Nancy suggested that Miss Flora and Aunt Rosemary report the theft to the police, but the older woman shook her head. Mrs. Hayes, although she agreed this might be wise, added softly, “Mother just might be mistaken. She’s a little forgetful at times about where she puts things.”
With this possibility in mind, she and the girls looked in every drawer in the room, under the mattress and pillows, and even in the pockets of Miss Flora’s clothes. The pearl necklace was not found. Nancy suggested that she and Helen try to find out how the thief had made his entrance.
Helen led the way outdoors. At once Nancy began to look for footprints. No tracks were visible on the front or back porches, or on any of the walks, which were made of finely crushed stone.
“We’ll look in the soft earth beneath the windows,” Nancy said. “Maybe the thief climbed in.”
“But Aunt Rosemary said all the windows on the first floor are kept locked,” Helen objected.
“No doubt,” Nancy said. “But I think we should look for footprints just the same.”
The girls went from window to window, but there were no footprints beneath any. Finally Nancy stopped and looked thoughtfully at the ivy on the walls.
“Do you think the thief climbed up to the second floor that way?” Helen asked “her. ”But there’d still be footprints on the ground.”
Nancy said that the thief could have carried a plank with him, laid it down, and stepped from the walk to the wall of the house. “Then he could have climbed up the ivy and down again, and gotten back to the walk without leaving any footprints.”
Once more Nancy went around the entire house, examining every bit of ivy which wound up from the foundation. Finally she said, “No, the thief didn’t get into the house this way.”
“Well, he certainly didn’t fly in,” said Helen. “So how did he enter?”
Nancy laughed. “If I could tell you that I’d have the mystery half solved.”
She said that she would like to look around the grounds of Twin Elms. “It may give us a clue as to how the thief got into the house.”
As they strolled along, Nancy kept a sharp lookout but saw nothing suspicious. At last they came to a half-crumbled brick walk laid out in an interesting crisscross pattern.
“Where does this walk lead?” Nancy asked.
“Well, I guess originally it went over to Riverview Manor, the next property,” Helen replied. “I’ll show you that mansion later. The first owner was a brother of the man who built this place.”
Helen went on to say that Riverview Manor was a duplicate of Twin Elms mansion. The two brothers had been inseparable companions, but their sons who later lived there had had a violent quarrel and had become lifelong enemies.
“Riverview Manor has been sold several times during the years but has been vacant for a long time.”
“You mean no one lives there now?” Nancy asked. As Helen nodded, she added with a laugh, “Then maybe that’s the ghost’s home!”
“In that case he really must be a ghost,” said Helen lightly. “There’s not a piece of furniture in the house.”
The two girls returned to the Twin Elms mansion and reported their lack of success in picking up a clue to the intruder. Nancy, recalling that many Colonial houses had secret entrances and passageways, asked Miss Flora, “Do you know of any secret entrance to your home that the thief could use?”
She said no, and explained that her husband had been a rather reticent person and had passed away when Rosemary was only a baby. “It’s just possible he knew of a secret entrance, but did not want to worry me by telling me about it,” Mrs. Turnbull said.
Aunt Rosemary, sensing that her mother was becoming alarmed by the questions, suggested that they all have lunch. The two girls went with her to the kitchen and helped prepare a tasty meal of chicken salad, biscuits, and fruit gelatin.
During the meal the conversation covered several subjects, but always came back to the topic of the mystery. They had just finished eating when suddenly Nancy sat straight up in her chair.
“What’s the matter?” Helen asked her.
Nancy was staring out the dining-room door toward the stairway in the hall. Then she turned to Miss Flora. “Did you leave a radio on in your bedroom?”
“Why, no.”
“Did you, Aunt Rosemary?”
“No. Neither Mother nor I turned our radios on this morning. Why do—” She stopped speaking, for now all of them could distinctly hear music coming from the second floor.
Helen and Nancy were out of their chairs instantly. They dashed into the hall and up the stairway. The music was coming from Miss Flora’s room, and when the girls rushed in, they knew indeed that it was from her radio.
