“Then which one,” said George, “is the real Monsieur Neuf?”
Nancy frowned. “I don’t know, but I believe they’re working together—Claude in the United States, this man over here. It’s my guess we’ve been followed ever since we arrived.”
A frightened look came over Bess’s face. “Then we didn’t leave the danger behind. Nancy, supposing the men are brothers, do you think one calls himself the Green Lion?”
“Possibly. In any case, we should find out at once if Claude Aubert did escape, or jump bail. I’ll phone Chief McGinnis as soon as we leave here.”
Mr. Drew liked the idea and the four left the tower immediately. When they reached the street, Nancy suggested that Bess and George go inside the cathedral while she and her father looked for a telephone.
“There’s a delightful little garden in back of Notre Dame,” said Mr. Drew. “Suppose we all meet there in half an hour.”
The group separated. Nancy and her father found a restaurant which had a telephone booth and Nancy put in a call to River Heights. She was told there would be a delay of fifteen minutes.
“I’ll wait,” she said in French. “Will you please ring me at this number?”
The operator promised to do so. Nancy and her father sat down at a nearby table and ordered some French pastry and hot chocolate. When the food arrived, Mr. Drew chuckled and said, “Wouldn’t Bess be goggle-eyed over this pastry?” Nancy grinned.
Ten minutes later the telephone rang and she jumped to answer it. “Chief McGinnis?”
“Yes. You’re calling from Paris, Nancy?” he said. “It must be important.”
“It is. Tell me, is Claude Aubert still in jail?”
“Sure. Why?”
Quickly Nancy told him about the man she had seen. “Could you find out from Aubert if he has a brother who looks like him, perhaps a twin?”
“Hold on!” The chief was gone for several minutes.
Finally McGinnis came back and said that Aubert had refused to answer. “That makes me think you may have guessed correctly,” the officer told Nancy. “By the way, we’ve observed that his limp is phony. Anyhow, I will report your suspicions to the Paris police.”
Nancy told the chief where she was staying and thanked him for his help. She asked about the stilt walker. The man had not been found yet.
As Nancy emerged from the booth and rejoined her father, she was beaming.
“Don’t tell me,” said Mr. Drew. “I know from your expression you’re on the right track.”
Nancy laughed. “I shouldn’t wear my secrets on my face.” Then she remarked softly, “If this other man is Claude Aubert’s brother and is following us, we should turn the tables and follow him.”
“A neat trick if you can do it,” the lawyer said. “But we’ll keep our eyes open.”
The Drews made a tour of the breathtaking interior of Notre Dame. Nancy was awed by its vastness and the beauty of the stained-glass windows and the many statues. She paused before one of the Virgin Mary, whose lovely face looked down at arms which had once cradled an infant.
“The baby’s statue was mysteriously taken away,” her father explained. “Stolen apparently.”
“How dreadful!” Nancy exclaimed. “And how sad!”
She and her father left the cathedral and walked down the side street to the open garden at the rear. Bess and George were waiting for them and admiring the colorful beds of zinnias and petunias. The four sat down on chairs and Nancy told the cousins of her talk with Chief McGinnis. She urged that wherever they all went, each one try to spot the man she thought was Claude’s brother. A few minutes later Mr. Drew suggested that they go back to the hotel and have lunch.
“That’s a grand idea,” Bess spoke up. “I’m starved!”
She arose, and before heading toward the street, turned slowly in a complete circle, hoping she might see the suspect. Suddenly her eyes became riveted on a black lamppost which stood near high bushes and trees at the back of the garden. She had spied a figure crouching behind the post.
“Nancy,” Bess whispered quickly, “I think I see Mr. Nine!”
CHAPTER VII
Exciting Steps
As Bess pointed toward the lamppost, the man crouching behind it seemed to realize he had been discovered. He sprang up and plunged into a mass of bushes and trees behind him.
“Let’s chase him!” Nancy urged, and the whole group took off in pursuit.
