The Mystery of the 99 Steps

by Carolyn Keene

  “If I could only unearth another clue to the right steps!” Nancy said to herself.

  Mr. Drew had come to an area of handsome homes, most of them with extensive grounds. The girls exclaimed over their attractiveness. In a little while they reached an estate which Mr. Drew said belonged to Monsieur Leblanc. It was surrounded by a high stone wall, and the entranceway was almost hidden by a grove of sycamore trees. Nancy’s father pulled in among them and stopped.

  “I’ll hide the car here,” he said. “It will be easy to take out and follow Leblanc if necessary.”

  “What if he doesn’t come outside?” Nancy asked. “Shall we go up to the house when it’s darker?”

  “We’ll have no choice.”

  They waited in the car for over fifteen minutes, then George burst out, “I need exercise! Let’s do some walking!”

  The others agreed and Nancy added, “We can try a little sleuthing too.”

  Mr. Drew locked the ignition and took the key. As the four passed through the driveway entrance, they noticed a great stone pillar on either side. Tall iron gates were attached to them, but they stood open.

  “Just put here for decoration,” Mr. Drew observed. “I imagine they’re never closed.”

  Nancy suggested that the group separate. “Bess and George, suppose you take the right side of the driveway up to the house. See if you can pick up any clues as to what Monsieur Leblanc is frightened about. Dad and I will take the other side and meet you there.”

  Mr. Drew added, “If you two girls see Leblanc leaving, give our birdcall warning and run as fast as you can back to the car so we can follow him.”

  Bess and George set off among the trees that grew along the driveway. It was dark under the heavy foliage and they kept stumbling over roots.

  “I wish we’d brought flashlights,” Bess complained.

  “We couldn’t have used them, anyhow,” George retorted. “Someone would spot us right away.”

  They went on silently for a few minutes, then Bess whispered fearfully, “I don’t like this. There may be watchdogs prowling around.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly!” said George and hurried ahead.

  Suddenly Bess let out a scream. George dashed back. “What is it?”

  Bess, ashen-faced, stammered out, “There! Hanging from that tree! A—a body!”

  George turned a little squeamish herself, but decided to investigate. She went over, felt the object, and then laughed softly.

  “It’s only a stuffed dummy,” she declared.

  “Why is it hanging there?” asked Bess, still trembling. “It must be some kind of a sinister warning. I’m not going another step. Let’s go back to the car.”

  “And run out on Nancy? Nothing doing,” George replied firmly. “Do you know what I think this figure might be? A punching bag!”

  “You mean, like football players use in practice?” Bess asked.

  George nodded.

  Finally Bess summoned up enough courage to go on, and presently the cousins found themselves at the head of the driveway. On the far side stood a large and imposing chateau. The girls would have to cross in the open to reach it. They discussed whether or not it was wise to do this.

  The front of the mansion was well lighted. Several windows stood open, but not a sound came from inside.

  “I wonder if Monsieur Leblanc is at home,” George murmured.

  Before she and Bess could make up their minds what to do, the front door opened. A tall, slender woman, holding a mastiff on a leash, walked down the short flight of steps. Hastily the cousins ducked back among the trees as the woman turned in their direction. Had she heard Bess’s scream and was coming to investigate?

  “I told you they’d have a watchdog!” Bess groaned. “We’d better go before she lets that beast loose!”

  George did not argue, and the two girls began to retrace their steps hurriedly.

  Meanwhile, Nancy and her father had made their way cautiously toward the rear of the big house. A little way behind it was a five-car garage, filled with automobiles. The Drews recognized the car in which Leblanc had ridden earlier.

  “Dad, this must mean he’s at home,” Nancy said.

  Directly behind the house was a large flower garden. The Drews entered it and walked along a path. Fortunately it was dark enough so that their figures could not be seen in silhouette. They passed what Mr. Drew said were the kitchen and dining room. Just beyond was a brightly lighted room with a large window, partly open, that overlooked the garden.

  The room was lined with bookshelves, and comfortably furnished. In the center stood a mahogany desk. The Drews could see no one.