Nancy went over to examine the set. It was an old one and did not have a clock attachment with an automatic control.
“Someone came into this room and turned on the radio!” she stated.
A look of alarm came over Helen’s face, but she tried to shake off her nervousness and asked, “Nancy, do you think the radio could have been turned on by remote control? I’ve heard of such things.”
Nancy said she doubted this. “I’m afraid, Helen, that the thief has been in the house all the time. He and the ghost are one and the same person. Oh, I wish we had looked before in the cellar and the attic. Maybe it’s not too late. Come on!”
Helen, instead of moving from the room, stared at the fireplace. “Nancy,” she said, “do you suppose someone is hiding up there?”
Without hesitation she crossed the room, got down on her knees, and tried to look up the chimney. The damper was closed. Reaching her arm up, Helen pulled the handle to open it.
The next moment she cried out, “Ugh!”
“Oh, Helen, you poor thing!” Nancy exclaimed, running to her friend’s side.
A shower of soot had come down, covering Helen’s hair, face, shoulders, and arms.
“Get me a towel, will you, Nancy?” she requested.
Nancy dashed to the bathroom and grabbed two large towels. She wrapped them around her friend, then went with Helen to help her with a shampoo and general cleanup job. Finally Nancy brought her another sports dress.
“I guess my idea about chimneys wasn’t so good,” Helen stated ruefully. “And we’re probably too late to catch the thief.”
Nevertheless, she and Nancy climbed the stairs to the attic and looked behind trunks and boxes to see if anyone were hiding. Next, the girls went to the cellar and inspected the various rooms there. Still there was no sign of the thief who had entered Twin Elms.
After Miss Flora had heard the whole story, she gave a nervous sigh. “It’s the ghost—there’s no other explanation.”
“But why,” Aunt Rosemary asked, “has a ghost suddenly started performing here? This house has been occupied since 1785 and no ghost was ever reported haunting the place.”
“Well, apparently robbery is the motive,” Nancy replied. “But why the thief bothers to frighten you is something I haven’t figured out yet.”
“The main thing,” Helen spoke up, “is to catch him!”
“Oh, if we only could!” Miss Flora said, her voice a bit shaky.
The girls were about to pick up the luncheon dishes from the table, to carry them to the kitchen, when the front door knocker sounded loudly.
“Oh, dear,” said Miss Flora, “who can that be? Maybe it’s the thief and he’s come to harm us!”
Aunt Rosemary put an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Please don’t worry,” she begged. “I think our caller is probably the man who wants to buy Twin Elms.” She turned to Nancy and Helen. “But Mother doesn’t want to sell for the low price that he is offering.”
Nancy said she would go to the door. She set the dishes down and walked out to the hall. Reaching the great door, she flung it open.
Nathan Gomber stood there!
CHAPTER V
A Puzzling Interview
FOR SEVERAL seconds Nathan Gomber stared at Nancy in disbelief. “Y
ou!” he cried out finally.
“You didn’t expect to find me here, did you?” she asked coolly.
“I certainly didn’t. I thought you’d taken my advice and stayed with your father. Young people today are so hardhearted!” Gomber wagged his head in disgust.
Nancy ignored Gomber’s remarks. Shrugging, the man pushed his way into the hall. “I know this. If anything happens to your father, you’ll never forgive yourself. But you can’t blame Nathan Gomber! I warned you!”
Still Nancy made no reply. She kept looking at him steadily, trying to figure out what was really in his mind. She was convinced it was not solicitude for her father.
Nathan Gomber changed the subject abruptly. “I’d like to see Mrs. Turnbull and Mrs. Hayes,” he said. “Go call them.”
Nancy was annoyed by Gomber’s crudeness, but she turned around and went down the hall to the dining room.
“We heard every word,” Miss Flora said in a whisper. “I shan’t see Mr. Gomber. I don’t want to sell this house.”
Nancy was amazed to hear this. “You mean he’s the person who wants to buy it?”
