Cherry Ames 09 Cruise Nurse (19 page)

Cherry took a deep breath, wishing that she were more of an accomplished orator. Gently, she pulled Jan down on the sofa beside her.

“Jan,” she began soberly, “you have every right to go to the captain. But I hope that when I have fi nished my story you will decide against it.”

Jan’s hazel eyes were wide with bewilderment.

“What story? I don’t understand. Why shouldn’t I go to the captain?”

Cherry began at the beginning and somehow made Jan listen until she had fi nished. When Jan heard that the purser’s offi ce had twice been broken into she was all for racing up to the captain without wasting another minute:

JAN SETS A TRAP

179

“It’s Timmy’s Henry, of course. He may have already stolen that sealed package. If not, he’ll certainly get it tonight, Cherry. I’ve simply
got
to go to the captain.” Firmly, Cherry pulled her down beside her. She had not much hope of enlisting Jan’s sympathy for either Ziggy or Waidler. Jan did not know the former, and had said she disliked the latter.

“There’s no way I can convince you of what undue hardship disgrace would cause those two men,” Cherry said. “They might never be able to get another job at sea.

It would break their hearts. Do you think they deserve such a punishment for merely overlooking a few toilet articles? The whole kit and kaboodle couldn’t amount to more than a dollar or two.”

Jan bit her thumb between sharp white teeth. “That old bear of a Waidy! He grows on you. I disliked him intensely at fi rst, but now I wish Mother would hire him as our butler. He tells the most marvelous sea stories you ever heard, Cherry, and do you know? He’s got ten children ranging from eight months to daughters around your age! He adores children and says he’d like to have ten more!”

Cherry felt a surge of relief. Here at least was an opening wedge. She was quick to press her point. “It’s going to be awfully hard on his family if he loses his job.”

“Oh, Mother’ll hire him,” Jan said carelessly. “She doesn’t like our present butler anyway. He’s not very sympathetic with her headaches. And Waidy is. He hovered around her breakfast tray this morning like a 180
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AMES,

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mother hen. You’d think he wouldn’t worry about the appetite of anyone as plump as my mother!”

“Do you honestly think Waidy would enjoy a shore job?” Cherry put in quietly. “He’s as salty as the sea itself. And do you think it’s right that he should be dishonorably discharged after all the years of faithful service he’s given this line?”

Jan, looking like a tawny young lioness, began to pace the rug.

“It’s his future against mine,” she muttered. “If only we could be sure that the ambergris would be safe until we docked at Willemstad!” She came to a sudden halt in front of Cherry. “Tell me again what those toilet articles are.”

Cherry repeated the list, ending with, “Until Dr. Monroe told me that your uncle suffered from dyspepsia, I hoped he’d kept it in the milk-of-magnesia bottle.”

“Dyspepsia?” Jan’s blond eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But that’s perfectly silly, Cherry. Uncle Ben had a cast-iron stomach. During our walks through Central Park he would tuck away enormous quantities of popcorn, ice cream, peanuts, and sarsaparilla, especially sarsaparilla. He considered it the fi nest of all tonics. At one time he owned a plantation in Jamaica where they grew the stuff; tropical smilax, I think he called it. They exported the dried roots, and Uncle Ben said he made a lot of money.”

Cherry pricked up her ears. “Then he didn’t have the habit of chewing milk of magnesia tablets?”

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181

Jan relaxed into laughter. “You didn’t know Uncle Ben! I doubt if anyone could have made him take medicine in any form. His theory was that Nature knew best. If you craved something, no matter how fantastic, that was the very thing your system needed. I’ll bet if he ever had an upset stomach he would have chewed grass the way a dog does.”

Cherry joined in Jan’s laughter. “Well, he couldn’t get any grass at sea, and I don’t suppose the
Julita
is stocked with either seaweed or sarsaparilla. So he had to chew milk of magnesia tablets.” Suddenly Cherry sobered. “Oh, I see it all now! What a dumb bunny I was not to have seen it before. I was right the fi rst time, Jan. The ambergris
is
in that blue-glass pint bottle.” Jan stared at her. “What makes you so sure? It was completely out of character for my uncle to have had a bottle of milk of magnesia in his possession.
I
think your purser made a mistake; mixed up the contents of another passenger’s medicine cabinet with Uncle Ben’s.” Cherry grinned. “It was out of character for him to own milk of magnesia, but it was completely
in
character for him to have gone to fantastic lengths to make sure that nobody guessed that the blue bottle contained a powder, not a liquid. Don’t you see, Jan?