  A moment later a telephone on the desk began to ring. The door to the room opened and a tall man strode in.

  “Monsieur Leblanc!” Nancy whispered excitedly. “He is home! Now we can follow him if he leaves!”

  Her father said, “Remember, he may already have met the man we think is Louis Aubert. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

  Monsieur Leblanc did not lower his voice and through an open window his part in the phone conversation came clearly to the Drews.

  “I told you the money was stolen!” the financier said. “If I did not have the money, what was the use of my coming?”

  Another long pause. Then Leblanc said firmly, “Now listen. People are beginning to show some suspicion. I will have to be more careful.”

  There followed a long silence. At last he spoke again. “It is against my better judgment. Let us not do anything more for a few days.”

  Nancy was hardly breathing. She did not want to lose one word that this enigmatic financier was saying.

  Leblanc’s voice grew angry. “Why can’t you wait? I know you said 9 was coming up, but even the thought of it brought me bad luck. Every cent I had with me was taken.”

  The next pause was so long that Mr. Drew and Nancy began to wonder if the caller had hung up. But finally they heard Monsieur Leblanc say in a resigned tone, “Very well, then. I will go to the orange garden.” He put down the telephone.

  CHAPTER XI

  Clue From Home

  NANCY squeezed her father’s arm and whispered, “The orange garden! Do you think it’s here?”

  Mr. Drew shook his head. “I know every inch of these grounds.”

  The two became silent again as they wondered where the orange garden might be and if the telephone caller had been Louis Aubert. “I’m sure he was,” Nancy thought, and hoped Monsieur Leblanc would start out immediately.

  The Drews watched him intently. Leblanc did not leave the study, however. Instead, he took off his jacket and slipped on a lounging robe. Then he sat down at the desk and wrote for several minutes.

  “It doesn’t look as if he’s going out tonight,” Nancy remarked.

  At that moment the Frenchman picked up a book from his desk and went to a large leather easy chair. He sank into it and began to read.

  “I guess this settles the matter,” said Mr. Drew in a low voice. “We had better go.”

  His daughter lingered. “Maybe Monsieur Leblanc is going out later.”

  Mr. Drew smiled. “I think it’s more likely he’ll stop at this mysterious orange garden on his way to the office. But we can’t stay here all night. Remember, you girls leave for the Bardots’ chateau tomorrow.”

  Reluctantly Nancy started back with her father. Just then they heard a series of deepthroated barks. “That’s the Leblancs’ guard dog,” Mr. Drew said.

  “Oh!” Nancy cried out. “It may be after Bess and George! We’d better find out!”

  The Drews hurried from the garden and raced quickly down the driveway. The barking continued. When Nancy and her father reached the entrance, the gates were locked.

  There was no escape!

  “This is bad!” Mr. Drew exclaimed. “Nancy, I’ll boost you to the top of the wall. The dog won’t harm you there.”

  “But how about you?” Nancy argued. “And where are Bess and George?”

  At tha
t moment the cousins appeared, running like mad. The mastiff’s barks were closer now.

  “Quick! Over the wall!” Nancy said. “The gates are locked!”

  Bess and George did not say a word. Quickly Mr. Drew helped them to the top of the stone-work, then he boosted Nancy upward. She and George lay flat on the wall and grasped the lawyer’s hands. The dog, his leash trailing, had reached the scene and managed to tear one cuff of Mr. Drew’s trousers before the girls yanked him to safety.

  Out of breath the group dropped to the ground and went to their car. As they headed for Paris, Mr. Drew remarked, “I guess we got what we deserved. We were trespassing.”

  Bess said, “Thank goodness we escaped. Two scares in one night are two too many for me.”

  She and George told the story of the figure hanging from a tree. When Mr. Drew heard George’s idea that the dummy was a punching bag for Monsieur Leblanc, he laughed heartily. “I’ve been calling him the frightened financier, but maybe I’ll have to change it to the fighting financier!”

  The girls giggled, then George eagerly asked what Nancy and her father had found out. When they were told about the orange garden, the cousins agreed it was an excellent clue.

