The Emeral-Eyed Cat Mystery

  Nancy Drew Mystery Stories #75

  The Emerald-Eyed Cat Mystery

  Contents

  1. A Strange Welcome

  2. Close Call

  3. Happy New Year

  4. Kidnapped!

  5. A Spooky Hacienda

  6. Locked In

  7. A Secret Passage

  8. Danger in the Hall

  9. Hidden Treasure

  10. Escape

  11. Mesa del Oro

  12. Rescue Attempt

  13. Outwitting the Guard

  14. A Clever Plan

  15. Trapped

  16. Concealed Cargo

  17. Slim Hope

  18. Foiled

  19. Where is the Senora?

  20. Flight to Freedom

  1. A Strange Welcome

  “Nancy, I have a job for you,” Mr. Drew told his eighteen-year-old daughter, a famous amateur detective. “Would you go to Phoenix and visit my old friend and client, Jules Johnson?”

  The titian-haired girl smiled with an excited sparkle in her eyes. “I’d love to, Dad. What’s it all about?”

  “Several months ago, Mr. Johnson bought a lot of material for his textile company during a visit to South America,” Mr. Drew explained. “The cargo was shipped to the United States on a freighter called the Rayo del Sol. The ship sank and he was reimbursed for his loss by insurance. However, he was very upset because he had handpicked the cloth and cannot readily replace it. Then he heard something that made

  him suspect there may have been something fishy about the sinking of the freighter.”

  Nancy looked at her father expectantly. “What was that?” she asked.

  The tall, distinguished-looking lawyer leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his neck. “Shortly after they received the insurance money, the Johnsons took a Caribbean cruise on a ship named Fiesta. They talked about the Rayo del Sol to a crewman, who remembered having seen the ship shortly before it went down. As a matter of fact, the sailors of the Fiesta had helped in the search for the Rayo’s crew.”

  “I still don’t understand what you’re getting at,” Nancy declared.

  “Well, it turned out that the Rayo sank just outside of Cartagena, Colombia, which was not one of the freighter’s ports of call. The ship wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near that city.” “It could have changed its schedule for some reason, couldn’t it?” Nancy inquired.

  “Yes, that’s possible. But Mr. Johnson was curious and called me about it, wondering whether perhaps fraud was involved. I checked around and found that not only the Rayo, but two other cargo ships had sunk near Cartagena

  in the last six months, and none of them was supposed to have been there.”

  “I see,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “Were they all registered by the same company?”

  “No,” her father replied. “I haven’t been able to find any link there. I called MIC Transport Company, which owned the Rayo. A clerk told me the man in charge would return my call, but he never did. Subsequent calls were not even answered. I had no better luck with the other two companies. Why don’t you see Mr. Johnson? Perhaps he can give you more information. Then I’d like you to go on to Los Angeles and interview the crew of the Fiesta. You may pick up a clue or two there.”

  Nancy stood up and raised her hand in a mock salute. “Yes, sir! When should I leave?” The prospect of another mystery to solve was exciting to her and she wanted to get started as soon as possible.

  “How long will it take you to pack a suit- case r

  Nancy giggled. “Five minutes!”

  “Ha!” her father teased. “A woman takes longer than that to pack a handbag! But let me call the airport and see if I can get you an afternoon flight.”

  When Nancy entered the Cafe del Pueblo in Phoenix the following day, she smiled as she recognized the middle-aged couple sitting at a corner table. The Drews had known the Johnsons for many years and she was glad to see them again. A moment later, however, she felt a slight wave of apprehension as she greeted her old friends. There seemed to be a strange lack of welcome on their part!

  “Your father isn’t with you, Nancy?” Mr. Johnson asked her with some hesitation.

  “No, he’ll be tied up in court for a few days,” the girl replied. “But he’s been investigating your case and wants you to know what he’s learned so far.”

  “He could have mailed us a report,” Jules Johnson declared. “He didn’t need to send you all the way out here to deliver it.”

