Jane Carter Historical Cozies: Omnibus Edition (Six Mystery Novels)

by Alice Simpson

  “Atwood must be in there,” I whispered to Jack.

  Jack and I tiptoed across the sagging porch and stood under a high glassless window covered with narrow iron bars. Jack lifted me up so that I could peep into the room. An oil lantern sat on a small table, which was the only furniture in the room save a single bed. On that bed sat a haggard young man. Despite the beginnings of a beard and unkempt hair, I instantly recognized him as the missing bridegroom, still dressed in his formal day attire. He looked much worse for the wear, and his wrists were handcuffed.

  The door to the prisoner’s room was opening. Evidently, George and Aaron Dietz had finished their conference. I quickly asked Jack to put me down.

  “It’s Thomas Atwood,” I whispered to Jack as he lowered me to the ground. “They’ve treated him shamefully.”

  In the room above, the Dietz was speaking.

  “Well, Atwood, have you changed your mind? How about a little supper tonight?”

  “How can I tell you something I don’t know?” Thomas Atwood retorted. “Furstenberg never confided any of his secrets to me.”

  “You know where his gold is hidden!”

  “I don’t think he ever had any!”

  “Oh, yes, he did. A few years back, Furstenberg had over half his fortune surreptitiously converted into gold which he expected to later reconvert into currency at a great profit to himself. His plans went amiss when government men listed him for investigation for tax evasion, among other things related to his shady financial dealings.”

  “You know all about his private affairs,” Thomas Atwood said. “Strange that you haven’t learned the hiding place of the gold—if there ever was any!”

  “It will do you no good to pretend, Atwood! Either you tell the hiding place, or we’ll bring your bride here to keep you company!”

  “You wouldn’t dare touch her, you fiend!”

  “No? Well, unless you decide to talk, she’ll share your fate, and I promise you it won’t be a pretty one. Now, I’ll leave you to think it over.”

  The door closed with a bang.

  “We’ll have to get the police here right away,” Jack whispered in my ear, his breath brushing my cheek and sending a delicious shiver through me. “No telling what those scoundrels may try to do to Atwood. We haven’t a moment to waste.”

  “It would take us hours to bring help here,” I said. “And if we try to use the motorboat, then Dietz and his men will be warned and flee while we’re on our way down the river.”

  “That’s so, but we have to do something. Any ideas?”

  “Yes, I have one,” I answered. “It may sound pretty crazy. Still, I believe it could work!”

  I told Jack my plan from start to finish, but he didn’t like it one bit.

  “It’s dangerous,” he protested. “And if your hunch about the pool is wrong, we will be in a fix.”

  “Of course, but we’ll have to take a chance to save Atwood.”

  “If everything went exactly according to plan it might work!”

  “Let’s try it, Jack. It’s all quiet in there. Dietz is gone. Lift me up again so I can attract Atwood’s attention.”

  Jack lifted me up, and I tapped lightly on the iron bars. Thomas Atwood started and turned his head, then got up from the bed and stumbled toward the window.

  “Who is it?” he whispered.

  “A friend.”

  “Can you get me out of here?”

  “We’re going to try. Are you constantly handcuffed?”

  “Yes, and my captor keeps the key in his pocket. The room outside is always guarded. Did you bring an implement to saw through the bars?”

  “No, we have another scheme in mind. But you must do exactly as we tell you.”

  “Yes, yes!”

  “Listen closely,” I said. “When your captor comes back to tell him you have decided to talk.”

  “I know nothing about the cache of gold,” Atwood protested.

  “That doesn’t matter. Tell your captor that the hiding place is on the Furstenberg estate.”

  “That would only involve Cybil and Mrs. Furstenberg. I’ll do nothing to get them into trouble.”

  “You’ll have to obey instructions, or no one can help you,” I said. “Would you prefer that those cruel men carry out their threat? They’ve threatened to spirit Cybil away and try to force the truth from her. Tell your captor that the gold is hidden in a specially constructed vault lying beneath the lily pool.”

