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The Bungalow Mystery

Page 7

by Carolyn Keene


  CHAPTER XI

  Trapped!

  WHEN Hannah Gruen answered the telephone at the Drew residence, Nancy at once asked, “Is Laura all right?”

  “Why, of course,” Hannah answered in surprise. “She’s upstairs setting her hair for the party this afternoon.”

  “Well, tell her to be very careful,” Nancy urged. “Mr. Aborn has a detective looking for her!”

  “Oh dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Gruen. “And when will you be home, Nancy?”

  The young detective explained where she was and that she planned to stay at Melrose Lake and do more sleuthing.

  “I think I may be on the trail of something big.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you prowling around the Aborns’ home in the dead of night,” the housekeeper objected.

  “I’ll be careful,” Nancy promised. “I may even get home tonight.”

  “Well, all right,” Hannah consented reluctantly. “By the way, Nancy, I had a repairman fix the window in Mr. Drew’s study this morning, and also requested the police to keep a lookout for anything suspicious going on in this neighborhood.”

  “Wonderful!” Nancy said, feeling relieved. “Any more news?”

  “Everything’s quiet here,” Hannah reported. “And Laura seems happy.”

  Laura came to speak to Nancy and was alarmed when she heard that a detective was looking for her. “But I won’t go back to those awful Aborns! They can’t make me! If they try it, I’ll—I’ll run right to the police!”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Nancy. “By the way, I’d like to do some sleuthing at the Aborn house. I may want to get inside without ringing the bell.” The young sleuth chuckled. “Since it’s now your house too, may I have permission to go in and look around?”

  “You certainly may,” said Laura with a giggle. “If no doors are unlocked, try my bedroom window. I left it open a crack and there’s a sturdy rose trellis right alongside it.”

  “Terrific!” said Nancy elatedly.

  After she completed the call, Nancy went to the hotel coffee shop for a hearty lunch. Since it was now almost one thirty, the room was empty.

  After eating, Nancy put on her bathing suit and wandered down to the beach. A boy in attendance gave her a towel and Nancy stretched out on the sand, unaware of the steadfast glance of a couple hidden behind a large green-and-white striped umbrella not far away. They nodded to each other, then when Nancy was not looking, they quickly left the beach.

  “Guess we’re safe,” the woman muttered. “She’s here to stay and have a good time.”

  As the strong rays of the sun beat down on the unsuspecting girl, she rehearsed her plan for the evening. When it was dark she would visit both Jacob Aborn’s home and also the shack in the woods, if time permitted.

  “I’ll miss Dad’s call tonight,” Nancy reflected.

  Standing up half an hour later, Nancy put on her bathing cap and walked to the water. She stuck her toe in. The lake water felt icy cold, and Nancy noticed that there were more people on the beach than in swimming. Nevertheless, she waded out to where it was deep enough to make a surface dive and plunged in. Once she was wet, the water was invigorating.

  After swimming for a while, Nancy came back to her beach towel and dried off. Then she returned to her room, showered, and slept for two hours, realizing that the rest would give her more endurance for the evening ahead.

  Awakening at six o’clock, Nancy put on the simple black cotton dress from her suitcase and pumps. After brushing her hair until it snapped with electricity, she was ready for supper.

  “What will it be this evening, miss?” asked the friendly waitress.

  Nancy selected steak, a baked potato, and tossed salad, then sat back to enjoy the soft dinner music playing in the background. The orchestra was in an adjoining lounge.

  Nearby diners regarded the lone girl with interest, for the prospect of the daring adventure had brought a becoming flush to her cheeks.

  “If I’m wrong in suspecting Jacob Aborn of being dishonest,” thought Nancy, “then I guess I’d better give up sleuthing!”

  Upon leaving the dining room an hour later, she lingered on the porch for a few minutes, watching couples dance. As a red-haired young man began to walk toward Nancy with an invitation in his eyes for her to dance, she hastily went to her room.

