The Clue on the Crystal Dove, Page 3

  wearing her clothes. Almost twelve, she thought,

  glancing at her watch. I hope Alden's asleep by now.

  Climbing off her narrow bed as the train rumbled

  and swayed, Nancy pulled out her duffel bag from

  under the sofa below. After fishing through it for a

  moment, she drew out a flashlight, then quietly slipped

  out of the compartment while Bess and George slept.

  Nancy walked down the deserted train corridors,

  keeping an eye out for any signs of activity. The interior

  lights had been dimmed, and Nancy's shadow loomed

  large beside her as she tiptoed along.

  After moving through the empty dining car, Nancy

  came to the sleeping car in front of Julius's coach. The

  corridor seemed endless as she hurried down it,

  expecting Alden to fling open his compartment door at

  any moment.

  To her relief, she reached the end of the car undis-

  turbed and slid open the outside door. For a moment

  Nancy stood between the cars, listening to the train

  chugging and bouncing over the tracks in the late night

  emptiness. Out the window, vast fields slid by in the

  moonlight, as flat and dark as lake water.

  Once in Julius's car, Nancy flicked on her flashlight

  and moved toward the bed. After pulling the wooden

  handle just as Alden had done, Nancy eased the bed

  out of its nook until it lay on the sofa. She pushed on

  the panel carved with the eagle and held her breath as

  it slid open.

  As Nancy shone her flashlight into the dark space, a

  jolt of surprise shot through her. The letters were gone!

  A sudden crunching noise sounded from outside—

  from the rear of the train, Nancy thought.

  She flicked off her flashlight, shut the secret panel,

  then lifted the bed back into its nook. By the light of

  the moon pouring in through the windows, Nancy

  decided to take a quick peek at the platform at the very

  end of the car—and the train. She made her way to the

  door and cupped her hands next to her face. Pressing

  her nose against the glass, she peered outside.

  A short elderly woman in a lacy nightgown stood on

  the narrow platform behind the door. The wind

  whipped through her violet-tinted white hair as she

  held her face up to the brilliant night sky.

  Nancy slid the door open as quietly as she could.

  Outside, silver-colored train tracks streamed behind

  them as the train glided through the silent countryside.

  The woman stepped closer to the edge of the plat-

  form, and Nancy's heart leaped into her throat.

  The woman was about to jump!

  4. Disaster before Dinner

  Nancy bit her lip, worried that any sound could startle

  the woman into falling. With her leg propping the door

  open, she leaned forward. Then, in a lightning-quick

  motion, she grabbed the woman by the wrist and

  yanked her back to safety.

  The woman stared at Nancy, her pale, wrinkled face

  a mask of absolute shock. Without wasting another

  second, Nancy pulled her inside the car.

  “I'm sorry,” Nancy began. “I didn't mean to scare

  you, but you were right on the edge of the train plat-

  form. I was worried you were going to fall.”

  The woman swiped her forehead with the back of

  her hand as if brushing cobwebs from her mind. “Oh,

  my dear,” the woman said in a quavery voice. “I had no

  idea. Thank you so much. I believe you saved my life.”

  “I'm glad I saw you there,” Nancy said.

  “Yes, and in the nick of time,” the woman pro-

  nounced. She shook her head as if trying to wake

  herself. “It's the most peculiar thing—I haven't the

  slightest idea why I went out there.”

  “You don't?” Nancy said.

  “Well, I hadn't realized I'd left my bed, much less

  landed myself in such a dangerous situation,” she went

  on airily. “I guess I must have been sleepwalking. It's a

  frequent affliction of mine, though I'm terribly

  embarrassed to admit it.”

  The tiny woman, who came up to Nancy's chin,

  stared at Nancy with round, childlike blue eyes. With

  her thin, knobby fingers, she smoothed down her wispy

  lavender-tinted hair, which had puffed out like cotton

  candy from the wind outside.

  Nancy studied the woman's wizened face, which

  seemed almost as fragile and crinkly as parchment.

  There was something innocent and endearing about

  her, Nancy thought, and she seemed totally sincere

  when she claimed she had been sleepwalking. Still, the

  woman could have been in Julius's coach around the

  time that the papers had vanished. She could have

  stashed them someplace and then hidden outside the

  moment she heard someone coming. Her sleepwalking

  could be an act.

  Nancy glanced around Julius's coach, searching for

  signs of pillows or cushions having been hastily

  rearranged. Everything looked exactly as it had when

  she had been in the car earlier. She was itching to look

  around now, but there was no way she could gracefully

  start searching for the letters as long as the old woman

  stayed with her.

  The old woman sighed. “If you hadn't come along,

  my dear, I might have woken up as I fell from the train.

  I would have thought I was having a nightmare, and

  then realized, all too late, that it was true.” She

  shuddered, clasping her arms against her thin body.

