The Secret of the Wooden Lady

by Carolyn Keene

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I - A Call for Help

  CHAPTER II - The Telltale Ring

  CHAPTER III - The Mysterious Clipper

  CHAPTER IV - A Ghostly Prowler

  Mark of a Thief

  CHAPTER VI - Unexpected Visitors

  CHAPTER VII - A Suspicious Story

  CHAPTER VIII - Fire!

  CHAPTER IX - Stowaways

  CHAPTER X - An Unusual Box

  CHAPTER XI - A Favorite Lady

  CHAPTER XII - A Pirate’s Prize

  CHAPTER XIII - The Shadowy Figure

  CHAPTER XIV - A Strange Warning

  CHAPTER XV - Hidden Treasure

  CHAPTER XVI - A Trap Door

  CHAPTER XVII - The Long-Lost Clue

  CHAPTER XVIII - The Sailor’s Tale

  CHAPTER XIX - A Fiendish Plot

  CHAPTER XX - Dreams Come True

  THE SECRET OF THE WOODEN LADY

  ADVENTURE abounds on the Bonny Scot in Boston Harbor as Nancy Drew helps Captain Easterly uncover the mystery of his ghostly visitors. From the moment the clever young detective and her friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, take up residence on the old clipper ship they are confronted with fire, theft, and other dangerous situations.

  Nancy faces an additional challenge: to find a clue to the clipper’s missing figurehead. If she is successful, it will help her lawyer father to trace the history of the Bonny Scot and establish a clear title to the ship for Captain Easterly. But strangely there are no records of the Bonny Scot’s past. Why? And why has the prime suspect in the recent robbery at Bess Marvin’s home followed the three girls to Boston?

  Join Nancy and her friends in their thrilling adventures and discover for yourself the romantic secret of the old sailing ship.

  “Here it is!” Nancy cried out. “Dream of Melissa—all spelled out.”

  Copyright © 1995,1967,1950, by Simon & Schuster, lnc. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset Group,

  New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.

  NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster,

  Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-07728-3

  2007 Printing

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER I

  A Call for Help

  “PLEASE call your father, Nancy,” Hannah Gruen, the Drews’ housekeeper, said. “Fried chicken is better when it’s hot.”

  Nancy, her titian hair still damp from a swim, skipped lightly up the carpeted stairway and tiptoed into her father’s den. She slid quietly onto an arm of his big green club chair and patted the top of the lawyer’s head.

  “Supper, Dad! Goodness, what’s in that letter to make you frown so?”

  Carson Drew laid the handwritten letter down on his desk and smiled up at his vivacious, eighteen-year-old daughter.

  “Clipper ships and sea ghosts!” he replied. “I hope the man’s not imagining things!”

  “Who, Dad?”

  “My old friend Captain Easterly—that interesting fellow we met in Boston last year. Remember?”

  “Does he still live on that clipper ship in the harbor?”

  “Yes. But he doesn’t like the mysterious person who prowls around the old craft.”

  Nancy’s keen blue eyes shot an inquisitive glance at her father. “Come on, Dad,” she said impatiently, “let me in on the secret!”

  Tall, handsome Carson Drew stood up, thrust his hands into his pockets, and paced the floor.

  “It’s a peculiar thing,” he said.

  Mr. Drew explained that Captain Easterly, who had rented his ship-home for a couple of years, had recently decided to buy it. At once things had begun to happen on shipboard. A mysterious prowler had made several visits and done a lot of searching, but apparently had never taken anything.

  “Does Captain Easterly have any idea what the person was looking for?” Nancy asked.

  “Not the faintest idea,” the lawyer replied. “Some of the dockmen think the ship is haunted.”

  “Does Captain Easterly want us to solve the mystery?” Nancy asked eagerly.

  The lawyer stopped pacing and looked at her, a twinkle in his eyes. “Easterly has asked me to come to Boston. He writes that the owner of the ship agreed to sell it, but when it came time to draw up a contract, his lawyer discovered that he doesn’t have clear title to the property. Easterly had someone in Boston make a search, but no record of the previous owners could be found. The captain wants me to make a search immediately because he is eager to complete the purchase before the owner goes West.”

