The Sinister Omen by Carolyn Keene

  Nancy stared at Señor Segovia and began to nod her head. "Yes, yes. It does," she said excitedly. "I'll bet Bigley is the last name of Mrs. Palmer's butler Errol, the man who is involved with the burglars that wrecked her house. Why don't I call her and confirm this?"

  Without waiting for an answer, she ran into the house, and appeared a few minutes later with a triumphant smile on her face. "Bigley is our Errol all right," she said. "Not only that, but something just clicked in my brain!"

  "What's that?'' Ned asked, curious.

  "When we were in that restaurant and overheard the men in the back room talking, one of the voices seemed vaguely familiar to me. But I couldn't place it. That's because I didn't connect Errol with Stroessner's people then. Otto addressed him as Bigley, so no doubt it was Errol!"

  ''Wow!" Bess and George said almost simultaneously. "What a revelation!"

  ''Very good, Nancy," her father said proudly. "But now comes the big question. What were they looking for in Mrs. Palmer's house? She never collected stamps. I know that for a fact."

  "Oh." Nancy's face fell. "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. My ears are still burning from a fifteen-minute lecture she gave me when I was about twenty years old. She said an active young man shouldn't waste his time sitting around sorting little pieces of paper."

  "Aw, what a break," Nancy said. "But then, what were they looking for?"

  No one had an answer.

  "I'm going to see Mrs. Palmer right after breakfast," Nancy decided. "If only she could tell us what's hidden in her house. We're getting so close!"

  "We're getting close, too," Señor Segovia said. ''I think we've found Stroessner's headquarters"

  Before he could explain further, a phone call forced him and Mr. Drew to leave immediately.

  "Do you want us to go to Mrs. Palmer's with you?" George asked Nancy.

  "No, that won't be necessary. I have a job for you, however."

  Dave pretended not to be pleased. ''Come now, Nancy. Work again? I was looking forward to a swim!"

  ''You'll get that while you're working," Nancy replied.

  "How?"

  "I want you all to watch Angus's place. The butler will give you the proper binoculars. Have fun around the pool but always keep an eye on the canal, okay?"

  "That's the kind of job I like," Dave said. "Thanks, Nancy."

  Ned said, "I'll come with you to Mrs. Palmer's. There'll be enough watchers here."

  Nancy smiled. "Good. Let's go."

  Soon Andre deposited the couple in front of the Palmer house. "I won't be able to wait for you," he said, "since I have a number of errands to run. Would you mind taking a taxi home?"

  "Of course not" Nancy said. "And thanks for bringing us here"

  She and Ned walked up to the house, and Susan McAfee led them into the kitchen. Nancy told Mrs. Palmer of Errol's connection with Stroessner and of their first suspicion that what the burglars were after was a stamp collection. But the woman reacted as Carson Drew had predicted.

  "Your father's right. I think stamp collecting is so much nonsense. Cultivating a garden or making something, now those are worthwhile hobbies. But collecting little scraps of paper? Ridiculous."

  "Well," Nancy said, "then the gang must be looking for something other than stamps. Do you have a safe in the house or a safe-deposit box in the bank?"

  "Yes," said Mrs. Palmer. "Both. Let's look here first." She led them to a wall in the living room that contained a fireplace. "Pull out the andirons," she instructed Nancy. The girl did so. "Now," Mrs. Palmer said, "press the third brick from the left in the fourth row from the top."

  Nancy complied but nothing happened. She looked questioningly at Mrs. Palmer.

  "Patience," the old lady said. "That deactivated a catch on the bottom of the fireplace floor. Push it"

  Nancy did as she was told. The slab slowly moved down about four inches and then slid easily to the left. Embedded in the floor, face up, was a very strong-looking safe!

  Nancy was filled with admiration for whoever had designed the safety precautions. "That is really well thought out,'' she said.

  "Correct." Mrs. Palmer nodded. ''A devious mind came up with that one. Now let me try the combination." Bending down stiffly, the old lady tried to turn the dial. It wouldn't budge. Nancy and Ned worked on it, but to no avail.

