The Bungalow Mystery

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The Bungalow Mystery Page 5

by Carolyn Keene


  “I know one way to find out,” said Nancy with determination. She reminded Hannah of the young couple, Cathy and Jim Donnell, who had helped move the fallen tree at Melrose Lake.

  “I’ll ask them if they’ve seen Laura or the Aborns,” Nancy explained.

  Hannah sighed. “You’re just like your father,” she said, “and he certainly is astute. But I’m worried that you’re becoming involved in another complicated mystery.”

  Nancy tweaked Hannah’s cheek. “The more there are, the better I like them!”

  The housekeeper smiled. She said that while Nancy was calling Cathy and Jim she would put lunch on the table.

  “Fine. I’ll help you in a moment.”

  As Hannah hobbled to the kitchen, Nancy got the Donnells’ number and dialed it. After two rings a girl’s voice said, “Hello!”

  “Cathy?” Nancy inquired.

  “Yes.”

  Nancy gave her name. “Do you remember me?” she asked.

  “Of course,” said Cathy. “My family and I were talking about you just a short while ago. Jim and I told them about the Aborns’ being home and we all went over this morning to say hello and meet Laura. But the house was closed. Nobody’s staying there.”

  “Oh!” said Nancy, disappointed. She explained that this was her reason for calling, and told of the Aborns’ telephone having been disconnected.

  Cathy already knew this, and added, “Dad found a note on the back porch telling the milk-man to discontinue deliveries until further notice.”

  “Cathy, does Mr. Aborn own a foreign make of car?” Nancy queried.

  “Why, no,” Cathy replied. She added that her parents thought the Aborns might have planned suddenly to take a short trip somewhere. “I’m sure that we’ll hear from them in a few days. If we do, I’ll call you, Nancy.”

  “Fine,” said the young detective. “Remember me to Jim. Good-by.”

  Deeply troubled, Nancy went to the kitchen and told Hannah what Cathy had said.

  “Chances are,” said the housekeeper, “the call you received this morning was not from Laura at all. You know a lot of people, dear.”

  Nancy replied that usually when someone had to break a telephone conversation in an abrupt manner the person called back as soon as possible to explain what had happened.

  “That’s true,” Hannah admitted. “It’s very strange.”

  After lunch Hannah said she was going next door to visit with Mrs. Gleason. Nancy helped her to the neighbor’s front porch. Then Nancy backed her convertible from the garage and headed for Mr. Drew’s downtown office.

  “I’ll report my progress so far regarding his suspects.”

  Nancy parked the car in a lot adjoining a large building where lawyers, doctors, and other professional people had offices. Mr. Drew’s suite was on the fifth floor. A few minutes later Nancy greeted her father’s secretary, Miss Hanson.

  “My, how pretty you look, Nancy!” said the efficient young woman, who had been with Carson Drew for the past five years.

  “Thank you.” Nancy blushed a trifle. “You look lovely yourself.”

  When the lawyer learned that his daughter had arrived, Carson Drew at once asked Nancy to come into his office.

  “I can see by the gleam in your eyes, Nancy, that you have some information for me.”

  Nancy told him of her interview with Mrs. Farley. “In my opinion, she’s a woman of very fine character.” Then Nancy mentioned the invitation to the barbecue party at Mr. Herbert Brown’s home.

  Mr. Drew raised his eyes and chuckled. “Better than I expected.”

  “My main reason for coming was to tell you something else,” Nancy said.

  She quickly reviewed the latest developments in the Laura Pendleton case. Mr. Drew listened quietly. Finally he said:

  “There’s something odd about all this. Nancy, I must leave River Heights on the three-o’clock plane this afternoon for Cincinnati, but I’ll be home by Sunday. Why don’t we plan to drive to the Aborns’ home later that afternoon and see for ourselves what the story is? They may have returned by then.”

  “That’s a grand idea!” Nancy exclaimed. Then, knowing that he was busy, she kissed her father good-by and wished him a successful trip.

  “I’ll call you every night at eight!” Mr. Drew promised, and Nancy left the office.

  On the way down in the elevator, Nancy asked Hank, the operator, if he knew where Hilo Street was located. Mrs. John Stewart, the third suspect, lived in an apartment at this address.

