(#16) The Clue of the Tapping Heels (7 page)

“The garage was securely locked,” the actress said. “Someone has a skeleton key, that’s sure. I must have a padlock put on the door. Fortunately my little beauties that are to go to the show had been brought into the house—I wanted to help with the grooming—so they weren’t taken.”

“Did you call the police?” Nancy asked.

“Oh, yes,” Miss Carter answered. “Detective Keely came. He made a thorough search of the grounds and came up with one good clue.”

“What was that?”

“The thief was a short, stocky man who wore spiked golf shoes. There were holes in the ground outside the garage but not inside it,” Miss Carter went on. “Maybe the thief took off his shoes before he went in for the cats, but in any case you couldn’t detect the marks in the hay.”

Nancy asked where the footprints led and learned they crossed the neighbor’s back yard and went out to the street.

The conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Nancy offered to go downstairs and answer it. To her surprise Bess and George stood there. They had borrowed the Marvin car.

“Hi!” they both said, and Bess added, “You didn’t expect us to get back in time for the cat show, did you?”

George grinned. “What’s more, we just couldn’t stay away from the mystery any longer. We didn’t pick up any clues, though, to Gus Woonton.”

“Girls,” said Nancy, “the cat thief was here last night and took five more Persians.”

“Oh, no!” Bess cried out.

“See what happens when we’re not here to guard the garage?” George remarked.

Bess looked sober. Hesitatingly she confessed that on the drive to Berryville she had told George she would not sleep in the garage another night.

“But I guess I’ll have to change my mind,” Bess said. “I’m terribly sorry to hear about the theft.”

“Fortunately the cats to be sold at the cat show today were in the house,” Nancy told her chums.

The three girls went upstairs. “I’m delighted you’re back,” said Miss Carter. Upon learning that the cousins would take up their vigil in the garage that evening, she added, “You’re dolls, both of you.”

Presently Nancy said, “I suppose we should start soon for the cat show. How many miles is it to South Bedford, Miss Carter?”

“I’d say about twenty.”

Hannah Gruen offered to pack a lunch for the girls and went down to the kitchen.

During the next hour Miss Carter directed the preparations for the trip to the show. Five carrying cases were brought into the house. Brushes, eyewash, a bottle of delicately perfumed spray and cans of cat food were packed in a large tote bag. George placed the bag in Nancy’s car and also a sack of kitty litter.

“And don’t forget to take a jug of water and a dish,” Miss Carter said. “Oh dear! I wish so much that I might be there. I hope you have no trouble selling the cats because I really need the money. Oh yes! One more thing. Be sure to put in several paper hankies so you can keep my cats’ mouths and feet immaculately clean.”

Out of sight of Miss Carter, George grinned and whispered to the other girls, “We always have cats at my house. They certainly never get all this attention. They keep themselves groomed!”

Bess giggled. “Mine do too. But then, you and I aren’t in the business of selling cats.”

“Correction,” said George. “Today we are.”

By this time the girls’ lunch was ready. It was put into the car and with wishes of good luck from Hannah, Nancy and the cousins rode off.

When they reached the South Bedford municipal auditorium where the cat show was being held, the girls carried the Persians inside. Nancy stopped at the desk to claim the booth Miss Carter had reserved.

“You have number ten,” the man told Nancy. “As you enter, keep to your right. You’ll find it easily.”

As soon as the cages had been set in place and doors between them opened so the cats might roam around, the girls tacked up a large sign to an overhead beam. It read:

CARTER’S CATS
LOVABLE COMPANIONABLE DECORATIVE
PUREBRED PERSIANS

Visitors to the show began to stop and admire Miss Carter’s cats.

“They’re perfectly beautiful!” one woman exclaimed. “I wish I could buy one, but I travel a great deal and couldn’t take care of it.”

A couple stopped. The woman said to the man, “Oh, Claude dear, I’d love to have one of these. What do you say?”

“Nothing doing,” he answered rather roughly. “Those long-haired cats get hairs all over the place.” He took the woman’s arm and pulled her away from the booth.

Bess sighed. “At this rate maybe we’ll have to take all these cats back home.”

