Two young men whispering in the aisle stared at Trixie curiously. After conferring for another couple of seconds, they approached her hesitantly.
"Excuse me, are you Mrs. Roberts?" asked the shorter of the two boys.
Without looking up from her book, Trixie answered shortly, "Yes?"
"Could you please answer a question for us?" the taller one said seriously.
Trixie looked up from her book with a disdainful expression on her face. "If I must."
Earnestly, the shorter, dark-haired boy asked, "I believe you were doing some research here last Friday night. Is that correct?"
Trixie shook her head firmly. "No. I wasn't here. In fact, I haven't set foot in the library the entire semester." She paused dramatically. "Until today, of course."
The two young men carefully wrote this information down in their notebooks. They looked again at her silently.
"Will that be all?" Trixie asked rudely. The two boys turned to each other, nodded, and walked over to the librarian behind the information desk for more questions.
Trixie turned back to her Lucy Radcliffe novel with a grin. SUNY Albany had been hosting this new student get together twice a year for six years, and Trixie, now a junior, had been a "suspect" in the murder mystery game four times now. She found she actually enjoyed being on the other end of the whodunit. Being suspected, interrogated, and sometimes accused was rather exhilarating.
The "mystery" began with a threatening message in red lipstick scrawled across the library's front windows. Each student was given a packet of background information, notebook and pen, and the first clue to solving the mystery when they arrived. Shortly after the teams were chosen and sent off to explore the library, "Professor Prune" would be found dead in the Mystery Novels section of the library. Students, professors, and librarians all played fictional parts in the story, each being provided with their character's history and answers to questions likely to be posed. The event would last until
Trixie, or rather "Mrs. Roberts", wasn't the murderer in this story, but her bright red lipstick and history with the victim often got her falsely accused before the murder was correctly solved. She had come up with her own subtle touch to the character by carrying around a Lucy Radcliffe mystery novel to try and throw the "detectives" off the trail.
The stillness in the library was broken by a scream. Trixie jumped out of her seat. The "murder" had been played out more than an hour ago. What on earth had caused this scream? Racing towards the sound along with several teams of students, Trixie turned the corner into the Literature section of the library. On the floor, unconscious, was Dr. Chapman, an English professor at the university who portrayed Professor Prune's archrival, Mr. Harrington. The students already gathered around him looked on in anticipation, thinking this was part of the mystery. But Trixie knew it wasn't. Pushing through the crowd, she knelt down next to Dr. Chapman and immediately reached for his wrist to check for a pulse. She found it, weak but steady. She turned to one of the librarians.
"Call
One by one, the students sensed this was not a part of the show and backed away, either from fear or to allow more experienced people to help. One of these was Dan Mangan. He was participating for the first year after hearing Trixie's constant stories about the event. Dressed in a police officer costume, he would come in at the end and "arrest" the murderer. He immediately took charge of the situation, while Trixie stepped back, out of the way but available if she was needed.
Dan asked for her jacket to put under Dr. Chapman's head. She quickly took it off and rolled it up, and as she leaned down to place it under the professor's head, she noticed a small scrap of paper clutched in his hand. Curiously, she pulled it out and read the figures scrawled on it: ZS-118.
She felt certain this had nothing to do with the murder mystery. Was Dr. Chapman looking for something in the library while the show went on? Trixie wondered what it could be. Dewey Decimal call numbers on books didn't start with letters, she knew. Lost in thought, she was startled to feel a hand tightly grasping her wrist. It was Dr. Chapman. He had regained consciousness and was trying to speak to her. Leaning down close to him, she heard him whisper, "When does - ?"
When does what? Trixie thought. Then she heard the ambulance siren. Maybe that's what he meant. "Don't worry, Dr. Chapman. The ambulance is on its way. I can hear it now. You're going to be okay."
Dr. Chapman weakly shook his head, "When does - ?"
"Don't try to talk, Dr. Chapman. Everything's going to be all right. Is there somebody I can call for you?"
"His daughter works in a bakery downtown," one of the librarians said. "I don't know the name of it, but it's the one next door to the fire station."