  ''Well," Mrs. Palmer said, ''that's what I get for not using the safe more than once every twenty years. I'll have to ask the locksmith to open it. But before I do that, we may as well go to the bank and check the safe-deposit box."

  The group drove a short distance to Mrs. Palmer's bank and examined everything in her box—stocks, bonds, deeds, various legal documents, and a great deal of expensive jewelry.

  Nancy sighed. "The burglars could've been after any of this," she said. "But I can't help thinking that if they wanted to steal this type of thing, they would have taken some of the valuables in your house, even though they are a bit bulky"

  "True," Mrs. Palmer agreed. "Well, let's get the locksmith and go back to the dreary job of opening that safe in the fireplace."

  The locksmith, a young and nervous man, was immediately cowed by Mrs. Palmer's gruff, critical manner. As he worked, she stood over him, watching every move. As a result, it took him twice as long as usual. But he finally did hear the last tumbler click and swung the heavy door up.

  ''It's a very inconvenient position for a safe," he said, stretching his back.

  "Of course it's inconvenient," Mrs. Palmer declared. ''That's to make sure nothing is put in it frivolously. In a safe like that where you practically crack your back trying to get to it, you only put truly valuable things." She scowled at him and the young man shrugged apologetically.

  "Yes, ma'am. I see your point," he said.

  "Oh, Land of Goshen, don't be so wishy-washy. Is it convenient or isn't it?"

  "Oh, yes," the confused young man said. "Very convenient."

  "It is not!" Mrs. Palmer snapped. "We've just settled the fact that it was the most inconvenient safe ever made!"

  The young man stared at her, slightly dazed, as if he had just had a narrow brush with a bolt of lightning. "Uh, yes, it's inconvenient, but that's convenient because then you only put important stuff in. Isn't that what you said?"

  ''You got it. Now get on with you. Your work here is finished."

  "Yes, ma'am, thank you."

  "You're welcome," Mrs. Palmer said, dismissing him. But the young man stopped and turned back, squaring his shoulders.

  ''Are you still here?" asked Mrs. Palmer, peevishly.

  ''Yes, ma'am. I just wanted to ask you a question. Since you only put the most valuable things in that safe, can you remember what you put in it?"

  Mrs. Palmer was bent over, peering into the safe. She stopped, then straightened and turned to stare at the young man.

  "Can you remember, Mrs. Palmer?" he repeated.

  "I heard you," Mrs. Palmer said. "I'm not handicapped. I'm trying to think." She paused, then looked the young man straight in the eye.

  "No, I'm not able to remember. And you're a rascal to challenge me on it. But you're walking out with more backbone than you had when you came in. That's my talent, young man, putting backbone in people. I get 'em mad at me and pretty soon they start acting like real, living, breathing people."

  The young man smiled, tipped his cap, and left.

  In the meantime, Nancy had been fidgeting and going on tiptoe, waiting for the conversation to end, curious to see what was in the safe.

  "Now then," Mrs. Palmer said, "let's see what we have here." She reached inside. The instant her hand came out of the safe, clutching a bundle of old letters, Nancy knew what the thieves had wanted. But to be sure, she waited.

  "Well," Mrs. Palmer said, "nobody would be interested in these. They're love letters sent to my grandmother from my grandfather when he was working as an engineer in the jungles of South America."

  "But that's it!" Nancy cried. "Don't you see, that's exactly
what those crooks are after!"

  19. Stroessner's Plan

  "What!" Mrs. Palmer cried. "They want my grandfather's letters? What for? Blackmail? My grandparents have been dead for more than fifty years!"

  "No, no!" Nancy said excitedly. "Not the letters. The envelopes, or rather the stamps on the envelopes. There must be some particularly valuable ones that they know were purchased in those days. And from the looks of that huge bundle of letters you have, there must be easily a couple of hundred stamps."

  "Well, of all the silly—"

  "Yes, silly perhaps, Mrs. Palmer. But please, let me check it out. Td like to show those envelopes to Señor Segovia. He'll have the stamps evaluated and give you some idea of whether they were worth all this trouble to get them."

  "I can't believe it. I think those people are mad," Mrs. Palmer declared.