  I was acting on my hunch that there was a trapdoor on the bottom of the pool. Now, as I issued instructions to Thomas Atwood, I wished that I succeeded in examining the pool to confirm that I was right. I was taking a chance on there actually being any vault beneath the pool.

  “He would never believe such a fantastic story,” Atwood protested.

  “It is not as fantastic as it sounds,” I assured him. “You must convince him that it is true.”

  “I will try.”

  “Make the men understand that to get the gold they must drain the pool and raise a trapdoor in the cement bottom. Ask to be taken with the men when they go there tonight and demand that you be given your freedom as soon as the gold is found.”

  “They will never let me go alive. An identification from me would send them all to prison for life.”

  “If things go according to plan, the police will arrive before they have a chance to decide what to do with you. Do you know these men?”

  “The ringleader is Aaron Dietz. At one time, he was employed by Mr. Furstenberg.”

  “Just as I thought.”

  “The other two call themselves George and John. I don’t know their last names. Then there is a girl who seems to be a sister to George.”

  “How did they get you here?”

  “On the day of the wedding, I was handed a note, purporting to be from Mr. Furstenberg, just as I reached the estate. It told me to come at once to the garden. While I waited there, two men grabbed me from behind. Before I could cry out, they dragged me to their boat at the river’s edge. I was handcuffed, blindfolded and brought to this cabin.”

  I heard the outside door of the cabin slam shut. I was wasting precious time.

  “You understand your instructions?” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Then goodbye. With luck, we’ll have you free in a few hours.”

  “With luck, is right,” Jack muttered as I slid to the ground.

  From the sheltering darkness, I could see that Aaron Dietz stood on the front porch staring out into the night, so we made a wide circle around the cabin before returning to the river. It seemed that we had not been observed, so we boarded the boat and went back down to the cabin to await further developments.

  We sat in the darkness for over an hour, waiting anxiously. I moved as far away from Jack as possible in the confined space and stared moodily out the cabin window in near-silence.

  “Looks as if my little plan didn’t work,” I was forced to admit at last. “I might have known it would be too simple.”

  Jack got up, went to the window and stood there listening.

  “Hear anything?”

  “Sounds like someone coming down the path. We ought to get back into our cubbyhole.”

  We tiptoed to the closet and closed the door.

  Within a few minutes, we heard a confusion of voices and the shuffle of feet as men boarded the cruiser. I wondered if the group included Thomas Atwood and was greatly relieved when I heard him speak.

  “I don’t see why you think I would double-cross you,” Atwood said. “I am considering my own welfare. You promised that if the gold is found, you’ll give me my freedom.”

  “Sure, you’ll get it. But if you’re lying about the hiding place—”

  The words were drowned out by the roar of the motorboat engine. The floor beneath us quivered and then gently rolled. The cruiser was underway.

  “We’re heading for the Furstenberg estate!” I whispered. “Oh, everything is starting out beautifully!”<
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  “I only hope it ends the same way,” said Jack morosely. “I only hope it does.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Jack nudged me in the ribs.

  “Wake up,” he whispered. “We’re here.”

  I had dozed off.

  Jack had cracked open the door of the closet, so that I could see out into the cabin and through it to the window beyond. The moon had risen higher in the sky, and outside on the deck, I could hear a scraping and then a splash as if someone was setting the anchor.

  “Are we at the estate?” I asked Jack.

  “I think so.”

  “You’ll come along with us, Atwood,” I heard Aaron Dietz say. “Rita, you stay here and guard the boat. If you see anyone watching or acting suspiciously, blow the whistle two short blasts.”

  “I don’t want to stay here alone,” the girl complained. “I’m afraid.”

  “You’ll do as I say,” the man ordered. “Get started, George. It’s two o’clock now. We won’t have many hours before daylight.”

  I had made one small error in my plans. I had failed to consider that the men might leave a guard on the cruiser. With the girl posted as a lookout, we would remain prisoners in the cabin.

