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Scorpion Scare






 

Soon after the incident had occurred, the driver of the hatchback had leaped out of sight. He had raced the car down to the corner and swerved onto a main road that led to the River Heights Theater.

The Jansen troupe’s performance was under way, and the boy determined there was only an hour left before it finished. He turned into the parking area, which was less full than the night before, and stopped his car near the exit. He jumped out, holding a metal canister with punctures in the lid.

Smirking, he darted into the empty lobby, where he waited a moment as the buoyant melody emanating from the orchestra began to end. He then opened the door a crack, removed the lid of the canister, and freed from its prison a large, black scorpion. Urged forward, the insect crawled out, revealing its monstrous claws and poisonous sting!

The boy pulled back, shutting the door without being seen and listening for the first shriek of discovery.

The venomous animal, however, followed an even trail down the middle of the aisle until it was past the halfway mark. Then the glow of stage lights captured it and several couples in end seats screamed frantically.

“Help! ” a woman cried as the jointed legs of the scorpion scurried off the carpet.

The man seated next to her shouted over the growing din in the audience. “It’s a scorpion! ” he exclaimed.

“Take the side exits! ” another voice yelled.

Now the pandemonium struck the performers. The conductor ordered the musicians to leave the pit and the actors on stage fell into disarray as the house lights came up, sending the scorpion under a row of now-vacant seats.

“This is the last straw, ” one woman snapped in disgust as she charged out of the theater. “I wouldn’t come here again if you paid me! ”

Her complaints were echoed by practically everyone who fled through the lobby in fear of the venomous creature.

“Please—please, ” the festival manager muttered helplessly. “We’ll take care of everything.”

But his weak promises went unheard, as he watched the departing crowd head for the parking lot. There the boy who had deposited the scorpion in the theater laughed. He waited, however, until the last car left, then went back inside where the festival manager had called the police to report the incident.

The manager was asking for emergency assistance as the boy stepped forward.

“Gee, what happened, Mr. Hillyer? ” he asked.

“Oh, Brady, ” the manager replied. “Somebody let a scorpion loose in the theater.”

“That’s terrible, ” the boy said, trying not to appear overly concerned as he went on. “Do you suppose you’ll have to shut down the festival after all? ”

“I guess your real concern is whether we’ll be able to give you the job we talked about.”

“Yes, sir, ” Brady said.

Mr. Hillyer heaved a long, steady sigh. “Frankly, my boy, I doubt that the festival can last much longer. The Jansen troupe has already informed me they are canceling their contract with us.”

His listener was almost gleeful to hear the news, but he remained solemn.

“So maybe if the Castleton Theater still wants them, ” Brady said, “the Jansen company will go back there.”

“We’ve had problems ever since Jansen made the last-minute switch, ” the manager said.

“As you know, Pa works the sound booth for the Castleton Theater, ” the boy replied, “and he told me all about it.”

Hillyer was too distraught to pursue the conversation further. He let the young man leave when the police arrived. Brady hopped into his car, turned the radio up, and drove away.

Ned, in the meantime, had managed to pull himself off the Flannerys’ driveway. He dragged his feet toward the backyard, noting darkness throughout the house. He told himself that he would risk an unpleasant encounter with the couple when he inquired about Nancy.

But as he climbed the porch steps, he noticed a trail of bread crumbs.

That’s odd, he thought. Why would anyone throw out food for birds at night?

He didn’t think about it further as he knocked on the door. No one came, however. Maybe they couldn’t hear him, he surmised, and he darted to the front, still trying to ignore the throb under his skull.

He rang the bell a long time. There was still no answer. Had the Flannerys left the house?

As Ned returned to his car, he did not observe the flat tire against the curb. He started the ignition and began to steer, rolling the vehicle forward. Suddenly, he was aware that one wheel was spinning on its rim. He cut off the engine and jumped out to examine it. The small valve cap on the tire had been removed and air had been allowed to escape!

