The Sign of the Twisted Candles

by Carolyn G. Keene

  “Nancy—something—something—”

  “Is this Bess? Or George?” Nancy demanded.

  “Nancy, this is Carol. Oh, please come at once! Something awful has happened. O-oh!”

  There was a sharp click, then silence. Carol had hung up, leaving Nancy in a state of mingled surprise and alarm. She ran to her father at once, and in a few words repeated what she had heard.

  Mr. Drew’s face became grave. “We must go there immediately,” he said. “I will be ready as soon as you bring your car around in front.”

  A few minutes later Nancy and her father were on the now-familiar road to The Sign of the Twisted Candles. Few words were exchanged between them, for their minds were intent on the mysterious and urgent summons from Carol.

  What could have happened? Nancy thought of a dozen answers. Perhaps Mrs. Jemitt had not kept her promise and had done something cruel to Carol. Perhaps Peter and Jacob had met again, and had joined in a pitched battle.

  At last the tower of the old mansion could be seen above the trees, and a minute later Nancy steered into the sweeping driveway.

  “Oh!” she gasped, applying the brakes.

  An undertaker’s long black car was just driving away. Someone was—dead!

  Nancy did not wait for her father but ran into the house. She halted at the sight of Carol’s huddled form on the bottom step of the big staircase, her head on her knees, her thin shoulders shaking with sobs.

  “Carol!” Nancy cried, sitting down beside the girl and clasping her hands. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Mis-Mister Si-Si-Sidney,” Carol said. “He died during the night. I found him—I thought he was asleep—when I brought up his breakfast this morning.”

  As Mr. Drew walked into the hall, Nancy stated soberly, “Mr. Sidney is dead.”

  “Too bad,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry. It’s true that he lived far, far longer than most persons do, and his life was not a happy one. If only he had lasted a little longer until certain matters could be straightened out, what trouble could have been averted!”

  “Why, Dad, what do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  “I mean that the bickering relatives will now gather and begin to fight over the estate. Then there are other people who probably have already removed some of his property, reducing the value of the estate.”

  At this juncture, Frank Jemitt appeared with a long face. “Mr. Sidney has gone to his just reward,” the innkeeper intoned.

  “I shall stay here as his executor and take charge,” Mr. Drew replied simply.

  “Who asked you to butt in?” Jemitt snapped, dropping his pretense of sorrow. “There’s nothing to be done. Emma and I have made arrangements for the funeral, and we’ll even pay for it out of our own pockets!”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the lawyer told him.

  Nancy noted that Asa Sidney’s death seemed to have added to Jemitt’s courage—and offensive-ness.

  Mr. Drew regarded the man keenly. Determined to assume charge of the late Asa Sidney’s personal effects, he said evenly:

  “Your services will not be needed here much longer, Mr. Jemitt. You are free to make other plans and leave any time after the funeral.”

  “Is that so? Well, we’ll see about that!” Jemitt snapped.

  CHAPTER XI

  Surprise Inheritance

  SHOCKED by Jemitt’s complete lack of mourning for a man who had been so kind to him, Nancy, her father, and Carol looked at the innkeeper in disgust.

  “I think,” said Mr. Drew, “that you had better keep such thoughts to yourself until after Mr. Sidney’s will is read. Until then, there is work for you to do. First of all, prepare a sign to put over the one at the entrance. Mark it ‘Closed.’ Then make a complete list of all the food on hand.”

  Jemitt answered defiantly, “Why do you think you can give me orders?”

  “Because as Mr. Sidney’s attorney I am in charge here. I’ll need a duplicate set of keys.”

  The manager stepped back in surprise. “Okay, I’ll do what you say. But first my wife and I will clean up the tower room.”

  At that announcement Nancy squeezed her father’s hand as a signal not to leave the couple alone on the third floor. He understood her message.

  “Mr. Jemitt, my daughter, and Carol—if she feels able—will accompany you. Do not touch anything but the bedding and towels. I’ll join you after I make a few phone calls.”

  The caretaker’s eyelids narrowed to a look of hatred but he kept silent.

  “I—I’ll be all right,” Carol said, rising.