  “We have to get out of here now or never,” I whispered to Jack. “What shall we do about Rita?”

  “We’ll rush her and take a chance on the whistle.”

  We waited a minute or two to give the group of men guarding Atwood time to gain a small lead, then we slipped out of our hiding place and crawled noiselessly up the steep stairway. Rita was a shadowy figure in the bow of the boat.

  “Now!” commanded Jack in a whisper.

  Jack and I crept across the deck. We snuck up behind Rita and grabbed her before she could turn her head. Jack grasped her arms while I clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent a scream. Although the girl fought fiercely, she was no match for us both.

  I stripped off my sash and used it as a gag. We used a coil of rope from the deck of the cruiser to bind Rita’s wrists and ankles then carried her down into the cabin.

  “I hate to leave her like that,” I said as we went back on deck.

  “Don’t waste your sympathy,” Jack said. “She doesn’t deserve it. Anyway, she won’t be tied up like that for long. We must bring the police, now.”

  “The Castle is the closest telephone. That is about a half mile away.”

  “It won’t take us long to cover the distance,” Jack said, as he helped me down from the boat.

  “You go alone,” I urged. “I’ll stay here and keep watch.”

  “I don’t like to leave you.”

  “Go on.” I gave him a little push. “And hurry!”

  After Jack had reluctantly left, I plunged into the trees, carefully picking my way along the path which led to the lily pool. I stopped at the edge of the clearing. The three men and Thomas Atwood stood silhouetted in the bright moonlight. Atwood was still handcuffed, guarded by Aaron Dietz who allowed his companions to do all the hard labor.

  George and John had broken open the door of the stone tower and started the motor of the pump. It was clear they intended to drain the pool. I wondered what the men would do when they discovered that the tank contained a very live alligator.

  But gradually, as the pool drained lower and lower, it struck me as odd that the men did not notice the alligator. It then occurred to me that the Furstenberg’s gardener had probably succeeded in getting rid of the beast since my visit to the garden earlier in the day.

  I was not terribly concerned. Even if the alligator was gone, I thought there would still be ample time for the police to arrive before the pool was drained completely. However, as the moon waned, I became alarmed at how fast the pool was emptying. Jack would not have as long to return with the police as I had anticipated. Finally, one of the men shut off the motor in the stone tower.

  “There, she’s empty!”

  He jumped down into the tank.

  “Here it is, just as he said! The ring to the trap! Give us some help, George.”

  With Aaron Dietz and the bewildered bridegroom watching from above, the two men raised the heavy block of cement. I crept closer, not wanting to miss out on the excitement. I stood in the shadow of a tree scarcely fifteen yards from where the men worked.

  “A stairway leads down into an underground vault!” John cried exultantly. “We’ve found the hiding place of the gold.”

  “Toss me your flashlight, Aaron,” called George. “We’ll soon have all of the treasure out of here.”

  Things were progressing too quickly. Why didn’t Jack come with the police? As soon as the men carried their burden of gold to the boat, they would discover Rita, bound and gagged. Then they would suspect that a trap had been laid, and who knew what horrible fate would befall Thomas Atwood. Why didn’t Jack hurry?

  George and John descended into the underground vault. As the light reappeared, I was dumbfounded to see that the men were empty-handed.

  “Nothing down there,” George reported in disgust. “Nothing!”

  “Then we’ve been tricked!” Aaron Dietz turned furiously on his prisoner. “You’ll pay for this!”

  “I thought the gold was here,” answered Thomas Atwood.

  “Lock him up in the vault and start the water running,” John said. “It’s a good way to be rid of him.”

  The suggestion seemed to please Aaron Dietz. He nodded and the other two seized Atwood and dragged him down into the pool. They shoved him into the vault, but before the two men could lower the heavy cement block into place, they were halted by a signal from Dietz.

  “Wait!”