  Nancy laughed. “Actually, I’m only stopping briefly in Phoenix on my way to Los Angeles,” she said. “That’s why I suggested that we meet downtown rather than at your house in the suburbs. I’ll be interviewing the crew of the Fiesta, since they were the ones who brought your attention to this mystery. I also want to contact several shipping companies while I’m there.”

  “Several shipping companies?” Mrs.

  Johnson, a plump, gray-haired woman, frowned.

  Nancy nodded. “When you telephoned Dad about the sinking of the Rayo del Sol, he checked with a number of insurance companies. He found out that the Rayo was only one of three ships that had sunk under similar circumstances.” Quickly the young detective told the Johnsons what her father had learned.

  Mrs. Johnson shrugged. “I don’t know—the more I think about it, the more I feel we’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” she said. “The insurance was paid. We weren’t defrauded.” “That’s true,” Nancy said. “But Dad tried to contact the owner of the Rayo del Sol several times, and didn’t get an answer. It’s very peculiar

  “Perhaps there aren’t any answers,” Mr. Johnson stated. “This could be a wild goose chase, Nancy. The Rayo may have picked up unscheduled cargo in Cartagena. I think we should forget the whole thing. After all, the insurance company didn’t feel there was anything suspicious about the claim.”

  Mrs. Johnson nodded. “There’s really no reason for you to go to California, my dear,” she added. “Why don’t you stay with us and enjoy Phoenix for a few days?”

  Nancy put down the taco she was about to bite into and frowned. “Are you saying that you’re no longer interested in knowing whether there was fraud involved in the sinking of the Rayo del Sol?” she asked.

  Mr. Johnson shrugged. “It’s a small matter. I was angry in the beginning, but I’ve been very busy the past few days and really don’t want to pursue the investigation.” His gaze went around the quiet garden cafe and Nancy followed his eyes, aware that the man was uncomfortable.

  “I’m afraid I can’t stop now,” she said softly. “We’ve found too many suspicious coincidences and feel they warrant checking out. Of course, if I don’t learn anything in Los Angeles, I suppose we’ll have to give up.” She smiled. “Perhaps I can stop and report to you on my way home? I’ll only be in California for a night or two.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be in town,” Mr. Johnson replied evasively. “I have some pressing business that has come up suddenly.”

  Nancy glanced at Mrs. Johnson and saw confusion in the woman’s face. Apparently she knew nothing about her husband’s impending trip. The Johnsons were obviously very worried about something, and the young detective suspected that it had to do with her investigation.

  Mr. Johnson quickly changed the subject. “How is Hannah Gruen?” he inquired. “Still taking good care of you and your father?”

  Nancy smiled, allowing herself to relax a litde as they talked about the Drews’ kindly housekeeper and other friends that the Johnsons had in common with Nancy and her father. She didn’t mention the mystery again until lunch was over and the couple was helping her into a taxi outside the cafe.

  “There’s really nothing more you
can tell me regarding the Rayo del Sol?” she asked.

  Mr. Johnson shook his head. “It’s not important. But if you feel you must follow up this matter, just—just be careful.” With that, he closed the cab door and walked away, his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

  Someone must have threatened him or warned him not to continue the investigation, Nancy thought. She looked out the window and saw a tall, dark man climb into a car on the other side of the street. He looked vaguely familiar. Had she seen him in the cafe? A moment later, the car vanished into the traffic and her taxi driver took her to the airport.

  Nancy’s flight to Los Angeles was a short one, and upon her arrival she checked into a nearby

  hotel. After freshening up, she called a taxi to take her to San Pedro, where the shipping companies she wanted to visit were located. It was also the berthing place for the cruise ship Fiesta, which she was hoping to catch before it sailed on its next journey.

  “Would you please take me to the MIC Transport Company on Third Street?” she asked the driver. She glanced back at the hotel entrance just in time to see the same tall, dark man she had noticed in Phoenix hurrying toward a gray sedan. Nancy frowned. Was this just another coincidence, or was the man following her?