  “I see,” Nancy said. “Is that all?”

  “That’s all for me,” Mr. Drew replied. “But—how would you like to go to Boston with me and work on the mystery?”

  “Wonderful, Dad!”

  At that moment Hannah Gruen appeared in the study doorway. “Supper is getting cold!” she announced.

  “Hannah, Dad and I have a new mystery to solve!” Nancy exclaimed.

  “Mystery or no mystery, this family must eat,” Hannah said firmly. “Come along.”

  Mr. Drew winked at his daughter and they followed the housekeeper downstairs to the dining room. Mrs. Gruen had taken care of Nancy and the Drew household since the death of Mrs. Drew many years before, and father and daughter were very fond of her.

  “How soon will we be going to Boston, Dad?” Nancy asked when they were seated.

  “Let you know in the morning. I have an appointment at my office at eight tonight. Want to drive me downtown? I’ll walk back.”

  “Love to,” Nancy said.

  “And you can drop me off at my club meeting,” Mrs. Gruen added.

  Two hours later, driving home alone in her convertible, Nancy thought over the conversation she had had with her father. An old clipper ship with unknown former owners, and a mysterious prowler ...

  This was not the first time Nancy had been called upon to rescue someone in trouble. Ever since people had learned that Nancy possessed unusual ability to solve mysteries, the young detective had been called upon to track down scoundrels of various types. Only recently she solved the strange case of The Clue of the Leaning Chimney. Captain Easterly’s present predicament seemed like the beginning of another case for Nancy.

  As Nancy turned into her driveway, she heard the telephone ringing in the house. She parked the car and hurried into the hall to answer it.

  “Nancy?” It was Bess Marvin, one of her best friends. The girl’s soft voice was a bit quavery. “I’m all alone—Dad’s at the council meeting and Mother’s gone to visit Aunt Celia.”

  “Not afraid, are you?” Nancy teased. “I’m glad you called. I have some wonderful news.”

  Nancy excitedly related the story of Captain Easterly’s clipper ship and how a mysterious person was looking for something aboard, maybe a hidden treasure.

  “Dad’s going to take me to Boston with him!” Nancy concluded.

  “You’ll probably have some exciting adventures, Nancy,” Bess said. “But do be careful.”

  Nancy was about to put down the telephone when Bess cried out, “Nancy, wait!”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I hear someone upstairs.” Bess’s voice was a frightened whisper. “There is someone! Oh, Nancy!”

  As Bess screamed, there was a clatter at the other end of the line as if she had dropped the telephone.

  “Hello!” Nancy cried. “Hello! Bess!”

  There was no answer. Nancy tried to call the police. The lines were busy! She
put down the telephone, then ran out of the house and hopped into her car.

  The Marvin home was only a few blocks away. Three minutes later Nancy parked at the curb and hurried toward the house. All the windows were dark. That was odd, she thought.

  The great elm tree by the porch and the overgrown shrubs cast deep shadows on the lawn. Nancy thought she saw something move among the rhododendrons next to the porch steps, but she told herself it was just her imagination; the breeze was moving the leaves.

  She was halfway up the walk when suddenly an arm gripped her shoulder. Someone whirled her around and forced her toward the convertible.

  The arm was tight against Nancy’s throat; a man’s arm in a rough coat sleeve, cutting off her breathing. His fingers pressed into her left shoulder. She caught sight of the short square hand, the broken nails, and on the little finger a ring which glimmered in the light from a street lamp.

  She strained every muscle and tried to jerk free. The man brought his other hand up to the back of her neck. His thumb pressed unbearably. Nancy ceased to struggle.

  When she opened her eyes, she was half lying, half sitting in the front seat of her car. There was no sound except the drone of locusts. Slowly Nancy regained full consciousness. The Marvin house was still dark. Where was Bess? Nancy realized she must get help. She must get out of the car.

