“If you would feel safer in another room,” Nancy said, “we can arrange it. I’m staying where we are.
“But why expose yourself to danger?”
“What’s to prevent him and his pals from finding us in another room? If we leave the hotel, we might lose track of our enemies. I don’t want to do that. I want to catch them!”
“Nancy’s right,” George agreed. “We’re a team, and facing the danger is winning half the battle!”
The girls stopped near room 968.
“There it is!” Nancy cried, seeing something that lay on the hallway carpet. She hurried forward and picked it up. “It’s a metal stamp,” she said.
On the bottom was the strange serpentine symbol that appeared on the gold mask!
8
Valuable Outburst
Were the intruder and Isakos working together as art thieves? Nancy wondered. If so, had one of them planted the mask in her shopping bag, hoping the police would arrest her if she tried to return it?
“This is absolutely incredible,” George said, staring at the stamp.
“It must be used to identify all the stuff stolen from the museum,” Bess suggested.
But why was the stranger carrying the stamp with him? Why, too, had he thrown it away so carelessly? Was it done in a fit of frustration?
No immediate answers came to the three detectives as they went into their room.
“Maybe we ought to investigate St. Mark’s monastery,” George said, “It wouldn’t surprise me if Isakos and his friend try to steal some of the icons. ”
“And stamp them with this,” George added.
“Uh-huh. I have a feeling we’re in for another long night,” Bess moaned. “Didn’t Isakos say something about two or three in the morning?”
“Why don’t we take a nap for a few hours?” Nancy suggested. She removed Mr. Mousiadis’s car keys from her purse and put them next to her digital alarm clock. “Seeing these when I wake up will spur me out of bed. She laughed.
None of the girls slept soundly. When they awoke, it was one o’clock.
“All set?” Nancy asked cheerily.
Bess lifted her head from the pillow, then mumbled something and turned over.
“Come on, sleepyhead!” her cousin prodded her.
“Go away,” Bess murmured, but forced herself to get up.
Once she dampened her face, Bess was as eager as the others to begin their journey into the hills. But the monotonous drone of the car engine soon made her sleepy again.
“How much farther do we have to go?” Bess asked when they reached the edge of the city.
“Only a few more miles,” Nancy replied, stifling a yawn.
Soon she turned the car onto a narrow roadway that twisted between darkened houses and rows of cypress trees that grew more dense as the iron gate of the monastery came into view. A lone candle was burning dimly in a window.
“How do we get in?” Bess whispered. “The gate looks locked.”
Nancy pulled the car to a halt and shut off the headlights. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” she declared.
Careful not to make any noise, the three sleuths crept out into the moonlight and moved toward the gate.
“We’re in luck,” Nancy whispered excitedly. “The bolt’s broken.”
“Maybe someone forced it!” Bess declared.
“Or maybe it’s just rusty,” her cousin said, helping Nancy swing back the heavy gate.
Quietly they stole across the paved courtyard, glancing at the candlelit window, and hid near a tree. Suddenly a loud wail drew monks from their cells.
“What’s going on?” Bess whispered to the others.
She stuck her head out from behind the tree trunk to watch the men scurrying through the chapel doors at the far end of the courtyard.
“Do you want them to see us?” George asked, yanking her cousin back next to her.
“They won’t. It’s pitch-black,” Bess retorted.
“Sh!” Nancy signalled them to stop talking.
She noticed a glow of light dance on and off across the pavement. Perhaps one of the monks had remained in his cell, turned on a lamp for a moment, then shut it off. But to her surprise the light flickered several times. Was it a signal?
The cousins had also noticed it, but kept quiet as a man in a long black robe darted in front of their hiding place. The wailing sound had stopped and the other priests quickly returned to the courtyard, immediately dispersing to their rooms.
“Let’s go to the gardens,” Nancy said in a low voice.
Bess grasped her friend’s arm. “What if they all come out again?” she asked nervously.
“What if, what if,” George grumbled. “What if the sky falls down, Chicken Little?
With a deep frown, Bess stepped away from the old gnarled tree.
“Stand where you are!” a deep voice ordered.
“Oh!” Bess gasped, freezing in fear.
Nancy whirled and found herself facing the grizzly detective who had tried to arrest her at the museum ! “Have you been following us?” she asked.
On the way to the monastery, Nancy had noticed a pair of headlights bearing down on her car, but it had whipped past when she parked.
“I—how you say—have had my eye on you all. ”
“But I didn’t tell anyone where we were going,” the girl sleuth said.
“Doesn’t matter. Your hotel has been very helpful to the police.”
“You mean that someone at the Skyros has been reporting our comings and goings to you?” George inquired in disbelief.
The detective ignored the question. “You have no right to be here,” he charged. “This is private property. ”
“We’re investigating something,” George explained indignantly.
Afraid that Bess, out of fright, might reveal too much, Nancy said quickly, “We have reason to believe that someone is planning to steal things from this monastery. He may be doing it this very minute!”
“Ridiculous!” the detective sneered.
“If you don’t believe us,” George spoke up impulsively, “we’ll show you!”
