kitchenware, clothes, and even some shoes.”
In a low voice Nancy said to Bess and George, “Let's
talk about the bridge thing later, guys. I don't want to
worry Aunt Eloise.”
Nancy smiled. “Bess went shopping, too—in
SoHo—while George and I took a stroll across the
Brooklyn Bridge. And earlier we saw Dell.”
“Oh, really? How is she?”
Nancy filled her aunt in about the strange things
that had happened at Dell's house, including Walter's
disappearance.
Her aunt's face clouded over. “I understand that you
want to investigate the case, Nancy. You are a de-
tective, after all. But please be careful. This person
sounds dangerous.”
Nancy promised she would be careful. Then she
explained that she, George, and Bess were going out
for the evening to S.O.I. “Sounds like fun,” her aunt
said. “I'm going to call Dell and tell her I'll do whatever
I can to help Walter.”
Half an hour later Nancy, George, and Bess were
sitting at a table at S.O.I., sipping sodas. A crowd of
young people filed into the club, taking seats at sur-
rounding tables. Some had dreadlocks like John and
Avery, while others looked punk with brightly dyed
hair and black leather clothes. Still others appeared to
be young working professionals. All of them, Nancy
thought, seemed eager to see the show.
Nancy checked her watch and said, “It's a quarter of
eight—fifteen minutes till the band comes on.”
Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and
added, “It feels great to sit back and relax after such a
crazy day. Thank goodness John and Avery came along
when they did.”
“You're telling me,” George said. “Speaking of our
crazy day what do you make of the case so far, Nancy?
I mean, who doesn't want the Van Hoogstraten
Collection opened to the public—and why?”
“And why was poor Walter kidnapped?” Bess
chimed in.
Nancy pushed her hair behind her ears as she
thought. “Well, whoever is doing all this must realize
I'm investigating the case or I wouldn't have been
pushed off the bridge. And since Dell, Alden, Violet,
and Mr. Schoonover knew our plans this afternoon,
they're our top suspects.”
“That seems right,” George agreed. “Also, Violet was
at the scene of some of the weird things that happened,
like when the papers were taken from Julius's secret
panel, and she climbed up that ladder to the
chandelier.”
“Plus, she brought in the pile of mail with the
anonymous note in it,” Bess pointed out. “But what
makes me curious is—why would she be doing all
this?”
“Maybe because she doesn't want Dell to get mar-
ried and move away from New York,” Nancy guessed.
“She mentioned to me that she and Dell had always
been close, and New York City won't be the same for
her after Dell moves away.”
“So if Dell's house doesn't become a museum, what
would happen to it if she moves to Boston?” George
wondered.
“It would either be empty, or the Van Hoogstratens
would have to sell it,” Nancy said, “and Dell might not
want to do either of those things.”
“Yeah, maybe Violet thinks that if she nixes the
museum plan, Dell will change her mind about moving
to Boston,” George said.
“Hmm,” Bess began, “Violet wasn't at the house
when Walter disappeared—I wonder if she has an alibi
for that time?”
“Even if she doesn't have one, it wouldn't matter,”
Nancy said. “Violet is so old and frail, I can't see her
kidnapping Walter and attacking Mr. Schoonover. I
suppose she could have hired someone to do all that
stuff for her.”
“But why would she have taken the crystal bird?”
Bess asked.
Nancy shrugged. “Who knows? But then, why would
Alden or Dell have taken it? They're suspects, too.”
opportunity to steal the papers on the train, just as
Violet did. He could have cut the chandelier chain
after Violet left the room yesterday—he admitted to
being at the house when the ladder was up. Plus, he's
strong enough to have attacked Mr. Schoonover and
kidnapped Walter on his own.”
“I don't know, George,” Bess said, twirling a strand
of long blond hair around her forefinger. “I mean,
everything you just said is true, but I think you're being
a little hard on the guy. Why would Alden want to close
the museum? He's the publicity director. He's devoting
two weeks of his vacation to promoting the place.”
Nancy took another sip of her soda. “Alden doesn't
really have a motive,” she agreed. “But Mr. Schoonover
does, since he's so jealous of Julius's reputation.”
“Julius will probably become world famous the
minute everyone discovers how great his birds are,”
George remarked. “That's going to drive Mr. Schoon-
over ballistic. He'd do anything to keep people from
knowing about Julius and talking up his work.”
Nancy cast her mind back to their conversation with
Alden on the train. “Remember when Alden told us
that only a couple of glass experts have ever seen
Julius's birds? So not that many people know about
him. But if a bunch of modern critics see the birds and
rave about how great they are, everyone will know
about Julius.”