  With effort Nancy pulled herself upright, but her hands and legs seemed to be paralyzed. Somehow she must give an alarm!

  She tried to scream, but her voice was weak and small. The horn! She leaned on it with her full weight and kept leaning. Someone surely would hear it.

  Presently the front door of the house next to the Marvins’ flew open, and a man’s voice bellowed, “Shut off that horn!”

  Nancy kept on blowing.

  Someone whirled Nancy around and forced her toward the convertible

  Mr. Beaman marched down his front walk, and strode furiously to the convertible. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded.

  Nancy managed a weak smile. “I had to do it, Mr. Beaman. Sorry. Can’t get out of the car!”

  Mr. Beaman leaned closer. “Why, Nancy Drew! Are you hurt?”

  “I’m recovering. Got knocked out. Bess Marvin —I’m afraid something has happened to her.”

  “I’ll get Mr. Simmons,” Mr. Beaman said excitedly, not waiting to hear any more. “You sit still. Don’t go into the house alone.”

  Nancy watched him hurry across the lawns to the Simmons’ house. She was feeling stronger now, and was sure that the intruder, whoever he was, would not have stayed around to be caught. She stepped to the curb, then walked cautiously toward Bess’s house.

  Nancy had reached the porch steps when Mr. Beaman and Mr. Simmons came running across the grass. They swung the beams from their flashlights over the bushes and shrubs, but there was no one around.

  “My wife is calling the police,” Mr. Simmons said. “Say, you look pretty shaky, Nancy. Sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Nancy assured him. “Oh, I hope nothing has happened to Bess. Let’s hurry.”

  They opened the screen door and entered the dark hall of the Marvin home.

  CHAPTER II

  The Telltale Ring

  NANCY found the light switch and the three of them stood there a moment, blinking. There were no signs of a struggle in the hall. The telephone was back in place and the big bowl of peonies beside it was undisturbed.

  “Bess!” Nancy called. “Bess, where are you?” There was no answer.

  “You two look around down here and I’ll go upstairs,” Mr. Simmons suggested.

  Mr. Beaman was already going through the first floor, switching on lights.

  “Somebody’s raised Cain up here,” Mr. Sim. mons called down in a moment.

  Mr. Beaman hurried upstairs. Nancy, left alone in the hall, had an idea. She reasoned that someone had come up behind Bess as she stood at the telephone. He probably had knocked her out. If so, where could he have concealed her?

  As Nancy looked about, she remembered the deep closet back of the stairway. Nancy opened the door and peered into the darkness.

  “Bess!” she called. “Bess!”

  There was a murmur from behind the coats. Nancy shoved them aside and bent down. Bess was lying on the floor.

  “Bess, are you hurt?” Nancy exclaimed, kneeling beside her friend.

  The girl slowly opened her eyes. “I—I—What happened?”

  “Somebody knocked you out,” Nancy said. “Don’t you remember?”

  Bess sat up and cautiously rubbed the back of her head. “I saw him, all right. He came tearing down the stairs, holding a handkerchief over his face. Then he grabbed me around the shoulders and pressed his thumb into the back of my neck. Oh, it was awful!”

  “The same man who overpowered me!” Nancy declared. “I wonder when he got into the house.”

  “While I was out,” Bess replied. She was calmer now. “I drove with Mother to Aunt Celia’s and walked home. I suppose the man didn’t hear me come into the house, so he was trapped.”

  Nancy called to Mr. Simmons and Mr. Beaman.

  “It was a thief, no doubt about it,” Mr. Simmons told Bess. “You should see your parents’ bedroom. Looks like the day after a hurricane.”

  He telephoned City Hall, got Mr. Marvin out of the council meeting, and told him to come home at once. A police car, its siren screeching, came up the street, and in a moment officers Kelly and Flynn walked in the front door.

  “Nancy Drew on the job already?” Officer Kelly asked, smiling. “What’s the trouble?”

  They told him what had happened.

  “Robbery?” Flynn suggested.