"The Sweet Tooth," Dan said, pulling Trixie out of the way as the paramedics arrived to take charge of Dr. Chapman. "I'll stop by and get her and take her to the hospital."
"I'm coming with you, Dan," Trixie said.
Dan nodded, knowing he couldn't stop her if he tried and the two of them left the library right behind the paramedic team. The murder mystery show had reached an unexpected and premature end. Trixie just hoped Dr. Chapman wasn't about to suffer the same fate.
*******************************************
Dan and Trixie sat across from each other in the hospital cafeteria. After picking up Dr. Chapman's daughter Ann from The Sweet Tooth Bakery, they had brought her right over to be near her father. Other family quickly arrived as Ann called them. Not wanting to intrude, but still concerned about Dr. Chapman's condition, Dan and Trixie had let Ann know they'd wait in the cafeteria for an update.
"Do you want more coffee?" Dan asked.
"Sure," Trixie replied, holding her cup out to Dan, who went off in pursuit of some refills.
Leaning back in her chair, Trixie stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Frowning, she pulled something from her right pocket. It was the scrap of paper she had pulled from Dr. Chapman's hand.' Laying it on the table in front of her, she tried to figure out what it meant.
Dan returned with the steaming coffee cups and placed them on the table. "What's that?" he asked upon spying the paper.
"I'm not sure," Trixie said. "Dr. Chapman had it in his hand when I found him. I meant to give it back to him but in the excitement, I guess I just forgot."
Dan grunted, "Looks like a library call number to me."
"Those call numbers don't start with letters, silly."
"What letters?"
"Z and S. Right at the beginning, Dan. ZS-118."
"Not from where I'm sitting, Trix. It looks like 811.52 to me."
Eyes wide, Trixie turned the scrap of paper around. "Of course! How stupid of me! Well, that takes care of that mystery. He was just looking for a book." Smiling at Dan, she reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "Have I ever told you that you're a genius?"
Dan lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "Not recently. But it's good to know you still feel that way."
"Well, once we know Dr. Chapman is okay, maybe I'll run by the library on our way home and check this book out for him."
Dan picked up the scrap to inspect it and that was when Trixie saw the writing on the other side. She hadn't even noticed it before. She reached across the table and pulled the scrap from Dan's hand so she could look at it more closely. P47, NW1911. She turned the paper to face Dan. "Okay, Einstein. What do these figures mean?"
Dan studied the numbers and letters for a moment then shrugged. "I'm afraid my brilliant deductive reasoning is drained for the day. What say you and I take some coffee upstairs to Ann and her family, get a report, and head back home?"
*******************************************
Dan and Trixie were very relieved to hear that Dr. Chapman was going to be all right. He had had a heart arrhythmia when his pacemaker malfunctioned, but the paramedics and doctors had all worked quickly to repair the damage and Dr. Chapman would soon be up and around again. They were keeping him in the hospital overnight to readjust his pacemaker and make sure he was okay.
"He's sleeping now," Ann said, "but he expressed a desire to speak to the both of you and thank you as soon as possible."
"Anybody would have done the same," Dan said, deflecting the praise with his usual humble attitude.
"But we're anxious to see that he's all right," Trixie interjected. "Tell him we'll stop by tomorrow morning to check on him." She knew the scrap of paper was not a mystery. The professor had just wanted to check out a book. But her natural curiosity simply couldn't be contained. She had to ask him what the letters and numbers on the reverse side meant.
*******************************************
Trixie found she couldn't sleep that night.' She kept thinking about the numbers. She hadn't gotten to the library before they closed, so she had been unable to check out the book Dr. Chapman wanted, and thus had nothing further to go on. She tossed and turned for an hour before finally getting up and going to the kitchen for a cup of tea. While the kettle was heating up, she stared again at the scrap of paper, turning it upside down to see if there was another way to read it. Not this time. Maybe only Dr. Chapman could solve this mystery.