“A nightmare for Mr. Schoonover,” Bess pro-
nounced. Leaning her cheek on her hand, she added,
“I can see why Mr. Schoonover may have taken the
crystal dove—it's probably really valuable and he could
sell it to a glass collector through his store.”
“Good thinking, Bess,” Nancy said approvingly.
“Now, what about Dell?” George said, changing the
subject. “I know she heard us make plans to walk on
the Brooklyn Bridge, but does it really make sense that
she's a suspect? I mean, why would she want to ruin
her own museum?”
Nancy chewed her lip, thinking. “Maybe she's hop-
ing to manipulate Walter into living with her in the
mansion instead of in Boston. We just mentioned that
if the Van Hoogstraten Collection can't open, Dell
might not want to leave the house empty or sell it.”
“Yeah, but Dell was with us when Walter was kid-
napped,” Bess declared. “And she wasn't on the train
when the papers disappeared.”
“Neither was Mr. Schoonover,” George said. “You
know, Dell could have an accomplice. She sure has
enough money to hire someone.”
Before Nancy could comment, the John Avery
Quartet filed on to the stage from behind a curtain and
took up their places. Nancy noticed that Avery played
drums, while John played bass guitar. Another man
carried a trumpet, w
hile still another sat down in front
of a piano. The audience buzzed with anticipation as
the band checked their instruments.
Cupping her hand beside her mouth, Nancy whis-
pered, “I have this major feeling that Julius's missing
papers and the crystal dove are important clues to the
case. I'm going to do some research on the history of
the dove tomorrow.”
George gave her the thumbs-up sign, while Bess
nodded eagerly. Then the band launched into a song,
and the club was immediately quiet. Tapping her foot
in time to the rhythmic beat, Nancy stopped thinking
about the case for a few hours while she lost herself in
the music.
* * *
“So how are you going to research the history of that
dove, Nancy?” Bess asked as Nancy, Bess, and George
piled out of a cab in front of the Van Hoogstraten
mansion the next morning.
“I'm going to see if Dell has any of Julius's old letters
and papers,” Nancy replied. “You never know— maybe
there's some information in them about the dove that
will give us a clue.”
Standing outside the huge oak doors of the house,
Nancy rang the bell. Seconds later the door flew open.
Walter Lang stared at her grimly from the foyer.
“Excuse me, Nancy,” Walter said in a clipped tone.
“Please let me by.”
With his gaze set and his lips pressed firmly to-
gether, Walter brushed past Nancy, George, and Bess
and raced down the flight of marble steps to the
sidewalk below. Nancy quickly lost sight of him as he
threaded his way east among a crowd of other
pedestrians.
“Walter?” George said, sounding stunned.
“Am I seeing things?” Bess murmured.
Dell appeared at the door. “What's the story with
Wal—” Nancy began, then stopped at the sight of
Dell's stricken face. Tears glistened at the corners of
her eyes, and her mouth trembled as she invited the
girls inside.
Dell led the way to a cozy sitting room off the foyer.
“Alden and I have been using this room as the museum
office,” Dell explained as she motioned for the girls to
sit down on a sofa. “It's where we've been working on
museum press releases and finances and stuff like
that.” She took a tissue from a box on a desk and blew
her nose as she eased herself into an armchair.
“Tell us about Walter, Dell,” Nancy asked. “Obvi-
ously, he's back.”
“In a manner of speaking,” Dell said mournfully.
Taking a deep sigh, she explained, “I was eating
breakfast in the kitchen this morning when the front
doorbell rang. I nearly fainted with surprise when I
opened the door and saw Walter. I was so happy that I
threw myself into his arms, but—” She paused,
dabbing at her eyes with another tissue. “Oh, it's too
embarrassing—I can't go on.”
Nancy felt a pang as she watched Dell bite her lip to
keep from crying. “You don't have to be embarrassed
in front of us, Dell,” she said gently.
“Oh, I know, Nancy.” Dell sniffed, forcing her lips
into a smile. “Thanks for the reassurance. Anyway, I
have to tell you what happened because if you're going
to solve this case, you'll need to know all the details.”
Dell took a deep breath and continued, “I knew right
away that something was wrong when Walter came in
today. He's always been very affectionate, but when I
tried to hug him, he pulled away from me. And every
time I tried to look him in the eyes, he averted his
gaze. It was weird.”
“Oh, Dell—how awful!” Bess said sympathetically.
“It was awful,” Dell said. “Walter kept me at arm's
length and looked at me as if I were a total stranger.
Then he told me that we needed to talk. My heart was
hammering as I followed him into the kitchen, but
somehow I managed to ask him where he'd been and if
he was all right.”