  “I think you would have woken up before you fell,”

  Nancy said soothingly, even though she wasn't con-

  vinced. “But aren't you cold standing here? Maybe you

  should go back to your compartment to get some

  sleep.” Nancy picked up her flashlight, which she'd

  placed on Julius's desk before opening the rear door.

  “Yes, that's a splendid idea,” the woman said, lightly

  touching Nancy's arm. “Would you be kind enough to

  help me back to my compartment, my dear? I'm

  feeling a bit feeble.” Before Nancy could reply, the

  woman hooked her arm through Nancy's and led her

  toward the front of Julius's car.

  Nancy was surprised at the old woman's strength as

  they made their way along the length of the coach.

  She's pulling me instead of letting me help her, Nancy

  observed—maybe she's just trying to get me out of

  Julius's coach so I won't find his letters.

  Nancy smiled weakly as the woman thanked her for

  her support. “And now, my dear,” the woman said as

  they stopped outside her compartment in the next car,

  “there's something I'm curious to know. What were

  you doing in the Van Hoogstraten coach so late at

  night?”

  For a moment Nancy was taken aback by the

  question. But then a plausible excuse flashed into her

  mind. “Uh, I lost my keys. I was looking for them in all

  the places I went tonight,” she fudged. “Since I was on

  a tour of the car earlier, I thought I might have

  dropped them in there.”

  “Aha! We
ll, I saw no keys. But, of course, I was in no

  condition to observe things either during or after my

  unfortunate sleepwalking spell.” When she cocked her

  head she reminded Nancy of a curious bird. “Did you

  find them, by the way?”

  “I didn't have a chance to look,” Nancy told her,

  smiling.

  “Because you were busy rescuing me,” the woman

  said knowingly. “I'm so sorry to have inconvenienced

  you, my dear. Take my advice and ask the conductor

  tomorrow morning whether someone turned them in.

  All the people I've met on this train seem terribly

  helpful. And now, where is your compartment? Let me

  watch you make your way back to it so I can repay your

  kind favors to me.”

  “That's not necessary,” Nancy began.

  “Ah, but it is,” the woman said firmly, a half-smile

  playing about her lips. “Women need to watch out for

  one another, you know.”

  Nancy had no choice but to return to her compart-

  ment. Once there, she was too tired to sneak back to

  hunt for Julius's letters, especially when there was only

  a small chance that she would find them. Lying back on

  her bed, she relaxed to the chugging rhythm of the

  train and was rocked to sleep in minutes.

  “I never knew train food could include chocolate-

  chip pancakes,” Bess said happily as she poured syrup

  over the steaming mound on her plate. “Am I in

  heaven, or what?”

  “These waffles aren't bad, either,” George pro-

  nounced as she dug into them eagerly. “Now, Nan,

  fess up. I woke briefly last night and saw that you

  weren't in bed. Did you sneak into Julius's coach to

  read his letters?”

  Between mouthfuls of French toast, Nancy told Bess

  and George about her adventures the night before.

  “Do you see the old lady now?” Bess asked, scanning

  the dining car.

  Nancy looked around. “Nope. I haven't seen her yet

  today. I'll point her out if I do.”

  “It's no big deal,” Bess said with a shrug. “She might

  have gotten off at an earlier stop, anyway.”

  “With Julius's letters?” George asked wryly.

  “But why would she have wanted to steal his let-

  ters?” Bess wondered.

  At that moment Alden trooped into the car, dressed

  in his signature white tie and tails. He stopped at the

  girls' table and greeted them wearily. “I'm slaving away

  on these confounded tours until the moment we reach

  New York this afternoon,” he said, “but I'm counting

  on seeing you at my cousin's party tonight.”

  “We'll be there,” Bess assured him cheerfully.

  “New York City, next stop,” the conductor an-

  nounced as he marched down the corridor outside the

  girls' compartment. “New York City, Penn Station, in

  approximately five minutes.”

  George heaved her backpack into the corridor while

  Bess frantically tried to zip up a suitcase that Nancy

  held closed. “I can't get it,” Bess moaned. “I guess the

  pants that I had on yesterday take up more room than

  this skirt.”

  Nancy studied Bess's sleek black knee-length skirt,

  turquoise tank top, and platform sandals. Her long

  blond hair was pulled back into an elegant French

  braid. “You look great, Bess,” Nancy told her, “as if

  you've lived in New York all your life.”

  “You think so?” Bess said, brightening. She gave her

  zipper a final, successful tug. “You don't think people

  will guess I'm really from River Heights?”

  “You'll fit in for sure at Dell's party tonight with all

  those sophisticated people, Bess,” George said ap-

  provingly. “If you don't pull a muscle from lugging all

  your suitcases around.”

  “We'll just have to get a Red Cap,” Bess said.

  The whistle blew as the train pulled into the station.

  As soon as the girls stepped off the train, Nancy hailed

  a Bed Cap, who led them through the bustling station

  and up to the taxi stand.