George reached the other side of the shrubbery first. She cried out, “I see him! He’s heading for the back street!”
When they came to the Rue du Cloître, they could see their quarry running to the south.
“We mustn’t let him escape!” called Mr. Drew. “You girls go on. I can’t run as fast as I used to.”
Nancy soon caught up to George. But at the corner of the Quai de l’ Archêveché, they were stopped by a policeman wearing a tight-fitting, dark-blue tunic suit, white gauntlets, and a high-crowned, peaked cap.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” he called out in French.
Nancy pointed down the street toward the fugitive. “He is a suspect trying to get away from us!”
The officer’s eyebrows lifted. “Suspected of what?” he asked.
For a moment Nancy was stumped. What did she suspect the man of? Only of being Claude Aubert’s brother. Finally she said, “He has been watching and following us. We want to find out why.”
By this time Mr. Drew and Bess had reached the group. The lawyer introduced himself and the girls and showed his identification.
“I beg the pardon of the Americans,” the policeman said, and waved them on.
But Nancy shook her head. “Too late. Look!”
At that moment the long-armed man was jumping into a taxi. Disappointedly his pursuers watched it drive out of sight.
The policeman said cheerfully, “If the man is following you, he will be seen again. What is his name?”
“We do not know,” Nancy replied. “We think it may be Aubert. By any chance, have you ever heard of a Claude Aubert?”
The officer stared at her. “Mais oui, mademoiselle! Claude Aubert is a well-known forger. Some time ago he faked the signature on a large check and was nearly caught by our captain, but he got away. You mean, that man you were chasing is Claude?”
“No, he’s in jail in the States,” Nancy replied, then added that Captain McGinnis was going to get in touch with the Paris police. On a hunch she asked whose signature Claude Aubert had forged. The group was astounded to learn it was that of Charles Leblanc! The “frightened financier”!
Nancy and her father were elated over this clue, which might prove a strong link between his case and Nancy’s.
As calmly as she could, Nancy asked the officer where Claude Aubert had lived at the time he vanished. The policeman gave her the address of an apartment house in the section of Paris known as the Left Bank.
The Drews thanked him for the information and walked back toward Notre Dame. Mr. Drew suggested they have lunch at one of the sidewalk cafes instead of returning to the hotel, then go to Aubert’s apartment house.
“That would be fun,” Bess said eagerly. “Some fine French food will step up my brainpower. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Nancy?”
Her friend laughed. “This mystery is becoming so complicated, I can use all the help you can give me.”
Mr. Drew selected a pleasant cafe and the group seated themselves at a small table. After their luncheon orders of cheese souffié had been given, the lawyer said in a low tone, “Monsieur Leblanc’s office building is not far from Aubert’s apartment.”
George asked, “Do you think that fact has a bearing on your case, Mr. Drew?”
The lawyer shrugged. “At least it’s a strange coincidence.”
When they finished eating, Mr. Drew suggested that on their way to the Left Bank, they stop at the famous Louvre to view some of the paintings and statuary. A taxi took them to the massive museum which had once been a palace.
Bess sighed. “It would take us a week to see everything in this place,” she commented.
Mr. Drew smiled. “You’re right, Bess, but there are certain priceless art objects you must not miss —for instance, the Winged Victory.”
George grinned. “She’s the lady with the wings but no head, isn’t she?”
“That’s the one,” Mr. Drew answered.
“The Venus de Milo statue is here too,” Nancy said.
“That’s right.”
George chuckled. “She’s the beautiful lady without any arms. Where did she lose them?”
“I haven’t heard,” the lawyer said with a grin, “or I might look for them.”
Bess announced, “One thing I want to see is Leonardo da Vinci’s portrait of Mona Lisa.”
Mr. Drew said that apparently this was considered the most valuable art treasure in the Louvre, since it was more heavily protected than any of the other pieces.
When the group reached the famous painting, they found it guarded by an iron rail and two uniformed men, who carefully watched each visitor.
