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    149 The Clue Of The Gold Doubloons

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    squawk of the gulls and the slap of the rigging in the

      breeze, the ship was quiet and peaceful.

      “I'll bet it was punks,” Andrew declared when Nancy

      told him what had happened. “The harbor is crawling

      with kids who have nothing better to do than trespass.

      We'll have to see if we can get that hatch door locked.”

      “Kids?” Daniel snorted. “No self-respecting kid is

      going to snoop around our cargo hold. I'll bet whoever

      it was was after the doubloons. It could be some tour

      guide who wants to hand them out as souvenirs. We're

      quite a tourist attraction, if you hadn't noticed.”

      Sitting upright, Andrew snapped his fingers. “Hey,

      that's not a bad idea. When it comes time to promote

      the film, we can use doubloons in the ads.”

      “Well, I just wanted to let you know.” Nancy could

      tell the twins weren't too worried. “I put the box of

      doubloons in the women's dressing room for

      safekeeping.”

      “Thanks,” Andrew said, then continued discussing

      with his brother ways to promote the film.

      “They didn't seem concerned,” George said as they

      left the quarterdeck.

      “That's for sure. And right now, I'm too sticky and

      tired to think about the snooper, either.” Nancy

      brushed a limp strand of hair off her forehead. “Just

      lead me to the hotel and point me to the shower!”

      “I'll have two of everything,” George declared an

      hour later as she read the hotel menu. “I'm as hungry

      as, well, as a pirate!”

      Nancy laughed. “Me, too. And everything looks

      good. Maryland's famous for its crab cakes, so I think

      that's what I'm going to order.”

      Both girls had showered and changed into

      lightweight slacks and short-sleeved shirts. Nancy had

      brought a jacket and George a sweater since they

      hoped to explore the Inner Harbor after dinner.

      “The grilled salmon sounds heavenly,” George said

      as she studied her menu. “With a shrimp cocktail

      appetizer.”

      “Shrimp sounds good to me, too.” Closing her menu,

      Nancy glanced around. She noticed the restaurant had

      a nautical theme. Framed photographs of the harbor

      area before it had been renovated and famous sailing

      ships dotted the walls.

      The dining room was full, Nancy noticed, but she

      didn't see anyone from the cast and crew. “I guess no

      one else is staying at the hotel except Selena,” she said

      to George. “And she probably orders room service.”

      “Orders is right,” George said with a chuckle.

      “You'll be just as haughty when you're a famous

      actress,” Nancy teased.

      “A famous actress?” someone said.

      Nancy glanced up. Their waiter stood by her elbow,

      looking expectantly at George. He was cute, with sandy

      blond hair. He looked to be about their age, Nancy

      guessed, though she knew he had to be at least twenty-

      one to work in the hotel restaurant.

      “Can I get your autograph?” the waiter asked

      George, a hint of laughter in his sky-blue eyes.

      George giggled. “Sure. Though unless you're a fan of

      educational TV, I doubt you'll ever catch my big

      debut.”

      The waiter snapped his fingers. “Robbers of the

      High Seas, right?”

      George stared at him in surprise. “Right. How'd you

      guess?”

      He smiled and shrugged. Nancy liked his open,

      friendly grin. “When Selena Ramirez checked in,

      everybody started talking about the film. Plus, I took

      filmmaking courses in college, so I was naturally

      curious. But hey”—his expression turned serious—“I'm

      here to take your order. You guys look starved.”

      After they ordered and he left, George leaned across

      the table. “He's cute.”

      “Oh, really?” Nancy replied as if she hadn't noticed.

      Minutes later, when he brought their salads and

      rolls, he introduced himself. “I'm Scott Harlow,” he

      said. “I'm waiting tables to earn money for graduate

      school.”

      Nancy and George introduced themselves, then

      George asked, “Have you lived in Baltimore a long

      time?”

      “All my life. So if you need a tour guide, I'm at your

      service.” He gave a mock bow. Then, leaning closer, he

      added, “So, is Selena Ramirez as gorgeous in person as

      she is in her films? Not that I'm a fan of hers.” He

      gestured to another waiter. “John is dying to meet her.”

      “Once he does, he'll run for his life,” George said

      under her breath. Nancy burst out laughing. When

      Scott gave her a puzzled look, she said, “Selena is

      temperamental. I doubt she'd give John the time of

      day. But maybe we can get him an autograph for you.”

      “Great!” Scott beamed. “Anything else I can get

      you?” When they both said no, he went over to another

      table.

      “I'll bet he wants the autograph for himself,” George

      whispered.

      “Maybe not. It's funny, though—working with

      Selena, I forget she's a fairly well-known actress.”

      “That's because you're too busy trying to forget her,”

      George said.

      For the next fifteen minutes, the two ate ravenously.

      When Nancy was finished with her salad, she pulled a

      brochure from her fanny pack. George was buttering a

      hot roll.

