The Haunted Carousel

by Carolyn Keene

  “This man she met,” Nancy interrupted, “can you describe him?”

  “Yeah, he was kind of a skinny old guy . . . had a mustache and glasses and a hook nose . . . oh, and I remember he had a cane.”

  “Please go on.”

  “Well, next time I looked over that way, the lady had her elbows on the table, and she was holding her head in her hands. She looked real

  sick.”

  Nancy exchanged a startled glance with Ned, who asked the waitress, “Sick enough to need medical attention?”

  “She sure looked that way to me. The old guy threw some bills on the table, and they left. She was so wobbly he had to help her walk.”

  “Did anyone send for an ambulance?” Nancy inquired.

  “No, I could see right out through the glass. A big, fat guy with long, blond hair and a beard came up and offered to help. He was holding the lady on one side. I ran out to give the old man his change and ask if I could call a doctor.” “What did he say?”

  “He said he was a doctor himself, and he’d take her out for some fresh air.” The waitress shrugged. “So they walked out of the building, and that’s the last I saw of them. How come you’re looking for her, dear? Was the lady a relative of yours?”

  “No, just a—a friend. But she never returned to her hotel, so it’s quite worrisome.”

  The waitress clucked sympathetically. Nancy thanked her for the information and went back out to the parking lot with Ned.

  “I hate to say this, Nancy, but it sounds like Mrs. Harrod was drugged,” Ned commented.

  “That’s just what I’m afraid of. That man she met could easily have slipped something into her coffee.” Nancy shaded her eyes as she gazed at the row of parked cars. “Ned, Rose

  Harrod’s car was a silver two-door sedan—I don’t know what make, but I’m sure I’ll recognize it. Let’s see if it’s still in the lot.”

  After several minutes of searching, Nancy sighed. “Wow, I never realized it before, but silver has got to to be the most popular car color!”

  “Let’s talk to the parking lot attendant,” Ned suggested.

  “Yes, maybe he’ll remember,” Nancy said. “Let’s just hope he was on duty this time yesterday.”

  The attendant was reading a newspaper in his booth. He was a chubby man about fifty years old, and was a retired policeman. When Nancy asked him about Mrs. Harrod, he immediately recalled seeing the two men bring her into the lot from the air terminal the day before.

  “Reason I remember is, she drove in here in a nice-looking silver car, and then ten or fifteen minutes iater she comes back out, with two guys having to hold her up on her feet. And then she leaves in their car, instead of her own. ‘Course I could see she’d been taken ill, but even so it seemed kinda odd.”

  “Did you talk to them at all?”

  “Well, when they drove up to pay me, I asked her if everything was okay—at least I tried to—I

  mean about leaving her car here and all. She was too sick and woozy to give me a straight answer, but the old guy with glasses and a mustache said he was a doctor and he was taking her to the hospital.”

  Nancy said, “Do you remember what kind of a car he was driving?”

  “Yeah, a beat-up old black station wagon. That seemed funny too, ’cause I figured a doctor would be driving a better car than that. So I even wrote down the license number—just in case. I got it right here.”

  “Good for you!” Nancy jotted down the information which the parking lot attendant supplied, then thanked him and hurried to the nearest public telephone with Ned.

  Nancy called Police Chief McGinnis and gave him the description and license number of the station wagon. She asked if he could trace its registration and have all police cars keep a lookout for it.

  “Will do, Nancy. I’ll call as soon as I have anything,” Chief McGinnis promised.

  After hanging up, Nancy said, “Would you like to come to dinner with me, Ned? There’s nothing more we can do for the time being, and I’m sure you must be as hungry as I am.” “Sounds good to me!” Ned replied with a

  grin. Soon they were on their way to the Drews’ house.

  Hannah Gruen was just about to serve dinner. The motherly housekeeper set another place for Ned, and the two young people joined her and Mr. Drew at the table.

  Nancy had just finished her shrimp cocktail when the telephone rang. She immediately jumped up, saying, “That may be for me—I’ll get it.”

  “Nancy?” said the caller’s voice when she picked up. “Chief McGinnis here. Sorry if this is your dinner hour, but I thought you’d want to know immediately. That station wagon was reported stolen yesterday. It was found abandoned, early this morning, out near Fishwick. Hope this helps you.”

  “Oh, it does, Chief. Thanks for letting me know so promptly.”

  Hanging up, Nancy returned quickly to the dining room. “Ned, they found the station wagon out near Fishwick this morning. I’m going out there now. Want to come?”

  “Sure thing. Please excuse me, Mrs. Gruen— Mr. Drew.” He rose from the table.

  Nancy hastily apologized for interrupting the meal. “Dad, Hannah—I’ll explain it all when we get back. It’s really urgent—I’m sorry.

  Please go on with your dinner. We’ll get something later on, while we’re out.”

  Nancy kissed her father, gave Hannah a hug, and whirled out of the room, followed by Ned.

  It was not yet 8:00 P.M. and still light out. Fortunately traffic was sparse, and Nancy drove as fast as the speed limit allowed down to the River Road, then out along the two-lane country road that led to Fishwick.

  “I feel I just can’t get there fast enough, Ned,” Nancy murmured anxiously. “What do you think happened to her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we should have checked the hospitals first.”

  “You’re right. If this turns out to be a fruitless trip, that’s the next thing we’ll do.”

  Fishwick was a seedy beach community strung out along the riverbank. It centered on a cafe, a gas station and general store, and a boating pier. A row of run-down-looking cottages completed the picture.

  After slowing to look around, Nancy pulled into the gas station. A leathery-faced man got up off his tilted-back chair. “What’ll it be—gas or bait?”

  “Neither.” Nancy smiled at him. “You look like a very observant man.”

  The man responded with a pleased grin and

  shrewd wink. “Ain’t much goes on around here gets by me. Why? You lookin’ for someone?” “Yes, a sick woman. Two men brought her out here late yesterday in an old, black station wagon. Did you happen to notice them?”

  “Yep—that’s the place.” He pointed to a cottage half hidden among some trees.

  “Do you know who lives there?”

  “Shucks, can’t keep track. These places are rented by the day or week.”

  Nancy thanked him and drove on with Ned to the cottage. When they knocked, no one answered. But suddenly, a faint moan reached their ears.

  “Ned, did you hear that?!” Nancy exclaimed. “You bet I did!” Her friend put his husky shoulder to the door and pushed hard.

  The cheap lock soon gave way, and the door flew open. Nancy gasped at the sight that met their eyes.

  On a bare cot lay Rose Harrod, tied and gagged!

  17. Double Stakeout

  Nancy rushed to undo the woman’s gag. “Mrs. Harrod!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?” The woman’s eyes flickered open, but they scarcely seemed to focus, and the only audible response was a few faint, mumbled words. “I ... I d-don’t know . . . Wh-where am I?” Before Nancy could reply, Rose Harrod’s eyes rolled upward and her lids drooped shut again. She was obviously dazed and disoriented.

  “She must still be under the effects of that drug the fellow gave her!” Ned declared grimly.

  But Nancy shook her head. “I doubt if whatever he slipped in her coffee would keep her under this long. More likely they sedated her again after the
y brought her here to the cottage.”

  The cottage, though barely furnished, at least had electricity and running water. Ned switched on the overhead light, since dusk was gathering fast outside, and untied the ropes binding Mrs. Harrod. Meanwhile, Nancy wrung out her handkerchief in cold water.

  Together, they raised Rose Harrod to a sitting position and managed to revive her. But she was able to stammer out only a few confused words about the kidnapping before slumping unconscious again.

  “We’d better get her to a doctor right away,” Ned decided.

  “Yes, the sooner the better,” Nancy agreed. “I’ll help you carry her out to the car.”

  “No problem. I can carry her.”

  Ned, a well-muscled six-footer, easily gathered the woman up in his arms, and minutes later they were speeding back to town.

  After they had delivered Mrs. Harrod to the emergency room of the River Heights Hospital, Nancy called police headquarters to report what had happened. By the time she hung up, the intern on duty had finished examining the patient.

  “She’s been drugged, all right,” he told Nancy and Ned, “but I don’t think there’ll be any permanent ill effects. In any case, I want to keep her here under observation, at least overnight.”

  The two young people went to a nearby restaurant to settle down at last to their delayed dinner. But both were still too keyed up over the events of the evening to eat much. Moreover, Nancy was already laying plans for her night’s detective work.

  “Will you help me, Ned?” she asked. When he eagerly agreed, Nancy explained what she had in mind. Then she made several calls from a pay telephone in the rest room. She succeeded in contacting reporter Rick Jason; George’s friend Neil Sawyer, the electrical engineering student; and the park policeman, Officer Doyle, who by now had gone off duty. All three promised to meet her shortly before 11:00 P.M. at the same wooded stakeout spot where she and Ned had kept watch on the carousel on Monday night.

  It was long past nine-thirty when Nancy and Ned finally left the restaurant. They drove first to police headquarters, where Nancy borrowed a pair of police walkie-talkie radios. Then they drove on to the Trents’ house. Nancy had al-

  ready called Joy from the restaurant and learned that she had a key to the day-care center, since Joy did volunteer work there in addition to lending her carousel horse for the children’s enjoyment.

  Ned waited in the car while Nancy went up to ring the bell. Joy herself answered the door and handed Nancy the key.

  “Something tells me you have an exciting evening ahead,’’ she said enviously.

  The young sleuth chuckled and held up crossed fingers. “I just hope it doesn’t get too exciting for my health!”

  After leaving Joy’s house, Nancy and Ned headed for the day-care center. They parked well out of sight of their destination and walked the rest of the way.

  At this late hour, the whole surrounding neighborhood lay dark and silent. The only sounds were an occasional faint echo of traffic from Riverside Avenue, which bordered the park, several blocks away. Nancy and Ned found a shadowy spot among the tall pines and hemlocks and bushes from which they could keep watch unseen on the big, old house.

  During dinner, they had found time to glance at the photo story on the center’s carousel horse which had appeared in the evening paper.

  “You think that’ll be enough to attract the same burglars who broke into Joy Trent s house?” Ned inquired softly.

  “That or the television news bit, I hope,” Nancy replied, “assuming my hunch is right, of course.”

  As the hands of her wristwatch crept around toward eleven o’clock, Nancy finally left Ned to keeo watch alone while she went to check with her three cohorts outside the amusement park.

  Rick Jason, Neil Sawyer, and Officer Doyle were all waiting at the agreed-upon spot just outside the park’s pipe-and-chain barrier as Nancy came walking along the dark footpath to join them.

  Rick Jason was in high spirits at the prospect of a possible news scoop. “So this is how the famous girl detective gets her man, eh?” he bantered.

  Nancy’s blue eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “That remains to be seen.”

  Minutes later, the midway lights were turned off, and the amusement park area gradually settled down to stillness and darkness. At last, Neil Sawyer legged over the pipe-chain barrier and made his way cautiously toward the carousel.

  When he returned, he was grinning broadly.

  “Did my ploy work?” Nancy inquired.

  “You bet! There’s a radio-relay switch attached to the control box, just like I described to you!” he reported with a triumphant look.

  “Marvelous!” Nancy grinned back. “George certainly recommended the right technical expert!”

  After a hasty final discussion with Neil, Rick, and Officer Doyle, Nancy left the park and returned to Ned at their spy post outside the daycare center.

  “Any developments, Ned?”

  “Nothing so far. I just wish we’d brought something comfortable to sit on!”

  Nancy giggled softly. “Never mind, at least there’s enough grass and undergrowth to keep the pine needles from pricking us!”

  She leaned against her friend’s shoulder, and Ned slipped his arm around her waist. Twenty minutes went by pleasantly as they chatted under their breath and enjoyed each other’s company.

  Suddenly there was a crackle of radio static, and Officer Doyle’s voice came over Nancy’s walkie-talkie: “The trap has been sprung!”

  18. Circling Shadows

  So her plan had succeeded! Nancy smiled triumphantly at a grinning Ned.

  “Nice going, beautiful!” he commented. Patting his arm, Nancy murmured, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Take care!”

  With that, she hurried off to her car and drove the few blocks to the amusement park, which was now partially lit up. Grouped around the carousel were Officer Doyle, Rick Jason, Neil Sawyer, and a nervous-looking Leo Novak.