  In my worry over the fate of Thomas Atwood, I had moved closer to the pool. Without realizing that I was exposing myself, I stood so that my shadow fell clearly across the open space. Before I realized that I had put myself in danger, Dietz hurled himself at me and seized me roughly by the arms.

  I struggled to free myself but could not.

  “You were spying on us!”

  “I—I was just watching. Don’t you remember me? I’m the woman who pulled you out of the river when your car went over the drawbridge.”

  The man looked closely at me, and for an instant, I hoped that he would recall me with gratitude. But his face hardened again, and he said unfeelingly: “You know entirely too much. This is one story you will never write for your father’s paper. Your curiosity has proven your undoing. You share the fate of your very good friend.”

  With a sinking heart, I realized that Dietz knew who I was and had already guessed my part in the trick played on him.

  “Down you go!” Dietz said as he dragged me toward the pool. I screamed like a banshee. He clamped his hand over my mouth. I bit at it savagely, but my efforts to free myself were useless.

  Dietz shoved me headlong down the stone stairway into the pit.

  “Now scream as much as you like,” Aaron Dietz shouted after me. “No one will hear you.”

  The men dropped the heavy concrete slab closing off the opening back into place.

  I picked myself up from the steps. I must remain calm, I told myself. I must think things through. There was no profit in panicking.

  “Mr. Atwood! Mr. Atwood!” I yelled.

  “Here at the bottom of the steps,” he answered with a groan.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Only bruised. But my hands are still in cuffs.”

  I limped down the stairway and helped the man to his feet.

  “We’re done for now,” Atwood said. “No one will ever look for us down in this vault. And our cries will never be heard.”

  “Don’t give up,” I said. “We may be able to lift the stone. Let’s try.”

  We went back up the stairs and tried to raise the concrete slab, but despite our best efforts, it would not budge.

  “Listen!” cried Atwood suddenly.

  I heard water running into the empty pool.

  “In an hour’s time, no one will ever guess that a hidden vault lies ben
eath the tank!” Atwood groaned. “We’re doomed!”

  “If we can hear the water splashing above us, our voices might carry!” I reasoned. “Let’s yell for help!”

  We shouted until our voices failed us. Then, completely discouraged, we sagged down on the stairway to rest.

  “Nothing went as I planned,” I said. “I thought the gold was hidden in this vault. If the men had found it, they would have spent hours removing the loot to their boat. Jack would have come with the police while they were still doing it, and everything would have been all right.”

  I realized that Thomas Atwood was no longer listening to me. He struggled to his feet and pressed his ear against the trapdoor.

  “The water has stopped running!”

  “Are you sure?” I jumped to my feet and stood beside him, listening.

  “Yes, and I hear voices!”

  We shouted once more. I was not sure if it was my hopeful imagination, but it seemed that someone answered. As we continued our frantic shouting, there was a scraping on the concrete above our heads.

  “Stand away,” I heard a muffled voice order.

  Before Atwood and I could get out of the way, the great slab lifted. A deluge of water poured in, its force nearly washing us from the steps.

  After the first rush of water subsided, the passage was clear, and we stumbled up the remaining steps to the top and through the rectangular opening.

  Jack grasped my hand, helping me out of the vault. One of the blue-coated policemen aided Atwood, unfastening the handcuffs which held him a prisoner.

  “You’re all right, Jane?” Jack asked anxiously.

  “I feel like a drowned rat,” I said, shaking water out of my hair. “Did you catch Aaron Dietz and his men?”

  Now that our ordeal was over, I realized how terribly wet and cold I was. When Jack put his coat over my shoulders, I tried to shrug it off, but instead of taking the coat back, he stood behind me, placed it back over my shoulders, and then wrapped his arms around me.

  “We didn’t manage to catch Dietz or his men,” Jack said very close to my ear. “When we crossed the river five minutes ago, the cruiser was still there. No sign of anyone around. I brought the police here, and now I suppose they’ve made their get-away.”