As soon as Nancy stepped inside, it was obvious that this wasn’t just the home of Gertrude Wolaski. It was also a shrine to the former ballerina Grace Turner. Nancy shined her flashlight on the hallway walls, which were papered with photos and newspaper articles. Pictures of Grace in different costumes were placed all around the living room. Ballet memorabilia were strewn on every table and shelf, and a pair of faded pink toe shoes hung over the mantel.
“How sad,” Madame Dugrand murmured as she looked around her. “I wish Gertrude had told me who she was. Grace Turner was her stage name. I never knew her as Gertrude. Maybe I could have helped her work out her anger.”
“I don’t think so,” Nancy said, pointing to a picture on the living room wall. It was the stolen photo of Alicia Dugrand in her Sugar Plum Fairy costume. The glass over the photo was broken, and a large red X was marked across the young dancer’s face.
Madame Dugrand shook her head sadly. “Poor Grace,” she said.
“Hey, look at this,” Lawrence called from the other side of the room. He had opened a large wooden box he’d found in a corner. “Mrs. Farnsworth’s antique ornaments.”
George and Nancy rushed over. When Nancy saw that the valuable decorations—made of delicate glass in all shapes and colors—were in perfect condition, she gave a sigh of relief. “Now, if we can just find Shana. Let’s split into pairs and search the house. Look for anything that might give us a clue to Mrs. Wolaski’s accomplice or another address.”
Lawrence and George nodded, then headed for the kitchen. Nancy and Madame crept silently up the steps. Two rooms and a bath opened into the narrow hall. Nancy peered into the first room. It was Gertrude’s bedroom. Drawers were flung open and clothes were strewn on the bed, as if someone had been in a hurry. Something fuzzy was sticking out from under the bed. When Madame caught sight of it, she grabbed Nancy’s arm, startled.
Nancy bent down to pick up the fuzzy object. It was Mrs. Wolaski’s wispy-haired wig. “I guess she doesn’t need this anymore,” Nancy said grimly. She motioned for Madame to follow her. “Let’s check the other room.”
It was a small, sparsely furnished office. Nancy walked over and opened the front of an oak desk, shining the flashlight beam on a stack of envelopes. “Here’s a bank envelope with canceled checks,” she said. “Maybe they’ll tell us something. Why don’t you look through them?” she added, handing the envelope to Madame. Then Nancy began to examine the other envelopes. Letters, bills . . .
A tap on her arm made Nancy look over at Madame. The directress was staring at a handful of checks. “Nancy, look at these.”
Nancy shined the flashlight on the canceled checks. Then she took them from Madame and looked closely at each one. There were ten checks in the amount of five hundred dollars, and every one of them was made out to Roger L. Wolaski.
They’d found Gertrude Wolaski’s accomplice!
16
Pas de Deux
“Roger L. Wolaski,” Nancy murmured. “Do you think the L could stand for Lutz?” she asked Madame.
“Lutz must be his middle name,” Madame replied. Then she gasped. “You mean Roger is Gertrude’s son?”
“He may be her son or some other kind of relative,” Nancy said. “It makes sense, I guess. It would be hard to recruit a total stranger to help carry out a loony plan like Gertrude’s.”
When Nancy and Madame made their way back to the living room, Lawrence and George reported that the rest of the house was deserted. Nancy explained Roger’s role in the scheme, and that he was somehow related to Gertrude.
“Roger Lutz is working with Mrs. Wolaski?” Lawrence said after Nancy had told him and George the news. “But he’s such a mousy little guy.”
“Roger has to be Gertrude’s accomplice,” Nancy replied. “He had access to the building. And since he was always way in the background, no one suspected him.” She showed Lawrence and George the canceled checks.
“I never suspected they were related,” George commented. “Mrs. Wolaski acted as if she didn’t even know Roger.”
With a dejected expression, Madame slumped down on the sofa. “How could I have been so blind? I even saw Roger sneaking around on the day of the fire and never paid any attention. Those two were sabotaging my school right under my nose.”
“Now we have to figure out where they took Shana,” Nancy said. “Madame, when you hired Roger, did you get an address?”
“Oh, my, I didn’t!” Madame’s shoulders slumped even more. “I was just so glad to have someone play the piano for free. He seemed like such a nice man.”
Nancy began pacing back and forth. “Okay, everybody think. Did Roger ever mention where he lived? Or mention anything at all about where he lived? Like he lived with his parents, or in an apartment? And how about a license plate number, or even what his car looked like?” Nancy stopped and looked at the others, but their expressions were blank. “How about what college he went to?” she tried again.
Lawrence shook his head. “The guy never said ‘boo’ to anyone.”
“I’ll call Bess and Darci to tell them what we found out.” George started toward the kitchen. “Maybe one of them knows something.”
While she waited for George to return, Nancy continued to pace, trying to figure out what to do next. They could call the police. But what would they tell them? That the four of them had broken into a house? That would go over well with the River Heights police.
Suddenly, George rushed back into the room. “I think I’ve got a clue!” she said excitedly. “Darci remembers Roger talking about his brand-new apartment.”
Lawrence snorted. “Well, that narrows it down to about a hundred or so, just in River Heights.”
Brand-new apartment, Nancy thought, and then something clicked in her mind. “That’s it!” she cried. “Come on, everyone. I know where Roger lives!”
When they were back in the van, Nancy gave directions to Madame and explained how she’d figured out that Roger lived in the new garden complex for singles. “That’s where the van was heading on the night Bess and I followed it. Roger must have been taking my ornaments back to his apartment. When he spotted us, he turned the tables and started to chase us.”
“But how are we going to figure out which is his apartment?” Lawrence asked doubtfully. He was in the passenger seat, holding tight to the door. Madame was driving as quickly as she could without breaking any laws.
Nancy told her to take a sharp right, and they turned into the main street of the complex. As the van slowed, she studied all the entrances carefully. “If I’m remembering correctly, the van pulled out of this drive and began to tail us.” She pointed to the second entrance on the left.
Just then, Madame hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “A blue foreign thing!” she declared.
“Huh?” Lawrence swung around. “You mean, that’s what Roger drove?”
Madame nodded emphatically.
“All right!” From the backseat, George gave the directress a pat on the shoulder.
Madame turned the car into the complex and began to cruise alongside the line of parked vehicles. The road curved in a semicircle in front of the four apartment buildings. Nancy counted four small blue cars.
“Now what?” George asked in a gloomy voice. “We can’t knock on every door.”
