The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

hamlets,” Miss Trask said.
    “Hamlet? I thought England had only one—the play by Shakespeare,” Trixie said.
    “The word also means a village,” said Miss Trask without turning around.
    Trixie slouched down in the seat. Either I’ve turned totally paranoid, she thought, or there is a let’s-see-how-dumb-we-can-make-Trixie-look plot afoot. She saw McDuff glance over to smile at Miss Trask, and without thinking, she muttered out loud, “He could at least keep his eyes on the road.”
    Mart overheard her and raised an eyebrow. “Lord, what fools these detectives be,” he misquoted pointedly.
    “What’s that you said?” Miss Trask turned around. “Quoting Shakespeare again? How appropriate—Mr. McDuff says we’re coming into Shakespeare country.” She smiled at Mart.
    “Just a little paraphrasing from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, ” said Mart nonchalantly.
    A midsummer nightmare is more like it, Trixie thought gloomily.

The Tweedies • 8

    TRIXIE’S HIGH SPIRITS began returning, bit by bit, as the Maroon Saloon entered Stratford.
    “Gleeps!” she whispered. “Isn’t this marvelous?” They were driving slowly across an old stone bridge. Below them, white swans glided gracefully across the River Avon. People were splashing around the river in small boats or picnicking on its grassy banks. Not far upstream, a modern red-brick building dominated the landscape.
    “Yon’s the Royal Shakespeare Theatre,” said McDuff. He was quick to point out several other places of interest on their way to the Shakespeare Hotel, the famous sixteenth-century building where
    Honey’s parents had arranged for them to stay. They were all excited by the thought of actually sleeping in such an old building.
    By mutual agreement, the travelers, after entering the handsome black-and-white, half-timbered construction, headed first for the hotel dining room. They ordered their dinner and were sitting by the bay window, waiting for it to arrive, when Trixie and Honey excused themselves to go wash up.
    “Let’s go upstairs and look around,” urged Trixie once they were heading back to the dining room. “It would be such fun!”
    “Shouldn’t we get back to the table?” Honey asked. “What if our food arrives—”
    “I just want to take a peek at the bedrooms,” said Trixie, grabbing Honey’s hand. “Mart told me they were named after Shakespeare’s plays. You know— like the dining room is named As You Like It. ”
    Honey reluctantly agreed, and the two girls ran upstairs to explore the narrow, hushed, dimly lighted corridors.
    “Look, here’s Much Ado About Nothing, ” said Trixie with a noisy giggle. “Sounds just like me!”
    “Ssshh, people in these rooms might be resting,” Honey said. “Anyway, there’s the room I want—A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’ll bet it’s darling inside.”
    Something about the combination of play titles and hotel rooms was enormously appealing to Trixie’s funny bone. “Oh, Honey,” she cried, “after all the rotten things I’ve been thinking, I need to have a good laugh!”
    “Okay, okay, but just do it more quietly,” pleaded Honey. “Oh, how sweet! Here’s a room called Romeo and Juliet.”
    “You can have that one! I think these two over here are a scream— The Tempest and All's Well That Ends Well. Wait till I tell Mart!” Trixie fell to chuckling again, and by the time she reached The Taming of the Shrew and Love’s Labour's Lost , she was almost doubled over with laughter. “Oh, I can’t stand it,” she shrieked. “Imagine a bedroom called Comedy of Errors!”
    “Ssshhh,” Honey whispered, but it was too late.
    A plump chambermaid came bustling down the hall. “The porter says ye’re to come down now,” she said, her voice quavering with indignation.
    The two girls reached their table just in time to hear the proprietor telling the others that, owing to an unfortunate miscalculation, no accommodations were available that night. No reference was made to the girls’ behavior, but Trixie was immediately convinced that she alone was responsible for this embarrassing turn of events. If only she had kept her mouth shut and acted properly!
    “The natives of Stratford take their Shakespeare pretty seriously,” she overheard a tourist at the next table saying.
    Miss Trask overheard it, too, and after the proprietor had gone, she turned to Trixie. “We could hear you clear down here in the dining room,” she said, her lips set in a thin