  "Money mad," Nancy added.

  The woman agreed to remove the letters and give Nancy the envelopes. As she did, Nancy and Ned sorted them by stamps, putting all the unusual ones in one pile and the others, that appeared on many letters, in another. "This will save Señor Segovia some work," Nancy said as she combined the two bundles in the end, and put them in a shopping bag Susan gave her.

  Then the young people caught a cab that was parked not far from the Palmer home.

  "The driver must have let someone out just a second ago," Nancy said. "Weren't we lucky!"

  Somewhat tired after the excitement of their last discovery, they rode in silence for a time until Nancy said, "I don't think the driver has the right address." To be sure, she repeated it. The man nodded but did not turn around. Instead, he continued to drive in the wrong direction.

  Ned tapped on the window. "Listen," he said, "you're going the wrong way. You're heading west, taking us inland. We want to go to a house on the canal!"

  The man turned his head slightly. "You may as well settle back and relax. You're going where Tve been told to take you. And, by the way, the boss says thanks for finding the stamps.''

  ''What!" Nancy cried, feeling her heart sinking. "What are you talking about?"

  "We've got ways of finding out things. We keep a watch on the old lady's place. When she went to the bank and came back with the locksmith, we knew we were on the trail. We knew she was going to dig those letters out. And you have them right now, in that shopping bag. But you won't turn them over to Segovia. The Big Man will get them."

  "Stroessner," Ned said, disgusted.

  "You said it, I didn't."

  "Oh, come on," Ned said. "Everybody knows Stroessner is the crime kingpin."

  "Stroessner? Oh yeah, that's the gentleman who is a stamp dealer. The police and Segovia are saying he's the head of some criminal gang? I don't know anything about that." The driver laughed harshly.

  Nancy sighed. "That's the way the big ones always protect themselves from justice. They pay you guys to do the dirty work and keep their names out of it."

  Ned frowned. "What are we going to do?

  Want me to try to break the glass and get at him?"

  Nancy shook her head. "There is an easier way and no one will get hurt" She reached into the shopping bag and pulled out an envelope.

  Then she tapped on the glass. "Sir. Oh, sir. Could I have your attention a moment?"

  "What do you want?" came the irritated response. "I gotta watch the road!"

  They came to a stop light and Ned tried opening both doors. They were locked and under the driver's control. So were the windows. They could not be rolled down.

  Nancy shook her head. "That won't work. Even if we yell and scream nobody will notice. Let me try my approach." She tapped on the window again.

  "Sir," she said, "what would happen to you if you arrived at your headquarters and you told the boss that you had us but didn't have the stamps?"

  "What are you talking about? I got you and the stamps," came the sullen reply.

  "Oh, no," corrected Nancy. "You have us. And we have the stamps. But suppose I take the envelopes and as you're driving I tear up every stamp?"

  Nancy and Ned went crashing against the front seat as the driver hit the brakes in a panic and then speeded up again. "Now don't go saying things hke that," he shouted. ''You wanna turn my hair white with worry? You just be good and leave those stamps alone. In fact, I better stop and take them."

  ''Better not," said Nancy. "I have a lighter here that's full of fluid. I can douse them and set fire to them faster than you can turn around."

  The driver hunched his shoulders and wiped his brow. "Wait a minute," he said, slowing down, "let's talk this over."

  "Don't slow down," Nancy warned.

  He ignored her.

  "Okay," the young sleuth cried, "here goes the first one." She tore an envelope right through the center of the stamp.

  The driver almost went mad. "Don't do that! Lady, listen! Stop doing that!"

  Nancy tore another one.

  "All right!" he screamed. "What do you want?"

  "Turn us loose in a well-populated area and I'll give you the letters," Nancy said.

  "Nancy!" Ned whispered. "You can't do that!"

  Nancy nudged him with her foot and he realized that she had a plan. He lapsed into silence and waited to see what would happen next.

  "How do you want to handle this?" the driver asked.

  "Take us to downtown Fort Lauderdale."

  "Nothing doing. The cops'll catch me. Too much traffic."

