Authors: Carolyn G. Keene

The Spider Sapphire Mystery (3 page)

BOOK: The Spider Sapphire Mystery

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“Bess and George and I are driving up to Emerson early tomorrow morning,” Nancy told him. “Will you be going too?”

After talking with his wife, Mr. Nickerson said he thought not. They had concluded that if Ned had been kidnapped, a demand for ransom would come to the house. They wanted to be home to receive any messages.

“And we figure it’s too soon to notify the police—at least before we get a ransom note.”

Nancy said the three girls would make an extensive search of the area around Emerson. “Burt and Dave will join us in the hunt as soon as their exams are over. I’ll let you know what we learn,” she promised.

“And I’ll call your father if we receive a ransom note,” Mr. Nickerson said.

No word came during the night and everyone in the Drew household arose early. Nancy did not feel like eating breakfast but her father and Hannah Gruen insisted.

“It’s a long drive to Emerson and you’ll need all your strength,” the housekeeper stated.

Just before six o‘clock Nancy stopped her convertible in front of Bess Marvin’s home. At once the front door opened and the pretty, blond-haired girl came out to the car, carrying a rather large suitcase.

“Hello, Nancy. Please forgive the big bag. No telling how long this mystery may last. Oh, isn’t it terrible? I think this is the worst mission you’ve ever asked me to go on with you.”

“I’m afraid it is.” Nancy was grim.

There was little conversation for the next few blocks as they rode to George Fayne’s house. The slender, dark-haired girl ran down the steps, swinging a small overnight bag which she tossed into the back of the convertible, then hopped in.

Once on the highway, Nancy kept to the speed limit and the miles flew past quickly. By noon the three girls had reached Emerson and checked in at the Longview Motel.

“Let’s start work right away,” Nancy urged, as soon as they had eaten lunch. “I think we should go to the railroad and the bus station to ask if anyone saw Ned go out of town day before yesterday.”

When nothing was learned from these sources, the girls went to two rent-a-car agencies and made inquiries. No one answering Ned’s description had rented a car the day he disappeared.

“I’m tired,” said Bess. “Let’s go back to the motel and rest, then start out again.”

When the girls reached the Longview, Nancy said she would call the Nickersons. “I hate to report failure, but they may have some word by this time.”

Ned’s parents had heard nothing. Mr. Nickerson said that if they did not hear from Ned by nighttime, they would notify the police. They were almost certain that Ned had been kidnapped. But by whom and why?

“It begins to look as if the kidnappers were not after money,” Mr. Nickerson stated. “Nancy, have you any theories about the reason?”

“Yes, I have,” she answered. It may be a far-fetched idea, but there’s a possibility that a mystery I might work on in Africa is the answer. The kidnappers may feel that by keeping Ned from going, I would stay home.“ In a moment she added, ”And I would, too.“

Presently Nancy said good-by. As she came from the phone booth, Burt and Dave walked into the motel lobby. “Any luck?” they asked.

Nancy shook her head. “If we only had one little tiny clue—”

“We have!” the two boys cried together.

Burt said that a short while ago, when they returned to the fraternity house after the exam, they had received a phone call. The caller’s voice was quick and muffled, but they were sure he had been Ned Nickerson.

“What did he say?” Nancy asked as Bess and George hurried up to the trio.

“The message sounded like ‘Swahili Joe pair 4182.’ ”

“What does that mean?” Bess spoke up. “If Ned could talk to you, why didn’t he tell you something you could understand?”

Nancy said that perhaps Ned was afraid the place where he was being held prisoner was bugged and he did not dare give the location except through this code.

“It’s not going to be an easy one to crack,” Dave remarked. “Who is Swahili Joe?”

“My guess,” said George, “is he’s the kidnapper.”

Burt offered to telephone the local police and ask if they had ever heard of such a person. He soon returned to say that no one at headquarters had ever heard of a Swahili Joe.

“They thought he might be a restaurant owner or barber, but there’s no record of anyone by that name.”

“It’s probably a nickname,” Dave suggested.

