Intrigue at the Grand Opera by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

10

Another Diva Down

Nancy sprang to Marta’s side to look at the necklace. “Was there a note attached?”

Marta shook her head. “Donald never puts a note on his gifts,” Greta explained. “If it’s a butterfly, we just know it’s from him.”

Nancy frowned. “But someone else could have sent this, to frame Donald for the theft.”

Greta looked skeptical. “Then where is Donald’s gift? He always sends something, and it’s always a butterfly. This has to be from Donald. Only . . . Where did he get that necklace?”

“Did he know about the burglary?” Steven asked Greta. “Maybe he went out and bought a similar necklace for Marta to replace the one he knew she’d lost.”

Greta nodded. “That would be just like Donald. So thoughtful.”

Marta had been turning the necklace over in her hands. Looking up, she shook her head. She held it out to Greta, pointing at a small gold medallion hanging from the clasp. Greta studied it and sighed. “The same inscription from Mario. This is the original.”

Nancy winced as she saw the two women fingering the necklace. Whatever fingerprints might have been on it were being rubbed away.

Just then a tumult of applause rose from the auditorium. Marta sank back and closed her eyes. As if reading her mind, Steven murmured, “ ‘Vissi d’arte,’ Tosca’s great show-stopping aria. Sounds like Rosa brought down the house.” He turned his face away. Nancy thought that his emotions must be sharply split; he was probably half grateful for Rosa’s triumph, and half sharing Marta’s pain at being thrust aside.

Suddenly Marta rose from her seat. She strode over to the dressing table and, with one dramatic sweep of her arm, knocked all her makeup paraphernalia to the floor. Greta leaped up and held the distraught singer by her shoulders. “Marta, please . . .”

Marta yanked open her dressing gown, stomped over to the clothes rack, and began raking her fingers through the garments hanging there. “Let’s go back to the hotel,” Greta suggested. “Before the act ends.”

“Great idea,” Steven said quickly. “Rest and recuperation, that’s the thing. I’ll pop out and alert your limousine driver.” He ducked out of the dressing room, surely relieved to have an excuse to escape.

“I can’t find your cloak, Marta. Maybe it’s back at the hotel,” Greta fussed. “Here, this will do.” She flung a brown overcoat around Marta’s shoulders and hurriedly swept together their belongings, including the butterfly and the restored necklace. Nancy bit her lip. She wanted to examine the gift, but it would blow her cover. Until Steven revealed that Nancy was a detective, she had to lie low.

Nancy trailed behind Marta and Rosa as they headed for the stage door. Marta held her chin high, as if refusing to be pitied. The guard muttered some words of sympathy as he swung open the door for the singer.

To Nancy’s surprise, there were a dozen people waiting on the sidewalk, even though the opera was not over. Nancy scanned their faces. Donald Tompkins wasn’t among them.

The opera buffs crowded around Marta as she emerged.

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