Trixie smiled. She hadn't been involved in a mystery - well, other than the murder mystery show - since high school. After Honey had decided to go to
Even she and Jim hadn't lasted. They had broken up shortly before the girls graduated from high school. It had taken them several months to start feeling like friends again, and then they had almost thrown that all away too. That had been the day Trixie had moved here and Jim had discovered that she and Dan had become a couple. Though it started off badly, with Jim storming out leaving Trixie in tears, it had really been the best day of their long relationship in quite some time. Trixie had called Jim and they had had a long talk, getting everything out in the open, working things through until they had both realized how much they meant to each other. It had taken some more time, but finally they had been able to bring their friendship back to what it had been. Jim had accepted that Dan was in Trixie's life, and Trixie had accepted that she and Jim were just friends. But she valued that friendship, so she could live with that.
In regard to her future, Trixie eventually decided that she and Honey and the other Bob-Whites had been through enough adventures and mysteries growing up that anything else would be anticlimactic. I'd probably spend my detective agency days tailing cheating husbands and looking for lost pets, she had thought cynically. She was still interested in mysteries, just from a different angle these days. Her studies in criminal justice had been leading her towards a career in forensics. Her brothers had teased her mercilessly for it, since she had never had a proclivity towards science in high school. "But this isn't science", she had declared, "it's fun!" And it was just another way to solve a mystery.
As she slowly stirred her tea waiting for it to cool off, she felt arms reaching around her from behind her chair and Dan was nuzzling her neck, "I woke up and you were gone."
"I'm sorry, Dan. Did I wake you? I got up out of bed because I was worried about disturbing you."
"I was more disturbed by your absence than by your restlessness," Dan whispered. "What got you up out of bed?"
Trixie silently held up the scrap of paper and Dan chuckled softly. "Always on the trail of a mystery, Trix. You'll never change." He kissed the top of her head. "That's why I love you. But this is not a mystery, Trixie. Dr. Chapman will explain it in the morning and that will be that. Come back to bed." He pulled her from her chair and with arms around each other they headed back to the bedroom.
*******************************************
"Dad, Trixie Belden and Dan Mangan are here to see you."
Dr. Chapman sat up in his hospital bed and smiled as his visitors entered the room. He was the stereotypical picture of an English professor, with gray hair and neatly trimmed beard. Trixie had taken a couple of his classes the last two years. She thought he looked odd without his corduroy jacket with the leather elbow patches. She didn't know if he smoked or not, but she always thought a pipe would make the portrait complete.
Trixie had the book in her hand, which she held out to him as they approached. "We sure are glad to see that you're okay, Dr. Chapman," Trixie said. "I picked up your book for you on our way over here."
Dr. Chapman looked puzzled. "How did you know I was looking for this book?"
Trixie's face flushed slightly as she handed him the mysterious scrap of paper. "This was in your hand when you passed out. I picked it up. Dan was the one that figured out who the numbers meant though."
Dr. Chapman flipped through the book, then looked carefully at Trixie. "But I'll bet you're wondering about the writing on the other side now, aren't you?" Trixie's face grew even redder and Dr. Chapman smiled, knowing he had hit the nail on the head. "Well, Miss Belden, your reputation proceeds you, you know. I've heard about your adventures in Sleepyside. I should have guessed that you'd want a hand in this mystery."
"So, there is a mystery?" Trixie asked eagerly, forgetting her embarrassment.
"Well, to be honest, I'm not sure. But I secretly hope so!"
His daughter laughed, "Dad, it's no secret that you've been hoping to find some hidden family treasure for years!"
Dr. Chapman explained to Trixie and Dan, "My father used to tell me about a family treasure when I was a little boy. He didn't tell me much, only promised to tell me the whole story when I got older and could better understand. Unfortunately, he died suddenly when I was only eight years old. I never found out the whole story, and to be honest, I'm not even sure if it was anything more than a fairy tale to put a little boy to sleep at night with fantastic dreams in his head.
"I never forgot that story though. The Chapman family has come across some hard times recently. My childhood home has become quite a valuable piece of property and we're no longer able to afford the upkeep or taxes on it. We're going to have to sell it, I'm afraid, and move into a smaller house. Just a couple of weeks ago, when we were cleaning out the attic, I found a box of my father's things. In one his notebooks was this scrap of paper. Everybody tried to tell me it was nothing," he said, giving his daughter a slightly scornful look, which she gently ignored, "but my father was not prone to keeping scraps lying around. And his notebooks were very important to him. He kept a lot of personal notations and thoughts about art and literature in them. He was a woodcarver by trade, but he had always wanted to write a book about the history of
Trixie felt a chill in her spine when she heard that word. She loved clues. Even Dan tightened his grip on her arm. Trixie's enthusiasm for adventure was highly contagious.