  “I know the general area,” Nancy added. “It’s about three miles from here on the eastern side of the city.”

  “That’s right,” Hank said. “It’s a classy neighborhood! All high-priced apartment buildings. I believe Hilo Street runs off East Main.”

  Nancy thanked him, then went to her convertible. She drove carefully through the city traffic and finally reached Hilo Street. Mrs. Stewart’s apartment house was Number 76.

  Nancy scanned the buildings and found that this one was the largest on the street. It was ultramodern in design and about twenty stories high. After parking her car, she smoothed her hair and got out.

  A red-coated doorman nodded pleasantly to the young detective as she entered the building a minute later. Nancy checked the directory and saw that Mrs. Stewart was in Apartment Three on the fourth floor. She rang the elevator button.

  Almost instantly, aluminum doors slid open noiselessly, and Nancy stepped inside the carpeted elevator. It was self-operated, and Nancy pushed the fourth-floor control.

  Her heart was pounding with excitement. Would Mrs. Stewart prove to be a link in the embezzlement case? Nancy hoped to find a clue this time!

  When the elevator stopped at the fourth floor, Nancy got out and easily located Apartment Three. She pressed the doorbell.

  A trim-looking maid, a rather harassed expression on her pretty face, opened the door immediately. “Oh, hello!” she said. “You must be the walker.”

  “Why, no—” Nancy began, but before she could explain, the maid went into the living room, leaving the door ajar.

  As Nancy, speechless, glanced hastily into the apartment beyond, the maid reappeared. She was leading a pair of frisky black-and-white French poodles by a gold-linked leash.

  “Here!” she said abruptly, thrusting the leash into Nancy’s hand. “Their names are Irene and Frederika. Mrs. Stewart says to take them for a nice, long walk!”

  Before Nancy could utter a word, the door was closed with an emphatic bang!

  CHAPTER VIII

  The Frightened Runaway

  NANCY DREW, dog tender! This was a new title, the young detective thought. As she burst into laughter, the two poodles began to yap excitedly and dance around in little circles.

  “Hello, girls,” Nancy said to them, and bent down to pat the friendly animals. She then rang the doorbell with determination.

  This time the door was opened by a tremendously stout woman whose chubby face was framed by a mass of fuzzy brown curls.

  “Yes?” she inquired coyly. “Have you had some trouble with the babies? I told Collette to give you explicit instructions.”

  Nancy smothered a giggle. “Are you Mrs. Stewart?” she asked briskly.

  “Of course,” the woman said impatiently.

  Nancy introduced herself and said that a mistake had been made. She was not the dog walker, but had come to solicit Mrs. Stewart’s aid for the River Heights Youth Center.

  “Oh dear!” Mrs. Stewart blushed, obviously flustered. “Collette’s made a mistake. I’m sorry.” She jerked the leash from Nancy and gave the poodles a loving glance. “Mama will give you both cookies while we wait for your real walker.”

  Nancy cleared her throat and Mrs. Stewart’s glance returned to the caller. “Oh, yes—your project. I’m afraid that we’ll have to discuss it another time. I’m having an afternoon musicale featuring the most divine violinist—Professor Le Bojo. He is expected any moment—”

  “I understand,”
Nancy nodded. “Perhaps I can return later when Mr. Stewart is home?”

  “He left today for a fishing trip in Maine,” Mrs. Stewart replied. She added somewhat angrily, “I simply don’t understand Gerald—he doesn’t appreciate our home life here with the children!” Her glance swept toward the poodles.

  Nancy managed to keep a straight face, said good-by to Mrs. Stewart, and left. When she returned to her car Nancy reached the conclusion that Mrs. Stewart was hardly the type to plan a bank swindle!

  “Her poor husband,” Nancy thought with a laugh.

  There was only one more name for Nancy to check today—Mr. Stephen Dowd. She drove out Hilo Street and headed across the city. The man’s address was in a business zone which was partly residential, although most of the homes were two-family dwellings.

  After a little difficulty, Nancy found the house she sought—a brown duplex situated between a gasoline station and a tailor shop. She parked and went up the walk. Mr. Dowd’s half of the house was on the right-hand side.