      “What should we see tonight?” Nancy asked. “The

      aquarium and science center will probably be closed by

      the time we finish dinner.”

      Just then Scott came up, a round tray balanced on

      one hand. “I overheard you talking about what to do.

      May I suggest a nighttime cruise,” he said, taking a

      dinner plate off the tray. The tray tipped, and Nancy

      gasped as the dishes slid sideways heading right for her

      lap.

      “Whoa!” Just in time, Scott leveled the tray. “Sorry.”

      He glanced nervously back at the closed door of the

      kitchen as if worried someone had seen him. “I wasn't

      paying attention,” he explained, giving Nancy an

      apologetic grin.

      “One order of salmon,” he said, setting George's

      plate in front of her. It hit her drink glass with a clink.

      When the glass threatened to tip, George grabbed it,

      righting it just in time.

      “Crab cakes, right?” He came around to Nancy's

      side.

      “Yes.” She grabbed onto her own glass. “A night

      cruise sounds cool.”

      “Oh, it is cool,” Scott agreed enthusiastically. “The

      city lights reflecting in the harbor water are

      spectacular.”

      George speared a bite of salmon. “Sounds good to

      me. When does the boat leave?”

      “Nine o'clock. The Baltimore Lady is docked right in

      front of the hotel, so you'll have plenty of time. Is there

      anything else I can get you?”

      “No thanks,” Nancy said.

      “I'll be back in a bit to make sure everything's okay.”

      When he bustled off, George giggled. “A little


      overeager, don't you think?”

      “Maybe he gets a kickback from any tourist he steers

      to the cruise.” Nancy took a bite of the crab cake.

      “Umm. Heavenly.”

      Half an hour later, they finished eating, and Scott

      brought them their check. “I get off in fifteen

      minutes,” he told them. “Maybe I'll join you on the

      tour boat.”

      “That would be fun,” Nancy said, meaning it. In

      between waiting on customers, he'd told them a lot of

      interesting facts about Baltimore.

      After they paid their check, Nancy and George went

      into the lobby and out the front doors. The harbor and

      all its attractions were right across the street. Nancy

      could see the Baltimore Lady from the front of the

      hotel.

      Fifteen minutes later, Nancy and George had

      bought tickets and were boarding the cruise ship. It

      was crowded with groups and couples.

      “I don't see Scott,” Nancy said, glancing around at

      the other passengers.

      “Do I detect disappointment?” George teased as

      they made their way to an upper deck. Nancy leaned

      over the railing. The water of the harbor shimmered

      like black glass. As Scott had promised, the lights of the

      buildings were reflected clearly in it.

      “Nancy! George!” someone called a few minutes

      later. Nancy turned to see Scott weaving through the

      crowd. He'd taken off his waiter's jacket and had put

      on a crewneck sweater. “Glad I made it.”

      “Is the dinner shift already over?” Nancy asked.

      Scott grimaced. “I've been waiting tables since

      lunch. I only filled in tonight because one of the

      waitresses was sick. The big dinner rush was over, so

      the manager let me leave early.”

      “Good. You can be our unofficial tour guide,”

      George said. A loud blast from the ship's horn made

      Nancy turn back around. Slowly, the Baltimore Lady

      pulled away from the wharf.

      For the next half hour, Scott, Nancy, and George

      enjoyed the cruise. A band played on the enclosed

      middle deck. A bar served soft drinks on the open top

      deck. The three spent most of their time hanging over

      the railing, watching the sights and discussing

      filmmaking and pirates.

      When they returned to the wharf area, Scott said

      goodnight. “I've got to work dinner shift tomorrow, so

      maybe I'll see you then.”

      After Nancy and George said goodbye, they headed

      for the elevator. Their room was on the third floor.

      Nancy was exhausted. “I thought the sea air was

      supposed to be invigorating,” she said, stifling a yawn.

      “That must be an old pirate's tale,” George said.

      When they reached their room, the girls quickly

      changed into their pajamas and crawled into bed. They

      were both asleep by ten.

      Loud voices woke Nancy up. She blinked her eyes,

      trying to figure out where the voices were coming

      from. Sitting up, she oriented herself to the dark hotel

      room.

      She glanced toward the door. Several people were

      chattering in the hall. Nancy checked the digital clock

      on the table between the two beds. Two in the

      morning. Must be late-night partygoers, she decided.

      Lying back down, she pulled the covers to her chin

      and shut her eyes. Several people hurried down the

      hall, their feet thumping on the carpet. Then the voices

      grew louder.

      Holding her breath, Nancy listened closely. The

      voices sounded worried and urgent. Then Nancy heard

      the unmistakable squawk of a walkie-talkie.

      Her eyes snapped open. Those were definitely not

      late-night partiers. Climbing from bed, she tiptoed to

      the door and listened.

      “Lab techs will be right here,” someone was saying.

      “Officer Kelsey, you need to get statements from

      everyone on the hall.”

      “Can't this wait until morning?” a shrill voice

      protested. “I can't have you waking our guests in the

      middle of the night.”