  Although the gray car went off in the opposite direction, when the taxi reached Third Street, the girl felt uneasy again. She found herself in a rundown harbor area with decaying warehouses and shuttered-up buildings.

  Her driver stopped in front of one of them. “Seems you’re out of luck, Miss,” he said. “This place isn’t in business any longer.”

  Nancy sighed, then consulted her list and gave him the second address. It was less than a block away, as was the third company. All the offices were dark, and CLOSED signs hung over their doors.

  “Where do you want to go now?” the driver asked.

  “Do you know where the Fiesta is docked?” the girl inquired.

  He nodded. “Not far from here.”

  “Well, unless it has already sailed, I might as well go there,” she decided, feeling bitterly frustrated.

  “It just arrived today,” the driver informed her. “You don’t need to worry.”

  His words proved correct. The Fiesta was a huge, white ship buzzing with activity. It took nearly an hour before Nancy was able to talk to the busy captain. He summoned three sailors to his office. “Perhaps these fellows can help you,” he said. “Most of the crew is new and wouldn’t know anything about the Rayo sinking.”

  As the first man entered, the captain stood up. “You can talk right here,” he said. “I have to go up to the bridge.” With that, he left the office.

  Nancy spoke to the young man, who was pleasant but could not give her any information. Neither could the second sailor, who arrived a moment later. “The Rayo del Sol was just another ship in port,” he said. “I paid no attention to it until the rescue mission the following day. And at that point we really didn’t talk to the

  crew; all we did was fish them out of the water.” The third man walked in just as the other two were leaving. “I’m Barry Cole,” he said, after Nancy had introduced herself. He was slim and tall and appeared to be only a few years older than the girl detective.

  “I understand you were on the Fiesta during a cruise several months ago,” Nancy said. “When you stopped in Cartagena, Colombia, did you see the freighter Rayo del Sol?

  “That’s the ship that sank a day later, isn’t it?” Barry asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Sure, I saw it. Not only that, I visited it. I’m a language student, and whenever we were in a foreign port, I went ashore and practiced talking to the people on the docks and other ships, even if I only had a few minutes.”

  Nancy felt a surge of excitement. “What were they saying?”

  “At first, the usual. But then one fellow told me he had overheard that the freighter was sailing with almost no cargo, and he couldn’t understand why!”

  2. Close Call

  Nancy stared at Barry Cole in utter surprise. “You say there was hardly any cargo on the Rayo del Sol before she sank?”

  Barry nodded.

  “Did the man tell you anything else?” the girl pressed.

  “Offhand, I don’t remember. Look, I have to get to the airport. This was my last cruise; I’m going back to college. Do you want to come with me while I get my things? Maybe I’ll think of something else that might be useful to you.” “I’ll do better than that,” Nancy said. “I’ll go to the airport with you. We can share a taxi.” “Good idea.”

  A half hour later the two young people walked

  off the cruise ship. Barry carried two large duffel bags and a suitcase. “We’ll have to go to First Street to catch a taxi,” he said. “I know a shortcut through the warehouse over there, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” Nancy assured him.

  As they strolled through the bustling warehouse, Nancy suddenly stopped short.

  “What’s the matter?” Barry asked.

  “There’s a tall, dark man ahead of us,” she said softly. “I saw him in Phoenix and again at my hotel in Los Angeles. I have a feeling he’s been following me!”

  Barry, who had heard about Nancy’s detective work while he was packing his clothes, stared at the girl in surprise, then said, “Well, let’s go after him!”

  The two hurried through the aisles lined with heavy cartons and boxes. Suddenly, Nancy heard a rumbling to the left, and a stack of wooden crates began to rock violently. Instantly, she grabbed Barry’s arm and dragged him away. A moment later, the huge crates toppled down behind them!