“Don’t be discouraged,” Nancy said. “We’ve been here only fifteen minutes.”

At that moment three judges—two women and a man—walked up and carefully examined Miss Carter’s Persians. A few moments later they went off to confer, then returned, smiling. One of the women placed the “Best in Show” ribbon on Abatha’s cage.

“How wonderful!” Bess exclaimed.

The other woman put a first-place blue ribbon on Rosemond. All the other cats received second-place red awards.

“Congratulations,” said the third judge. “I’m sorry Miss Carter couldn’t be here. Give her my regards—I’m Craig Kendall.”

“I will,” said Nancy. “This will make her very happy.”

After the judges walked away, George suggested the price of the cats be raised, with Abatha having the highest amount. Nancy and Bess agreed.

Many passers-by stopped to praise the beauty of the Persians. One woman asked the price of each. Nancy told her.

“Oh,” she said, “that’s rather high, isn’t it? A man on the other side of the show is selling Persians much cheaper.”

The three girls were interested and a trifle suspicious. George asked the number of the seller’s booth.

“It’s number thirty,” the woman replied. “I remember because I told the man I might be back.”

George told Nancy and Bess she was going over to see the Persian cats, and hurried off. When she returned several minutes later, George was very excited.

“Girls,” she exclaimed, “I’m sure that the five Persian cats in booth thirty are some that were stolen from Miss Carter!”

CHAPTER X

Precarious Climb

AT George’s announcement Nancy and Bess caught their breath. They were sure George was right and decided to look at the Persian cats.

“I found out,” she went on, “that the man had ten, but he has sold five.”

“Nancy,” said Bess, “you go with George. I’ll stay here with our cats.”

The other two hurried off, but as they neared booth thirty, Nancy held George back.

“Don’t you think it would be better if we pretend to be strolling casually and stop to look at the cats?”

“I suppose you’re right,” George agreed.

The girls slowed to a leisurely pace. As they passed the booth, Nancy was sure the cats were Miss Carter’s stolen Persians. They looked exactly the same as the ones the girls were selling.

Nancy studied the man who was in charge. He was short and rather stocky. Was he the one who had worn the spiked golf shoes?

George spoke to the man. “You have some beautiful cats here. I saw them a few minutes ago and went to get my friend. She’s crazy about Persians.”

“Yes, I am,” said Nancy. She asked the price.

When he named it, she said, “Why, that’s cheap for such fine animals. They’re pedigreed, of course?”

“Oh sure,” the man replied.

“Do you have the pedigree papers with you?” Nancy asked.

The man hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “They’re here some place. You buy one of the cats and leave your name and address. I’ll send you the pedigree later.”

Nancy smiled at him. “But I want to see the pedigree before I buy.”

The man’s attitude changed. “If you don’t want to buy on my say-so, don‘t,” he said. “Next customer?” He turned away from the girls, ignoring them completely.

They walked off. “Nancy, what do you think?” George asked.

“I strongly suspect he’s a phony. It wouldn’t hurt to call the police. If the man has nothing to hide, he won’t be in trouble. But if he’s the thief—”

Nancy stopped at a nearby phone booth and put in the call. The sergeant on duty said two men would be sent to the cat show at once. He instructed Nancy to wait for them at the Carter booth so she could go with the officers to point out the suspect.

“I wonder if Bess sold any cats,” said George as the girls went on. As they neared booth ten, they saw only four cats.

Bess greeted them with a giggle. “Want to know who the real salesman is around here?” she asked, thumping her chest.

“Congratulations,” said Nancy. Then she told Bess about the man in booth thirty and said the police would be arriving in a few minutes to talk to him.

Bess gave Nancy a long look and shook her head. “Everywhere you go there’s excitement.”

Nancy laughed. “This may not end up being exciting at all. Here come two men now. I wonder if they’re plainclothesmen from the police department, or potential customers.”

The men stopped at the booth.

“Miss Drew?” one of them asked.

When Nancy acknowledged her identity, the two men opened their coats and showed police detective badges. They requested her to point out the suspect to them. Bess asked to go along.

“George, see if you can sell a cat while I’m gone,” she teased.

Nancy led the way toward booth thirty. As they approached it, she gasped. The man and all the cats were gone!

