Tags:
Fiction,
Family,
Juvenile Fiction,
Detective and Mystery Stories,
Girls,
Mystery Fiction,
Twins,
Siblings,
Detectives,
Missing Persons,
Mystery and detective stories,
Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character),
Teenage Girl Detectives,
Girl Detectives,
Theft,
models,
Fashion,
Fashion Shows,
Teenage Detectives,
Stealing
them through the crowd, pausing to make introductions.
“I know Reese creations when I see them,” declared one man, handsome with a long cap of white hair. “Aren’t you going to tell me who these mystery ladies are, Richard?”
But the designer pretended not to hear and joined two other men less than a foot away. The girls, however, hung back to talk with the white-haired man. They practically froze when he announced his name.
“I’m Arnaud Hans,” he said.
The designer under whose name the Reese gowns had appeared in the Chalmers catalog! No wonder Mr. Reese had ignored him!
When the young detectives finally gave their names, Hans seemed to recognize Nancy’s.
“I’ve been hearing about you, Miss Drew, that you are doing investigative work for Richard. Well, I want to go on record that I didn’t steal anything from him. He blasted me on the phone the other day, claiming that I had taken some of his spring designs and sold them to Chalmers. It’s not true and I can prove it. I have dated copies of every sketch!”
Nancy was careful not to say too much, but conceded that it was not impossible for the men to have come up with the same ideas.
“Personally, I don’t think Millington stole anything from him, either,” Hans went on. “Other people simply created similar designs before Reese did and he’s angry about it. That’s all. His pride and ego are hurt because he knows he’s slipping.”
“I don’t think he’s slipping at all,” Bess said in Mr. Reese’s defense. “I love this dress.”
“Yes, well, it is pretty, but I think it’s last year‘s,” Hans replied maliciously.
The discussion ended abruptly as Nancy edged the girls away.
“Where are we going?” Bess asked.
“To see Russell Kaiser,” Nancy said.
“Mr. Kaiser’s here?” the cousins replied in astonishment.
“Not the real one,” their friend whispered. “Ted Henri’s buddy, Pete Grover. Here he comes.”
When he saw the trio, he greeted them with enthusiasm. “What a pleasant surprise,” he said.
“We read about the burglary,” George put in.
“Burglary?” the man stumbled.
“Yes, in your apartment,” Bess said.
“Oh, oh, of course, that burglary.” He laughed nervously. “Let’s not talk about such a dreary subject,” he said. “As a matter of fact, Nancy, I had planned to give you a call about the man who bought my uncle’s medallion at Speers.”
“You have a lead on him?” Nancy inquired.
“No,” the man replied. “But I wanted to find out if you knew anything.”
“Well, I haven’t spoken to him since that evening,” Nancy said, “but I think I know where to find him.”
“You do? Oh-that’s wonderful. You must tell me all about him. But first let me talk to my friend Bob over there. I’ve been trying to get hold of him all evening. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
With that, Grover turned and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd. The girls were convinced he had just used his friend as an excuse and that he would try to avoid them for the rest of the evening.
A moment later Nancy caught sight of Grover behind a silver birch tree again. Another man in a tuxedo was with him. Wondering who he was, Nancy darted away from the cousins, but was stopped short by Sheila Reese’s long, brace leted arm.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” the designer’s wife asked. “Come, I’d like you to meet some friends of ours.”
Nancy did not wish to appear rude, so she followed the woman to a table where her husband and another couple were seated. Bess and George had witnessed the diversion, and to Nancy’s relief, went to follow Grover instead. A few moments later, however, they joined the group at the table.
“We lost him,” George whispered when they sat down.
“Don’t worry,” Nancy whispered back. “At least you tried.”
Just then her elbow accidentally pushed against a glass of water and it fell.
“Oh! ” Nancy cried, quickly righting the glass, but
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