  Chuckling to herself, Nancy said aloud, “Romance and detective work won’t mix tonight!” Then she changed to walking shoes, sweater, and skirt.

  The moment it became dark enough for her purpose, Nancy left the hotel in her car. As she drew near the Aborns’ lane a short while later, she turned the convertible off the road and ran it into a clump of bushes where it would not be seen.

  Switching off the engine and locking the doors, Nancy started down the lane leading to the house, holding her flashlight securely. She found the windows of the house dark.

  “The Aborns are out, I guess,” she told herself. “Well, that means I can do some looking around.”

  Circling the structure cautiously, Nancy noted that the second-floor wing, where the bedrooms apparently were located, was in the back. She found the trellis easily.

  “I’ll try the doors first,” Nancy decided, and darted to the front. Gently turning the handle, she found the door locked.

  An investigation of two other doors revealed that they, too, were securely fastened.

  “I guess I’ll have to climb after all,” Nancy said to herself.

  As quietly as possible, she climbed the trellis. It wobbled and creaked a little but did not give way. When Nancy reached the window ledge of Laura’s bedroom, she found to her delight that the window raised easily. She crawled through and switched on her flashlight.

  As Nancy tiptoed across the room, which was in disorder, she heard a noise. Halting, she listened. A car was approaching the house. Looking out the window she could barely make out the figures of a man and a woman who alighted. Who were they and what should Nancy do?

  “I’ll stay right here,” she determined.

  As Nancy waited tensely she realized someone was walking up the stairs. Quickly Nancy closed the window without a sound. As she looked around for a hiding place she saw a closet, and darted inside it, switching off her flashlight. Crouched in a far corner behind some of Laura’s dresses, Nancy scarcely dared to breathe.

  The door to the room was opened a moment later and the boudoir lamps switched on. Cautiously Nancy peered out through the keyhole in the closet door. She saw Jacob Aborn!

  The man went directly to Laura’s dressing table. Apparently he had not heard Nancy, for he did not glance toward the closet.

  Ruthlessly he jerked out drawers from the dressing table and emptied their contents upon the bed. As he surveyed the assortment of tiny bottles, boxes, and other paraphernalia, Laura’s guardian gave a disgusted grunt.

  “Last place to look!” he said, as if addressing someone out in the hall, probably his wife. “Guess Laura really took the jewels with her. Well, I’ll soon have them back!”

  Nancy’s heart leaped. There was no longer any doubt in her mind as to the character of this man. She was now certain that his sole interest in Laura was to get possession of her property! Only the girl’s opportune escape from the house had prevented him from seizing the valuable jewelry collection!

  “Laura’s mother couldn’t have known his true character, or she wouldn’t have entrusted her daughter to Aborn’s care,” Nancy pondered.

  Her thoughts came to an abrupt end as the man moved toward the closet. Fearfully, Nancy ducked down behind Laura’s dresses again and fervently hoped that she would not be discovered.

  Suddenly, as Nancy’s legs began to grow cramped, the closet door was jerked violently open. Jacob Aborn looked in!

  CHAPTER XII

  A Black Abyss

  As JACOB ABORN stared into the closet where Nancy was hiding, the girl detective wished wildly that she were invisible. There was no telling what harm the man might inflict if he saw her!
r />   “He has such a violent temper,” Nancy realized.

  But Aborn’s glance did not stray to the dress section. Instead, he reached up for two large suitcases which were on a shelf above the clothes. He set them on the floor outside and shut the closet door.

  Beads of perspiration trickled down Nancy’s neck as she relaxed. Presently she heard the man leave the room and shut the hall door with a loud bang.

  Nancy waited a moment, then left her hiding place. “I suppose I’d better leave while I can,” she advised herself.

  But running away from a chance to pick up a clue was not in Nancy’s nature. As she heard Laura’s guardian descending the stairs to the first floor, she became aware of a woman’s voice somewhere below. Nancy decided, “I’ll stay and see what’s going on.”