“Mona Lisa’s face is lovely,” Nancy remarked. “Just looking at her portrait gives me a peaceful feeling.”
The River Heights visitors stayed for an hour in the famous old building. Then, weary, they decided to stop walking and drive across the Seine to Claude Aubert’s former home. The concierge in charge of the apartment house was a rather gruff man of about fifty. At first he seemed unwilling to answer any of their questions about the forger.
“It was bad enough having the police come here disturbing me!” he complained, growing red in the face. “Who are you?”
Nancy smiled disarmingly. She decided to shoot a direct question at him. Could she get him to answer?
“What’s Claude Aubert’s twin’s name?” she asked.
Without hesitation, the concierge replied, “Louis.”
Nancy could hardly keep from shouting her delight. Mr. Drew, Bess, and George also found it difficult to maintain calm expressions.
“Oh, yes,” Nancy said nonchalantly. “Let me see, where does Louis live?”
The man did not answer at once, but finally he said, “It is out in the country. I do not know the name of the place.” Suddenly he went on, “You know, Louis is the bright one. Claude is a bit slow. He just does what his brother tells him to.
Mr. Drew put in casually, “Louis keeps busy, no doubt. We saw him today from a distance. What’s he doing now?”
“Oh, he is some sort of scientist. That business with formulas and flasks and such is beyond me.”
Nancy’s intuition told her they were getting nearer and nearer to an excellent clue. Again she smiled at the concierge. “Would it be possible for us to see where Claude used to live?”
Actually Nancy did not expect to find any clue in the apartment. What she did want to do was count the number of steps to Aubert’s living quarters. It was just possible there might be 99 and there would be some significance to this!
“I can show you which apartment it is,” the concierge replied. “But I cannot admit you because a young man and his wife occupy it now.”
As he led the way up the stairs, Nancy moved backward to the front door. Then, as she walked forward again, she began to count. It took her ten steps to the stairway. She added each tread as the group climbed. On the second floor there were ten steps to the next stairway. The concierge went on up, and Nancy continued to count. When they reached the top, she found there were 69 steps in the two stairways.
“Maybe—just maybe—” Nancy told herself.
Would there be ten steps to the Aubert apartment? There were. The total was 99!
“But now that I have the information, how can I use it?” Nancy thought. “The number may have been a signal between Louis and Claude or between Claude and some pals of his to meet here in connection with his forgeries. But where does it fit in with Mrs. Blair’s dream?”
Meanwhile, the Drews and their companions had pretended to gaze with interest at the apartment door, then returned to the front entrance. Mr. Drew thanked the concierge, hailed a taxi, and the callers went back to their hotel.
“I have a surprise for you girls this evening,” said Mr. Drew. “We’re invited to a soirée. It’s being held by friends of mine especially for you girls to meet Monsieur Charles Leblanc and see what you can learn.”
“It sounds wonderful!” Bess remarked.
The lawyer turned to his daughter and smiled. “If you can get as much information from Monsieur Leblanc as you did from the policeman and the concierge, I’ll buy you a special gift from Paris!”
Nancy laughed. “I’ll do my best to win it!”
After tea and a short rest, Mr. Drew and the girls dressed in evening clothes and taxied to a beautiful mansion near the Bois de Boulogne Park. The large stone building had several steps leading up to a massive carved doorway. The house was brilliantly lighted, and strains of music from inside floated to the ears of the arriving
guests.
“How divine!” Bess murmured.
Mr. Drew alighted first. He was just helping Nancy out when a car came up behind their taxi, and without braking, smashed into it. Despite her father’s efforts to save Nancy, she was knocked off-balance and thrown full force to the pavement!
CHAPTER VIII
Dancing Sleuths
THE impact snapped Bess and George against the rear seat of the taxi, then bounced them onto the floor. The driver was also jolted, although less severely.
A stream of furious French issued from his lips and he scrambled out, shaking his fist. But the car responsible for the crash had quickly backed up, then roared off down the street before anyone could get the license number.