      Like your shouting isn't going to wake us up first,

      Nancy thought.

      “No, it can't wait,” the first voice answered firmly.

      “The sooner we find our burglar, the sooner we can

      return the stolen goods to your guests.”

      Burglar! Nancy's eyes widened.

      “Nancy!” George hissed from her bed. “What's going

      on?”

      “Sounds like some of the rooms on our hall were

      burglarized,” Nancy explained, flicking on the

      bathroom light. “The police are out there. I'm getting

      dressed to go see what's going on.”

      “Wait for me!” George exclaimed as she leaped out

      of bed.

      Nancy pulled on a shirt and jeans, then opened the

      door and went into the hall. The bright lights

      momentarily blinded her, and she stood for a second to

      get her bearings.

      Several police officers were standing in the hall.

      Nancy counted three doors wide open with yellow

      crime tape stretched across each door. In front of one

      door, a tall man in a sport coat was talking to the hotel

      concierge, who was wringing his hands worriedly.

      “Find your guests other rooms for the night,” the

      man was saying. “But first, they'll need to inventory

      their things and tell us exactly what was taken. As soon

      as the lab techs are finished, they can have their other

      suitcases.”

      The concierge threw up his hands in dismay. “This

      has never before happened at the Harborside,” he said.

      “Our guests will not be pleased.”

      The concierge was turning to go when he caught

      sight of Nancy. “See? You have awakened a guest

      already!”

      He hurried over to Nancy. “Miss, I apologize for the

      inconvenience. Please, we will get you a room on

      another hall.”

      “No, that's okay, really,” Nancy said.

      “We're used to robbery and mayhem,” George

      added as she came out of the room to stand beside

      Nancy. She'd hurriedly dressed, too, slipping on a

      sweatshirt and jeans.

      The concierge gave them a puzzled look, then

      bustled to intercept another guest. Walking down the

      hall, Nancy peered into the first taped-off room. A

      suitcase had been emptied onto the floor. Pillows,

      clothes, and shoes were strewn around.

      “What a mess,” George said. “The robbers must

      have been in a hurry.”

      “They were probably hunting for cash and jewelry,”

      Nancy told George. “Though they missed some,” she

      added, catching sight of something gold and glittery on

      the bed. When she looked closer, she realized with a

      jolt what it was—a gold doubloon, exactly like the ones

      from the ship!

      4. Suspicion Onboard

      What was a gold doubloon doing in the hotel room?

      Nancy wondered. Did it belong to the guests in that

      room? Had the thieves dropped it?

      “Excuse me.”

      Startled, Nancy whirled, and found herself face-to-


      face with the tall man in the sport coat.

      “I'm Detective Jackson Weller from the Robbery

      Unit of the Baltimore Police Department,” he said to

      Nancy and George. “What room are you ladies staying

      in?” he asked as he took a pad and pen from his coat

      pocket.

      “Room thirty-four,” Nancy said. “How many rooms

      were burglarized?”

      “Three. Did either of you hear anything unusual?”

      George and Nancy shook their heads. “We were

      sound asleep until voices woke us,” Nancy added.

      “What time did you go to your room?”

      “About ten,” George replied. “We took the nine

      o'clock cruise on the Baltimore Lady. It was over about

      nine forty-five. It took us about fifteen minutes to get

      back to the room. Yup. Ten.” George nodded

      emphatically. “And we didn't see anyone else in the

      hall or hear any strange noises. Right, Nancy?”

      “Right,” Nancy said.

      Detective Weller cocked one brow. “You two seem

      awfully sure of your every movement,” he said

      suspiciously.

      Nancy suppressed a grin. “That's because I'm a

      detective. George has helped me with a lot of cases, so

      we know the drill.” She held out her hand. “Nancy

      Drew from River Heights. This is my friend, George

      Fayne.”

      Ignoring Nancy's hand, Weller wrote down their

      names, muttering, “Must be a detective convention at

      the hotel or something.”

      Nancy could tell he wasn't convinced they were

      telling the truth. Her gaze flicked to the gold doubloon

      on the bed. Since it was in plain sight, the police must

      have noticed it. Sooner or later, they were sure to trace

      it to the Swift Adventure, she concluded.

      “You heard or saw nothing unusual,” Weller

      persisted.

      “No,” Nancy told him. “We were tired. When we

      came up in the elevator to our floor, there was no one

      else around. So, what was stolen?” she asked curiously.

      “We can't give out that kind of information.” Putting

      his hand firmly on her elbow, he steered her toward

      the door. “Thank you very much, Ms. Drew and Ms.

      Fayne. If you think of anything else, please call me at

      this number.” He handed Nancy a card, then headed

      toward the concierge, who was talking to a couple

      wearing bathrobes.

      “He's not very friendly,” George commented when

      they went into their rooms. “And he sure looked at us

      suspiciously.”

      “I can't blame him,” Nancy said. “This isn't River

     


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