  Before leaving Laura’s bedroom she gave it a final searching look and shook her head, puzzled. The room was one which Nancy would be happy to call her own. The feminine furnishings and good colonial pieces showed evidence of discerning taste. They did not fit the Aborns’ character. Perhaps an interior decorator had planned it!

  “One could believe from this room that the Aborns really wanted Laura,” Nancy pondered.

  It just did not make sense. Many criminals, Nancy knew, laid the groundwork to lull any suspicion on the part of their victim, then cornered him. But Laura had not even been settled in her new home when the Aborns had begun to persecute her.

  Soundlessly Nancy opened the bedroom door, and keeping her flashlight low to the floor, tiptoed along the carpeted hall. Step by step, she edged down the stairway to the floor below. Here there was no sign of activity but Nancy saw a light shining through louvered doors to her left.

  “That’s probably the kitchen. The Aborns are in there,” she thought.

  A moment later the woman said, “Here’s the combination. I’ll pack this stuff while you open the safe.”

  Quickly Nancy stole into the living room and hastily ducked out of sight behind a large sofa. She was just in time. One of the louvered doors opened and Laura’s guardian came into the living room carrying a suitcase. He flicked on a table lamp.

  Near it hung the small oil painting of a ship. Aborn lifted it from the wall and set the picture against a chair.

  Nancy’s eyes widened as she saw that the painting had concealed a wall safe. Aborn deftly twirled the dial to the left, then several notches to the right, and back to the left again. He swung the safe door open.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, the man removed several packages of bank notes and some papers which looked like stock certificates. Mr. Aborn chortled and called to his wife:

  “When we get the rest of these cashed, you and I will be set for life—thanks to Laura and a few others.”

  Nancy, startled, almost gave herself away. So Laura did have a sizable inheritance other than the jewelry! But how had the securities reached the safe? Had Aborn brought them here or was he stealing them from someone else? Nancy felt more confused by the moment.

  As her thoughts raced, Aborn replaced the loose papers in the safe and closed it. Then he put the money and securities into the suitcase. Giving a tired yawn, he switched off the lamp and left the room.

  “Guess I’ll turn in,” he called to his wife. “Got to be up early tomorrow and get Fred. You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Marian Aborn came from the kitchen carrying the other bag. Together the couple ascended the stairs. Nancy heard a bedroom door above close.

  “Now I must get the police,” the girl detective thought.

  She paused for several seconds, after coming from behind the couch, to stretch her cramped limbs. “I’d better go out the front door,” she decided. “The bedrooms don’t overlook that.”

  Noiselessly Nancy slipped outside and started for her hidden car. Then a temptation came to her. “Why don’t I investigate that shack in the woods first? I may have an even bigger story to tell the police! I’ll do it!”

  Taking a deep breath of air, Nancy hurried toward the path leading to the dilapidated building. Had she been right about having heard someone inside? Was he a friend or an enemy of Aborn’s? Were the packages being carried there and what did they contain? Loot?

  “Maybe just food,” Nancy concluded. “But being taken to whom?”

  Beaming her flashlight on the ground, the young detective soon picked up the trail she had taken earlier in the day. It was quiet and eerie as she stumbled along the uneven ground. Nancy became apprehensive once or twice as she heard scuffling noises of forest creatures in the underbrush, but went on.

  “I wish Dad were here now,” she thought fervently.

  Nancy reached the shack without mishap and paused in front of it. A sixth sense seemed to tell her there was someone inside who needed help. No person would stay in such a place unless forced to.

  “This is no time for me to hesitate,” she told herself.

  As Nancy moved toward the rear of the tumble-down building, she glanced at her flashlight and was alarmed to see that it was beginning to grow dim.

  “Just my luck when I need it the most!”

  In an attempt to save the battery, Nancy switched off the light. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she moved toward the window she had looked through earlier that day. Appraising it, the young sleuth realized that the window ledge was too high from the ground for her to climb through unassisted, even when standing on the box.