He put on an act from start to fi nish. He was shrewd enough to know that anyone who saw him eat quantities of indigestible food would know he had a cast-iron stomach and wonder why he kept a bottle of milk of magnesia on hand.
Unless
he complained constantly of dyspepsia! As Dr. Monroe said only a short while ago: 182
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AMES,

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NURSE

“ ‘If the old man had as much discomfort as he claimed he did, I feel sure he would have eaten more moderately.’

“My guess is,” Cherry went on, “that your uncle was afraid an old sea dog like Waidler might discover his precious ambergris while working around the stateroom.

Only a seasoned sailor would recognize the substance and its delicate odor. So, the very fi rst night, your Uncle Ben pretended to have an attack of dyspepsia.

He demanded a bottle of milk of magnesia.”

“Then,” Jan took up the story excitedly, “he poured the magnesia down the sink and fi lled the bottle with ambergris. Oh, it all dovetails perfectly. The very fi rst day at sea I asked our maid if she had taken care of the gentleman in 141 who had died at Curaçao last trip. She didn’t know I was his niece, of course, and she said:

“ ‘I certainly did. And a most peculiar old gentleman, he was, too. Wouldn’t let me wipe up his bathroom, I’ll have you know, miss. Said I was a clumsy girl and would be sure to drop things and break them on the tiled fl oor.’ ”

Cherry jumped up. “So now we
know.
Oh, Jan! All your troubles are over. By this time, Tuesday, your lawyer will be cabling big South American perfume manufacturers for bids. He may sell your ambergris for thousands and thousands of dollars.”

“I’m not hoping for a fortune,” Jan said. “Uncle said that it wouldn’t take much to make the property at Piscadera Bay salable. He didn’t plan to do anything to the house. It would have to be completely

JAN SETS A TRAP

183

modernized anyway. The beach is the valuable part of the property.”

Cherry smiled. “Someday we may meet again when you’re a famous artist.”

But Jan didn’t smile back. “My dream is just as far away as ever, Cherry,” she said tautly. “There’s no sense in counting chickens before they’re hatched. How do we know Timmy’s pirate friend won’t get that ambergris before we dock at Willemstad? I’ll send a cable to Mr. Camelot, of course, but Tuesday may be too late.

By that time the sealed package may contain everything except the only thing we want, a one-pint bottle of milk of magnesia!”

Cherry groaned inwardly. She could tell by the tense expression on Jan’s face that she still felt she should report the whole matter to the captain.

Desperately Cherry said, “He, or whoever it was who broke into the purser’s offi ce twice, doesn’t know what
w
e
know. It seems to me, if he took anything he’d take the tooth powder can. That would be the most logical thing to take.”

Jan shook her head. “I feel pretty sure now that Mr.

Henry Morgan Landgraf is none other than my uncle’s ex-partner. He knew Uncle Ben had the
ambre blanc
when he sailed on the
Julita
two weeks ago. It wouldn’t fi t into a tooth powder can. Uncle believed in traveling light. He probably bought a sample-sized can of tooth powder in a ten cent store.” She laughed mirthlessly.

“No, Cherry, I know you think I’m selfi sh, and I guess I am.” She raised her voice defi antly. “But I’m going to 184
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see the captain the fi rst thing in the morning. I don’t care if it is Christmas!”

Cherry said hotly: “You
are
selfi sh, Jan Paulding.” Jan stalked to the French windows and stood there looking out unseeingly at the glorious tropical sunset.

Cherry started for the door. There was nothing more she could say or do. Oh, why had she taken Jan into her confi dence; why had she broken the ship’s scuttlebutt rule? She had known all along that this determined young girl had a merciless, selfi sh, one-track mind. Or, she
should
have known it.

Jan had deliberately goaded her mother into a migraine attack. She had used sick little Timmy as an excuse to search his room. She had virtually, if not actually, lied to Cherry more than once.

Just reviewing the evidence made Cherry lose control of her temper. “I’ve been a complete fool,” she said in a loud, clear voice, not caring who heard. “I should never have offered to help you. And certainly I should never have trusted you. Go ahead and report the purser and Waidler to the captain. No doubt, I’ll be dismissed too. That should make your happiness complete, Jan Paulding.”

