

Nancy nodded, then changed the subject. “What do you say we go see the Hoaxters?”

“Good idea,” her friends agreed.

“I wonder if the show is the same here as it was in New York,” George added.

The girls inquired at the desk where the magicians were scheduled to appear and learned that the theater was not far away. There was no matinee. The evening performance would start at eight o’clock.

Bess was worried that the girls would be recognized by the performers. “Why don’t we disguise ourselves?” she suggested.

“How?” George asked.

“We could buy Mexican dresses, and shawls to wear on our heads. If anyone gets too close, we can just pull the shawls halfway up over our faces.”

“Good idea,” Nancy agreed, and the girls spent the rest of the afternoon shopping. They found an attractive boutique owned by Senora Clara.

“May I help you?” she asked in perfect English.

“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asked her companions. She was holding a pretty turquoise skirt in front of her.

“That is a beautiful choice,” the proprietor remarked. “It matches your eyes so well.”

“She’s right, Nancy,” Bess said. “If only I could find something to suit ...”

“Your waist!” George laughed. “Señora, do you carry chubby sizes?”

Her cousin bristled. “Thanks a lot, George.”

Senora Clara smiled. “You remind me so much of my favorite nieces in the States,” she said. “I’m sure I can find something just right for all of you.”

As promised, the young detectives were able to select just what they wanted. When they arrived at the theater that evening in their attractive Mexican clothes and new hairdos, only a few minutes remained before curtain time.

The girls glanced at the program and noticed that the sleight of hand man was listed as Ronaldo Jensen, the same person they had seen previously.

Just before the performance started, a beautiful woman arrived and sat down in the aisle seat next to Nancy. She was expensively and tastefully dressed and carried a large beaded evening bag.

During intermission, she introduced herself to Nancy in Spanish as Senora Rosa Mendez, a lonely widow.

“My family lives in Oaxaca,” she explained. “I have a darling little granddaughter named Dolores, but I don’t see her very often because she lives too far away. I really miss her very much. I’ll show you a picture of her.”

The woman opened her purse and took out a snapshot of the little girl, who looked to be about nine years old.

“She’s darling,” said Nancy, gazing at the dark-haired, bright-eyed child. “I’m not surprised you’d like to see her more often. I’m sure the show will lighten your spirits,” she added with a smile. “By the way, do you speak English?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Nancy. “My friends don’t understand Spanish.”

At the beginning of the second act, the Hoaxters performed a new trick. One of them raced down the center aisle, holding a flaming torch in his mouth. He crossed the rear of the theater and returned to the stage via a side aisle. Then he took the torch out of his mouth and extinguished the flames. The man opened his mouth wide to show that nothing inside had been burned.

“An amazing feat,” Senora Mendez said to Nancy.

“Indeed it is,” the girl agreed.

Just then the sleight of hand man appeared and invited members of the audience to come forward and watch how some of the tricks were done.

Señora Mendez said, “Oh, I’d love to see that!” Before Nancy could stop her, the woman left her seat and hurried down the aisle.

Bess whispered, “I hope she won’t be approached by any of the con men later on. Señora Mendez looks as if she has plenty of money; just the kind of person they’re after.”

The show proceeded. Clever tricks were done by the magicians. The audience laughed and clapped. The people who had gone on stage had become so absorbed by the performance, none of them noticed that several of their watches, necklaces, wallets, and handbags had disappeared. The sleight of hand man assured them that all articles would be returned after the show.

“Please return to your seats,” he requested.

Señora Mendez said to Nancy, “They took my handbag. Do you think they will really give it back to me?”

Nancy said she was sure they would, but added, “Did you have anything valuable in it?”

“Yes, I did,” the woman replied. “My savings bankbook, some money, and several letters and papers that I would hate to have anyone else read.”

“Do they contain something confidential?” Nancy asked, worried that the Hoaxters might take advantage of this.

“Yes,” Senora Mendez answered. “There was important background information about my family that no outsider should know about!”

Nancy had a sudden hunch. She felt positive that such information could indeed be used to blackmail the woman!

 

 

 

In a loud whisper, Nancy said to the distraught woman, “I’m sure you’ll get your handbag back. My friends and I saw two Hoaxter shows in New York, and Bess’s handbag was taken. But it was returned afterward.”

“Oh, good,” Senora Mendez said and settled back in her seat to enjoy the balance of the performance. As soon as the show was over, however, she dashed down the aisle and up the steps to the stage.

“Do you have property you wish to claim?” the sleight of hand man asked her.

“Yes, I do. I want my handbag at once!”

“Follow me,” he said and led her into an office backstage. She picked up her bag, opened it, and rifled through the contents eagerly.

“Is everything there?” the man asked.

“Eh, yes—yes.”

He requested that she sign a paper releasing the Hoaxters from any liability. Señora Mendez did so, then hurried back to where the girls were waiting for her.

“Is everything all right?” Bess asked her.

“Fortunately yes.”

Nancy hoped this was true. She felt, however, that she should warn Senora Mendez. “There is a possibility the Hoaxters looked at your property and found something pals of theirs could use to either swindle or blackmail you. Please call your bank and request them to hold any check they suspect is a forgery. Also, don’t let any fast-talking salesmen con you into dishonest schemes, either by telephone or in person.”