The five young people talked at great length about the strange name and finally Nancy said she would get in touch with her father. “I’ll ask him to contact the Immigration Department and find out if Swahili Joe is an African who entered the United States from some country where Swahili’s spoken.”

As she left to make the call, George came up with another theory. The numerals 4182 might be part of a phone number. “It will take us forever to go through the book but let’s try.”

When Nancy rejoined them she too started to look. The task seemed endless.

Bess sighed. “We’re getting no place fast,” she mumbled. “Nancy, what did your father say?”

“He’s going to get in touch with the FBI as well as the immigration authorities. He said he’d call me back, so I guess we’ll have to stay here for a while.”

It was three o‘clock when the call came. Mr. Drew told Nancy that no person nicknamed Swahili Joe was known to have entered the United States.

Nancy asked her father if there had been any more news about the case of the spider sapphire. When he answered No, she said:

“Dad, do you think there could be a fraud in connection with this whole thing?”

CHAPTER IV

New Interpretation

THERE was silence on the wire for several seconds before Mr. Drew spoke. Do you mean that perhaps the real spider sapphire wasn’t stolen?“ he asked his daughter.

Nancy said that it might be an insurance fraud. The owner of the gem, working either alone or with some other men, might have reported to the insurance company that the jewel had been stolen.

“Then he’d collect a large amount of money for it,” Nancy stated.

Later on the sapphire would be sold secretly to some unscrupulous person. The buyer might break up the huge gem into smaller stones and sell them.

“Your hunch is a very good one, Nancy,” the lawyer answered. “At this stage no one really knows. Suppose I tell you the whole story.”

“Please do,” Nancy requested.

Mr. Drew said that two men had come to call on Mr. Ramsey.

“They said they were emissaries of the owner of the spider sapphire, Mr. Tagore. Their names are Jahan and Dhan. They were born in India but live in Mombasa, Africa.

“Mr. Ramsey was amazed and angry when the two men accused him of stealing the owner’s gem and exhibiting it as a synthetic sapphire.”

“The nerve of them!” Nancy burst out. “What did Mr. Ramsey do?”

“He called in several of his company employees, who also vigorously denied the accusation, saying that Mr. Ramsey was a genius and indeed had fashioned the synthetic spider sapphire himself.”

“Then what happened?” Nancy asked.

Mr. Drew told her that at this point Jahan and Dhan had apologized for being so hasty, but came up with a new theory. “They now accused Mr. Ramsey of having borrowed the original from the thief and used it as a model for his own gem.”

“That’s even worse!” Nancy exclaimed.

Her father agreed. “Of course Mr. Ramsey denied their claim, but Mr. Dhan with a smooth sort of smile said, ‘Mr. Ramsey, if you will give us back the original gem, or the money it is worth, we promise not to say anything to the authorities. Certainly you want to avoid unpleasant publicity.’ ”

“That sounds serious,” Nancy remarked. “What happened then?”

“By that time Mr. Ramsey had become very suspicious. He said he would have to think over the whole matter and asked the men to return in a few days.

“Mr. Ramsey came to me at once with the entire story. I decided to get in touch with the owner of the real spider sapphire, but was told he was away on vacation and his secretary, a man named Rhim Rao, also an Indian, was taking care of his affairs.”

“Did he confirm Jahan and Dhan’s story?” Nancy queried.

“Yes, he did.” While he, too, had been polite, Rhim Rao insisted that Mr. Tagore’s spider sapphire had been stolen and suspicion most certainly pointed to Mr. Ramsey. “I could not convince him that the synthetic gem had been made right here in River Heights,” the lawyer added.

Mr. Drew said that he had been in Mr. Ramsey’s office when Jahan and Dhan had returned. He, as attorney for Mr. Ramsey, and to test the Indians’ honesty, had insisted upon some kind of proof from the two foreigners before any discussion could take place. “They promised to bring some, but of course they never did. I engaged a detective to trail them, but unfortunately they managed to slip away.”

Nancy asked her father if he thought this meant Jahan and Dhan had left the country.

“Possibly, but not under their own names—or at least the names of Jahan and Dhan. I checked with the immigration authorities.”