  Nancy put an arm about her and they went upstairs together. A quiver ran through the younger girl’s body as they entered the tower, but this lasted only a moment. The Jemitts arrived almost immediately. Instead of confining their work to the bed and bathroom, they began mop-ping and dusting. It was soon evident that they were doing more snooping than cleaning.

  Fearful that the Jemitts would find the hidden bracelet, Nancy finally spoke up. “My father did not ask you to do this,” she said.

  “Humph!” the woman exclaimed. “And what does he know about cleaning?” She went on with her work.

  “Stop!” Nancy ordered. “Carol, run down and tell my father to come right up here.”

  As Carol started from the room, Jemitt said, “Oh, all right. Emma, take the linen and blanket off the bed.” As she did, Nancy saw him lift a corner of the mattress and peer underneath.

  Realizing his action had been detected, Jemitt quickly straightened up and went to get the towels from an adjacent bathroom. By this time Mr. Drew had arrived and instantly Jemitt and his wife vanished down the stairway.

  But the Drews heard Jemitt shout back, “Carol, don’t you dare take any more orders from Nancy Drew or her father! We’re your foster parents and you’ll do as we say! Right now get to work on our bedrooms.”

  Nancy sighed. “Dad, isn’t it frightful?”

  He nodded. “I see more trouble ahead, but two things we must do: protect Carol and take care of this old mansion. Nancy, do you think Hannah would be willing to come here and stay with you?”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m sure she would, and I’m glad that you want me to stay.”

  The lawyer smiled. “I think Carol needs you.” A few minutes later several relatives arrived, saying Jemitt had phoned them. Nancy was glad Bess and George were not among them, because she did not feel equal to coping with that unhappy situation at this time. Mrs. Fayne and Mrs. Marvin came with Peter Boonton. They spoke coolly to Nancy. Jacob Sidney was accompanied by a man he introduced as his legal adviser. All of them went to the third floor.

  Interest centered upon Mr. Drew. He had taken his stand like a sentry at the door to the tower room and allowed no one to enter.

  The two nephews pleaded for a chance to go into Asa Sidney’s room “just to pick up a small keepsake,” but were denied. When an opportunity came to speak to the lawyer privately, Jacob Sidney tried to learn what was in his great-uncle’s will.

  “I am not free to say at this time,” Mr. Drew answered.

  Midmorning a deputy from the sheriff’s office arrived in response to the attorney’s summons. He affixed a seal to the door of the tower room, where Asa Sidney had told Mr. Drew he kept valuable papers.

  Mr. Drew’s only response to all questions was, “I must comply with the law and the ethics of my profession.”

  He did, however, have a longer conversation with the Jemitts. “You are responsible for that room,” he told them. “If the seal is broken you will be arrested. The windows are also locked and sealed so there is an additional responsibility to see that no one climbs in through them.” Awe-struck, the caretaker and his wife agreed to follow his orders.

  At last Mr. Drew called the relatives together in the living room and told them of the funeral plans. “We’ll meet here in two days to read the will,” he added. “At two in the afternoon.”

  “If that’s the earliest, all right,” Peter Boonton assented with
a grumble and the relatives left.

  A little while later Mr. Drew took his daughter’s car and drove off. Nancy went to talk to Carol, who was in her room. The girl was heart-broken.

  “I feel so lonely,” she confessed. “I hope Mr. Sidney left this house to the Jemitts. It’s the only home I know, and it’s full of memories of his kindness to me. I’d like to remain here—where I can see you often, Nancy.”

  “Don’t worry, Carol. And for the next few days I’m going to stay with you all the time. Our darling housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, is coming out to be with us.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Carol said. “That makes me feel so much better.”

  Mrs. Gruen arrived by taxi at lunchtime and the girls went down to meet her. She carried two suitcases, one of them Nancy’s.

  After expressing her sympathy to Carol, she asked, “What was being sent from this mansion in a truck?”

  When Nancy and Carol said that they didn’t know, Hannah went on, “There were several cartons. Here comes the man now who helped load them.” Jemitt was striding toward the group from the kitchen.

  “Hannah, this is Mr. Jemitt,” Nancy introduced him. “I’d like—”

  “This place is closed,” he said abruptly. “Didn’t you see the sign? No meals, no rooms.”

