“What do you suspect?” George finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“An opening in this wall,” Nancy answered. “Suppose you girls start at the other end and hunt for a clue.”
Just before they all reached the center of the wall, Bess exclaimed, “Here’s a place that looks as if a rat had gnawed it!”
Nancy studied the edge of the beveled board. She tried pulling it forward with her fingernails. Though t moved a fraction of an inch, she could not budge it any farther.
George was already looking around for a tool and found one made of steel with a hooked end. It was lying on a shelf above the panel. She inserted the hook in the gouged-out spot.
“Be careful!” Bess warned. “We don’t know what may be behind that wood. Some hidden object could shoot out and harm us!”
George had dug the hook deep into the wood and with Nancy’s help the panel began to move. When it turned at right angles to the wall, Nancy shone her flashlight beyond. The three girls gasped. Before them was a fully furnished bedroom.
“The bed has been slept in recently!” Bess exclaimed.
“It’s a secret room!” Nancy cried out. “Oh, girls, this is a wonderful clue!”
There was a switch just inside the movable panel which illuminated three lamps. An open door to one side revealed a fully furnished bathroom. Nancy hurried inside and felt a towel and washcloth.
“They’re damp!” she called. “Someone has been here very recently. I’m sure this is the hide-out of the tapper.”
“And here’s his razor,” said George, rushing in.
Bess admitted that she was frightened. “The intruder certainly has a key to this house,” she declared. “I think all the locks should be changed at once.”
Nancy agreed. Bess offered to go tell Miss Carter even if she had to awaken her again.
“And I’ll attend to getting a locksmith to come here this very afternoon,” she added.
After Bess had left, Nancy and George searched the small bedroom for clues to the identity of the occupant. There was a cot and along one wall stood a highboy. On another was a series of cupboards that reached from the floor to the ceiling. One had a grill metal front but the others were of solid wood. All the doors were locked. The girls opened the highboy drawers but found nothing inside.
George stared at the cupboards. “I sure wish we could get a look inside.”
“I wonder,” said Nancy, “if by any chance that pudgy man lives in this room and the key he dropped might open these cupboards. I’ll get it.”
She went upstairs and took the key from her purse. Nancy was back in a few minutes and inserted the key in the lock.
“It fits!” she exclaimed.
One by one the cupboards were opened. There were several books in one; the others held boxes of letters and other papers.
“These are all addressed to William Woonton at this address,“ Nancy said, after examining several.
“It’s a secret room!” Nancy cried out
“And here’s a diary,” George spoke up, lifting a book from underneath a pile of papers. “It says Diary of Gus Woonton.”
The girls began to turn the leaves of the diary. The notations were startling. They told of Gus Woonton being kept prisoner in the windowless room with only a small duct in the ceiling for fresh air.
One item read: “This is the work of my crazy guardians who are taking care of me while my parents are traveling for a year. My guardians declare I’m crazy and have to be locked up, but it is the other way around. But I’ll get square with them. Every time they let me out of here, I’ll take—”
The sentence was not finished, and though the girls scanned the book thoroughly, they could find no clue as to how Gus was getting square with his guardians or what he planned to take.
“Do you suppose,” said George, “that the pudgy man could be Gus Woonton? And he’s the tapper?”
“Anything is possible,” Nancy replied. “I wonder where he goes when he isn’t in this room.”
Without waiting for a response from George, she went on, “I guess we’d better lock this cupboard and close that panel into the other part of the basement.” She chuckled. “Poor Gus! When he comes here for another night’s sleep, he won’t be able to get in.”
“Why not?” George asked. “He can use this same hook he always does.”
Nancy smiled. “We’ll take the key and the tool upstairs and hide them. I suppose this room is where the tapper hides. Now maybe we or the police will be able to nab him.”
George and Nancy went to Miss Carter’s room. Mrs. Bealing had returned. Both women were astounded at the discovery the girl detectives had made. But Miss Carter could throw no light on Gus Woonton or his parents or guardians.
“I’ll call my lawyer, Carl Amberson, at once and ask him who owned the house before the Smiths did,” she said.
The girls were near the phone and could hear Mr. Amberson’s voice very clearly. Not only was he surprised at the strange happenings, but said that the William Woontons had indeed owned the house at one time.
“I did not know they had a son Gus and I have no idea where they might be. I’ll try to find out, though, and let you know.”
After Miss Carter finished speaking with Mr. Amberson, Nancy asked permission to turn this part of the mystery over to her father.
“He has traced many lost persons,” she said.
The actress agreed and Nancy telephoned Mr. Drew. He, too, was amazed at the turn of events and promised to do what he could.
A few minutes later Bess arrived with a locksmith. The man worked for over an hour to change all the locks, including those on the garage, then went off.
“Now I feel safer,” Bess said with a sigh as she turned over the keys to Miss Carter.
They were about to start preparations for dinner when the telephone rang. Mr. Drew was calling Nancy.
“I have some very important information for you,” he said. “I think you’d better come home as soon as possible. And be sure to bring the diary and the cupboard key with you.”