“He isn’t here!” she exclaimed, embarrassed.

The group stood in front of the empty booth, mystified. Nancy was sure that the detectives felt that a hoax had been pulled on them.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” one of them asked Nancy.

“Oh, yes.”

“Now listen, young lady!” the other officer said. “Don’t you know it’s a serious offense to bring out the police on a wild-goose chase like this?”

Bess was aghast. She said quickly, “Nancy has done nothing wrong. She’s an amateur detective and we’ve been trying to trace cats that were stolen from a woman we know. Her name’s Carter.”

The taller of the two men looked at Nancy. “Amateur detective, eh?” He scoffed. “Well, if there’s one thing in this world I have no use for it’s an amateur detective.”

Nancy was stung by the remark. Somehow she must prove to these men that she was not faking. She saw a woman in booth thirty-one who was busy grooming some Maltese cats. She dashed over and touched her arm.

“Pardon me, but could you tell us where the man went who had the cats in booth thirty?”

“I can’t tell you where he went,” the woman answered, “but I can tell you this: after you and the other young lady left here, he began to act strange. He mumbled to himself and then called out to passers-by:

“ ‘Want to buy a cat cheap?’ The price was so ridiculous, he sold them all in a couple of minutes. Then he rushed out of here as if a cyclone were chasing him.”

Nancy was so appreciative of the woman’s assistance she could have kissed her. But she merely said:

“I suspect that the cats the man was selling had been stolen from a home where I’m staying. I called the police and here are two detectives. They doubted my story, so I am very grateful to you for helping me out.”

The woman turned to the detectives. “Everything I’ve just said is true. Besides, I can easily believe that the man is a thief. He acted very odd right from the beginning—shifty-eyed and sort of scared—and wouldn’t let the judges look at his Persians. Even the cats didn’t seem to like him. He was having a hard time with them.”

The taller detective turned to Nancy. “I’m sorry I thought you were kidding us.” Then he quickly defended himself. “The police get so many phony calls I guess we’re kind of rough on people sometimes.”

He then asked for a full description of the suspect. The woman in booth thirty-one gave a clear picture of the man.

“Short and kind of stocky. He walked with quick steps. As I said he was shifty-eyed and acted nervous. He had dark hair and eyes. I guess that’s all I can tell you about him.”

The detective said she had been a great help and they would try to locate the man. The detectives said good-by to everyone and left. After Nancy had thanked the woman again, she and Bess hurried back to their own booth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get a look at that man’s Persian cats,” Bess said. “He probably took the list of the purchasers so there’s no chance of tracing him or the cats.”

“I’m afraid not,” Nancy agreed. “Let’s just hope they found good homes.”

The girls were delighted that George had sold two cats and within a few minutes Nancy sold one. By now the crowd had dwindled and it was approaching closing time.

“Oh dear!” said Bess. “Do you suppose we’ll have to take Abatha back home? Miss Carter needs the money and will be disappointed that we didn’t sell all the Persians. Should we lower the price?”

“I don’t want to do that,” said Nancy.

She took the Persian from its cage and fondled the fluffy animal. Maybe her gesture would appeal to some prospective buyer!

Among the people who stopped at the booth was a little boy. His pockets were stuffed with boxes of popcorn and candy. In one hand he carried a curled-up paper whistle.

He walked close to the cat and gave a great blow on the whistle. Not only did it make a loud noise but the curled-up section flew out at the little animal and hit it in the face.

“Oh, you naughty boy!” Nancy cried as the cat leaped from her arms.

To her dismay, it scooted up a post and onto a crossbeam. She turned toward the cat and held up one hand.

“Don’t be frightened,” she said soothingly. “I won’t let him do it again. Please come down.”

The cat paid no attention, so Nancy climbed up on a chair and reached for it. But the cat scooted farther away and climbed high onto a rafter of the auditorium.

“Oh dear!” said Bess. “What are we going to do now?”

Nancy continued to cajole the Persian to climb down, but without success. Bess and George tried persuading the cat to come back, but they had no luck either.

“There’s only one thing left to do,” said Nancy. “I’m glad I wore pants.”