  Mrs. Gruen said with dignity, “I have been invited to stay here.”

  “By whom?” When Jemitt was told, he sneered, “Well, don’t expect my wife and me to wait on you.”

  As he started to leave, Nancy said, “What were you sending from here in cartons?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nancy explained and Jemitt answered, “Just some personal things. Your father told me and my wife to get out of here, so I’ve started packing.” He hurried off.

  “Hm!” said Mrs. Gruen. “I guess I’ve moved into a hornet’s nest.”

  Nancy nodded in agreement, then whispered, “I wish I had my car here. I’d follow that truck.”

  “You can do it, anyway,” Hannah Gruen told her. “Mose Blaine drove me here in his taxi. I had him wait in case you wanted to pick up your car. It’s at your father’s office.”

  “Oh you dear!” Nancy cried. She grabbed her purse, rushed from the inn, and jumped into the taxi. “Did you notice which direction that truck took?” she asked the driver.

  “Yes. It went east.”

  “Please follow it,” Nancy directed.

  Mose Blaine looked surprised but did as she requested. Nancy said, “Don’t break the law, but go as fast as you can.”

  The man grinned. “This buggy’s kind o’ old, Miss Drew, and it’s got rattles and creaks. I always say it groans with machinery rheumatiz pains.”

  Nancy smiled as she bounced and swayed on the rear seat. The taxi did not catch up to the truck until it pulled into the yard of a storage warehouse. Nancy asked Mose to wait for her at the curb. She waited until the driver of the truck went into the warehouse, then stepped out and walked into the yard. Pretending to give the cartons a casual glance, she looked for markings. One box lay on its side. Bold crayoned words read:FRANK JEMITT

  VALUABLE

  SPECIAL STORAGE

  Were the contents of the cartons the property of Asa Sidney? Nancy wondered as she hurried back to the taxi. She directed Mose to Mr. Drew’s office. When she reached it, Nancy paid the amount on the meter, gave the driver a generous tip, and stepped out.

  He thanked her, then said, “Ain’t you goin’ to tell me what the mystery is?”

  Nancy chuckled. “Someday, maybe.” She headed for the office building.

  Mr. Drew was amazed at her story and remarked, “You’re on the job all right. When you arrive back at the inn with your own car, I doubt that Jemitt will suspect you followed the truck—and that’s just as well.”

  As soon as Nancy returned to the Sidney mansion, she had lunch, then arranged with Mrs. Gruen and Carol to work subtly on one of two aspects of the case: they were to watch every movement of the Jemitts. She herself would continue to look for hidden articles.

  The afternoon and evening wore on with no unusual happenings and no luck in her search. Hannah Gruen helped with the preparation of meals and tidied the house. In this way she was able to keep track of Mrs. Jemitt, while her husband’s comings and goings were watched by Carol.

  Nancy had found no more signs of a twisted candle, indicating hidden treasure. In her bedroom she made a discovery. Under the large rug a section of flooring was removable and Nancy pulled it up. To her disappointment, the space below was empty. Had the Jemitts removed something from the hiding place? she wondered.

  Several times that day and the next Nancy found Carol alone, weeping. “I feel so terrible,” she finally said. “My dear, true friend Mr. Sidney is gone. Now I’ll have to leave this place with the Jemitts. Nancy, I just dread it.”

  Nancy comforted the girl the best she could, but had to admit that the outlook was bleak.

  At last the funeral was over and the relatives gathered at The Sign of the Twisted Candles for the reading of the will. They assembled in the living room. George and Bess were there. The cousins nodded a solemn greeting to Nancy but stayed close to their parents.

  Mr. Drew directed the Jemitts, Carol, and Nancy to be present. Nancy stood behind Carol, who had taken a seat at the edge of the circle of whispering relatives, her eyes downcast in shyness.

  “We have met,” Mr. Drew began, “to read the last will and testament of Mr. Asa Sidney. The document was written only a few days ago, in his own hand and in duplicate. The original is already filed in the courthouse. I hold the copy here. The two have been carefully compared and found to be exact duplicates.