“Yes.”
Instantly Nancy was on the alert. Because of the nature of the railroad deal in which Nathan Gomber was involved, she was distrustful of his motives in wanting to buy Twin Elms. It flashed through her mind that perhaps he was trying to buy it at a very low price and planned to sell it off in building lots at a huge profit.
“Suppose I go tell him you don’t want to sell,” Nancy suggested in a low voice.
But her caution was futile. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to see Gomber standing in the doorway.
“Howdy, everybody!” he said.
Miss Flora, Aunt Rosemary, and Helen showed annoyance. It was plain that all of them thought the man completely lacking in good manners.
Aunt Rosemary’s jaw was set in a grim line, but she said politely, “Helen, this is Mr. Gomber. Mr. Gomber, my niece, Miss Corning.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said their caller, extending a hand to shake Helen’s.
“Nancy, I guess you’ve met Mr. Gomber,” Aunt Rosemary went on.
“Oh, sure!” Nathan Gomber said with a somewhat raucous laugh. “Nancy and me, we’ve met!”
“Only once,” Nancy said pointedly.
Ignoring her rebuff, he went on, “Nancy Drew is a very strange young lady. Her father’s in great danger and I tried to warn her to stick close to him. Instead of that, she’s out here visiting you folks.”
“Her father’s in danger?” Miss Flora said worriedly.
“Dad says he’s not,” Nancy replied. “And besides, I’m sure my father would know how to take care of any enemies.” She looked straight at Nathan Gomber, as if to let him know that the Drews were not easily frightened.
“Well,” the caller said, “let’s get down to business.” He pulled an envelope full of papers from his pocket. “Everything’s here—all ready for you to sign, Mrs. Turnbull.”
“I don’t wish to sell at such a low figure,” Miss Flora told him firmly. “In fact, I don’t know that I want to sell at all.”
Nathan Gomber tossed his head. “You’ll sell all right,” he prophesied. “I’ve been talking to some of the folks downtown. Everybody knows this old place is haunted and nobody would give you five cents for it—that is, nobody but me.”
As he waited for his words to sink in, Nancy spoke up, “If the house is haunted, why do you want it?”
“Well,” Gomber answered, “I guess I’m a gambler at heart. I’d be willing to put some money into this place, even if there is a ghost parading around.” He laughed loudly, then went on, “I declare it might be a real pleasure to meet a ghost and get the better of it!”
Nancy thought with disgust, “Nathan Gomber, you’re about the most conceited, obnoxious person I’ve met in a long time.”
Suddenly the expression of cunning on the man’s face changed completely. An almost wistful look came into his eyes. He sat down on one of the dining-room chairs and rested his chin in his hand.
“I guess you think I’m just a hardheaded business man with no feelings,” he said. “The truth is I’m a real softy. I’ll tell you why I want this old house so bad. I’ve always dreamed of owning a Colonial mansion, and having a kinship with early America. You see, my family were poor folks in Europe. Now that I’ve made a little money, I’d like to have a home like this to roam around in and enjoy its traditions.”
Miss Flora seemed to be touched by Gomber’s story. “I had no idea you wanted the place so much,” she said kindly. “Maybe I ought to give it up. It’s really too big for us.”
As Aunt Rosemary saw her mother weakening, she said quickly, “You don’t have to sell this house, Mother. You know you love it. So far as the ghost is concerned, I’m sure that mystery is going to be cleared up. Then you’d be sorry you had parted with Twin Elms. Please don’t say yes!”
As Gomber gave Mrs. Hayes a dark look, Nancy asked him, “Why don’t you buy Riverview Manor? It’s a duplicate of this place and is for sale. You probably could purchase it at a lower price than you could this one.”
“I’ve seen that place,” the man returned. “It’s in a bad state. It would cost me a mint of money to fix it up. No sir. I want this place and I’m going to have it!”
This bold remark was too much for Aunt Rosemary. Her eyes blazing, she said, “Mr. Gomber, this interview is at an end. Good-by!”
