Carolyn Keene - The Clue in the Jewel Box

“I decided that you and your double work together. One of you picks the pocket of a victim, and either makes a quick getaway, or passes the loot to the other man through a window or a door. Then the thief plays innocent, and of course the pocketbook or wallet is never found on him.

“That handkerchief signal proved your undoing. You waved it once too often. Your pal stole a knife from Mr. Faber. In escaping, he nearly forgot to wave his handkerchief at me. Then moments later you tried the same stunt. Obviously you couldn’t have moved from the office building to the store that fast.”

“I didn’t think you’d figure it out!” said the thief as he was led away.

Forgetting their hunger, the young people decided to follow the officer and his prisoner to police headquarters. There Nancy repeated everything she knew about the two pickpockets.

Dorrance waived his constitutional rights to consult a lawyer before answering questions. His double, he said, had stolen Mr. Drew’s wallet. He admitted that both were professional pickpockets. They had met accidentally, and later worked out the partnership. When he would not tell the name of his accomplice, Nancy spoke up.

“Isn’t it Cordova?”

The prisoner nodded. “I suppose that woman in the apartment house on Water Street talked,” he said. “Cordova’s related to her husband.”

Nancy had a sudden hunch. “The husband’s tall and has bushy hair, hasn’t he?” she asked. “And he works with you.”

Dorrance looked surprised. “That’s right. He didn’t want to at first, but Cordova talked him into it.”

“Where is he now? At the apartment on Water Street?” Nancy asked.

“You find out!” Dorrance retorted.

“We’ll round him up,” the police lieutenant said quietly. “His name is Carl Peters.”

In addition to the money in Dorrance’s pockets, a little notebook had been found. It contained two addresses; that of a house on Clayton Avenue and the Alexandra residence.

“The Clayton Avenue place may be Cordova’s hideout,” said the officer. “We’ll search there at once, and also the Water Street apartment. What about this Alexandra address?”

“The man arrested at the Red Lion Inn tonight lived there,” Nancy explained. “I think he’s associated with Dorrance, Cordova, and Peters. The four probably planned the robbery at Mrs. Alexandra’s.”

It was so late that Nancy and her friends did not remain longer at police headquarters. However, the next day the young detective learned by telephone that a successful raid had been staged at the Clayton Avenue house and Peters had been captured. Although Cordova escaped, all of Mrs. Alexandra’s jewels and antiques had been recovered, as well as Mr. Drew’s papers.

On the way to church, she told the story to her father and Hannah Gruen. “And, Dad, you’ll get back most of the money that was stolen from you!”

“That’s good news.” Mr. Drew sighed. “Nancy, I’m proud of the way you handled this mystery.”

Later, when the family was finishing dinner, Nancy said, “As to the clue in the jewel box-well, I’m right back where I started. Prince Michael still has not been found. But I do have a good lead to work on,” she added. “If he is alive, then-”

Suddenly a voice boomed through an open window. “Carson, where are you?”

The lawyer glanced at his watch. “My goodness, Nancy, that’s Mr. Field. I promised to meet him twenty minutes ago. I must be off.”

He kissed her affectionately, said good-by to Hannah, and left the house. Nancy immediately telephoned the hospital. She was glad to hear that Mrs. Alexandra and Anna had improved.

Next she called Katherine and learned that Richard Ellington had not contacted her.

“Oh, Nancy, I worry,” the young woman said. “Richard and I are close perhaps because we are from same country. He is so kind, I do not see how he could-what you say?-break our date. He never do so before.”

“I’ll call his apartment,” Nancy offered.

The same man who had answered the evening before said that Ellington had not come home, and had sent no word.

Deep in thought, Nancy put down the telephone. “What could have happened to Richard?”

She drove to police headquarters to obtain more information about the two prisoners. Nancy was told that the impostor prince’s real name was Stanley Brandette.

“According to his story,” said the lieutenant, “he met the pickpockets, Dorrance and Cordova, about two weeks ago when Cordova stole his wallet. Being a small-time thief himself, he caught on at once to the way the pickpockets’ scheme worked, and told Dorrance so. Whenever Cordova was being chased after having picked someone’s pocket, Dorrance would whistle in a certain way. This was a warning to drop the stolen wallet. Most pursuers would give up the chase and the thief would get away.”

“The day Brandette’s wallet was stolen was the first time I saw the three of them,” said Nancy.

“Brandette professed admiration for the pickpockets’ work, with the result that the three men became pals. Brandette had already found the prince’s portfolio on the train and was planning how to rob Mrs. Alexandra.”

“So the impostor wasn’t keeping all the money from the sale of the jewels,” said Nancy.

“No, the pickpockets were helping him dispose of the articles and taking most of the money received for themselves. Brandette and Dorrance threatened you outside your home one night because they wanted to keep you from spoiling their scheme. Seeing that wasn’t possible, they decided to loot the Alexandra home.”

“Is the stolen property here?”

“Yes,” replied the officer, after consulting a memorandum. “It was brought in last night. We’ll have to hold everything here until Mrs. Alexandra can identify the objects.”

“She may be in the hospital for several days. I was wondering-couldn’t I do it for Mrs. Alexandra? Then the things could be taken to her home and put back in place.”

“I think it can be arranged,” the lieutenant agreed. “Can you identify the pieces?”

“A good many of them.”

As Nancy went to inspect the loot she asked the officer if Brandette had volunteered any information about the real Prince Michael.

“I don’t think he knows anything,” the lieutenant replied. “According to Brandette’s confession, he found an art portfolio left on a train seat.”

“An art portfolio?” Nancy repeated meditatively.

“Yes. Discovering that the photograph and letter which it contained might lead to a fortune, Brandette decided to keep the portfolio. From the letter he knew that the name Francis Baum had been given the prince by his nurse. Evidently the woman had been afraid that if Michael Alexandra used his real name, enemies might harm him.”

“Did Brandette describe the man who owned the portfolio?” Nancy asked after a moment.

“No, he refuses to give any further information.”

Nancy’s mind was racing. “The impostor certainly acted as if he didn’t want Richard Ellington to see him that day out on the river,” she thought. “Katherine did say he was from her country. Could it be possible that it was Richard’s portfolio Brandette had picked up? The artist might be the lost prince!”

Nancy was brought out of her reverie by a surprising remark from the police officer.

“Brandette made an admission in regard to you. He was eavesdropping at your house and heard you discussing plans for a party at the Red Lion Inn. He made sure you saw him there so that he’d have an alibi if he was questioned about the Alexandra robbery.”

“I guessed that last night. But I believe he had a second reason for appearing at the inn,” Nancy said slowly. “Did he say why his companion trailed a friend of mine and me along the road?”