  “How are you going to follow it up, Nancy?” Bess queried.

  “Right now I don’t know. But I intend to find out where the orange garden is.”

  Nancy went on to say that one thing was very puzzling: Why did Louis Aubert have such a hold over Monsieur Leblanc, when his name had once been forged by Aubert’s twin, Claude?

  Her father said this mystified him too. “I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for the answer to that question, Nancy, until you turn up more evidence about the exact relationship between Louis and Monsieur Leblanc.”

  Next morning, when the girls came downstairs to breakfast, Mr. Drew said, “I’ve rented a car for your trip to the Loire valley, girls.”

  “Wonderful! Thank you, Dad,” said Nancy. “You think of everything.”

  The lawyer smiled. “I have another surprise for you.” He pulled a letter from his pocket. “Some news from Hannah Gruen.”

  Nancy excused herself and read the letter. Marie and Monique were having a good time in River Heights. The sisters were popular and they had made some warm friends. There were two special messages for Nancy. One was from Chief McGinnis. The River Heights police had caught the stilt walker! He had been paid, he said, by a James Chase to do the job.

  “Claude Aubert again!” Nancy murmured, then quickly told the others about the stilt walker’s arrest. She read on. Suddenly she said excitedly, “Oh, listen to this, everyone!

  “‘Here’s the other special message for you, Nancy. Right after you left, Mrs. Blair phoned to say she’d had the dream about the 99 steps, as usual. But this time she was a child, playing with her governess. Presently the woman tied a dark handkerchief over the child’s eyes for a game of blindman’s buff. Later, Mrs. Blair came across another clue in her mother’s diary—the name of the governess. It was Mile. Lucille Manon.’ ”

  Nancy looked up from the letter and burst out, “How’s that for a marvelous clue?” Mr. Drew, Bess, and George were elated by the information.

  The girls had packed before leaving their room, so soon after breakfast they checked out of the hotel and were on their way to the Bardots. Nancy, at the wheel of the small French car, found it took some time to make progress. The morning rush hour was in full swing, with its hurrying crowds and hundreds of taxis scooting recklessly in and out of traffic.

  The route to the Bardots led past the famous palace of Versailles. Nancy paused briefly so that the girls could view the huge building and gardens.

  “Let’s see,” Bess mused, “wasn’t it Louis XIV who built Versailles?”

  Nancy nodded. “It has a fascinating history. Imagine a German emperor being crowned here! You remember that Germany once controlled all of France.”

  “But the French finally got their country back,” George remarked.

  Suddenly Bess chuckled. “The thing I remember is that Louis XIV was supposed to have had over a hundred wigs. He never permitted anybody to see him without one, except his hairdresser.”

  Presently the girls came to the Bardots’ home. Set far back from the street, it was approached by a curving driveway. The stone dwelling was in the style of an old French period when buildings were square and three stories high. It had a flat roof with a cupola for a lookout.

  “Isn’t it lovely here?” Bess remarked as she looked around at the green lawns, the well-trimmed shrubs, and the flowering bushes.

  As Nancy stopped the car at the front entrance, the door opened and Monsieur and Madame Bardot came out to greet them. At once the girls could see that Marie resembled her mother and Monique her father. The couple were most gracious in their welcome and led the visitors inside.

  The furnishings were charming but not elaborate. They gave the chateau an atmosphere of warm hospitality, which was enhanced by vases of beautiful flowers.

  The Bardots spoke perfect English, but upon learning that the girls could converse in French, Monsieur Bardot advised them to speak only in French during their visit. “I believe it will help you in your sleuthing,” he added.

  No further reference was made to the mystery at the moment, for suddenly excited barking came from the rear of the house. The next moment a miniature black poodle raced into the living room. She jumped up on the girls, wagging her tail briskly.

  “Fifi! Get down!” Madame Bardot commanded.

  “Oh, we don’t mind,” said Nancy. “She’s very cute.”

  The girls took turns patting Fifi. When she finally became calm, Nancy said, “Monique told me that the dog sleeps in an antique kennel.”

