Mystery of the Tolling Bell

by Carolyn G. Keene

  “No, and I never did hear his name, nor what became of the couple. But I know her Ma was heartbroken, and her Pa took it kind of hard, too. They never mixed with other folks after that.”

  “What a shame!” Bess commented.

  As the girls rose to leave, the woman timidly inquired if any progress had been made in tracing Monsieur Pappier, the Mon Coeur stock swindler.

  Nancy assured her that Mr. Drew was working on the case. “We are hoping that both he and Madame will be caught within the next few days,” she added.

  “I hope,” said Mother Mathilda, “that he’s sent to jail for at least twenty years! And that she’s punished, tool Will I get my money back, do you think, or will the scamps have spent it?”

  “No one can tell that until the swindlers are caught. But let’s hope you’ll recover a good part of it.”

  Nancy’s words cheered the woman. Grateful to the girls for taking so much interest in her troubled affairs, she insisted upon presenting each of them with four delicately perfumed candles.

  “I used good perfume this time, and the entire batch turned out perfectly,” she declared proudly.

  A little later, at the Chantrey home, Nancy learned from June Barber that during her absence she had received a telephone call from Yorktown. Knowing that it was from her father, she stayed indoors for the next hour, and as she had expected, he telephoned her again.

  “Nancy, I’ve been trying to get you,” he began in an excited voice. “Can you come to Yorktown right away?”

  “Certainly, Dad,” she replied.

  “Good!” the lawyer declared. “The police are holding a woman who may be the seller of Mon Coeur perfume. You’re needed to identify her.”

  “I’ll come as fast as I can,” Nancy promised.

  She explained the purpose of her trip to George and Bess. Then she headed her convertible toward Yorktown, maintaining the maximum speed allowed. When Nancy reached the town, she went directly to police headquarters.

  As she entered the building the young detective saw her father talking to the desk sergeant. Seeing her, Mr. Drew rushed across the room.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Nancy!” he exclaimed. “If you’re able to identify the prisoner we may crack the case!”

  “Where is the woman, Dad?”

  “She’s in a cell now. But you’ll have to select her from a lineup. Think you can do it?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “The woman will not be wearing a costume, which may confuse you,” Mr. Drew warned. “You’ll be given only one chance to identify her. If you fail, she’ll be released.”

  “If I’ve ever seen the woman before, I’ll recognize her,” Nancy said quietly. “Tell the police I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER XVIII

  The Hidden Door

  As Nancy, her father, and two police officers stood behind a screen, other policemen escorted five women across a small stage which was brilliantly lighted.

  All were heavy-set, dark-complexioned, and wore street clothing. Blinking under the bright lights, they stared straight ahead.

  Nancy gazed at each woman in turn. Then, without the slightest hesitation, she said, “The one in the center is the perfume seller. She is known to me only as Madame.”

  “Good!” Mr. Drew praised her. “That makes the identification positive.”

  After the prisoner had been led away, he told Nancy he previously had identified the same woman as the one who had accompanied him in the taxi to Fisher’s Cove.

  “The woman who drugged you!” Nancy cried out.

  “I’m convinced of it. We’ll place charges against her.”

  Nancy learned that Madame, who had been posing as a Spanish woman while in Yorktown, had been caught by the police as she sought to sell Sweet Chimes perfume to the proprietor of a beauty salon. She had denied knowing Mr. Drew or having anything to do with the Mon Coeur firm.

  “She refuses to tell us anything about her confederates,” the lawyer added. “Fortunately, a number of names and addresses were found in her pocketbook when it was searched. The police are checking them now.”

  As Nancy and her father stepped into the corridor, they came face to face with Madame, who was being taken to her cell by two policewomen. Seeing the girl, she suddenly halted and glared at her.

  “Your meddling did it!” she cried furiously. “You’re responsible for my being held here! But just wait until I get free! Just wait!”

  Nancy made no reply, and the woman, still muttering threats, was led away.