To Nancy’s delight and somewhat to her amusement, Nathan Gomber obeyed the “order” to leave. He seemed to be almost meek as he walked through the hall and let himself out the front door.
“Of all the nerve!” Helen burst out.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hard on the man,” Miss Flora said timidly. “His story is a pathetic one and I can see how he might want to pretend he had an old American family background.”
“I’d like to bet a cooky Mr. Gomber didn’t mean one word of what he was saying,” Helen remarked.
“Oh dear, I’m so confused,” said Miss Flora, her voice trembling. “Let’s all sit down in the parlor and talk about it a little more.”
The two girls stepped back as Miss Flora, then Aunt Rosemary, left the dining room. They followed to the parlor and sat down together on the recessed couch by the fireplace. Nancy, on a sudden hunch, ran to a front window to see which direction Gomber had taken. To her surprise he was walking down the winding driveway.
“That’s strange. Evidently he didn’t drive,” Nancy told herself. “It’s quite a walk into town to get a train or bus to River Heights.”
As Nancy mulled over this idea, trying to figure out the answer, she became conscious of creaking sounds. Helen suddenly gave a shriek. Nancy turned quickly.
“Look!” Helen cried, pointing toward the ceiling, and everyone stared upward.
The crystal chandelier had suddenly started swaying from side to side!
“The ghost again!” Miss Flora cried out. She looked as if she were about to faint.
Nancy’s eyes quickly swept the room. Nothing else in it was moving, so vibration was not causing the chandelier to sway. As it swung back and forth, a sudden thought came to the young sleuth. Maybe someone in Miss Flora’s room above was causing the shaking.
The chandelier suddenly started to sway
“I’m going upstairs to investigate,” Nancy told the others.
Racing noiselessly on tiptoe out of the room and through the hall, she began climbing the stairs, hugging the wall so the steps would not creak. As she neared the top, Nancy was sure she heard a door close. Hurrying along the hall, she burst into Miss Flora’s bedroom. No one was in sight!
“Maybe this time the ghost couldn’t get away and is in that wardrobe!” Nancy thought.
Helen and her relatives had come up the stairs behind Nancy. They reached the bedroom just as she flung open the wardrobe doors. But for the second time she found no one hiding there.
Nancy bit her lip in vexation. The ghost was cleve
r indeed. Where had he gone? She had given him no time to go down the hall or run into another room. Yet there was no denying the fact that he had been in Miss Flora’s room!
“Tell us why you came up,” Helen begged her. Nancy told her theory, but suddenly she realized that maybe she was letting her imagination run wild. It was possible, she admitted to the others, that no one had caused the chandelier to shake.
“There’s only one way to find out,” she said. “I’ll make a test.”
Nancy asked Helen to go back to the first floor and watch the chandelier. She would try to make it sway by rocking from side to side on the floor above it.
“If this works, then I’m sure we’ve picked up a clue to the ghost,” she said hopefully.
Helen readily agreed and left the room. When Nancy thought her friend had had time to reach the parlor below, she began to rock hard from side to side on the spot above the chandelier.
She had barely started the test when from the first floor Helen Corning gave a piercing scream!
CHAPTER VI
The Gorilla Face
“SOMETHING has happened to Helen!” Aunt Rosemary cried out fearfully.
Nancy was already racing through the second-floor hallway. Reaching the stairs, she leaped down them two steps at a time. Helen Corning had collapsed in a wing chair in the parlor, her hands over her face.
“Helen! What happened?” Nancy asked, reaching her friend’s side.
“Out there! Looking in that window!” Helen pointed to the front window of the parlor next to the hall. “The most horrible face I ever sawl”
“Was it a man’s face?” Nancy questioned.
“Oh, I don’t know. It looked just like a gorilla!” Helen closed her eyes as if to shut out the memory of the sight.
Nancy did not wait to hear any more. In another second she was at the front door and had yanked it open. Stepping outside, she looked all around. She could see no animal near the house, nor any sign under the window that one had stood there.
The Hidden Staircase Page 3