For answer, Jan turned suddenly, her fi nger to her lips. Then she yawned elaborately and strolled away from the window. Once in the far corner of the room she hissed:

“That man was listening out there on deck.

Mr. Landgraf. He just went back down to where Timmy’s having a sun bath. I don’t know how much he heard,

JAN SETS A TRAP

185

but anyway, he’s sure now that I’m going to the captain.

Of course, I’m not going to do anything of the kind, Cherry. I’m no tattletale. I’m selfi sh, yes, but not that selfi sh. I saw something move on the other side of that French door. So I deliberately said I was going to the captain tomorrow. Don’t you see, Cherry? That means he must act tonight if he wants to get the ambergris before I do. So we’ll simply set a trap and catch him in the act.” Cherry gulped. “Tr-trap? What kind of trap?” Jan shrugged airily. “It’s the only way, Cherry. You told me yourself you have a key to the purser’s offi ce.

So tonight during the Christmas Eve excitement, you’ll lock me safely inside. When Tim’s pirate friend comes sneaking in, I’ll wait until he’s jimmied the lock on the desk drawer. Then just as he’s about to depart with my ambergris, I’ll simply take it away from him. That way, none of your friends will be involved. I won’t even report Henry Landgraf to the captain. After all, he’s not a common, ordinary thief or he would have swiped the passengers’ jewels and money when he rifl ed the safe.” Cherry burst into rather hysterical laughter. “And how on earth, Jan Paulding,” she gasped, “do you think you’re going to take anything away from that big, powerful man?”

Jan looked blank.

“The whole scheme is preposterous,” Cherry said emphatically. “If anyone hides in the purser’s offi ce tonight, it’ll be Cherry Ames.”

“All right,” Jan promptly agreed. “You do it. But how on earth, Nurse Ames,” she mimicked, “do you think 186
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you’re going to take a bottle of milk of magnesia away from that big, powerful man?”

Cherry grinned. “I couldn’t, of course, any more than you could.” She sobered. “But there must he some way out of it, Jan. Let’s both think about it quietly and meet again after dinner. Between us, we should be able to cook up a plan.”

Jan moved her pale eyebrows expressively. “What about between now and then?”

“We don’t have to worry about anything until nine this evening,” Cherry answered. “Ziggy is in and out of his offi ce almost constantly until his bedtime. The only hitch would be if we were both called to emergency duty in sick bay. In that case, I’d tell you.”

“And,” Jan told her, “I’d think up some excuse so I could be lurking outside the purser’s offi ce until the coast was clear.”

“That’s right,” Cherry said. “Furthermore, I’ll have an opportunity to keep my eye on Mr. Landgraf for quite a while after dinner tonight. He’s going to carry Timmy up to the library to see the Christmas tree and hang up his stocking.”

“Wonderful,” Jan cried enthusiastically. “You know,” she added, “I can’t help liking that man, Cherry. Somehow, I honestly do think if he knew the ambergris belonged to me, he’d give it to me.”

“Well, if he is, as you suspect, your uncle’s ex- partner,” Cherry said doubtfully, “he must know that you’re his heir.”

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“Not necessarily,” Jan returned. “For one thing, Uncle Ben was very closemouthed about his private affairs. For another, he’d had absolutely nothing to do with any of us for years and years. I was a tiny baby the last time he saw my father, and he never wrote a line to any of the family. He told me himself he didn’t know why he called on Mother last month. It just seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess. He didn’t like either of my parents and he wasn’t the least bit sentimental. So as far as his partner was concerned, Uncle Ben just didn’t have any family to leave his share of the ambergris to.”

“But Mr. Landgraf knows about you now, doesn’t he?” Cherry countered.

“Of course not,” Jan said. “He doesn’t even know my last name. Timmy introduced us, and you know how
he
feels about last names.” Jan giggled. “Tim simply said:

‘Henry, Jan’s that dumb girl I was telling you about.

She couldn’t fi nd anything if it was on the end of her nose.’ ”

Jan sobered suddenly. “But he
does
know I’ve been searching Timmy’s cabin. He caught me the very fi rst day.” She shivered reminiscently. “He stared at me with those cold blue, blue eyes of his and said mockingly: