Free The Mysterious Mannequin by Carolyn G. Keene Page A

oh. She has two overdue books.” After a moment’s pause, Mrs. Armstrong continued, “She lives at 26 Dawson Street.”
    Nancy was thrilled to have the address. At last she seemed to be getting somewhere on the mystery.
    Mrs. Armstrong went on, “She lives with a couple named Kosay.”
    Nancy thanked the librarian, said she was glad to see her again, and went off. It was only a few minutes’ walk to 26 Dawson Street.
    The Kosay house was small with attractive bushes and a wild profusion of gay-colored flowers.
    “Pretty garden,” Nancy remarked.
    As she and Ned walked up to the house, he said, “If this is the girl you’re looking for, how will I know it?”
    Nancy answered quickly, “If she’s the one who opens the door, I’ll gently step on your foot. If someone else comes and we have to go inside and you and I are separated when she comes into the room, I’ll smooth my hair back.”
    Nancy’s pulse quickened as she rang the bell. Half a minute later the door was opened by a very attractive young woman with long black hair. Nancy stepped on Ned’s foot.

CHAPTER XII
    Faker Revealed
    THE girl standing in the doorway was the same one who had torn herself away from the burglar!
    Nancy tried not to show her excitement and asked, “Are you Miss Aisha Hatun?”
    “Yes. You are looking for me?”
    At close range the young woman was even prettier than at a distance. But she had a very sad look. She apparently did not recognize Nancy and set her big eyes on Ned admiringly.
    For the first time Nancy did not know how to begin a conversation. Aisha certainly did not look like a person who would be a friend of a burglar!
    Ned saved Nancy the trouble of launching into the subject. “You are Greek, or perhaps Turkish?” he asked.
    Aisha looked bewildered at her questioners but answered, “I came from Istanbul, but I have lived here with my aunt and uncle for several years.”
    “You have a very pretty accent,” Ned complimented her. “Do you speak other languages besides Turkish and English?”
    For the first time Aisha smiled a little. “I do speak French and Greek,” she answered, then added, “Please tell me who you are and what you want.”
    Ned introduced himself and explained that Nancy was an amateur detective.
    “Detective?” Aisha repeated, her eyes widening in fear.
    There was a slight pause and finally Nancy said, “We’re trying to find something and thought you might help us. But first, tell me about a friend of yours. Two little girls who live next door told us where he lives. His name is Tunay Arik.”
    Aisha’s expression changed. She no longer looked sad nor did she smile. With a frown she said scornfully, “He is not a friend.” Then she added, “Will you come inside, please? I would like to talk with you.”
    Nancy and Ned followed the girl into the living room. It occurred to Nancy that this was like being transported suddenly into another country. The entire decor was Turkish. There was a beautiful hand-woven Oriental rug on the floor, carved furniture, and several brass filigree lamps with matching oval shades.
    After Aisha and her callers had sat down, she said to Nancy, “I recognize you now. You are the girl who was coming after me with the police and Arik told me to run. But why?”
    Nancy hedged. She said, “No reason at all,” and smiled. “I don’t look dangerous, do I?”
    “Oh no”
    Nancy asked, “Didn’t Arik tell you why he wanted you to run away?”
    “No.”
    Ned spoke up, saying he thought this was rather strange. “And he hasn’t phoned you since?”
    Aisha said her aunt had taken a call from him while the girl was out, but she had not returned it.
    She suddenly set her jaw and said, “I don’t like Tunay Arik. I never have liked him but he keeps bothering me to date him. I never will.”
    “But you did meet him on the street,” Nancy reminded her.
    “Yes, I admit it. He phoned that he had received a very important letter from Istanbul which I must read