  “Madame speaks English without an accent,” Mr. Drew observed. “The truth is, she hasn’t a drop of foreign blood. She was born in New York City and her name is Martha Stott.”

  “Monsieur Pappier hasn’t been found yet?”

  “No, but the police are hard on his trail. They think he’s in hiding around here, but I can’t stay in Candleton to await his capture. I must fly back to River Heights tomorrow. Have an important case coming up in Federal Court.”

  “Oh!” murmured Nancy, unable to hide her disappointment. “Then that means we must leave the case entirely to the police.”

  “Not unless you’ve lost interest.” He smiled and winked.

  “Oh, Dad! You know how much solving the mystery means to me! I hope Tyrox and his pals are still around here.”

  “I hope so, too, Nancy. We’re not letting it be known that Madame has been caught. In fact, we planted information that she went back to the vicinity of Candleton. I believe she and Harry Tyrox work hand in glove, and he’ll trail her there. I’d like to have you stay at Candleton a few days longer to keep in touch with the situation.”

  The next morning Mr. Drew took an early plane for River Heights. He had barely left when Nancy asked Bess and George if they would go out to Bald Head Cliff with her again.

  “And have you go to sleep?” Bess exclaimed. “I should say not! Anyway I promised Mrs. Chantrey I’d help her unpack a lot of gifts which arrived yesterday.”

  Nancy finally prevailed upon George to make the trip by promising to drive to the cliff and to keep away from the cave.

  “But I thought you were supposed to stay around here to catch Harry Tyrox who is posing as Monsieur Pappier and Mr. James,” George reminded her friend.

  “I am. Dad and the police set a trap to get him back to Candleton to look up Madame, but they don’t think Tyrox will come out of hiding until nightfall. Meanwhile, I’d like to work on the mystery of the tolling bell.”

  “How do you expect to accomplish that on top of the cliff?”

  “I think there may be some connection between the ghost in the cave and the disappearance of the Maguires. Another thing. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the queer dream I had while lying on the cliff. I’ve decided one of those little elves may have been Grumper—the very short man A. H. told me about. A. H. said he thought Grumper was around Candleton.”

  “And you believe he’s the ghost and lives in the cave with a tolling bell and sends up fumes through the rocks!” Bess exclaimed. “Really, Nancy, I think this time you’re going pretty far out with your ideas!”

  “Maybe,” the young detective conceded.

  She refused to say more, but could not get the strange happenings on the cliff out of her mind.

  “The answer may lie in the Maguires’ deserted home,” she decided. “Anyway, I’m going to look for a clue there.”

  Nancy drove with George to the footpath which led to the cliff, and parked. The girls walked the rest of the way to the abandoned house, gazing about in all directions to find out if they had been seen. Apparently no one was nearby.

  “This place does have a spooky look,” George said uneasily as they went up to the door.

  Nancy pushed it open. Everything appeared exactly as she had seen it before. The moldy, cobwebby food was on the dining-room table, and a dust-covered chair stood at each end.

  “I never saw such thick cobwebs in all my life!” George muttered.

  A worn Bible on a marbl
e-topped table caught Nancy’s attention. She blew off the dust, then slowly turned the pages until she came to the family birth and death records.

  “This is what I had hoped to find!” she exclaimed, and pointed to a notation in ink. “Amy’s marriage is recorded here. Oh!”

  “Now what, Nancy?”

  “Amy married a man named Ferdinand Slocum! Why, Slocum is the name of the hotel clerk at Fisher’s Cove.”

  “But Slocum is a rather common name. He may not be the same person.”

  “True,” Nancy acknowledged. “Let’s see what else we can find.”

  The other records were of no interest to Nancy, but she did find among the pages of the Bible a letter which had been written by Amy to her parents. Obviously it was sent two years ago, soon after her runaway marriage. In the letter she disrespectfully referred to her mother and father as being far behind the times.

  “Maybe I don’t love Ferdie,” she had written flippantly, “but he’s a prominent hotelman and we’ll have a lot of fun together. Ferdie is a man of the world. He’s a big businessman, not like those boys at Candleton who only think about following the sea. I’ll write again after Ferdie and I are settled in our own hotel.”