"So, I see that you figured out it was the library call number as well. I had just figured that out myself and was going to retrieve the book that day at the library when I had my attack. Annie thinks I brought on the attack myself with the excitement." He again gave his daughter a scolding look, but it was obvious he thought the world of her.
He looked down at the book in his hands,
When nothing appeared and Dr. Chapman had closed the book again, Trixie asked about the figures on the other side of the scrap of paper.
"I don't know, Trixie. I've wracked my brain, but I haven't come up with any ideas yet. Have you?"
Dan laughed. "She was up practically all night mulling it over. She has to have had at least one idea by now."
"Well, I do. At least part of it. Could the P47 mean page 47?"
Dr. Chapman quickly opened the book again and leafed through until he came to page 47. He studied the page carefully, but could discover no written message or hidden marks on it. He handed the book to Trixie with a shrug.
She read aloud the short poem that was found on the page:
Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.
Ann sighed, "That's beautiful. But it hardly seems like a clue or a secret cipher to some hidden treasure."
"I agree," her father said reluctantly. "And it doesn't help us with the last half of that code either. NW1911. What could that possibly mean?"
Trixie's brow was wrinkled as she concentrated hard on the poem. If she was to succeed as a forensics specialist, she had to learn how to figure out puzzles just like this one. Treasure or not, it had to have meant something to Dr. Chapman's father. But what?
A nurse came in to check Dr. Chapman's vitals. He fussed and fidgeted while she did her job and needled the nurse constantly. "When does the warden release the prisoners around here, anyway?" he asked gruffly.
"Dr. Bryant will be by to see you after lunch and, as long as you don't give me any grief between now and then, maybe he'll release you this afternoon."
The exchange reminded Trixie of a moment in the library. "Dr. Chapman!" she shouted, startling everybody and earning a glare from the nurse as she left the room. Embarrassed, she continued on in a more inside tone of voice. "While we were waiting for the ambulance, you asked me something. You asked, 'When does?' What did you mean? What were you waiting for?"
Dr. Chapman looked puzzled. "I don't remember asking you anything. In fact, I don't remember saying anything at all."
"Well, you did," Trixie insisted gently. "You grabbed my wrist while I was looking at that scrap and you said, 'When does?' I thought maybe you were asking when the paramedics would arrive."
"Well, I was pretty out of it," Dr. Chapman acknowledged. "I suppose that's what I could have been asking. But I don't remember hearing any -" He broke off suddenly and it seemed a light had gone off in his head. "Of course! I remember now! The page of the notebook where I found this scrap of paper was almost completely empty, and I remember thinking how unusual that was. My father's notebooks were always filled with his handwriting, every inch of every page, and often the margins too. But this page had only one word on it. Fenestra."
"But what does that have to do with - ?" Trixie interrupted impatiently. Dan put his hand on her shoulder, silently imploring her to let the professor continue.
"I had no idea what it meant and while I was looking for this book I suddenly remembered my Latin. Fenestra means 'window' in Latin. I wasn't asking you 'When does', Trixie. I was telling you 'windows'."
Trixie still looked puzzled. "But that doesn't mean anything to me. Why would you tell me that?"
"I don't know, Trixie. An old man's delirium. It had just come to me right before I started having those terrible pains in my chest. It probably has nothing to do with anything. I guess it was just wishful thinking that a family fortune would appear now, when we need it most."
Dan noticed that Dr. Chapman was beginning to look tired and decided it was time they left. "We'd better let you get some rest, Dr. Chapman, or Nurse Ratched will never let the doctor release you this afternoon," he smiled.
He and Trixie made their goodbyes and returned to Mrs. Howard's boarding house, where they each went to their separate rooms.
Though they often spent the night with each otehr, Trixie insisted they keep their separate rooms. She didn't want to arose the wrath of Mrs. Howard, who had appointed herself their grandmother and liked to keep all of her young boarders in line.