CHAPTER VII
The Runaway
“CAN’T you tell me now what you found out?” Nancy asked her father.
He laughed. “I think the matter should be kept secret for the present. Anyway, I’d rather not discuss it on the telephone. Here’s more news. The Faynes and Marvins want Bess and George to come home. There’s a special family party being held out of town tonight that they’re to attend.”
Nancy was a bit alarmed about leaving Miss Carter and Mrs. Bealing alone. Apparently Mr. Drew guessed her thought.
“I know you don’t want to desert the Amity Place mystery,” he said, “so I have persuaded Hannah to stay with Miss Carter while you girls have to be away. She’ll take a taxi out there.”
“Oh, Dad, you think of everything!” Nancy said.
Mr. Drew told her a client was waiting so he would have to say good-by. “I’ll see you later.”
Nancy gave his message to Bess and George. Mrs. Bealing was delighted to hear that her friend Hannah Gruen was coming to spend a little time at Miss Carter’s. “She’s such a capable person to have around.”
“She certainly is,” Nancy agreed.
Bess and George had exchanged guilty glances. Both admitted they had completely forgotten the family party!
George said, “Nancy, you always pick up such fascinating mysteries, you make us forget our duties to aunts and uncles and cousins!”
Nancy chuckled. “Sorry, girls. Maybe you can pick up a clue at the party. Ask your relatives if they ever knew or heard of people named Woonton who used to live in Berryville.”
“Will do,” George promised.
The three girls went back to the basement and opened the panel to the secret room. Nancy unlocked the wall cabinet and took out the diary. Then she relocked the cupboard, and the panel was closed again.
Since Bess and George did not know when they would be able to return, they decided to
pack all their clothes and take them home. “I’d enjoy a change of slacks and blouses, anyway,” said Bess.
The cousins had just finished packing when Bess called out, “I heard a car door slam. Perhaps it’s Mrs. Gruen arriving.”
The bell rang and Nancy hurried to the front door. Hannah Gruen stood there, a broad smile on her face.
“Nancy,” she said, “this is the first time I’ve ever tried to substitute for you in solving a mystery.”
As Nancy gave the housekeeper a hug, she said, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll solve it while I’m gone.”
“Not much likelihood of that,” Hannah replied, shaking her head.
Nancy took Mrs. Gruen’s bag and led the way up the stairs to the second floor. Mrs. Bealing greeted her old friend affectionately. Then Hannah was taken to meet Miss Carter.
“I’m sorry you’ve been having so much trouble,” the Drews’ housekeeper said to her.
The actress smiled. “It’s said that bad luck comes in threes. I’ve had mine—first a broken leg, then a mysterious tapper, and finally stolen cats.”
Mrs. Gruen remarked that with all the locks on the house changed, she did not see how anyone could get inside.
“And I believe the person who came to steal your Persians the second time got a good scare. I doubt that he’ll be back.”
Hannah’s assurances made Miss Carter feel better at once. Soon the three women were engaged in a lively conversation. Nancy, Bess, and George left quietly.
“When are you going to get your own car back?” George asked Nancy as they rode off in Ned’s convertible.
“I don’t know. Ned’s coming to take me to the rehearsal.”
When the girls reached Bess’s home, Nancy asked the cousins to call her when they were ready to return to Miss Carter’s. She dropped George at the Fayne house, and a few minutes later pulled into her own driveway.
As she unlocked the kitchen door, the place seemed very different. For an instant Nancy wondered why, then realized she missed the fragrant scent of cooking food. There was always a lingering aroma of some special concoction of Hannah’s in the air.
“It’s just not the same without her here,” Nancy thought wistfully.
Within a few minutes Mr. Drew drove in. While Nancy was preparing dinner from a menu Hannah had left, the lawyer related what he had found out about the Woontons.
“Through a stroke of luck I got the information from a lawyer friend of mine who is the attorney for the Beverly, a private hospital. It takes boys and young men who are having mental problems of one sort or another.
“One of their patients was named Gus Woonton. At the time his parents put him there, they were living in Berryville. I haven’t found out anything yet as to where Mr. and Mrs. William Woonton went after they sold their house.”
Nancy was excited. “Is this Gus Woonton well enough to be interviewed?” she asked.
Mr. Drew’s answer was a surprise. “Gus Woonton ran away from the Beverly several weeks ago and there hasn’t been any trace of him since that time.”
“Oh!” Nancy exclaimed.
She told her father of her suspicion that the man using the secret bedroom and bath in the basement of Miss Carter’s house might be Gus Woonton.
“And he might be the tapper,” she added.
“You could be right, Nancy. That pudgy man who followed you and who attacked Ned at the school fits the description of the Gus Woonton who ran away. He had a penchant for running away since the time he was a little boy.”
“You mean running away from home?” Nancy asked.
Her father nodded. “Yes, and also from school and camp, and at times from hotels when the family was on a trip. When Gus reached his late teens, he became worse, so his parents finally took him to the Beverly.”
“What about the guardians?” Nancy asked.
“There was no mention of them. But the Beverly’s lawyer promised to call me if he finds out anything more about the William Woontons.”