  “I’ll bet they never were in any better one than the Fisher’s Cove Hotel,” George declared.

  “This note explains a number of things about the Maguires that baffled me,” Nancy said elatedly. “George, the pieces of our mystery puzzle are falling into place!”

  “Find anything else of interest?” George asked.

  “Yes, here’s something!” Nancy exclaimed an instant later.

  George, however, did not hear her, for she had made an important discovery of her own. “Nancy, look at these cobwebs on the table!” she exclaimed. “They’re not attached to anything!”

  “Not spun there, you mean?” Nancy stepped to the table to look. “You’re right. Someone is using this cottage as a hideout!”

  “But why would anyone go to so much work just to make this place look weird and abandoned?” George asked. “We ought to call the police!”

  “I agree with you.” Nancy spoke quietly as she stooped to pick up a torn sheet of paper from the floor.

  “What’s that?” her friend asked.

  “Mr. Hendrick’s torn note that was stolen from the Salsandee Shop!” Nancy replied.

  George started to cross the room to see the paper. But as she took a step, a masculine voice directly behind the two girls said coldly:

  “Don’t make a move, either of you! Put up your hands and march straight ahead!”

  At the command, Nancy did not turn around. As she slowly raised her hands, she saw in a dusty wall mirror the reflection of the dark-haired man who had given the terse order.

  He was a small person of elfin appearance. Instantly she recognized him as the man who came frequently to the Salsandee Shop—one of the elves in her dream.

  “Step lively and don’t try to turn around,” he snapped.

  Perhaps the man held a weapon, but Nancy could see none in the mirror. She decided to take a chance. Whirling around, she swung her arm directly into his startled face, causing him to lose his balance. As he stumbled backward, Nancy gave him a push, and over he went! From his hand fell a telescope!

  Instantly the two girls followed up their advantage. George plumped herself on the man’s chest and held his arms. Nancy searched him but found no weapon.

  “What was the idea of frightening us?” George demanded. “Are you the owner of this house?”

  “No, but you have no right here!”

  “Have you?” Nancy questioned.

  “Yes!” was the surprising answer.

  “Suppose you explain some things,” Nancy demanded. “Who put moldy food in the dishes and covered them with cobwebs to make it appear the house was abandoned?”

  The man looked frightened but refused to reply.

  Nancy asked, “Are you Grumper? And where’s your partner?”

  “No, I’m not Grumper, but that’s all you’re going to find out.”

  “You’re the one who helped carry me from the cliff!” Nancy accused him. “You and your friend put me to sleep with a gas which came up through crevices in the rocks!”

  “Let me up!” the little fellow cried out in anguish. “You’re crushing my chestl”

  Nancy and George tied the man’s ankles together with the belt from George’s slacks, then released their hold. They stood him against the wall and placed themselves between him and the outside door.

  “You haven’t answered my questions,” Nancy reminded the man as his shifty gaze darted about the room.

  The captive muttered some unintelligible words. He leaned against the wall, his hands behind him. Suddenly, from far away, seemingly deep beneath the house, a gong sounded.

  Nancy was startled. A sardonic grin spread over the elfin man’s face.

  “It was a signal!” Nancy thought instantly, observing his pleased expression. “He must have an accomplice somewhere!”

  Recalling how the little man had many times bought food at the Salsandee Shop for his wife, Nancy concluded that was who his accomplice might be. Then, too, there was the possibility no wife existed, and that actually the food had been carried to another man.

  “Perhaps he took it to that second elf I thought I saw in my dream!” she reasoned. “Grumper, I’ll bet. If he’s anywhere near here, then George and I had better be on our guard!”

  Nancy was convinced that the man before her had managed to sound the warning gong by pressing a button or pulling a hidden cord. Even at this moment his accomplice might be coming to his aid!

  The outside door behind Nancy creaked on its hinges. Frightened, she turned swiftly. A shadowy figure loomed large in the entrance.