“We will?” Bess asked in surprise.
In the back of George’s mind and Nancy’s was the thought that the man in the black robe might have been Isakos or his partner! Nancy glanced at her watch. It was almost 2:30 A.M.
“He went down there,” Nancy said, pointing to a stone passageway across the courtyard.
She led the way to a small room. The wooden door was open a crack and George pushed against it gently. Nancy noticed the walls were devoid of any decoration. There was only a simple altar where a monk knelt in prayer. He jerked up suddenly when the door hinge squeaked, but he did not turn around.
“Oh, excuse me,” George apologized. She closed the door.
When the group stood once more in the moonlight, the detective chided them severely. “If I catch you doing something like this again, I will have you sent home!”
“But—” Bess muttered.
“Not another word,” the man snapped. “Go back to your hotel at once!”
He strode through the iron gate, escorting the girls to their car to make certain they left before he did.
“What a pill!” Bess commented.
“You can say that again,” George agreed.
Nancy, on the other hand, kept her thoughts to herself. Disappointed as well as weary, she drove back to Omonia Square, parked the car, then walked across the street into the empty lobby of their hotel. Even the desk clerk was snoring peacefully in a chair.
“First thing in the morning,” Bess stated as they reached their room, “I’d like to go back to the jewelry shop in monastiraki—the one we went to before. ”
“How early?” George asked.
“Oh, seven or eight,” Bess teased.
“You two go ahead,” Nancy yawned. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Not all day, are you?” Her friends giggled, knowing how unlike Nancy that would b
e.
The next morning, Nancy was the first one up. Despite the fact she had slept only six hours, she was remarkably refreshed. Bess and George also felt a new surge of energy.
“I can’t wait to ask that lady the million-dollar question,” Bess said mysteriously.
“Which lady and what question?” George asked.
“The lady in the jewelry shop—” her cousin replied, catching herself before saying more.
When the trio entered the shop, two women stood behind the counter. “You buy more?” the older one asked, recognizing the girls.
“No, not today, thank you,” Bess said, quickly adding, “Is Constantine Nicholas here, by any chance?”
George glanced at Nancy for her reaction.
“He works here, doesn’t he?” Nancy put in.
The younger woman flashed her brown eyes at the girl. “He’s not-I don’t know where he is. What do you want with him?”
“I merely-” Bess started to say.
“And if he should come back,” she thundered excitedly, “he belongs to me. You cannot have him!”
Bess was shocked by the implication. “You don’t under—”
“I understand—”
Cutting off the reply sharply, the older woman lashed out at her in Greek. Nancy knew it was useless to ask more questions.
“Bess? George?” she said quietly, nodding toward the door. They excused themselves as Constantine’s friend stepped angrily behind the curtain.
As the girls turned the corner up the street, they broke into laughter. Bess said, “She thought I was trying to steal her man!”
“In a way,” Nancy said, “I’m glad she did. We picked up a lead on Constantine. He will probably stop by that shop sometime. ”
“So we should go back again, too,” George advised, “but without you, Bess.”
Her cousin made a face as Nancy spoke. “Isn’t it wonderful—we finally found someone who knows Helen Nicholas’s cousin!”
9
The Strange Statue
As the three girls continued their stroll, they found themselves at a sidewalk cafe in the middle of Syntagma Square. A soft breeze rustled their hair while they studied a menu.
“Parakaló, I’ll have a glass of visináda,” Nancy told the waiter.
“That sounds interesting,” Bess said. “K’ego, me too. ”
“Triá,” George joined in. Then, turning to Nancy, she asked, “What is it?”
The girl shrugged, a mischievous smile on her face. “I don’t know, but Helen Nicholas told me to try it sometime. It’s supposed to be very popular here. ”
In a few minutes, the waiter brought a tray of tall glasses filled with sweet cherry soda.
“Ooh, my favorite!” Bess said happily after she finished a long sip.
George, in the meantime, took a notepad from her purse and tore off several pieces of paper.
“What are you doing?” her cousin asked as she watched the girl write a word or two on each sheet.
“I thought we ought to play tic-tac-toe again. It might help us solve our Greek symbol mystery. ”
So far George had written the words inheritance, Helen, Constantine, and Dimitri.
“Don’t forget Isakos,” Bess put in.
“Or ship, the gold mask, and symbol,” Nancy added.
On the remaining pieces of paper, George wrote down Papadapoulos and Mrs. Thompson.
“That’s a lot of clues,” Bess remarked. She arranged the words in tic-tac-toe fashion, hoping to make sense out of all the connections. “It’s no use,” she said at last. “They don’t fit together.”
It was Nancy’s turn next. She set her glass of soda near the edge of the table and picked up the piece of paper bearing the name Constantine.
“I’ll put him here,” she said, placing the paper in the right-hand corner of the imaginary block.
“What about Helen?” Bess asked, resting her head on her arm.
“In the bottom left corner,” Nancy said, then quickly arranged six other pieces so that the game board looked like this:
symbol
ship
Helen
gold mask
inheritance
Constantine
Dimitri
Isakos
“Where do the Papadapoulos family and Mrs. Thompson fit in?” George asked.
