Jessi and the Dance School Phantom

  I watched the three suspects as closely as I could during the next few rehearsals, but things went pretty smoothly. Our practice was starting to pay off. The performance was coming together, and I was feeling more and more confident as I danced the part of Princess Aurora.

  I began to think that maybe the phantom really had been just in my mind. Then, mysterious things began to happen again.

  First, I reached into my dance bag after one rehearsal, and I found my old leotard — the one that had been stolen. But there was no way I could wear it again. It had been cut to shreds. Somebody had gone after that leotard with a sharp pair of scissors. That was creepy.

  Then, during another rehearsal, I got shoved — by someone I didn’t see — into some scenery that was being painted. My leotard was covered with red paint, and Mme Noelle wasn’t pleased. Neither was I. I had spent all my savings to replace my dance outfit when it was stolen, so I had to borrow money from my parents to replace it again.

  This role was getting expensive.

  Sometimes I wondered if it was worthwhile — if I should just give up playing Princess Aurora. But then I would spend two hours working with Mme Noelle on a segment of the ballet, and I would realize that there was no way I could give up that kind of experience.

  My favorite part of the ballet was the dance I had to do when I first came on stage — the Rose Adagio. Some dancers have said that it’s this dance that makes the role of Princess Aurora such a challenge, because you have to do it “cold” — without warming up on some easier dancing first.

  But I loved that dance. It was full of slow, graceful movements. According to the fairy tale, this dance shows the princess being presented to the court on her sixteenth birthday. She is meeting four princes. They all want to marry her, even though she’s so young.

  Each prince gives her a beautiful rose, and she dances with them. But after dancing, she gives the flowers to her mother. She’s having too much fun to think about serious things like marriage.

  The dance that she does (or rather, that I did) with the princes is very difficult. Mme Noelle worked with us for a long time before we could do it well. The way it went was this: As I finished dancing with each prince, he helped me to balance on the point of one toe — and then he took away his hand and left me balancing there until the next prince came to dance with me.

  “Do not wobble, Mademoiselle Romsey!” cried Mme Noelle as I did my best to balance on one toe. “Smile!”

  I tried to smile.

  “Remember, you are a joyous young princess. You must show us zee excitement and hoppiness of youth!”

  I tried to act “hoppy.” It wasn’t easy, especially with Hilary Morgan glaring at me from the sidelines. Sometimes I felt bad about how much time Mme Noelle was spending with me, but the fact was that my role was very demanding. Still, I could tell that the other girls were jealous, and I really couldn’t blame them. I would have been jealous, too.

  But my phantom took jealousy a little too far. When I went into the dressing room on the day I’d been working on the Rose Adagio, I saw it right away. A note — in that same red ink — with a red rose attached. WATCH OUT FOR THE THORNS, it said.

  I stood looking at it for a moment. It gave me a creepy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Then I folded the note and tucked it into my bag. I looked at the rose, thinking that I’d take it home to my mom — at least it was pretty, and it probably smelled good. But when I picked it up, a thorn pricked my finger. “Ouch!” I said out loud. I squeezed my finger and a drop of blood oozed out.

  I looked around the dressing room to see who was there. Sure enough, all three suspects were among the dancers who were busy changing. Hilary was at the mirror, checking her hair. Katie Beth was by her locker — she was packing her dance clothes into her bag. And Carrie was just about to leave, but when she heard my little cry of pain, she turned around.

  “Are you okay, Jessi?” she asked, coming over to me. Then she saw the rose. “Hey, that’s pretty. Who’s sending you flowers?”

  I shrugged.

  “A secret admirer, huh? Hey, everybody, Jessi’s got a boyfriend!” she yelled.

  I was totally embarrassed. I tossed the rose into the garbage and got out of the dressing room as soon as I could, trying not to listen to the teasing that was going on. Dancing the Rose Adagio was never quite as much fun after that day. I was always thinking of that thorn pricking my finger, like a bee sting — and of that drop of red blood appearing afterward.