  The roar of the crates exploding against the concrete was like thunder. Splinters of wood and pieces of metal flew through the air, some of them striking Nancy and Barry, driving them

  farther into the shadows of the warehouse.

  Finally they stopped running. “What in the world was that?” Barry gasped, trying to catch his breath. “If you hadn’t dragged me away—” Nancy’s face was grim. “I don’t believe it was an accident,” she whispered. “Let’s get away from here as fast as we can.”

  The two made their way out of the warehouse. Nancy paused only once to look back, trying to see if her pursuer was anywhere in sight. There was no sign of him, however, and soon the young detective and Barry Cole were on their way to the airport.

  Barry could not add any clues when he tried to recall his conversation with the sailor on the Rayo del Sol.

  “Apparently the insurance company did not hear about this,” Nancy said thoughtfully, “or it would have investigated. If there was little or no cargo on the ship before it sank, it must have paid for claims that weren’t justified.”

  “But then what happened to the cargo you say was supposed to have been on board?” Barry wondered. “And why did the ship come to Cartagena?”

  “That’s what I’ll have to find out,” the girl said with determination.

  At the airport, she said good-bye to Barry, who promised to call her at home if he should think of anything else or hear more about the mysterious ship from his sailor friends. Then Nancy went to her hotel and called her father. She reported all that had happened, and Mr. Drew listened carefully.

  “I think you should come home,” he said. Nancy was reluctant to admit defeat. “There’s one more thing I can do while I’m here,” she suggested. “I’d like to visit the dock employment office tomorrow and see if I can locate someone who was on the Rayo del Sol during that eventful trip.”

  Mr. Drew thought for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, “go ahead. Just be careful.”

  “I will, Dad,” she promised.

  The next morning the young detective arrived at the harbor bright and early, and went into the small office where sailors and dockworkers signed up for jobs. A middle-aged man sat behind a desk and looked at her curiously. “Do you want to sign up for a cruise?” he asked. “Are you an entertainer?”

  Nancy shook her head and briefly told him what she ne
eded to know.

  The man stroked his chin. “I could go through

  the files to see if I can find anything,” he said. “But it’ll take a while. Can you come back tomorrow?”

  Nancy was disappointed about the delay, but knew she could not do anything about it. “Sure,” she said, flashing a smile at the man. “I really appreciate your help.”

  She left the office, which by now was crowded with seamen. She did not notice one of them following her out until he tapped her lightly on the arm.

  Nancy whirled around and stared into the eyes of a small Oriental man in overalls. A smile curled his pencil-thin mustache.

  “I heard you talk to Roger in the office,” he said. “Maybe I can help you.”

  Nancy’s heart beat with excitement. “Were you on the Rayo del Sol when she sank?”

  The man shook his head. “No. But a friend of mine was. He was one of the officers.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  “In San Francisco. After the Rayo sank and he almost drowned, he decided he had had enough of the sea. He’d been saving his money for a long time, and he opened a restaurant on Grant Avenue in Chinatown.”

  “What’s his name?” Nancy pressed.

  The sailor pulled out his wallet and riffled

  through some folded papers and credit cards. Then he pulled out a dog-eared business card and handed it to Nancy. “Here. He gave me this in case I wanted to visit his place someday. I know the address, so you can have it. His name is Jim Liu. Tell him Charlie Sim sent you.”

  Nancy pocketed the card and thanked the man. She debated whether she should speak to the employment agent again in the morning for further information or go to San Francisco right away to follow up her new clue. Quickly, she decided on the latter. An hour later she was at the airport.

  As she hurried toward the terminal, she noticed a tall, dark man emerge from a car. It was ominously black with black-tinted windows that permitted the driver and passengers to see out, but no one to look in.

  Nancy’s heart pounded. Although she didn’t recognize the car, she was positive that the stranger was the same man who had been stalking her every movement. She went into the building and quickly glanced up and down the row of ticket counters, observing the flight schedules overhead. One listed departures for New York.