******************************
Trixie tried to work on some of her homework that afternoon, but found she couldn't concentrate. She decided to go out for a walk.
Before long, she found herself in front of the library. The sun was shining brilliantly on this crisp autumn afternoon and thinking of Dr. Chapman and his Latin, she decided to go inside and admire the stained glass windows that were close to a hundred years old. Three of them were situated above the front doors and every time Trixie walked into the library, she felt like she was walking into a rainbow, as the sun spilled through the windows and scattered greens and golds across the marble entryway.
Most of the windows were done in shades of green and gold and brown, earth tones. But two always drew Trixie's attention because of the different colors they contained. One had a figure of a woman adorned in rich purple, holding a lamp in her hand. This window was one of five situated on the southern wall of the library. The area in front of the windows had some tables where students could read. The woman in the window always reminded Trixie of her two best friends, Honey Wheeler and Diana Lynch. Honey's hair was the same golden blond color as the woman in the window, and purple always made Trixie think of Diana and her lovely violet eyes.
Trixie's other favorite window was off by itself near the stairway to the second floor of the library. It didn't get as much sun where it was located, but something about it always drew Trixie's attention. Like many of the windows, it had a Latin inscription on it. It said "Nova Initia E Fine". Trixie's knowledge of Latin was very limited, but from what she could gather, it meant something to the effect of, "A new beginning from the end". The phrase and the window's dark appearance always reminded her of her very first adventure, shortly after Honey and her parents had moved to the Manor House and the two girls had discovered Jim up at Ten Acres. The estate had belonged to Jim's great-uncle, but had fallen into disrepair. It ended up burning to the ground after Jim's evil stepfather Jonesy had carelessly thrown a cigarette into the old tinderbox. Jim had run away again and Honey and Trixie had gone off to find him and tell him about the inheritance they had discovered in the ashes of the mansion. It was their first mystery, and well, the rest was history.
Trixie stood staring at this stained glass window, memories racing through her mind. She tried to concentrate on the window instead. Its richs browns and golds didn't catch much light, but there was a little patch of blue for the sky up in the corner. Just a small fragment that always seemed to --.
Trixie gasped and looked down at the inscription on the window. There was one similar to it on all the stained glass windows in the library. She spun around and looked at the front entryway. The sun was just starting to set and the windows above the front doors, which faced directly west, got the full force of the sun through the colored glass.
Trixie turned again and looked at the window by the stairway, then ran out of the library, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket as she went.
***************************
At Trixie's urgent call, Dan had driven by the hospital to pick up Ann and Dr. Chapman, who was just then being released, and brought them to the library. It was almost closing time, but Trixie had asked one of the librarians for permission to stay after the doors were locked. She was waiting now to see if the head librarian would approve her unusual request.
"What is this all about, Trixie?" Dan asked as he and the Chapmans joined her near the front desk.
"You'll see," Trixie promised. The librarian on duty, Miss Markum, was coming toward her with a book in her hand.
"Mrs. Neal said you could stay for a little while," she confirmed, then held out the book. "By the way, Trixie, you accidentally left this behind at the murder mystery show." She handed over Trixie's Lucy Radcliff novel. "Dr. Chapman, we're all so glad you're okay," Miss Markum smiled. She patted his arm fondly before leaving the quartet and returning to reshelving books at the opposite end of the library.
Trixie dropped her book on top of the ornately carved check-out desk and led her party over to the window. "Fenestra!" she proclaimed, waving her hand toward the window.
When everybody remained silent, she continued, "These windows were presented as gifts to the school from various graduating classes. Later classes helped to restore the old windows to their former glory." She paused for effect. "With the help of the Chapman Stained Glass Studio."
Dr. Chapman drew his breath in sharply. "My grandfather started that studio. He passed it on to my Uncle Clinton. My cousins still operate it today."
Trixie went on, "Look who donated this window." She pointed down to the bottom of the window, where a plate of colored glass was inscribed, "Presented by the Class of 1911. Restored by the Class of 1932." Her friends still looked puzzled.
"This window doesn't get much light until nearly the end of the day, because of where it's located."
Dan smiled broadly. "The northwest corner of the library! NW1911!"