  But unlike Princess Aurora, I didn’t fall asleep for a hundred years after I pricked my finger. Instead, I became more alert. I was dying to catch the phantom in the act.

  I thought of hiding in the dressing room so that I could be there when she stuck a note into my bag. But that wouldn’t work. Mme Noelle would notice my absence from rehearsal right away, since I was in almost every act. All I could do was wait — and watch.

  I watched very closely. I tried to pay attention to where each of the three suspects was at all times. But it wasn’t easy. Mme Noelle kept me busy throughout almost every rehearsal.

  One day, Carrie bumped into me about three times during rehearsal. That day, I was sure that she was the phantom.

  At another rehearsal, I overheard Hilary whispering mean things about me to Lisa Jones. I was convinced that Hilary was the one who was out to get me.

  Then Katie Beth started to give me funny looks. I’d catch her watching me as I put on my toe shoes, or staring at me during exercises at the barre. I certainly couldn’t rule her out, either.

  I was getting more and more confused, and to make it worse, the notes kept coming.

  GIVE UP THE ROLE BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE, said one. I shook my head and tucked it into my bag with the rest.

  After the next rehearsal, there was another. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, it said.

  But you know what? Instead of scaring me, those notes started to make me angrier and angrier. I became more determined to solve this mystery and find out who the phantom was. Then I’d tell everything to Mme Noelle, and the performance — with me as Princess Aurora — would go off without a hitch.

  One day, Carrie was absent from rehearsal. She was home with the flu, according to Madame. That day we worked extra hard on one of the most difficult parts of the dance.

  When we’re learning a dance, Mme Noelle makes us do the movements over and over again, until it finally looks right. Even once we’ve learned the basic steps, we keep repeating them. If we do even one little thing wrong, she makes us do it over again. If we do it right, we still have to do it again — “for luck.”

  Rehearsals can be so exhausting.

  That day, I was ready to drop as I headed into the dressing room. The last thing I needed was to find another note. But there it was, in that creepy red ink. TAKE A REST, SLEEPING BEAUTY! I rolled my eyes as I put the note away. When was this going to end?

  Then I realized something. Carrie was absent And I’d still received a note. Finally, I was getting somewhere with this mystery. I could rule out Carrie, which would leave me with only two suspects.

  Unless … had Carrie only been pretending to be sick — and gotten someone to leave the note for her? I shook my head. That was pretty unlikely. She wouldn’t miss a rehearsal unless she really had to.

  So it was down to Katie Beth and Hilary. How was I going to figure out which one of them it was? I decided just to wait and see what would happen. If I could rule one of them out, I’d have my phantom.

  Carrie was still sick at the next rehearsal. I felt bad for her, missing all that practice time. Now that I knew she wasn’t the phantom, I kind of missed having her around.

  But it was a relief to have to watch only two suspects instead of three. I found that I could concentrate better — and it showed in my dancing. Mme Noelle told me that I was magnifique that day. That’s “magnificent” in French.

  It always feels great to have Mme Noelle compliment you. She doesn’t say nice things unless she really means them. So that afternoo
n I was feeling terrific. I danced the Rose Adagio without missing a step. My pas de deux with the Bluebird of Happiness was nearly perfect. And I got through the scene where the prince kisses me without giggling once. It was a great rehearsal.

  It was great, that is, until I almost got beaned by some scenery.

  In that theater, most of the scenery is painted on huge flats that can be raised and lowered on ropes. When they’re in the raised position, the ropes are securely tied so they can’t fall. And when it’s time for the scene to change, the flat is slowly let down to the floor. Each flat must weigh about a ton — they’re so big!

  There were a lot of different flats for the Sleeping Beauty scenery. There was the grand ballroom, the magic forest, and the sleeping castle, where Princess Aurora lies awaiting her prince. I’d gotten used to the flats moving up and down during rehearsals, while the stage managers practiced their cues just like we practiced ours.

  Anyway, that day I had just finished my final dance with the prince, and I was walking to the rear of the stage so that I could collapse quietly while Mme Noelle went over her notes on who — and what — needed improvement.