  The young sleuth rang the bell and waited. No answer. She pushed the button again. Still no one came to the door.

  “Maybe I can find out something from his next-door neighbor,” Nancy thought hopefully.

  As she was about to ring the bell on the left, the door was opened by a young woman, a shopping bag in her hand. She appeared startled to see Nancy.

  The young sleuth smiled pleasantly. “I came to call on Mr. Dowd,” she explained. “He’s probably at work?”

  “No. Mr. and Mrs. Dowd are both away now—on tour with a show, they said. They board here. I’m Mrs. Wyman.”

  “Are they entertainers?” Nancy inquired with interest, and explained about the youth center.

  Mrs. Wyman said the couple were actors, but she did not know what parts they played. “Since moving here two months ago, they’ve been away a great deal of the time.”

  Nancy thanked Mrs. Wyman and said she would call again. “They sound like the type of people I’m looking for to help amuse the children,” she explained.

  Nancy drove away, but told herself they would bear further investigation. It seemed unnatural that they would not have told what parts they were playing.

  Nancy felt a little discouraged about her findings so far. She realized that she could do nothing else until she met Herbert Brown the next afternoon.

  “I think I’ll go home, get my bathing suit, and head for the club,” she decided. The day was becoming very warm.

  Fifteen minutes later Nancy parked in her driveway. As she was about to insert her key in the front lock, the door was opened from inside.

  Laura Pendleton, wan and disheveled, stared at the young detective!

  “Laura!” Nancy gasped. She could hardly believe her eyes.

  “Hello, Nancy,” her friend said, as Hannah Gruen came into view, walking slowly on her crutches.

  “Come in, Nancy,” the housekeeper invited urgently. “Laura’s been waiting for you over an hour. She’s terribly upset—”

  The three went into the living room and Nancy sat down on the couch beside the visitor. Before Nancy could ask why she was in River Heights, Laura burst into tears.

  “Oh, I’m so unhappy!” she sobbed. “That’s why I ran away!”

  Nancy gently stroked Laura’s hair and waited for the hysterical girl to calm down. Then she said quietly, “Tell me everything that has happened since I saw you last.”

  Slowly Laura started to speak. After Nancy and Helen had left the hotel suite, Mr. Aborn said he had to attend to some business for a short while. He had left the hotel. Meanwhile, Laura and Mrs. Aborn had checked out and waited for the guardian in his blue sedan, which was parked in the hotel lot.

  “Where did Mr. Aborn go?” asked Nancy.

  “I don’t know, but when he met us a short while later he was carrying a brief case. As we started toward Melrose Lake, Mrs. Aborn asked what I had done with Mother’s jewelry. When I said it was in my handbag she asked me to give it to her for safekeeping. I said I would when we got home.”

  “Then you did go directly to Melrose Lake?” Nancy questioned.

  “Yes,” Laura replied. She hesitated, then went on with her story. “The Aborns showed me to my room and I started to unpack.

  “I found I needed more hangers,” the girl went on, “but when I went to the door to ask Mrs. Aborn for them, I discovered it was locked on the outside.”

  “Locked!” Hannah gasped and Nancy was shocked.

  Laura nodded. “I was so frightened,” she said, “that at first I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard voices coming from the Aborns’ room. I lay down on the floor so I could hear them better and listened.

  “Marian Aborn said, ‘What did you lock her in for—she doesn’t know anything!’ and my guardian replied, ‘Not yet, but she’s a smart kid. See if you can gain her confidence and get hold of the jewels.’ ”

  As Laura paused, a terrible thought came to Nancy. Were the Aborns thieves? But they could not be, she argued, if Marie Pendleton had trusted the couple to take care of her daughter. “And besides, I gather the Donnells think they are nice people.” Aloud she asked, “What happened next?”

  “I thought I must have heard them wrong,” the auburn-haired girl said slowly, “but I suddenly remembered Mother telling me always to take good care of her jewelry. So I took it from my handbag and hid it underneath the mattress of the bed.