  Undaunted, she began to examine the other windows. On the south side of the shack she found one which opened from the rickety porch. It was boarded up.

  “This is my entry,” Nancy determined.

  She began searching the yard for something with which to pry off the boards, and finally found a stout stick. Nancy began wedging it between the boards with all her might.

  The first board offered stubborn resistance. Then, with a groan and a squeak, it gave way. The remaining boards were removed with less difficulty.

  To Nancy’s joy, the window was unlocked! Pushing it up, she beamed her flashlight inside. The room beyond was bare and quiet as a tomb.

  “Well, here comes Nancy Drew, housebreaker and spy!” Nancy thought with amused determination. “It’s certain now no one lives here.”

  When she was halfway through the window the young sleuth hesitated without knowing just why. She glanced back over her shoulder. A queer sensation made Nancy quiver as she turned searching eyes toward the woods.

  “How silly!” she scolded herself. “No one’s there. It’s just nerves.”

  Bravely Nancy swung herself through the window. Hastily she moved toward an adjoining room, noting that her flashlight was growing dimmer. Soon she would be left in total darkness! She must hurry!

  Her light revealed a small room, also empty, its walls and floor dusty from long lack of any occupant’s care. Nancy was disappointed to find nothing of interest.

  “I’d better leave and drive to police headquarters,” she thought.

  Just then Nancy’s flashlight revealed a trap door in the floor. Quickly she moved over toward it. But she had taken only a few steps when an unusual sound arrested her attention. Had she heard a board creak behind her, or was it a night sound from the woods?

  After hesitating a second, Nancy again started for the trap door. As she reached down to grasp the ring in it, her body became tense.

  This time there was no mistake. She had heard a peculiar sound which seemed to come from beneath the floor.

  “It sounded like a groan!” Nancy decided. She felt cold all over.

  Someone was imprisoned in the cellar! Who? And why?

  As Nancy tugged at the ring, another idea came to her. This might be a trap laid for her!

  “Oh, what should I do?” she thought, hesitating. There was still time to run away from danger.

  But the fear that some person was in distress gave her the courage to open the trap door. As it swung upward, Nancy saw before her a flight of stone steps, leading down into complete darkness. A gust of d
amp, musty air struck her in the face and momentarily repulsed her.

  Nancy glanced nervously at her flashlight. The battery could not last much longer. Already the light was so weak that she could barely see the steps in front of her. Did she dare investigate the cellar?

  “It won’t take long,” she thought.

  She descended the steps and came to a landing. The rest of the stairway went toward the left. Nancy peered anxiously into the black abyss below.

  To her horror, she saw a man stretched out full length on a bench. His face was turned upward and Nancy caught a full glimpse of the countenance.

  He was Jacob Aborn!

  CHAPTER XIII

  An Actor’s Ruse

  SPELLBOUND, Nancy stood like a stone image, gazing down into the face of Jacob Aborn. How had the man reached the bungalow ahead of her? What was he doing sleeping in the musty cellar of the old shack?

  As these thoughts flashed through Nancy’s mind, the beam of her flashlight flickered again. Then it went out, leaving her in total darkness,

  Sheer panic took possession of the girl detective. Something very strange was going on! She must not be caught in a trap!

  Turning, she gave a low cry and stumbled up the stairway and toward the window through which she had entered. Her flight was abruptly checked as she banged one foot on something metallic that moved ahead of her. In a second she smelled kerosene.

  “A lantern!” she decided.

  The thought of a light gave her hope. She felt around and discovered an old-time oil lantern,

  Collecting her wits, she stopped and listened for any sounds of pursuit. There were none. The shack appeared as deserted and silent as before.

  “I’m sure that was Jacob Aborn down in the cellar,” Nancy thought in perplexity. “I didn’t imagine it. But how did he get here so fast? After I left his house I didn’t waste much time.”

  Suddenly an amazing thought came to Nancy. Was the man she had seen by chance a brother, even a twin, of Jacob Aborn? He might be honest and Jacob had found him in the way!

 

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