  Mr. Beaman nodded. “Come upstairs and see for yourselves.”

  When they entered Mr. and Mrs. Marvin’s bedroom it was obvious that someone had made a hasty and rather clumsy search for jewelry. Bess picked up a blue velvet box from the bed.

  “Mother kept her valuable jewelry in this,” she said. “A pearl necklace, some pins, and several rings.”

  “Does your father own a diamond ring, Bess?” Nancy asked suddenly.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “The man who pushed me into the car was wearing one on the little finger of his left hand.”

  “Can you describe the fellow?” Officer Flynn inquired, taking out his notebook.

  Nancy shook her head. “He came up behind me—all I really saw were his coat sleeve and his right hand.”

  “He wasn’t tall,” Bess put in, “and he wore a baggy gray suit. I think he had on sneakers—he made hardly any noise.”

  While they were talking, Nancy was turning over in her mind the peculiar actions of the thief. It was easy to understand why he had wanted to get rid of Bess—undoubtedly he had heard her say she knew there was someone in the house. He did not want her to call the police.

  But why had he taken such effective means to keep Nancy out of the house? she wondered. He already had stolen the jewelry and left Bess unconscious. Why didn’t he escape?

  Nancy thought she knew. He needed more time for something else. She got down on her hands and knees and began a search of the bedroom carpet, inch by inch.

  “What are you up to?” Kelly asked.

  “Just a hunch,” Nancy told the officer. Lifting the edge of the bedspread, she reached as far under the bed as she could. Nothing there. She went around to the other side and did the same thing. This time her hand touched a small, hard metal object.

  “Nancy, you’ve found something!” Bess cried.

  “Get me a sheet of your mother’s stationery,” Nancy requested.

  Bess obeyed and Nancy carefully slid the paper under the object so as not to mar any fingerprints, and brought it out.

  “A man’s signet ring!” Mr. Simmons exclaimed. “Perhaps it belongs to Mr. Marvin.”

  Bess shook her head. “I’ve never seen it before. And the initial on it is F.”

  At that moment Mr. Marvin came running up the stairs
. “Bess, are you all right?” he asked with deep concern. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m perfectly all right, Dad,” Bess assured him. “I’m afraid most of Mother’s jewelry has been stolen, and also your diamond ring. This isn’t your ring, is it?”

  Mr. Marvin glanced at it. “No.”

  “Then it was dropped by the thief,” Flynn concluded. “But I can’t understand why the fellow took off his ring here.”

  Nancy said she thought the thief had picked up the extension telephone to listen to Bess’s conversation. While he listened, he had slipped his own ring off to try on Mr. Marvin’s diamond. The signet ring had rolled off the telephone table and under the bed. Then he heard Bess say someone was upstairs, so he had to quiet her before she could call the police.

  “Before he had a chance to hunt for the ring, I drove up to the house,” Nancy went on. “So he knocked me out and came inside again. When I leaned on the horn a couple of minutes later, he fled, probably through the back door.”

  “Right,” Kelly said. “It was open.”

  “Can you get any fingerprints from this ring?” Nancy asked the policeman.

  Flynn shook his head. “All we can hope for are partial prints from such a small surface. But the initial may help. The design is unusual. Anyway, Miss Drew, you did a nice job of deduction.”

  The policeman took an envelope from his pocket and dropped the ring into it.

  Nancy drove home, followed by the police car, although she did not think she needed their protection. The young detective felt sure that the man who had lost the ring was far from the scene of the robbery by this time. Perhaps he had even left River Heights.

  Nancy thought about him as she put the convertible into the garage. Her father and Mrs. Gruen had not yet returned. She entered the house, climbed the wide stairs, and went to bed.

  Somewhere, sometime, she had seen that man’s right hand before. There was something different about it. What was it? Unable to find the answer, she fell asleep.

  Early the next morning Nancy was awakened by a joyful bark outside her door. Togo, her terrier, wanted to come in. Nancy reached over and opened the door. Togo put his front paws up on the bed and barked again.