Nancy continued to think about the strange story as she said good-by to Mr. Drew and returned to her friends in the lounge of the Longview Motel. They were so busy discussing how to go about finding Ned Nickerson that Nancy decided not to tell them her father’s story now. Each one in the group made several wild guesses as to what the strange message from Ned could mean.

Suddenly Burt spoke up excitedly. “Hey, I just thought of something. Maybe we’re figuring on the wrong pair. Ned could have meant
p-a-r-e.”

“You could be right,” Dave replied, “but what’s he going to cut off? It leaves us just as confused as ever.”

“He could also have meant
p-e-a-r,”
George stated.

“True,” said Bess. “But what would he have meant by that?”

George could not resist the temptation to tease her cousin. “You love to eat. The answer should be easy for you.”

Bess was used to George’s gibes and invariably they piqued Bess into coming up with an answer. This time was no exception. With a toss of her head, she said, “How about a pear orchard?”

“Brilliant idea,” Dave praised her. “But how are we going to locate the right pear orchard?”

“I might have an answer to that,” Nancy spoke up.

“Then out with it,” Burt urged. “The sooner we find Ned the better.”

Nancy asked, “Wasn’t Ned doing some map making in connection with one of his courses?”

“Yes, he was,” Dave replied. “How does that apply here?”

Nancy smiled. “In map making you use latitude and longitude.”

“Right,” Burt agreed. “But what’s the connection?”

Nancy’s answer amazed the others. “Those numbers 4182. They might mean latitude and longitude.”

“Boy, that’s a brilliant idea!” Dave burst out.

“It sure is,” George spoke up. “Let’s find a map of this area.”

The manager of the motel supplied one. The young people spread it out on a table in the lobby, Nancy ran her finger along the longitude line while George ran hers up the one for latitude. Their fingers met at a point several miles from Emerson.

“That’s it!” Burt cried. “Let’s go!”

The five young sleuths set off in Nancy’s convertible. There were main highways only part of the distance. Then it became necessary to take bumpy, country roads. The last part of the journey was a long, very narrow stretch with a deep ravine on their side.

“I hope we don’t meet anybody,” Bess said nervously. “Whatever would we do?”

The words were hardly out of her mouth when they heard the roar of a motor around the bend just ahead. Nancy, who was driving, began to blow the convertible’s horn. In a moment a truck pulled up in front of her and stopped.

The driver proved to be a farmer. Nancy got out and walked up to him.

“This is unfortunate,” she said. “What are we going to do?”

The farmer scowled. “What are
we
going to do? You mean what are
you
going to do?”

Nancy stared at the unpleasant man. “I’m not familiar with this road. You must be. Is there a turnoff anywhere?”

“No,” he answered. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. Get in that car of yours and back up.”

By this time Burt and Dave had jumped out of the convertible.

“We’re on the ravine side,” Burt spoke up. “Couldn’t you just pull your truck off the road a little so we can pass?”

“And maybe break a wheel or overturn?” the farmer cried out. “I should say not. Besides, I’m in a hurry. I got to get to market.”

“You’re asking us to back up for a whole mile,” Dave protested.

“That’s exactly what I want you to do. And you’d better be quick about it!” the man shouted.

Nancy was dismayed. While it was not impossible for her to back up a mile, it seemed unnecessary. She was sure that if the farmer would pull off the road a little, he would neither break a wheel nor upset. He was being very unreasonable.

“Oh, this is dreadful!” Bess wailed.

The argument ceased when they heard another car coming along the road in back of Nancy’s convertible. The newcomer was a State Police officer. Quickly scanning the scene, he stepped up to the group and asked, “What’s the trouble here?”

“These kids won’t back up to let me pass!” the farmer growled.

Nancy was about to speak up when the officer said to the farmer, “I think it would be much simpler if you pull over and let these people pass.”

The farmer, muttering under his breath, got back into his truck and pulled off the road. After thanking the policeman, the others returned to their car and continued their journey, with the officer following. At a crossroad the policeman turned off and waved to the young people.

“How much farther is it?” George asked,

Burt consulted the map. “Four-one-eight-two should be right ahead.”

BOOK: The Spider Sapphire Mystery

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