By this time Mr. Drew had gently helped Nancy to her feet and the taximan assisted Bess and George from the car. Although badly shaken, the cousins’ first concern was for Nancy.
“Are you hurt?” they asked.
At first she did not answer. The breath had been knocked from her and she had fallen heavily on one shoulder. Nancy admitted it hurt.
“Nothing’s broken, though. I’ll be all right. How about you girls?”
“Okay,” George said gamely, rubbing the back of her neck. “We’re lucky.”
Mr. Drew was greatly concerned for his daughter and her friends. “We’d better give up the party and go back to our hotel.”
“Oh, no!” Nancy insisted. “I just wish we’d seen the person who crashed into us. It was certainly deliberate!”
Grim-faced, her father agreed. No one had caught even a glimpse of the culprit. Mr. Drew paid their fare and the banged-up taxi rattled off.
The door of the mansion had opened and the doorman, who evidently had heard the crash, came hurrying down the steps. Upon learning that Mr. Drew and the girls had an invitation to the soiree, he said quickly:
“I will take you to bedrooms so that you can refresh yourselves.” When he saw Nancy rubbing one shoulder, he told her there was a doctor at the party. “I will send him upstairs.”
Nancy protested, but the doorman was insistent. “I know Monsieur Tremaine—your host —would want me to do that.”
He escorted the American guests to elegantly furnished bedrooms on the second floor. Heavily carved furniture was set off by velvet flower-patterned rugs and large tapestries which hung on the walls. The one in the girls’ room showed a hunting scene with women seated sidesaddle on their horses. The costumes made the girls smile. The women wore bodiced dresses with long skirts and large hats with plumes.
“I wonder if those women ever really did any riding or whether they just sat on the horses and posed,” Bess remarked.
A few moments later the doorman brought in the physician and introduced him. He was very gracious and seemed glad that Nancy and the others spoke French, since he said he spoke little English. He examined her shoulder thoroughly and reported that it was neither broken nor strained.
“But you have a bad bruise. I suggest that an
ice pack be put on it at once and that you get some rest.”
Then the doctor examined Bess and George. He seemed pleased that their injuries were minor and prescribed ice packs for the bruises.
Mr. Drew summoned a maid, who quickly brought some ice. The girls lost no time in applying it.
Presently Nancy declared, “I feel all right now. Let’s go down to the party.”
Bess helped her put on fresh make-up and combed her hair. George brushed the dirt off Nancy’s dress and used some water to remove a couple of spots.
“Thanks a million, girls,” she said. “All set?”
With a smile Mr. Drew gave Nancy his arm and they led the way downstairs. News of the accident had spread among the guests and many had gathered in the reception room to meet the new-comers. Beyond, the girls could see a ballroom gleaming with crystal chandeliers.
Monsieur and Madame Tremaine were very solicitous, but Nancy and the cousins assured them they felt fine. “We are grateful to you for inviting us to the soirée,” Nancy added, not revealing she knew why the party was being given.
“I should like to introduce you to some of our other guests,” Madame Tremaine said.
After she had presented them to various friends, she escorted the four Americans into the ballroom where Monsieur Leblanc was standing, and introduced them. A tall slender man with iron-gray hair and mustache, he spoke English fluently.
Nancy thought, “He is handsome and has a charming smile.”
“Mr. Drew,” said the financier, “you are fortunate to have such a lovely daughter.” His eyes beamed with admiration as he looked at Nancy. Then, turning, he smiled at Bess and George.
“Ah! We Frenchmen pride ourselves on the good-looking women in this country, Mr. Drew, but if Mesdemoiselles Drew, Fayne, and Marvin are examples of the young women in America, perhaps our women have to take second place, non?”
Nancy, Bess, and George as well as Mr. Drew carried on the banter. Then Nancy adroitly brought the conversation around to another subject with the question, “You are alone this evening, Monsieur Leblanc?”