The Triple Hoax (9 page)

“Have you called your daughter?” Nancy asked.

“Yes. She has heard nothing. I told her I would gladly pay the money, but she is afraid Dolores may not be returned even though the ransom is paid. That’s why I’m so upset. I don’t know what to do and I can’t ask anybody to help me!”

“Why not?” Nancy countered. “We girls will continue to work on the mystery for you.”

The woman pointed out there was another part to the note that they had not read yet.

“Turn it over,” she directed.

The remainder of the message warned Senora Mendez that harm would come to Dolores and her family if anyone contacted police or detectives.

The Mexican woman walked up and down the living room in great agitation. “So you see,” she said, “I’ll have to ask you girls to forget the case!”

Nancy, Bess, and George were stunned. They appreciated the grandmother’s concern about the safety of her family, but the young sleuths did not want to give up trying to find the child.

Nancy went to the distraught woman and put an arm around her shoulders. “We are not part of the police and we are not professional detectives,” she said soothingly. “We are only amateurs and the note does not include us. Please let us continue to work on your case.”

Senora Mendez hugged Nancy and kissed her, then consented to let the girls proceed in their hunt.

“But what can you possibly do?” she asked. “You have no idea where the kidnappers have taken my Dolores!”

“We suspect,” Nancy replied, “that the Hoaxters are involved in this, as I told you before.” She paused.

“Yes, yes, go on,” the woman urged.

“We found out,” Nancy continued, “that they have gone to Los Angeles. Possibly they took Dolores with them. The whole troupe left here abruptly without giving the theater manager any advance notice.”

“Oh, if you could only find Dolores!” Señora Mendez said, gazing at the three girls in admiration.

Nancy examined the ransom note more carefully, reading the words over and over. “I believe there’s a code message hidden in the wording.”

“It’s hidden all right,” Bess commented.

“A message for whom?” George asked.

Nancy replied, “My guess would be that it was intended for someone connected with the kidnappers.”

“But why would it be folded again and again before being sent to Senora Mendez?” Bess questioned.

Nancy was thoughtful. “Perhaps this folded note was not meant for her. It could have been delivered to Senora Mendez by mistake. Suppose there were two identical notes,” Nancy went on. “One was folded, the other not even creased. The plain one may have been the ransom note for Senora Mendez, the folded one a copy for a confederate.”

“I still don’t get it,” Bess admitted.

“The clue to a hidden message for the confederate must be in the folds!” Nancy declared.

“But there’s a fold under every word,” Bess said. “That’s the strangest kind of code I ever heard of.”

“Maybe the fan is the identification of the group.” Nancy said.

“You know,” George spoke up, “this reminds me of a game we used to play as children. A sheet of paper and a pencil were passed around a group. Each player would write one line, then fold the paper over and give it to the next person. When all the players had written on it, someone would open it and read the story. Usually it was a silly one about somebody in the group. Once the paper said I was a mad elephant who liked to dance!”

Nancy was not paying strict attention. She was already working to decipher the ransom note. First she read every second fold, next every third, then the fourth.

Suddenly she cried out, “I have it! The code is in every fifth word!”

“Well, Sherlock Holmes, what does it say?” Bess urged.

Nancy smiled and replied, “It says, ‘$100,000 in sack to 8 by X.”’

“Hm,” said Bess. “To me that makes no sense at all. If that’s a code, how are you ever going to break it?”

“Yes, how?” George challenged her.

Nancy replied, “I don’t know, but I’m not giving up. We must solve this! It’s too good a clue not to follow!”

 

 

 

“I think the 8 and the X are the solution to the puzzle,” Nancy said. “The 8 could stand for the eighth letter of the alphabet, namely H for Howie. But ‘by X’?”

“The twenty-fourth letter of the alphabet,” George said. “Or perhaps it signifies the twenty-fourth day of the month.”

“Or it could mean a signature,” Bess volunteered. “People who cannot write sign their name by making an X.”

George sighed. “It’s hard to be a detective. You have to be clairvoyant!”