  “I always feel so full of energy here,” Nancy com-

  mented as their suitcases were being loaded into a

  taxicab. The girls climbed into the cab, which wasted

  no time in speeding them toward their destination.

  Nancy gazed around at the enormous skyscrapers

  and swelling crowds of people who pushed their way

  around the city streets. The air was filled with the

  sound of honking horns, the subway rumbling un-

  derground, and loud exclamations in many different

  languages.

  “It's a great place to visit, but I don't see how people

  enjoy living here,” George said, staring at the noisy

  crowds thronging the streets. “I mean, it's so crowded,

  and I bet the cost of joining an athletic club is

  awesomely expensive.”

  “But there's no other place as exciting,” Bess said,

  her blue eyes sparkling as she glanced at all the shops.

  Ten minutes later the taxi drove down a leafy side

  street. It stopped outside a large brick apartment

  building. After paying the cab, Nancy, George, and

  Bess carried their luggage into the building and on to

  the elevator. Seconds later they were standing outside

  Nancy's aunt Eloise's apartment.

  The door opened before Nancy even had a chance

  to ring the bell. A tall, elegant woman in her early

  forties enveloped Nancy in a huge hug.

  “I thought I heard your voices outside,” she said

  warmly, drawing away from Nancy to greet Bess and

  George. “Come on in, girls. The guest room is all ready

  for you.” Smoothing back her shining brown hair, Aunt

  Eloise led the girls to their room.

  After they were settled, Nancy, George, and Bess

  joined Nancy's aunt for a cup of tea in her kitchen.

  Studying their faces, Eloise Drew declared, “You girls

  look great—it's wonderful to see you all. I hope you

  remember that my friend Delphinia has invited us all

  to a dinner dance at her house tonight. It's to celebrate

  the opening of the Van Hoogstraten Collection next

  week.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George told her about meeting

  Alden Guest on the train. After helping her wash the

  teacups, they returned to their room to unpack,

  shower, and dress for the party.

  Promptly at seven Nancy, Bess, and George gath-

  ered in Nancy's aunt's spacious living room, wearing

  their long evening gowns.

  “Nancy, that peach silk looks absolutely lovely with

  your strawberry blond hair!” Aunt Eloise exclaimed.

  “And, George, what marvelous material is your dress

  made out of?”

  George fingered the skirt of her glittery silver dress.

  “It's something stretchy that doesn't wrinkle— even

  after two days in a backpack.”

  “And, Bess,” Aunt Eloise went on, “black satin looks

  smashing on you.”

  “Thanks,” Bess said, pleased. “Black seems like a

  New York thing, and I wanted to fit in.”

/>   After showing off her own green chiffon dress, Aunt

  Eloise escorted the girls downstairs and into a taxi.

  Minutes later they arrived at the Van Hoogstraten

  mansion on Gramercy Park. Surrounded by an elegant

  wrought iron fence, Gramercy Park was a lush,

  manicured garden in the midst of a quiet square.

  Stately old houses and apartment buildings looked onto

  the park, but the biggest house of all was the Van

  Hoogstratens'.

  “What an awesome place!” Bess cried as she stepped

  out of the cab into the soft June evening.

  Nancy had to agree. Set back from the sidewalk

  behind a wrought iron fence, the enormous limestone

  mansion with its intricately carved lintels and columns

  was magnificent. Its multitude of windows were

  glowing with yellow light, and the house seemed to

  welcome visitors to its grand mahogany doors like a

  queen presiding over a royal banquet.

  “This house has twenty bedrooms,” Aunt Eloise

  whispered as they rang the front doorbell, “not

  counting the servants' wing.”

  A liveried butler opened the door and ushered them

  inside. Nancy gazed in awe at her surroundings.

  Groups of elegantly dressed men and women stood in a

  huge marble foyer, chatting in low voices while a swing

  orchestra was playing in the nearby ballroom. A marble

  staircase swept up to the second floor, flanked by huge

  bronze candlesticks at its base.

  An enormous crystal chandelier hung in the center

  of the foyer, and paintings that looked as if they had

  been painted by Renaissance masters hung in gilded

  frames on the walls. Antique furniture and porcelain

  brightened the room. The mansion seemed almost

  alive, as if it had participated in raising several

  generations of one family. Still, it was so vast that

  Nancy couldn't believe that Dell could have been

  happy living in it alone.

  To the left of the door was a sturdy walnut desk that

  Nancy guessed had been set up for the museum—for

  ticket sales, information leaflets, and the like.

  “Eloise!” a woman's voice cried out. “How won-

  derful to see you.” A tall brown-haired woman around

  Aunt Eloise's age glided over to them wearing a gold

  silk dress. She had wide cheekbones, an angular face,

  and a poised manner.

  “Dell!” Aunt Eloise said, embracing her friend.

  “Please meet my niece, Nancy Drew, and her friends,