“What did he say?” Nancy asked.
“Just as we suspected, he'd been kidnapped, but he
refused to tell me who had done it,” Dell replied. “He
said it didn't matter because he was okay. He even
asked me to call off the police. And then—”
Dell paused, her face tightening as she added, “He
broke off our engagement!”
“No!” Bess said, looking stricken.
“Oh, Dell, I'm so sorry,” Nancy said, while George
shook her head gravely.
“He told me that he still loved me,” Dell explained,
“but he thought our backgrounds were too different for
the marriage to work.”
“Your backgrounds are too different?” George
echoed, sounding puzzled. “What does he mean by
that?”
Dell shook her head, clearly bewildered. “Walter
comes from more modest beginnings and he went to
college on a scholarship, but we definitely have the
same interests. I mean, we like the same people and
books and movies and restaurants—all that stuff. And
we both love animals and the outdoors. He thinks he'll
be taking me away from my house and my fancy life,
but I want to live more like a regular person, anyway.”
Gesturing around the room with her hand, she
added, “I never asked for any of this. Sure, the house is
beautiful, but so what? I don't want to live like some
relic in a museum. All I want is Walter.”
Nancy sighed. It was true that Dell lived in a
spectacular house, but what was the point if she was
lonely? “So Walter didn't say anything about how he
got kidnapped?” she asked.
“Nope,” Dell said, “and he was adamant that we call
off the police. He claimed he was harmlessly detained,
and he totally refused to go into any details.”
Nancy sat forward, cupping her chin in her hands.
“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully, “if you ask me, Dell, the
person who kidnapped Walter probably talked him into
breaking off the engagement.”
“Why do you think that, Nancy?” Dell asked.
“Because the kidnapper is probably the same person
who wants to keep the Van Hoogstraten Collection
from opening,” Nancy declared. “And that person
wants you to break up with Walter so you'll stay in your
house and it won't become a museum.”
“I'll bet you're right, Nancy,” Bess chimed in.
Looking at Dell, she added fervently, “You said Walter
said he still loves you, so someone must have forced
him to break things off. I just know it, Dell.”
Dell brightened. “Do you really think so?” she
asked, looking expectantly at all three girls.
Nancy smiled. “I really think so,” she said.
Nancy cast her mind back to the conversation at
S.O.I., when she had wondered whether Dell might be
the person who wanted to jinx the museum. She had
thought that Dell might be trying to manipulate Walter
&
nbsp; into moving into her New York house. But looking at
Dell's hopeful eyes, Nancy couldn't believe that she
would do such a thing to Walter, whom she obviously
loved. And even if Dell was a really good liar, Nancy
thought, how would kidnapping Walter and then
letting him go get her what she wanted?
Nancy stood up. “I'm sure that the sooner I solve
this case, the sooner you and Walter will patch things
up.”
Squaring her shoulders, Dell looked Nancy in the
eye. “How can I help you, Nancy?” she asked.
“Do you have any old letters or papers of Julius's?”
Nancy asked.
“Hmm,” Dell said. “I've been sending things to
storage in Boston this past month as I've gotten ready
to move—mainly old family letters and stuff. But
there's one box of legal documents I haven't dealt with
yet. It's in a storeroom on the third floor. I'm not sure
what you'll find in it, but let's hope for the best.”
Dell led the three girls to a dusty room on the third
floor of the house. In a corner was a box marked Old
Family Documents in black marking pen.
“I'm beat, girls,” Dell announced, stifling a yawn.
“The stress of Walter's leaving has been too much for
me. Do you mind if I go downstairs and rest? Let me
know if you need anything else.”
Nancy assured her they'd be fine and encouraged
her to take a well-deserved break. After Dell had left,
Nancy, George, and Bess began sorting through the old
yellow documents. Some of them were leases and
deeds that were no longer relevant. Others were old
marriage licenses and birth certificates.
Scanning the documents, Nancy's heart sank with
disappointment. Nothing in them suggested a clue to
the case.
Bess and George rummaged around at the bottom
of the box, making sure they hadn't missed anything
important. “What's this?” Bess wondered, drawing out
a thick official-looking document and handing it to
Nancy.
Nancy frowned as she concentrated on the graceful
script at the top of the page that read, “From the
Estate of Julius Van Hoogstraten: His Personal
Property as of May 10, 1915.”
“This looks like a list of Julius's furniture and stuff
after he died,” Nancy said, reading the columns
describing furniture, jewelry, and cars. She turned a
page. “Oh, here's a list of his birds.”
Nancy read down the list until her gaze fell upon the