  “The will was witnessed by Mr. Raymond Hill, executive vice president of the Smith’s Ferry branch of the River Heights National Bank. I preface the reading of these papers with these remarks because some of its provisions may surprise you. I may add that—although I am named sole executor of the estate—I had never met Mr. Sidney until I was summoned by him to help draw up this document.”

  Mr. Drew opened a bulky envelope, and unfolded some crisp sheets of paper.

  “Mr. Hill, will you identify this testament?”

  The banker, who had been seated unnoticed in one corner, arose, examined the papers, and nodded.

  “That is my signature,” he said. “And those are my initials on each sheet. This is the document which Mr. Sidney prepared, and which I witnessed.” He sat down.

  “Hurry up with the reading and cut out the fancy business!” Jacob Sidney called out.

  Mr. Drew shot him a disapproving look. Then he began to read, while everyone except Carol leaned forward tensely.

  “ ‘I, Asa Sidney, being of sound mind, although in the hundred and first year of my life, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament, prepared by my own hand, legally witnessed, and replaces all previous wills made by me.

  “ ‘First, all my just debts are to be paid. Following that, all my property, real and personal, is to be disposed of after my death, as follows:

  “ ‘These relatives of myself and my wife, namely Jacob Sidney, Peter Boonton, Anna Boonton Marvin and her daughter Bess Marvin, Louise Boonton Fayne and her daughter George Fayne, as well as the young woman known as Carol Wipple, shall select by mutual consent and in the order named one article of furniture from my belongings as a permanent keepsake.’ ”

  “Oh, Nancy, he didn’t forget me!” Carol whispered.

  “ ‘Excepting,’ ” Mr. Drew continued with emphasis, “ ‘the portrait of my late, beloved wife, which will be disposed of hereinafter.

  “ ‘I then direct that all my other property be converted into cash by legal sale at the best current price as soon as possible after my death.’ ”

  There followed a list of items to be sold. The house, with four hundred acres of surrounding land, headed the list. Then came a piece of valuable real estate in the heart of the River Heights business district. Two bank accounts and a quantity of stocks and bonds were m
entioned.

  Mr. Drew read on, “ ‘The bankbooks, deeds, receipts, and some of the securities are in a black wooden chest bound in brass on the lid of which is my name.”’

  Nancy glanced at her father. How glad she was that she had rescued it!

  “ ‘I further direct,’ ” the will stated, “that the money realized from these shall be divided into nine equal parts.’ ”

  At this, all the relatives sat up straight, and calculating looks were exchanged among the possible heirs.

  “ ‘One share shall again be divided into seven equal parts,’ ” Mr. Drew continued solemnly, and the now-bewildered relatives sat further forward on their chairs. “ ‘One of these shares, that is, one sixty-third of the entire estate, shall be given to Frank Jemitt and his wife Emma in consideration of those days a few years ago during which they served me honestly and well.’ ”

  For a moment all eyes turned to the couple. So Asa Sidney did suspect them of recent thefts!

  “ ‘One each of the remaining sub-shares, namely one sixty-third of the entire estate, shall be given to each of my relatives, namely Jacob Sidney, Peter Boonton, Anna Marvin, Bess Marvin, Louise Fayne, and George Fayne.

  “ ‘All the rest of the money, to wit, eight-ninths of the cash proceeds of the estate, shall be given to the girl known as Carol Wipple, who shall also inherit the portrait of my wife—’ ”

  A concerted growl of disapproval arose from the disappointed heirs as Nancy cried out in alarm:

  “Carol has fainted!”

  CHAPTER XII

  The Mysterious Attic

  “GET a glass of water!” Raymond Hill called to Frank Jemitt, who did not look as angered and disappointed as Asa Sidney’s relatives.

  Jemitt hurried to the kitchen and returned with a tumbler of water. Nancy moistened a handkerchief and laid it on Carol’s forehead. Then she massaged the back of her neck and wrists.

  Carol stirred and sat up. “I—I must have fainted,” she murmured. “Oh, Nancy, there you are. Please don’t go away.”

  No one else offered to help; they sat still and waited. But finally Jacob Sidney exclaimed, “We’ll fight this out in court!”