  I didn’t even see the flat falling. Before I knew what was happening, someone had pushed me out of the way. The flat hit the stage with a loud crash, right where I had been standing only seconds before.

  I felt dizzy. Was this another “accident”? I looked around, trying to get my bearings. Someone was standing next to me, asking if I was all right. It was Katie Beth. She was the one who had pushed me out of the way.

  “Thanks, Katie Beth!” I said, as soon as I could speak. “I hate to imagine what would have happened if that thing had hit me!”

  “I’m glad it didn’t,” she said, smiling at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She was being so nice. I felt terrible for ever being suspicious of her. “I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks again.”

  Rehearsal ended a few minutes later. I walked off the stage and into the dressing room, thinking hard. So Carrie wasn’t sending me those notes, and obviously Katie Beth wasn’t, either. Was Hilary really the phantom? And if she was, how could I prove it?

  That’s what I asked my friends later that day at a club meeting. I’d filled them in on my detective work so far, and they were excited to hear that the pool of suspects had been narrowed down to one.

  “You’re almost there!” said Stacey.

  “But I still have to prove that Hilary is the phantom,” I said. “Any ideas?”

  Everybody thought for a few minutes. Finally Kristy said, “You have to set up some kind of trap for her,” said Kristy. “Let her prove her own guilt.”

  “But how?” asked Claudia. Then a light seemed to turn on in her eyes. “Let me see those notes again, Jessi!”

  I handed them to her. Luckily I’d saved every one. Dawn leaned over to examine them again with Claudia.

  “You don’t see writing like this every day,” said Dawn. “I noticed that before, when I looked at the first few.”

  “You’re right,” said Claudia slowly. “And I know why the writing looks so different. It’s because the writer is using a special pen — the kind you do calligraphy with.”

  “Calligraphy? What’s that?” asked Mary Anne.

  “It’s the fancy writing on wedding invitations and stuff like that,” said Claudia. “It’s pretty and slanted — and some parts of the letters are thick and other parts are thin. A girl in my art class has a calligraphy pen. It has a sharp, flat point and you can write thick or thin, depending on how you hold the pen.”

  “So what are you getting at?” asked Kristy.

  “Well, all Jessi has to do is to trap Hilary into writing something, so she can see if the samples match,” said Claud, smiling.

  “Whoa!” said Stacey. “Claud, you’re the Nancy Drew of Stoneybrook.”

  Claudia blushed. “Oh, yeah?” she said. “Well, if I’m Nancy Drew, who’s Bess?”

  We all laughed. Bess is Nancy Drew’s “plump” sidekick, the one who’s always eating.

  “How come detectives always have a chubby friend?” asked Mallory. “There’s one in the Hardy Boys, too — and in the Three Investigators. Did you ever notice that?”

  Claudia laughed. “I know. I guess it’s all just part of being a super crime solver. So, Stace, you’re just going to have to gain some weight!” She stuck an elbow into Stacey’s side, and we all cracked up.

  I thought Claudia’s idea was great. Now all I had to do was figure out how to get Hilary to write something — in front of me.

  For the next few days, I spent most of my free time just thinking. I had to figure out a foolproof way to trap Hilary. But for the longest time I couldn’t think of a single good idea.

  During rehearsals, I watched Hilary out of the corner of my eye. She was no dummy, I knew that. It wasn’t going to be simple to trick her into confessing. But that’s what I had to do.

  For awhile I considered looking through her locker, checking to see if she owned a pen like the one Claud had described. But that seemed risky — and it didn’t feel right to me. Just because she might be the person who had stolen my stuff didn’t make it all right for me to poke through her things.

  Then I thought I could just ask her to write something down for me. I’d tell her that I was doing a school project — about how to analyze handwriting. No, that was too farfetched. She’d never believe me.

  If only we went to the same school, I could ask her if I could borrow her notes from a certain class. But Hilary goes to a private school. So that was out. I was at a dead end.

  Finally, in desperation, I called Mallory one night. I had been trying not to take up too much of the club’s time with my problem, but after all, Mal was my best friend. If I couldn’t ask her for help, who could I ask? I dialed her number.