  Nancy laughed aloud in relief. Ned Nickerson stood there!

  “Hello, Nancy, George. Are you girls safe?” he called anxiously. “Bess told me you came here. I was afraid—” He stopped short and stared at the girls’ prisoner. “Who—?”

  Briefly Nancy told him what had happened. The story was cut short by the sullen little man.

  “It’s a lie! You’ll not take me to the police!” he shouted. “I won’t leave this house!”

  The elflike figure flayed out with his fists, losing his balance. As he went down, Nancy said:

  “Ned, can you take this man to the State Police alone?”

  “With one hand!”

  “Then go as quickly as you can and come right back. George and I will stay here. I must find out more about this place!”

  Ned was reluctant to leave the two girls.

  “Don’t worry,” said Nancy. “If this man had an accomplice who heard that gong, he’d probably have been here by now.”

  “I guess that’s right,” said Ned.

  He agreed to drive the prisoner to Candleton and return immediately.

  “I’ll hurry,” he promised. “Don’t take any risks while I’m gone.”

  He bound the man’s hands behind him, released his feet, and ordered him to walk to the car. The captive had no choice as Ned prodded him from the rear.

  George felt somewhat uneasy when she and Nancy were alone. As Ned and the prisoner disappeared, she glanced nervously about her.

  “That gong—” she whispered to Nancy. “Don’t you think it means someone else is here? Perhaps in the basement?”

  “I’m sure our prisoner hoped so,” said Nancy. “Let’s see if we can find out how he sounded the warning.”

  She began to explore the wall inch by inch. The young detective found a thin cord, shorter than her little finger, not far from where the fishnets hung. As she pulled on it, a gong sounded far off.

  “That’s how he did it!” Nancy cried. “But where is the gong? It sounds so muffled—as if it were underground!”

  Apparently the house had no basement, for the girls could find no steps or passageway leading downward. The only door seemed to be the one through which they had entered.

&nbs
p; Puzzled, Nancy wondered how the elfin man had entered the house. Certainly not through the outside door. She recalled the sudden manner in which he had appeared and his terse order, “March straight ahead!”

  “Why, to march straight ahead would mean I’d have to walk through a solid wall,” she thought. “Or at least through those fishnets!”

  Nancy stared speculatively at the wall, almost completely covered with old cord nets to which dried seaweed still clung. On a sudden inspiration she tore away a portion of the covering.

  “What are you doing?” George asked curiously.

  “Look!”

  Nancy had uncovered a door hidden behind the netting. George stared in amazement.

  “The house must have a secret room or passageway!” she whispered. “We’ve found the entrancel”

  Cautiously Nancy twisted the knob, making no sound. The door was not locked. Slowly it swung inward on its hinges. Leading down were stone steps into utter darkness.

  CHAPTER XIX

  Trapped!

  “GEORGE,” Nancy whispered, “do you have my flashlight?”

  “Yes, but it’s too dangerous for us to investigate below. Let’s wait until Ned returns.”

  Nancy flashed on the light. It revealed that the stairs led down to a dark narrow tunnel beneath the old house.

  “I’ll go alone,” said Nancy. “You stay here and wait for Ned.”

  “Aren’t you taking too much of a chance?” George asked anxiously.

  “I’m sure our prisoner has an accomplice,” Nancy whispered. “And I’m also convinced there’s some tie-in between the Mon Coeur gang and the little man we found here. If that gong was a warning, someone may be downstairs destroying valuable evidence right now.”

  Disregarding George’s protests, Nancy beamed the light ahead and slowly descended the narrow steps.

  She moved deeper into the dark passageway below and her light could not be seen from the doorway. George waited with growing uneasiness. Finally she could not endure the suspense any longer.

  “Nancy!” she called softly. No answer. “I’m going down!” she determined.

  On the old buffet stood an antique candlestick with a half-burned candle. Beside it lay a packet of matches. George lighted the candle, and holding it before her, descended the steps.