  “Just as I finished doing this, the door to my room opened. Mrs. Aborn stood there, looking very friendly. She offered to help unpack my bags, and admired several dresses as I hung them in the closet—”

  “And then—” Nancy pressed.

  Laura said that she and Mrs. Aborn had prepared a tasty dinner, then she and the couple had watched television for a while.

  “Just before we went upstairs to bed, Mrs. Aborn said it would be a good idea for me to put my mother’s jewels in the wall safe in the living room. I agreed and said that I would give them to her in the morning.”

  “What was Mrs. Aborn’s reaction to this?” Hannah asked.

  “Oh, both she and her husband became very angry. They said that apparently I didn’t trust them to take care of a few insignificant gems, while they in turn had the responsibility of caring for a penniless orphan! Oh, Nancy, I thought Mother had a lot of money! Mrs. Aborn yelled at me and said I was ungrateful and a big burden to them. They were sorry they had ever agreed to take met

  “I can’t explain how I felt,” Laura went on, her hands shaking with nervousness. “I was just numb. Then I burst into tears and rushed to my room.”

  Laura said that finally she had fallen asleep and awakened this morning to find she was again locked in.

  “At eight o’clock Mrs. Aborn opened the door, acting very friendly, and said breakfast was ready in the kitchen.”

  “Was anything said about last night?” Nancy asked.

  Laura said no, that the Aborns had acted as though nothing had happened. “But a strange thing occurred after breakfast,” Laura stated. “Mr. Aborn took a small package from the refrigerator and left the house, saying he would be back later. Before he went he said I would be sorry if I didn’t co-operate with them!”

  “I presume he meant to hand over the jewels,” Hannah guessed, and Laura nodded.

  “I knew then that I had to leave their house and also get word to Nancy. While Mrs. Aborn was emptying the rubbish I tried to use the phone, but she caught me and twisted my arm, then hung up the receiver!”

  “You see, I was right, Hannah!” Nancy exclaimed, and told Laura her theory about the call.

  “Were you locked up again?” Hannah asked.

  Laura explained that before Mrs. Aborn could do this she had run past her and barricaded herself inside the bedroom, not wanting the jewels to be unguarded. At that moment the doorbell had rung. Apparently Mrs. Aborn had not answered it, for the woman had kept quiet for a long while on the first floor.

  “So I quickly took my handbag and the jewels, and climbed
down a trellis outside my window,” Laura said. “Once I was on the detour I was lucky enough to get a ride to the highway and there I caught a bus to River Heights. I took a taxi to your house.”

  As Laura sat back with an exhausted sigh, Hannah stood up. “You’re worn out, dear,” the housekeeper said. “I’m going to get you a cup of hot tea and you’re not to say another word until you’ve drunk it!”

  With that, she bustled out of the room and returned shortly with a small tray on which was a cup of hot tea and a piece of toast. By the time Laura had finished the snack, color had returned to her cheeks and she looked more relaxed.

  “I wonder if we should report your experience to the police,” Nancy mused.

  “What could we tell them?” Laura quavered.

  “That’s the point,” Nancy continued. “We could tell them that the Aborns tried to get your jewels, but of course they would deny it all. It would be their word against yours.”

  “And I don’t have definite proof!” Laura said dejectedly.

  Nancy patted the girl’s hand. “We’ll do everything we can to help you, Laura. You’ve really had a terrible experience, you poor girl.”

  “Nancy, you’re a real friend,” Laura said. Tears came into her eyes. “Mr. Aborn is my legal guardian—I saw the papers—but what am I going to do?”

  “You’ll stay with us,” Hannah said quickly, “and when Mr. Drew comes home he’ll know how to handle the situation.”

  Nancy was quiet, but she was doing a lot of figuring. Something mysterious was going on at Melrose Lake. She intended to find out for herself what it was.

  CHAPTER IX

  A Valuable Inheritance

  IF IT had been possible Nancy would have started out for Melrose Lake at once, but she felt that Laura needed her. Besides, there was a job to do for her father at the Browns’ barbecue next day.

  “Helping Dad comes first,” Nancy decided.

  Laura spoke again of her mother’s affairs. “She used to say I’d always be financially independent if anything happened to her.”

 

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