  Somebody answered in a tiny little voice. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Claire,” I said. “This is Jessi.”

  “Hi,” she replied, breathing into the phone.

  “Is Mallory there?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. But she didn’t ask if I wanted to speak to her. Kids her age are like that. You have to take everything one step at a time.

  “Can I talk to her?” I asked hopefully.

  “Okay,” said Claire. I heard the phone fall to the floor as she dropped it. Then I heard her footsteps as she ran off to get Mallory. It seemed to take Claire forever to find her, but I was used to waiting for Mal to come to the phone.

  Somebody picked up the receiver a few minutes later, but it wasn’t Mal. It was Nicky. “Who’s this?” he asked.

  I told him who it was. “Hi, Jessi!” he said. “Guess what! There’s going to be a pet show, and Frodo’s going to be in it!”

  I could tell that he was really excited about it — and unlike Becca, he didn’t seem to mind that he only had a hamster to enter in the show. We talked for a couple of minutes, and then Mallory picked up the phone in the kitchen.

  “Okay, Nicky!” she said. “You can hang up now.” We waited for a moment, but Nicky didn’t hang up. I heard him breathing on the line. He was probably hoping to listen in on our conversation.

  “Come on, Nicky!” said Mal. “I’ll give you a dime later on if you’ll hang up right now.” Click. Finally!

  “What’s up, Jess?” asked Mal.

  “I need your help,” I said. “I just can’t seem to figure out how to trap Hilary.”

  “Okay, let’s think,” said Mallory. “You can’t be too obvious about it. You’ve got to be like that detective on TV. You know, the one who always makes the suspect feel like they have nothing to worry about, and then — BAM! — he gets them.”

  “Well, I don’t think Hilary realizes that I suspect her,” I said. “I’ve been trying to act really cool around her, so that she won’t guess.” It hadn’t been that hard. We’d been incredibly busy at rehearsals lately.

  “Good,” said Mal. “Now, let’s look at her personality. There must be some weakness tha
t we can take advantage of.”

  “You mean, like, that she’s kind of vain?” I asked. I told Mal how Hilary is always looking in the mirror to check on her fancy French braid.

  “Yeah, something like that is good. Now think,” said Mal. “How can we use that against her?”

  “Maybe I could tell her that I thought she’d make a better Princess Aurora than me,” I said, thinking out loud. “She’s so vain that she’d probably agree with me, and that would almost prove that she’s trying to get rid of me so that she can have the part!” I was excited.

  “Jessi,” said Mal, “that wouldn’t really prove anything, except that she thinks she’s a better dancer than you.” She was silent for a moment. “No, we’ve got to come up with something better than that,” she said. “Keep thinking.”

  “What if I just try to catch her off guard with some casual comment?” I asked. “Like ‘Hey, thanks for all those notes you sent me!’ Then, if she looks upset, that would give her away.”

  “It might work,” said Mallory. “But you’ll need witnesses, and that could get complicated. Plus, what if she just denies everything? Then you’ll have totally blown it.”

  I had to agree that Mal was right. But I just couldn’t come up with any other ideas. We talked a while longer and then said good-bye, agreeing to talk some more the next day.

  After dinner that night I helped Aunt Cecelia dry the dishes. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. Then, out of nowhere, I had this great idea. “That’s it!” I said out loud. Aunt Cecelia gave me a funny look.

  “What’s it?” she asked, shaking the soapy water off her hands.

  I almost wished I could talk to her about my idea, but I knew it was better not to. I hadn’t told her — or my parents — anything about the phantom. It would just make them worry.

  “Nothing, Aunt Cecelia,” I said. “I was thinking out loud. Is it okay if I go do my homework now?”

  She nodded. “We’re just about done here, Jessica. Thanks for your help.” She looked at me carefully, as if she knew there was something I wasn’t telling her. It’s not easy to fool Aunt Cecelia. She doesn’t let much get past her. “Go on, now,” she said finally.