  ''Then go to North Federal Highway and Oakland Park Boulevard," Nancy said, naming an intersection in the north of town where there were shopping centers. She knew she and Ned could easily slip away once they left the cab, and the driver would not be afraid because the traffic was not heavy enough to block his escape.

  ''All right," he agreed.

  ''What are you doing?" Ned hissed.

  ''Trust me," Nancy said softly.

  When they reached the intersection, she had the driver pull up to the curb.

  "Hand me the letters," he demanded, reaching back to unlock the sliding partition.

  "Not on your life. Til set fire to them."

  ''No! Okay. How do you want it?"

  "I'll leave the letters on the back seat, see?" She pointed.

  "No good," he objected. "You throw them to me before you get out."

  "Only if Ned leaves the car first and the door is open."

  "Fine." The driver reached back. "Give me your hand."

  Nancy hesitated, but then put her hand forward. She felt the man clamp his viselike fingers around her wrist. "Now," he said, "tell your friend to get out."

  Ned did and held the door open.

  "Throw me the letters," the driver commanded.

  With her free hand, Nancy tossed the envelopes over the divide. With the light turning green, the man had no choice but to release her hand since there were cars in back of him. As he did, Nancy leaped out. Ned grabbed her, slammed the taxi door, and they started running toward the shopping center.

  The driver took off with his tires squealing, and quickly disappeared into the distance.

  "Well!" Ned gasped as they stopped running and hailed another taxi that was parked first in line near a large department store. "We're free, but they have the goodies."

  "Only some," Nancy said, reaching into her purse.

  "What?"

  "When we sorted the stamps, I put the en-

  velopes with special ones on top, and the repeats on the bottom. I took everything out of the shopping bag, but only gave him the bottom pile. The rest I put in my purse."

  Ned laughed. "Nancy, you're so clever. The guy never knew you had more envelopes!"

  "Right!"

  "Stroessner will have his head!"

  "Those are the hazards that go with his profession," Nancy said with a chuckle.

  When they returned to the mansion, she gave the envelopes to Señor Segovia, who promised to have them checked by an expert immediately.

  Then Nancy and Ned got sodas for themselves and went out
on the patio. Their friends were lounging in chairs, but the atmosphere was tense, and they kept taking turns looking through two pairs of binoculars.

  "What's happening?" Nancy asked.

  "We found out that good old Angie's house over there isn't just a simple home for the Campbells," Ned replied. "It appears to be a meeting place for some really mean-looking characters. Here, take a look."

  Nancy took the glasses and eagerly scanned the Campbell home and dock area.

  The first thing that caused her to jump was the sight of a small boat docked next to The Flying Scot. It looked exactly like the hydrofoil she and Ned had tried to chase!

  She asked her friend what he thought. Ned nodded.

  "Exactly. If it isn't, it must be a twin. And look at the driveway!"

  Nancy focused on the drive circling the main building. A truck stood near the gate and a piece of machinery, covered with tarpaulins, was being loaded. "It's a press of some kind!" the girl exclaimed.

  "They already loaded other equipment," Dave said.

  "Oh, dear," Nancy cried, "I have a hunch that this is the place Dad and Señor Segovia are looking for! But the gang's moving out. Why?"

  "You must have scared Angus when you talked with him on the yacht," Ned suggested. "He probably figured you knew something, perhaps more than you really did."

  Nancy bit her lip. "I guess that wasn't too smart. I shouldn't have let on I was suspicious. On the other hand, he certainly wasn't very bright coming over here and asking all those questions."

  "I think," Ned said, "he's the kind of guy who feels he has so much charm he can get away

  with anything. Only this time he overplayed his hand"

  "His father must have been furious" Dave put in.

  "I doubt that there is a father," Nancy said. ''I have a feeling that Angus works alone. Somehow he got roped into the crime ring and made a lot of money, so he bought this house as a meeting place for the gang. The story about his rich dad is just that—a story.''

  "You mean, you believe that everything is over there?" Ned asked. "The stolen stamps, including the Penny Black, the counterfeiting equipment—and now they're moving it?"

  "That's the way it looks. Let's call Dad and Señor Segovia and have them raid the place," Nancy suggested and turned to walk into the house.