“And there are no clues as to where Gus was running to this time?” Nancy queried.
“Not one, and I think your guess is as good as anybody else‘s,” her father remarked. “Tonight we’ll have the police keep an even closer watch on Miss Carter’s house. Since all the locks on the entrance doors have been changed, the tapper won’t be able to get inside. The officers can close in quickly and grab him if he comes to the house.”
As Nancy continued preparing the meal, she and her father speculated about whether or not Gus Woonton lived in the house regularly or just slept there once in a while. And was he the tapper? If so, why was he tapping? Was he just acting spooky to annoy the people in the house, hoping to get them out? Or was there a more sinister motive behind his actions?
Just as dinner was ready, the bell rang. Ned Nickerson had arrived. At once he asked Nancy if she had solved the mystery.
“It’s not solved, but we have some good clues,” she replied, and briefed him on the latest developments.
“Sounds like progress all right,” he commented.
After the meal was over and the kitchen had been tidied, Nancy and Ned had to hurry to make the rehearsal on time.
As they walked into the school a few minutes later, he said, “Tonight, instead of sittin in the auditorium, I think I’ll play detective and walk around the corridors to keep a lookout for that pudgy fellow.”
They separated and Nancy went up to the stage. Ned made sure that the front door was securely locked as well as all the side entrances. On one of his trips into the corridor back of the stage, he thought he smelled smoke.
“It seems to be coming from under the stage,” Ned decided, and opened the door to a stairway. He ran down the steps.
A thin wisp of smoke was coming from the prop room next to the dressing rooms. A fire extinguisher hung on the wall. He grabbed it. Turning the heavy spray can over, he sent a volume of foam onto a pile of clothes which were on fire in the center of the floor.
“I hope this does it,” he thought.
In the meantime Nancy found herself with a fifteen-minute recess from the rehearsal.
“I’ll see if Ned has learned anything,” she told herself, and went out into the corridor back of the stage.
As she neared the doorway to the basement, Nancy smelled smoke. She hurried down the stairway and saw Ned busy with the extinguisher.
“Oh, Nancy, I’m glad you’ve come. I’m afraid this is too much of a blaze for me to put out alone.”
Nancy agreed. “I’d better call the fire department right away.”
“Good idea,” Ned replied.
She dashed up the stairway and turned the knob on the door which had closed. It was locked!
Frantically Nancy knocked on the door but she had little hope that anyone would hear her. The orchestra was playing loudly.
Nevertheless, she thumped until her knuckles hurt. Still no one came to open the door!
CHAPTER VIII
Missing Diary
FOR a moment Nancy panicked. The situation was desperate. She and Ned must get out of the basement!
She continued to pound her fists on the door and yell as loudly as she could. But the orchestra was still playing a lively number and it drowned out her frantic cries.
“Maybe there’s another exit from the prop room,” Nancy told herself.
Though the smoke was now thick, she went back down the stairs. Her smarting eyes caught sight of another fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. She grabbed it off the hook.
Before using it, Nancy ran into the powder room and held two towels under a faucet. When they were soaking wet, she hurried to Ned’s side and handed one to him. He quickly tied it over his nose and mouth, while Nancy put the other one across hers.
“Are the firemen coming? Let’s get out of here!” Ned said grimly.
“We can‘t! The door’s locked! And nobody heard me yelling.”
Ned did not answer. He grabbed the new extinguisher, which was more effective, and played it o
n the flames. Nancy sprayed a stream with the one he had used. Finally the blaze began to die down.
The couple started looking for another exit but there was none. As they went up the smoke-filled stairway, the door to the corridor suddenly opened. There were exclamations of dismay from above.
“There’s a fire in the prop room!” a man exclaimed. “Call the fire department! Quick! Call the police!”
Nancy and Ned scooted up and explained to them what had happened.
“You put out the fire?” a girl asked unbelievingly. “Why, it’s Nancy Drew! Oh, I think you’re wonderful! I could never be that brave!”
“This is my friend Ned Nickerson,” Nancy said. “He discovered the fire and should get the credit.”
Other members of the cast and the director now crowded around the couple and demanded to hear the whole story. Nancy and Ned quickly explained, then asked who had locked the door to the basement. Everyone denied having done it, or having been downstairs.
“I’m sure,” said Nancy, “that the fire was set deliberately.”
“What!” Mr. Skank cried out.
By this time firemen and police had arrived. After an examination of the prop room, they agreed that the fire was of an incendiary nature. Someone had deliberately placed costumes in a heap on the floor, oil-soaked them, and started the blaze.
“How wicked!” a young woman cried out.
Nancy and Ned had been whispering about the possibility that the pudgy man might have been the one who had done it. They speculated that possibly he had sneaked into the building while the actors and actresses were arriving. The couple queried each one in the cast, but none of them had seen anyone who fitted that description.
“We have no leads at all,” Nancy said, disappointed.
“One may turn up,” Ned replied. “The police will probably find something.”
The firemen and police were sure that the arsonist had escaped. Nevertheless, each classroom was thoroughly searched. But they found no one.
The Clue of the Tapping Heels Page 4