"That's right!" Trixie looked at him with fond admiration. "And just today I was noticing that little patch, that little fragment of blue on a window otherwise decorated in dark browns and golds."
"Fragmentary Blue!" Ann gasped, drawing her hand up to her mouth.
Dr. Chapman could barely contain his excitement. "But the window is getting some light now," he stated. Four pairs of eyes followed the small shaft of blue light to where it ended against the edge of the check-out desk. "And I'm willing to bet this is the original desk. What do you think, Detective Belden?"
Trixie nodded her head vigorously, curls bouncing and blue eyes shining. Quickly, the four of them hurried to the desk and began running their hands along the ornately carved oak, feeling for anything unusual in the crevices and ridges. The desk was very large and soon the four of them were spread out around it. Trixie stubbornly stuck to the area where the blue light had first shone on the desk. Suddenly, amidst the intertwining vines and flowers carved into the wood, she saw it. The small initials "CC".
"Dr. Chapman," she called softly. He hurried over and she pointed to her discovery.
"Carter Chapman," he gasped in disbelief. "My father. He must have created this desk for the library. He never told me that."
Together, they pressed hard against the initials and suddenly, a small drawer popped out of the desk. Dan and Ann hurried over at the sound and stood behind Trixie and Dr. Chapman, craning their necks to look into the small drawer. It appeared to be empty. But Dr. Chapman reached his hand in toward the back of the drawer. Trixie held her breath. Slowly, a smile spread across Dr. Chapman's face, and he withdrew a small blue velvet bag. Dr. Chapman opened it and looked inside. He drew out the most beautiful sapphire necklace Trixie had ever seen. Ann burst into tears and hugged Dan in her excitement.
"I know this," Dr. Chapman said softly, fighting his own tears. "This belonged to my great-grandmother. We have a portrait of her at the house wearing it. Nobody knew what became of it. I don't even know why it was hidden in the first place."
"For such a time as this, I suppose," Dan said.
"Indeed." Dr. Chapman turned to his daughter. "Now we can keep the house in the family. And of course, I will be sending a large donation to the university library as well. It's the least I can do, since they kept such good care of our family treasure all these years." He and Ann embraced as Trixie and Dan stared fondly at each other.
Dr. Chapman gave Trixie a hug too. "I should have know that when Trixie Belden came to town, this mystery would be solved in no time. You are going to be a terrific forensics specialist, young lady. I'll bet the FBI hires you on the spot after you graduate." Trixie blushed happily.
"Why, Trixie! You're a real-life Nancy Drew!" Ann exclaimed, hugging her joyfully.
Trixie frowned. "Who is she?"
"She's a fictional female detective. Why, Trixie Belden, don't tell me you've never read any Nancy Drew books!"
Turning her pert nose up in the air, Trixie sniffed. "Of course not! A girl is loyal to her favorites. There's no one but Lucy Radcliffe for me!" And picking up her book from where she had left it on top of the Chapman family treasure chest, she turned and with a smile walked out of the library into the setting sun.
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
CHAPTER 4 (5,360 words)
I wanted to have at least one "mystery" in this uni, in keeping with the true spirit of the series. This wasn't an easy task for me because honestly, I don't even like mysteries that well *g*. Trixie is the exception. But I had this little idea, having done a mystery murder show myself (but not at a college or in a library; it was a dinner theater show). Imagine my surprise when I found this actually was done at a college in
A HUGE thank you to SusanB for cutting my research time WAY down and providing a link to find the college I wanted. I suppose I might have made my way to SUNY
SUNY Albany is little over two hours north of Sleepyside (based on
http://www.flickr.com/photos/ualibraries/sets/72157601326137704
As always, Trixie Belden and the other B.W.G.'s are the property of Random House.
Nancy Drew is a copyrighted character also and she does not belong to me either. My apologies for not only using her name without permission, but for "dissing" her in the process. I actually read and enjoyed Nancy Drew when I was a girl.
Nancy Drew is a copyrighted character also and she does not belong to me either. My apologies for not only using her name without permission, but for "dissing" her in the process. I actually read and enjoyed Nancy Drew when I was a girl.