Nancy laughed. “There are more possibilities.”

“Oh, no!” Bess shook her head in desperation.

“Perhaps the message was not meant for a confederate of the kidnappers at all, but for us!” Nancy suggested.

“I don’t understand.”

“Maybe the crooks want to lure us to a certain spot on a certain day where they can set up a trap!”

“Oh, don’t say such a thing,” Bess begged. “You make chills go up and down my spine.”

“Calm down, my dear cousin,” George said with a chuckle. “I’m sure if our enemies want to trap us they would have left more specific directions!”

Nancy asked Senora Mendez if any of the girls’ guesses gave her a clue to the solution of the puzzle.

The woman shook her head. “Nothing occurs to me,” she replied. “Do you think it could refer to something in Los Angeles?”

“We’ll try to find out when we get there,” Nancy replied.

After making an exact copy of the ransom note, the girls said good-by to their Mexican friend and left. On the way back to the hotel they stopped at a car rental agency. Nancy told the owner where the girls wanted to go.

He smiled and said, “My partner flew to New York last week and now has to go to Los Angeles for a month or so. He wants someone to bring his car to him. We’ll be glad to give it to you as a rental and you can leave it in Los Angeles. Usually we require our cars to be returned to this country.”

“Great!” Nancy said. “I suppose we came just at the right time.”

The manager nodded. “The car will be ready for you to pick up by seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

The girls were happy with the arrangement and left the agency.

“We’ll have some free time this afternoon,” Bess said. “Why don’t we go back to Senora Clara’s dress shop and see if we can find another Mexican outfit?”

George smiled. “I haven’t any money to spend, but I wouldn’t mind looking.”

When the girls arrived at Senora Clara’s, no customers were in the shop. The friendly woman greeted them with a smile. “Hello again. Look around all you wish,” she said. “I’ll be busy for a while because a man is coming to offer me some wonderful new stock.”

“What kind of stock?” Nancy asked, intrigued at once.

“In a company that has developed a fabulous fabric,” Senora Clara explained. “It sounded very interesting.”

To Nancy it sounded like a scheme the con men would invent, and she was suspicious at once. “Did you by any chance see a performance of the Hoaxters when they were in town?” she asked the dress shop owner.

“Yes, indeed,” Senora Clara replied. “Weren’t they fantastic?”

“They were,” Nancy admitted. “Did you go up on stage?”

“Yes.”

“I must tell you something we found out regarding the group that might concern you.” Nancy explained the girls’ suspicions and the various things that had happened to people who had attended the show.

Señora Clara was alarmed. “You mean the man who is coming here might try to swindle me?”

“It’s quite possible,” Nancy replied.

“But what shall I do? I have already made the appointment.”

“Don’t buy anything,” George advised.

Señora Clara agreed. “Perhaps you would like to stay with me and see if you recognize the caller.”

“We’d be glad to,” Nancy said. “If he’s Howie Barker, he would recognize us, so may we hide somewhere? Perhaps in a spot where we can get a good look at him?”

“Of course. One of the dressing rooms has a perfect view of my desk,” Señora Clara declared. “And since I have no private office, this is where I’ll sit when I talk to the man.”

“Good idea,” Nancy said and the girls crowded into the small cubicle. Its louvered door had slats through which the young detectives could look.

“This will be perfect,” Nancy said.

Señora Clara smiled. “Just don’t sneeze!”

Bess giggled. “We’ll do our best not to.”

A few minutes later two men entered the shop. They were well-dressed, good-looking, and very polite. When the taller one came closer and addressed Senora Clara, the girls stiffened. He was Barker, the man who had tried to swindle Bess!

“My name is Barker,” he said. “I spoke to you on the telephone a little while ago. This is my colleague, Mr. Cadwell. We would like to tell you about a new firm that has developed a most fantastic fabric.”

“Please be seated,” Senora Clara said and pointed to two chairs next to her desk.

