The Spider Sapphire Mystery

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THRILLING, dangerous adventures confront Nancy Drew while on a safari in East Africa with a group of American college students. Excitement runs high as the teen-age detective delves into the theft of a fabulous sapphire formed by nature millions of years ago.

The mystery starts in Nancy’s home town. Her lawyer father’s client, Floyd Ramsey, who fashions beautiful and unusual synthetic gems, is accused of stealing the magnificent spider sapphire and exhibiting it as his own creation. Mr. Ramsey’s enemies blackmail him and by their vicious acts try to deter Nancy from going on the safari.

How the daring young sleuth uncovers a nefarious scheme and also solves the strange disappearance of an injured jungle guide will keep the reader breathless with suspense from first page to last.

Copyright 0 1996,1968 by Simon & Schuaff, Inc. All righa reserved.

Published by Grosset & Dunhp, Inc., a member of The Putnam &
Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.
NANCY DREW MYSTERYSTORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schusrer,
Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

eISBN : 978-1-101-07746-7

2007 Printing

NANCY Drew drove her convertible into the public parking lot and chose a space facing the far fence. There were few cars at this hour, since the early-morning shoppers had left.

As the attractive, titian-haired girl turned off the motor and took the key from the ignition lock, a car pulled in on each side of her. In an instant Nancy realized that they were parked so close she could not open either of her doors. The two drivers immediately jumped out and hurried away.

Nancy called to them. “Wait a minute! You’ve parked so I can’t get out!”

The men paid no attention. She honked her horn loudly, but they did not turn their heads.

“How inconsiderate!” Nancy thought angrily. “And with the parking lot almost empty.”

She caught a glimpse of the two men. They were dark-complexioned and she guessed they were from India. One looked to be about twenty years old, the other forty.

“Well,” Nancy said to herself, “I’ll just have to back out of here and find another place.”

She put the key into the ignition lock and started the motor. At that instant a car came whizzing into the parking lot, turned sideways abruptly, and stopped directly behind her.

Nancy leaned out the window and called, “I want to get out of here!”

She could not see the driver, but she was sure he had heard her. Instead of moving his car, he jumped out and sped across the parking lot to the street. He was a large, well-built, dark-skinned man. She could not see his face.

With a sigh Nancy decided she would have to put down the top of her convertible and crawl over one of the cars. Then she remembered that before leaving home she had tried the mechanism and it had failed to work.

“I must stop at the garage on my way home,” she decided.

Suddenly Nancy realized she was a prisoner. It also occurred to her that the whole episode had been planned by the three men.

“But why?” she asked herself.

Nancy sat lost in thought for a full minute. Her father, Carson Drew, a prominent lawyer, had recently taken an interesting case. There was a unique mystery attached to it. Was she being ha rassed to make her father give up the case? Nancy wondered. She had become well known as an amateur sleuth. Perhaps the people connected with the mystery had found this out and intended to keep her from helping her father.

“Whatever the motive, I’m stuck here right now,” she told herself. “How am I to get out of this car?”

Nancy knew she would need help. She pressed the horn and let it blow continuously. Sooner or later someone would come to see about stopping the noise.

The person who arrived was a young policeman. Nancy did not know him, although she was acquainted with many of the men on the River Heights force. She had often worked directly with Chief McGinnis.

“What’s going on here?” the officer asked cheerfully. “Somebody playing a joke on you?”

“I think not,” Nancy replied. Quickly she told what had happened, and added, “I believe this was deliberate.”

“My name is Orton,” the policeman said, “I’ll get you out of here as fast as I can.”

He tried the doors of all three cars. Every one of them was locked.

Orton pulled a book from his pocket and began comparing numbers in it with the license plates on the three cars. Finally he said, “Just what I suspected. Each of these cars is listed as stolen.”

He said he would make a report to headquarters at once and a locksmith would be sent to open the doors. After he had gone Nancy fumed over the trick that had been played on her. In the future she must be more careful about traps.

About ten minutes later Orton returned with the locksmith and another policeman. While various keys were being tried, Orton asked Nancy for a description of the three men who had driven into the parking lot.

“I’m afraid it will be pretty sketchy,” she replied, but told him what little she knew,

“They could be foreigners, especially the Indians,” the officer stated. “Chief McGinnis will probably get in touch with the immigration authorities.”

The three cars were finally moved and Nancy, relieved, stepped to the pavement.

“Thanks a million,” she said to the three men. “I hope you catch those car thieves.”

Nancy was convinced that the strangers were more than mere car thieves. She would talk the matter over later with her father.

She continued on to her destination, the River Heights Museum. Her father had told her about an amazing gem on display there. It was a huge sapphire with a spider embedded in it.

“To think that this rare piece of work is only synthetic,” Nancy murmured. “Dad said it was made by Mr. Floyd Ramsey, who fashions beautiful and unusual synthetic jewelry, right here in River Heights.”

The mystery which her father had hinted at concerned Mr. Ramsey and a wealthy Indian in Africa who owned a genuine sapphire with a spider embedded in it.

“I can’t wait to hear the rest of the story,” Nancy thought as she walked along Maple Avenue toward the museum.

She heard someone across the street whistle. Thinking it might be her friend Ned Nickerson, Nancy turned to look. At that instant someone banged into her from the rear, snatched her purse, and tried to knock her down. As Nancy teetered to regain her balance, the thief dashed down the street.

“He’s the younger of the two Indians who penned me in!” she thought. Nancy started running after him, crying out, “Stop thief!”

A man, coming from the opposite direction, heard her. Seeing the purse clutched under one arm of the fleeing figure, he stopped the Indian and grabbed the bag, but it dropped to the pavement. He struggled to hold onto the thief, but with a neat judo shoulder throw, the purse snatcher tossed the man onto the sidewalk. Then the Indian fled around the corner.

Horrified onlookers were helping the man to his feet as Nancy ran up to him. “I’m dreadfully sorry,” she said. “Are you hurt?”

The man smiled. “Only my pride.” He picked up the handbag and handed it to Nancy.

A patrolman rushed to the scene and asked for the story. When Nancy stated that this was the second time within an hour that she had been annoyed by the same man, the officer took notes and he said he would telephone the information to headquarters at once. By this time the crowd had melted away.

The stranger who had come to her assistance refused to give his name. Smiling, he said, “I don’t want any publicity. It was my privilege to help a young lady.”

With a wave of his hand he strode off. As Nancy walked on, she reflected about people of good and bad intent who so often crossed her path.