“Oh, they’re just innocent bystanders,” Nancy replied.
“And what about the blank space in the middle?” Bess pointed.
“Maybe it’s an unknown clue,” Nancy suggested.
“Or,” Bess went on, “you could put your name in there. ”
She was about to tear off another piece of paper from George’s pad when a large cat jumped up and charged across the table without warning.
“Oh!” George exclaimed.
The glasses teetered, then two of them fell over before the girls could prevent it. Soda spilled on some of the papers while the rest floated away in the gusting wind.
Nancy dived after them, instantly catching two. The others, however, fluttered in the path of a Greek girl, who retrieved them.
“Here you are,” the young woman said pleasantly, handing the papers to her.
“You’re Constantine’s friend,” Nancy said, recognizing her from the jewelry shop.
“That’s right, I-I’m very sorry about what happened there,” she replied contritely.
As the two walked toward Bess and George, a waiter was mopping up liquid from the table. The cousins gasped to see the young woman again.
“I am Stella Anagnost,” she said, introducing herself.
“And I’m Bess Marvin,” Bess replied, extending her hand. “This is my cousin, George Fayne.”
“And you are?” Stella asked as she glanced at Nancy.
“Nancy Drew.” The girl detective’s thoughts were focused on Stella’s change of attitude. Although Nancy was eager to ask questions, she waited for Stella to speak first.
“Do you know where Constantine is? I mean, have you any idea at all?” the pretty girl said.
“No, we don’t,” George answered.
“I know he must be in some sort of trouble,” Stella said anxiously. “He hasn’t been to the shop in a long time and he has stopped calling me. The last time I saw him he acted very strange—”
“Stella!” A man had stopped by their table and addressed the Greek girl angrily. “You have work to do. Come with me!”
Aghast, the young detectives stared at the stranger, who resembled the man they had seen with Isakos. What was Stella’s connection with the men? they wondered. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the chair.
“Just a few more minutes,” she pleaded. “They can help me find Constantine—”
“Stop it, stop such nonsense!” the man exclaimed, forcing her to go with him.
“But Mimi—” Stella spurted. She tried to break away from her captor, but was no match for him.
“Mimi?” Bess repeated, watching the pair disappear into a taxi.
Before the man stepped inside the car, a small silver money clip fell out of his pocket. He did not hear it hit the pavement as he shouted at Stella, jumped in, and was driven away. Nancy raced to retrieve the clip.
“Look at this!” she exclaimed and showed it to her friends. On the back of the money clip were the initials D.V. “Mimi is a Greek nickname for Dimitri,” Nancy recalled from her study of the Greek dictionary.
“Too bad his initials aren’t D.G.,” George remarked. “Otherwise he might be the missing Mr. Georgiou.”
Nancy pocketed the new clue. “When we see Stella again, we can return it to her and get some more information.”
“You mean if we see her again,” George replied. “It looks as if she’s mixed up with the wrong kind of people. They may really hurt her if she steps out of line.”
“I think her biggest trouble is Constantine,” Bess declared. “She’s crazy about him.”
“Well, since the jewelry shop will be closing i
n a few minutes,” George said, “we may as well hang on to the money clip and do some sightseeing before we miss Athens altogether.”
“I agree,” Bess said.
“How about going to the Acropolis?” Nancy suggested. She gathered the pieces of paper on which George had written the important clues. “These go into the purse, too. ”
The rays of the afternoon sun were tongues of fire as the girls began to look for a cab. Each car, it seemed, already had passengers.
“It’s getting frightfully hot out here,” Bess complained, feeling a trickle of perspiration drain across her neck.
Nancy finally managed to flag down a free cab, which they took. The windows were lowered, allowing hot air to circulate freely as they sped through the crowded streets.
When the cab reached the entrance to the Acropolis, the visitors stepped out to walk the rest of the way. They paid an entrance fee at the gate, then began the long, hard climb. Ahead of them was the Parthenon. Like a crown jewel, the temple stood majestically among the ancient ruins.
“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” George said, admiring the tall Doric columns flanked by marble porticoes.
Nancy’s gaze traveled to the north side where a magnificent colonnaded hall had once overlooked the old marketplace. “You know, a number of sculptures were taken from here in the early 1800s,” she remarked.
“Were they stolen?” Bess asked instantly.
“No, no. Lord Elgin, who was the British ambassador in Turkey at the time, received permission from the government to remove the pieces. Athens was then part of the Turkish Empire.”
Bess’s expression remained quizzical. “What did Elgin do with the sculptures?” she inquired further.
“He sold them to Great Britain, which in turn placed them in the British Museum in London.”
“What a story,” George commented. “I understand that more recently other statues were also removed by the Greek government. ”
“That’s right,” Nancy said. “Because of pollution and the fact that tourists had started to chip off marble for mementos.”
Bess shook her head in disgust as they all collapsed into silence and drew near another set of columns. They heard a low, indistinct murmur that seemed to shift from one column to another.