  Madame Bardot smiled. “Actually, we should call it a bed, since we keep it in the house. Would you like to see it?”

  She led the guests across the center hall into a combination library and game room. In one corner stood the most unusual dog bed the Americans had ever seen. The square frame, surrounding a blue satin cushion, was of gilded wood with an arched canopy of blue velvet. The headboard was covered in blue-and-white-striped satin.

  “This was built in the early eighteenth century,” Madame Bardot explained.

  “How darling!” Bess commented. “Does Fifi really sleep in the bed? It looks so neat.”

  Monsieur Bardot laughed. “Every time Fifi comes into the house she is brushed off and her feet washed!” His eyes twinkled as if he were teasing his wife, who pursed her lips in pretended hurt.

  The visitors’ baggage was brought in, and the girls were shown to Marie’s and Monique’s bedrooms. They loved the wide canopied beds and dainty gold-and-white furniture. Bess and George said they would share the same room.

  Conversation during luncheon was confined to Marie and Monique and their trip to the United States. Nancy told about the madrigal singing and how the people of River Heights loved it. The Bardots beamed with pride.

  When the meal was over, their hostess arose. “Shall we go out to our patio?” she suggested.

  The Bardots led the girls to the rear of the chateau and through a garden filled with roses, mignonettes, and summer lilies.

  As soon as the group was seated in comfortable lawn chairs, Madame Bardot leaned forward. “Now please tell us, Nancy, have you had any success with my sister Josette’s mystery?”

  Nancy had decided it would be wise not to mention her father’s case and had instructed Bess and George not to. She and the cousins described the various warnings received by Nancy, the helicopter incident, and the Aubert twins.

  “I think,” Nancy went on, “that Claude, the one in the United States, left the warnings at the request of his brother Louis.”

  “And,” said Bess, “Louis calls himself Monsieur Neuf.”

  George put in, “We thought we had found the 99 steps but we were wrong.”

  “We may have a new clue to them,” Nancy added. “Do you know of an orange garden in this area?”

>   After some thought, Monsieur Bardot replied, “At Versailles a double flight of steps leads down from a terrace to L’Orangerie, the orange orchard.”

  “You mean,” Nancy said eagerly, “that there are 99 steps in them?”

  The Frenchman smiled. “Actually there are 103 in each flight, but they are called the Cent-Marches.”

  “The hundred steps!” Nancy exclaimed.

  “That’s close enough to 99,” George declared.

  “It’s worth investigating,” Nancy agreed.

  Her host suggested the girls drive to Versailles that very afternoon. “I’m sorry that my wife and I cannot accompany you, but we have an engagement.”

  Within an hour the trio set off. When they reached the palace of Versailles, Nancy parked the car and the girls walked up to the huge, sprawling edifice. They went to the beautiful gardens at the south side, exclaiming over the pool, palms, orange trees, and velvety grass.

  Nancy spotted the imposing double staircase leading down from a broad terrace of the palace. Excitedly the girls mounted the steps, counting them.

  Presently Bess gasped and called out, “Look!”

  On the 99th tread was a black chalk mark-M9!

  “M9—Monsieur Neuf!” George exclaimed. “Then what you overheard at Leblanc’s last night, Nancy, was true! Louis Aubert must have come here. But when and why?”

  “Maybe,” Bess spoke up, “it has nothing to do with Louis Aubert after all.”

  Nancy shook her head in disagreement. “I believe Aubert chalked this M9 here as the spot where Monsieur Leblanc was to leave something —probably money. Let’s do a little sightseeing in the palace and then come back in case Leblanc stops here on his way home.”

  The girls went down the steps again and walked to the main entrance. Inside, they stared in wonder at the grandeur of the palace. Walls, ceilings, and floors were ornate, but what amazed the girls most was the lavish decor of Louis XIV’s bedroom.

  “It’s absolutely magnificent but it sure doesn’t look like a man’s room,” George said.

  “At least not a modern man.” Nancy grinned. “Don’t forget, back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries this was the way people in power liked to live, men as well as women.”