  “Smart girl, Nancy!” Rick Jason greeted her with a grin. “Everything happened just as you predicted. The carousel suddenly started playing. That woke up the people in the trailers, and the lights came on.”

  “Then Mr. Novak came running up to the carousel,” Officer Doyle chimed in. “It stopped playing when he was halfway to it, but he checked over the machinery.”

  The teenage sleuth turned to Leo Novak and asked, “What did you find?”

  “Nothing, absolutely nothing!” the carousel owner blurted emphatically. He plowed his fingers through his dark hair with a bewildered expression on his face. “I have no idea what’s causing all this funny business. And I don’t see any sign that the operating machinery’s been tampered with.”

  Nancy, Rick, and Officer Doyle glanced at one another. Meanwhile, Neil Sawyer quietly went over and slipped his hand under the operator’s control box.

  “Mr. Novak’s right,” he reported a moment later. “There are no gimmicks on the controls now.”

  In this way, he let the others know that someone had removed the radio relay he had discovered earlier that evening.

  Nancy nodded and flashed a barely perceptible eye signal to Officer Doyle. The policeman immediately turned to Leo Novak.

  “I wonder if you’d be good enough to empty out your pockets, sir.”

  “What?!” Leo Novak stared indignantly.

  “It’s up to you, Mr. Novak. Empty your pockets now voluntarily, or I intend to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

  “Disturbing the peace?!” The owner’s face was rapidly taking on a deep crimson flush.

  “That’s right,” Officer Doyle explained calmly, “by running your carousel after hours. That’ll mean a trip to the station house and everything else that goes with being arrested.’’ “Now wait a minute . . . !” Leo Novak began angrily. But after one look at the faces of the surrounding witnesses, he dropped his bluff and sullenly emptied his pockets.

  Among the sparse contents which he dumped into Officer Doyle’s waiti
ng hands was a little metal and plastic device with a short length of wire and a spring clip attached to each end. “There’s the radio relay,” said Neil Sawyer. Next, something that looked like a small hand-held walkie-talkie with a disappearing antenna emerged from the owner’s pocket.

  “And there’s the signal transmitter,” Neil added.

  Novak’s face was livid with fury, but he knew he was trapped.

  Nancy turned to Rick Jason. “Well, have I solved the mystery of the haunted carousel or not?”

  Before the reporter could do more than nod, the borrowed walkie-talkie attached to Officer Doyle’s belt suddenly came to life. Ned’s voice, low but quivering with suppressed excitement, crackled from the speaker:

  “Nancy, come back here fast . . . and try to avoid being seen!”

  Leaving the policeman to deal with Leo Novak, Nancy, with a hasty wave of her hand, turned and ran back to her car in the parking lot.

  In a few moments, she was driving through the dark, sleeping streets toward the day-care center. Again parking a block or so away, she slipped out of the car and walked swiftly to Ned’s hiding place among the trees and shrubbery.

  As she joined him, he whispered, “I saw a car drive slowly around the block three times. Then it stopped around the corner out of sight.” “Did anyone get out?” Nancy inquired softly. “Yes, I heaid a car door open and shut. And I think someone’s trying to get in the house right now, by the back way!”

  As the young people strained their eyes to pierce the midnight gloom, a flickering light suddenly appeared, first in one window, then another. Someone was moving through the big, old house!

  “What now?” Ned said tensely. “Want me to

  go in there after them?”

  “We’ll both go—but not yet. First we’d better make sure they didn’t post a lookout.”

  Slipping through the trees as silently as shadows, the pair circled the grounds of the day-care center and made their way cautiously toward the marauders’ car. It was empty.

  Nancy drew a sigh of relief. “Okay, no lookout! Now to see what they’re up to inside.” “Wait a minute!” Ned seized her arm. “Let me go in there alone. You wait out here!” Nancy pressed her lips to his cheek. “Don’t be silly—we’ll be safer if we stay together!” Before Ned could object any further, Nancy darted back toward the house. Her friend followed hastily. Hand in hand, they tiptoed up the broad front porch steps.