“Pointy-toed shoes,” Nancy reminded her friend as she swung the car into a parking spot.
“Would you mind speaking English?” Lawrence said.
Nancy opened the van door. “We need to look for pointy-toed footprints in the snow. Roger must have been the one wearing shoes like that.”
Excitedly, the four of them got out and began to look around. When Nancy searched the snow on the curb by the last blue car, she found what she was looking for: footprints with clearly pointed toes. They led directly to the third building. Quietly, the four of them stepped into the outside foyer.
They all stood in front of the rows of mailboxes, and Nancy said, “Look.” She pointed to the white strip under the box for apartment 3B. R. L. Wolaski was written on it.
“So do we call the police now?” George asked.
Lawrence held up his tire iron. “No way. It’s four against two. By the time the police come blasting in here, who knows what Grace and her whacky sidekick will have done to Shana.”
Nancy turned and laid her hand on Madame’s arm. “Madame, why don’t you take the van and drive to the nearest phone? Call Chief McGinnis and tell him to send a squad car over.”
“No,” Madame replied firmly. “I want to confront Grace myself.”
“I’ll do it, Nancy,” George offered. “I’ll call Bess and Darci, too.” Grabbing Madame’s keys, George hurried back to the car.
Nancy took a deep breath. “Now it’s only three against two.”
“Yeah. But we do have the element of surprise,” Lawrence said.
“Maybe. Unless they’ve been watching us from a window.” Motioning the others to stay put, Nancy walked back to the sidewalk and looked up. The two windows on the third floor were dark. Were Mrs. Wolaski and Roger just pretending not to be home?
Nancy rejoined Lawrence and Madame Dugrand in the foyer.
“I’m ready.” Madame’s eyes were determined.
Nancy took a deep breath. “Then let’s go.”
Cautiously, the three of them went up to the third floor. Nancy put her ear to the door of apartment 3B and listened. All seemed quiet.
She took her lock-picking kit from her purse and unlocked the mechanism.
When she quietly swung the door in, she saw the apartment was dark. When her eyes adjusted, Nancy was surprised to see Shana sitting in a chair in the center of the room. Her mouth was gagged and her hands were tied behind her with rope. Shana looked at Nancy with frightened eyes. Then she tried to cry out in a muffled voice.
“Shana!” Lawrence shouted, pushing past Nancy.
“No! It’s a trap!” Nancy cried. Grabbing Lawrence’s arm, she tried to stop him. But it was too late. Someone sprang from behind the door and whacked Lawrence on the back of the head with a cane. The dancer crumpled to the floor.
It was Roger. He turned and smiled wickedly. “Welcome, Ms. Drew.” He raised the cane menacingly.
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Nancy glimpsed something that would help her out of her predicament. It was the Mouse King headpiece, which she figured Roger and Mrs. Wolaski had stolen in a last-minute attempt to ensure that the ballet would be ruined.
Without giving Roger a moment to react, Nancy picked up the headpiece and swiftly yanked it over his head.
From inside the Mouse King head Roger emitted a muffled squeal of anger as he groped for Nancy. She had put the piece on backward, so that Roger was completely blinded and had no idea where he was standing in relation to Nancy. He turned in a semicircle, desperately swinging the cane to try to strike her.
Nancy tried to grab the cane, but just then Roger stumbled on a coffee table and, with a screech, fell to the floor. Crouching down, Nancy dug her fingernails into Roger’s skin, squeezing the tendon in his wrist, hard. He immediately cried out in pain and loosened his grip on Gertrude’s cane.
Nancy tossed the cane to the other side of the room, then looked around for something with which to tie Roger. She grabbed the gold tie cord from the drapes behind her and quickly bound his wrists together. Madame came running up with the tie cord from the other set of drapes, and Nancy expertly wrapped and knotted it around Roger’s ankles. Finally, she pushed the sputtering man into an arm chair. “Don’t move,” she told him.
Roger whined something unintelligible from inside the costume. Just then, a commotion in the hall made Nancy turn and step out. Madame Dugrand was grappling with someone at the top of the steps. Nancy had been so busy subduing Roger that she hadn’t heard Mrs. Wolaski approaching. The ex-wardrobe mistress was attacking her prime target—Alicia Dugrand.
“Madame!” Nancy cried out. Gertrude had the directress bent over the stair railing. Madame’s eyes were wide with horror.
Dashing forward, Nancy grabbed Gertrude’s arm and tried to pull her off. To Nancy’s surprise, Madame suddenly gritted her teeth and gave a powerful shove, throwing Gertrude against the wall.
Without her makeup and wig, Gertrude Wolaski looked very different. She had short brown hair, very few wrinkles, and a trim build.
“You’re not winning this time!” Gertrude shouted to Madame. Hands raised like claws, she rushed for Madame’s face. The directress nimbly jumped sideways. Then, reaching out with her leg, she kicked Gertrude in the thigh. Gertrude stumbled sideways and lost her balance. Then, with a cry, she rolled down the steps.
Madame stared down the steps in silent horror. Her attacker was sprawled on the second floor landing, not moving. “Oh, Nancy. I didn’t want to hurt her.” Madame clutched Nancy’s arm.
“She gave you no choice,” Nancy told her gently.
Just then, two police officers came running up the stairs. They stopped on the second floor landing and looked down at the body, then up at Nancy and Madame Dugrand.
Behind the two officers was Chief McGinnis. His gray brows shot up in surprise. “Nancy, are you all right? Your friend called and explained what was going on, but I had no idea.”
Nancy nodded. “There’s another one up here.” She pointed to the open apartment door. Roger sat in the chair grunting angrily as he tried to free his wrists. The headpiece had twisted to the side, so that it looked as though the Mouse King was looking right at Nancy.
She stepped inside the room to find Shana sobbing in Lawrence’s arms. He had untied her and was stroking her hair. Now that Nancy could see that everyone was okay, she wearily slumped against the wall. It was finally over.
• • •
“From what Roger has confessed,” Chief McGinnis told Nancy, George, and Bess on Friday night, “it was all Gertrude Wolaski’s idea. She contacted Roger—who is her nephew—about six months ago, and even set him up in the apartment.”