The woman promised to do so. “Now you have me a bit frightened,” she said. “Shall I call the police when something happens?”

“Yes,” Nancy replied, “and if you need our help, we’ll be glad to do whatever we can. We’re amateur detectives.”

“Where are you staying?” Senora Mendez asked.

“At the Fortunato,” Nancy replied and wrote their names on a piece of paper. She handed it to the woman. Señora Mendez, in turn, gave Nancy her address and telephone number.

“Have you any plans for tomorrow?” she asked.

Nancy said no, and the friendly Mexican immediately invited the girls to visit the Pyramid of the Sun with her. Intrigued by the name of the ancient monument, the young sleuths accepted eagerly. Señora Mendez promised to pick them up at ten the following morning. When she arrived, Nancy and her friends were waiting in the lobby.

On the way Bess complimented Senora Mendez on her expert handling of the car. The traffic was fast and appeared dangerous.

“You’re brave,” Bess said. “I wouldn’t like to drive here.”

“We’ll soon be out of the city,” the woman replied with a smile. “The roads will be less busy then.”

“How far is the pyramid?” George asked.

“About twenty-five miles,” Señora Mendez said. Then she told the girls some stories of ancient Mexico.

“There’s one legend which I have always liked,” she said. “Native Indians were standing on the shore of the ocean when they saw a huge fish approaching. A white man was seated on its back. Since the Indians had never seen a white man, they were sure he must be a god. When he landed, they knelt before him and he became their ruler for many years.”

“Where did he come from?” Nancy asked.

“Apparently from Europe. The legend does not say at what point he got astride the fish, which was probably a friendly dolphin. No doubt he was a crewman from a shipwrecked vessel and was rescued by the dolphin.”

“Lucky fellow,” Nancy said with a chuckle.

Señora Mendez smiled. “When the man became old, he longed to go back to his own land. The last time the Indians saw him, he was climbing onto a dolphin’s back to leave Mexico.”

“What a charming story!” Bess remarked.

George laughed. “And a pretty preposterous one.”

Nancy did not have time to comment because Senora Mendez immediately launched into another tale.

“No one is sure when the first Indians settled around Mexico City. Archeologists, who have been digging here for many years, believe it was at least four thousand years ago. One group after another came to fight the inhabitants. If the new arrivals won the battle, they immediately imposed their own political, religious, and ethical ideas on the captured people. Our present-day ruins are all that is left of the Aztec and earlier civilizations.”

“Did the Aztecs build the Pyramid of the Sun?” Nancy asked.

“Not according to some scholars who say it was part of a Toltec tribe’s city that was a thousand years old when the Aztec people came to power.”

“The Aztecs were a highly intelligent and cultured people,” George put in.

“That’s true,” Senora Mendez said. “And now look up ahead. There’s the Pyramid of the Sun.”

The enormous, broad-based structure rose in steps straight up into the blue sky with only a few fluffy clouds to soften its stark lines.

“What are those other buildings?” Bess asked.

“There’s the smaller Pyramid of the Moon,” Senora Mendez pointed out, “and in the distance are a number of pyramids, temples and burial spots, including the well-known Temple of Quetzalcoatl. All these were built on both sides of an ancient road about four miles long, known as the Highway of the Dead.”

Bess shivered. “Not a very inviting name.”

Senora Mendez smiled as she parked the car in a lot some distance from the pyramid. “I assure you there is nothing scary about this place,” she added as they headed toward the imposing structure.

Señora Mendez told them that the pyramid had been erected in honor of the Sun God whom the Indians worshipped.

“It certainly is huge,” George remarked.

“Yes, two hundred and sixteen feet high,” their Mexican friend explained, “and seven hundred and fifty feet around the square base.”

On the side facing them shallow stone steps led to the top. Several people were ascending.

“Do you feel like climbing?” Senora Mendez asked.

“Oh, yes,” the girls chorused.

“What’s at the top?” Bess wanted to know.

“Nothing now,” was the reply. “But a thousand years ago it was very different. Prisoners of war were marched up the steps and slain at the top by priests.”

“Ugh!” Bess murmured. “I’m not sure I want to go up after all.”

Senora Mendez said that there was nothing left to remind anyone of that cruel custom. “But there’s a magnificent view which you shouldn’t miss.”

Bess finally consented to go. She was the last in line and after a while the rest of the group had advanced far ahead of her.

Suddenly a middle-aged woman a few feet above Bess cried out, “Oh, I’m falling! I feel faint! Save me! Save me!”

No one was near her except Bess, who saw the woman teeter, then begin to tumble down the steps.

“I must catch her before she hurts herself!” Bess thought frantically. But she knew that if she remained in front of the stranger, she herself would be knocked down by the impact.

A quick thought flashed through Bess’s mind. She had once read that in climbing or descending mountains or monuments, the Indians always zigzagged their way. They would take a dozen steps to the right, then to the left. This not only kept them from falling but helped conserve their breath.

Bess turned and braced herself. She caught the woman around her shoulders. Both teetered for a few seconds, then Bess regained her footing and started down sideways, dragging the woman with her.