It was Sandor in disguise, Horvath said, who had tried to plant a red plastic spider in Kim’s golf bag as a warning not to talk too freely to reporters. Later he had delivered the cobwebbed tennis racket.
It was also the chauffeur who had planted the bomb in Brett’s car and assaulted Jack Vernon in the park. The purpose was to confuse Nancy and convince her that “Sweeney Flint really existed – but that he did not have the spider.
Horvath opened his desk drawer and took out the missing brooch. Nancy gasped in sheer awe and admiration at the beautifully crafted ornament. The spider’s ruby body glowed with a fiery radiance. Its diamond-crusted legs sparkled like a myriad of ice crystals in ablaze of mountain sunlight.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it? Horvath murmured. “How could anyone who once saw such a lovely work of art ever forget it! Now you can understand how I felt when I heard that Simon Shand had bought the spider from Oscar Larue and was planning to let his fiancée wear it in public. The brooch was bound to be recognized. And once that news got back to the insurance compny, an investigation was sure to follow. They’ve have found out Arachne bilked them out of half a million dollars for the theft of a glass counterfeit. I’d have faced a choice between paying back the money or even going to prison myself as an accomplice in the fraud!”
Nancy nodded. “I see. So what did you do?”
Horvath’s lips shaped a cynical smile. “Luckily Sandor is an expert safecracker. So I had him remove the brooch from Shand’s possession.”
“And then I came along and upset the applecart.” Nancy said coolly. “And just how do you expect to get rid of my boyfriend and me without getting caught?”
Horvath explained that his chauffeur would slip away from Ned Nickerson in the darkness, the put on his “Sweeney Flint” disguise and let himself be glimpsed by Ned. Nothing more would be seen of Sandor, however, thus causing Ned to assume the chauffeur had fallen victim to the crook. “And when your boyfriend returns to the house, he’ll find me lying on the floor, apparently stunned from a blow on the head.”
“No doubt you’ll tell him I was seized and carried off by Sweeney Flint,” guessed Nancy.
“Exactly, my dear! There happens to be a cave on this island with an underground lake that connects with the sea outside. Evidence will be found indicating that you and Sandor were taken there, and your bodies dumped into that lake.”
“How clever! Sandor will come back to life someday - suitably disguised, of course – when you finally come to hire a new chauffeur.”
“Correct!” Horvath beamed maliciously. But a sudden noise at the window distracted him. “What’s going on out there?” he muttered.
“I suspect Sandor just discovered Ned eavesdropping at the window,” Nancy said calmly, “so now Ned’s fighting him off.”
“Surely you didn’t expect me to come out to Moonlight Island and walk into your spiderweb without taking precautions, once I bean to suspect you were the real criminal?” said Nancy. “ I warned Ned we’d better saty in close touch and not get separated, so he probably came straight back to the house as soon as he and Sandor separated to begin searching.”
With an angry exclamation, Horvath pressed a switch. The grounds were at once bathed in floodlights. As Horvath flung back the curtains, Ned could be seen struggling fiercely with Sandor!
Horvath opened the window and grabbed a brass candlestick to attack the husky young man. It was an unwise move. Nancy snatched at the small Oriental carpet under Horvath’s feet and pulled it, causing him to fall. He hit his head, and with a faint mutter, sank into unconsciousness.
Just then Ned landed a hard punch to the jaw that sent Sandor crashing among the shrubbery!
“Oh, Ne-e-ed!” gasped Nancy in a trembling voice as he gathered her in his arms.
Within an hour, the state police had arrived on the island, and the two were safely on their way back to the mainland. Although Nancy found herself wondering about her next adventure, one that would lead to The haunted Carousel, she was happy for the moment just to feel Ned’s kiss on her cheek and hear his whispering voice call her “my sweet little mystery-solver!”
Carolyn Keene, The Silver Cobweb
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