Mr. Cadwell pulled a brochure out of his briefcase and handed it to Senora Clara. It showed a little girl wearing the same attire in different settings. One picture depicted spring, with the child sitting in a field of crocuses; the next one summer, where she was perched at the side of a pool. In the third picture the girl was climbing a tree with bright yellow and reddish leaves, and the fourth showed her seated on a sled surrounded by snow.

“You see,” Mr. Cadwell said, “this material can be worn at any time of year. It has a natural, built-in thermostat which adjusts itself to the wearer’s body temperature. It works for everyone in all climates!”

“That’s amazing!” Senora Clara said. “You mean this fabric can be worn comfortably 365 days a year in all climates?”

“That is correct.”

“Do you have a sample with you?”

“Certainly.”

The man produced several pieces of cloth from his briefcase. They were of different colors and textures, but each felt like a lightweight wool.

Señora Clara examined the samples but said nothing.

“This fabulous new invention,” Mr. Cadwell went on, “is called Silk-O-Sheen. It is not mass-produced yet, but the inventor is setting up his first plant. We offer stock in this venture to people in the clothing business for a mere ten dollars a share. Now, how much can I sign you up for, Senora Clara?”

Nancy, who had observed the scene closely from the girls’ hiding place, bit her lips. Would Senora Clara fall for the swindle?

But the businesswoman had a ready answer. “I’d like to think about it first,” she said. “Besides, I have to consult my accountant to see if I have any extra cash to invest.”

“Surely you have money in your cash register right now?” Mr. Barker urged. “You can give us a down payment of 20 percent and pay for the rest later.”

“I never make hasty decisions,” Señora Clara said coolly. “If you will leave me your card, I’ll be glad to let you know in a day or two.”

The men, who had been extremely affable until now, stopped smiling. Cadwell put the samples and the brochure back into his briefcase and snapped it shut angrily.

The visitors got up and bowed curtly. “You are making a big mistake!” Mr. Cadwell said. “And I’m telling you ...”

Just then his companion glanced at a nearby chair. On it lay a small cloth wallet with the name Bess embroidered on it. “Who else is here?” he asked.

Señora Clara did not answer but she got up to retrieve the wallet. Bess Marvin’s heart began to pound. It was hers!

Barker hurried to the chair and picked up the wallet. Señora Clara plunged toward him, crying out, “Leave that alone! Give it to me!”

Quick as a flash Howie Barker opened the wallet and read Bess’s full name on her driver’s license. The next second the store owner grabbed the wallet, while the man dashed to the louvered door and yanked it open.

“So!” he cried out angrily. “You girls deliberately spied on us! You’ll be sorry for this!”

With that, he and Mr. Cadwell sped furiously out of the shop.

 

 

 

George and Nancy ran after the men but soon stopped. Barker and Cadwell had jumped into a chauffered car and were out of sight in the heavy traffic a few seconds later.

“I couldn’t see the license plate,” Nancy said in disappointment.

As she and George returned to the shop, Bess asked worriedly, “What did Barker mean by that threat?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy replied, “but he’ll think up something to harass us.”

Senora Clara looked at the girls, puzzled. Then she said, “You’d better watch your step. I think those men could be very mean, even dangerous!”

“I think so, too,” Bess said, sighing. Then she added, “Now that we’ve averted a disaster, I’d like to look at dresses.”

Nancy laughed. “Go ahead. ”I’ll phone the police, meanwhile, and tell them what happened.”

“Please do,” Senora Clara said. “You can sit at my desk. And you know, Cadwell did not leave me a business card. That makes it even more obvious to me that they are swindlers.”

Nancy reported the incident to the authorities while Bess bought a lovely summer dress. Then they said good-by to Senora Clara, who wished them luck.

Early the next morning Nancy went to the car rental garage to pick up the automobile for the girls’ trip. As she entered the large parking area, she glimpsed a man hurrying out a side door.

“He looked like Howie Barker!” she thought and started to run after him.

Suddenly she stopped short, telling herself it was a good thing the man had not seen her. Otherwise he would guess that the girls were leaving Mexico City!

“If I caught him, I’d have no evidence anyway,” she decided and went to her rented automobile.