Had his attacker done this? Ned wondered. Yet, somehow, that idea was hard to comprehend. How, for instance, could the stranger have abducted Nancy and pulled off the nozzle without her slipping away? Perhaps there were two people involved in the abduction.

Before he could mull over the question, Ned dived into his trunk and took out an air pump which he quickly hooked up. He gazed along the curb for the missing cap and discovered it had been thrown up on someone’s lawn.

Several minutes later he was on his way to the Drew house, where a downstairs light had been left on for Nancy. It was approaching midnight as the boy pressed the bell.

It was a surprise that Hannah, rather than Mr. Drew, came to the door.

“Is Mr. Drew asleep? ” Ned asked as the housekeeper’s eyes traveled beyond the boy.

“Where’s Nancy? ” she said, disregarding his question.

“She’s gone.”

From the somber tone of the boy’s voice, Hannah knew that trouble lurked in his explanation.

“Mr. Drew received an urgent call from the police, ” she said. “He’s been down at the River Heights Theater for almost forty-five minutes.”

Ned quickly revealed what had happened to him, adding, “Nancy just vanished into thin air.”

“Oh, dear, ” the woman frowned. “Well, don’t waste your time here. You’d better find Mr. Drew right away.”

The young man pulled out of the driveway, still feeling sluggish, but he propelled himself as fast as he could to the theater. When he arrived, he was astonished to find the lawyer defending himself against Hillyer’s rash accusations.

“That is all your fault! ” the manager grumbled. He was pointing to an empty metal canister and another container alongside it that now held the dead scorpion.

“You are being ridiculous, ” Mr. Drew said in an even voice. “How could I have any connection with what happened here tonight? ”

“Ever since you forced the Jansen troupe out of their arrangement in Castleton—”

“I didn’t force them, Mr. Hillyer. The town of River Heights made an offer which received the approval of every board member. I, for one, did not even know that Jansen had a pre-existing deal with Castleton. The mayor of River Heights informed me he had seen them perform elsewhere and suggested we line them up here. When I called their business manager, he made only a glib reference to a pending contract. But the impression he gave me was that it wasn’t very satisfactory. It isn’t my fault they accepted our proposal instead. Obviously, it was a better one than Castleton‘s! ”

Mr. Drew had spoken with a clarity that rivaled the temper of his listener.

“All I know, ” Hillyer went on, “is that we will lose a tremendous amount of money if we have to close down the festival.”

“Mr. Hillyer, rather than sputtering about that, wouldn’t it behoove us all to try and figure out who is causing all the trouble? ”

Although Mr. Drew had seen Ned, the intensity of his conversation and the police officers who flanked the two men prevented him from addressing the boy. Ned, also, did not wish to interrupt. But as the discussion wore on, he listened with greater interest.

“Tell me, Mr. Hillyer, did you not see anyone strange enter the premises? ” one officer questioned.

The manager had steered his vision away from Mr. Drew. “No, I told you that before.”

“But who was that kid with the long hair? ”

“He must’ve been passing by when he saw the mass exodus. He knew the show couldn’t have finished yet, so he decided to find out what had happened.”

“What’s the boy’s name? ” Mr. Drew inquired, but Hillyer continued to direct his statements to the policeman.

“We’d like that information, if you don’t mind, ” the officer countered.

“Brady Tilson.”

“And what’s your connection with him? ”

“I don’t have a connection, officer. I merely offered him a job this morning.”

Now Ned stepped closer, wondering: Was this the boy whom he and Nancy had followed from Oberon College? If so, he was the one whom Nancy suspected of having attacked Vince, the sound and lighting technician! Had he returned again to plant the poisonous scorpion?

As the men’s conversation diverted to the exact moment when the disruption had occurred, Mr. Drew spoke. “From what I overheard Mr. Hillyer say earlier, Brady arrived only minutes after the trouble started—around ten o‘clock or so.”

“Ten-thirty would be more exact, ” an officer put in.

Ten-thirty, Ned repeated to himself. That was only a short time after his attack. Might there be a connection between the two events?

 






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