George, curious, tried to see what lay beyond the bookcase. “Nancy, lend me your flashlight.”
She beamed the light into the fractional opening on either side but could detect nothing. Just then Bess noticed that the bookcase was starting to revolve again.
“Look out!” she shouted at her cousin.
George just avoided being squeezed but could not pull Nancy’s flashlight away in time. It went on around with the bookcase and they heard it fall to the floor. She apologized for its loss.
“All their faces have been blacked out!” Bess exclaimed
“Maybe it was a good thing,” Mr. Drew remarked. “At least we know there’s a floor in the area beyond.”
Nancy glanced up at her father and grinned. “Meaning that when we get in there, we’ll have something to stand on.” He smiled and nodded.
The bookcase had revolved to its usual position and stopped. When Mr. Drew said he wanted to examine the portraits, Nancy reached in through the sliding panel and touched the weight. The bookcase did not move. She pulled the counterbalance. Still nothing happened.
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed. “I must have broken the mechanism!”
George stood surveying the shelves. “Maybe,” she said, “if I take out a lot of the books, I could lie down on the shelf and ride around to the other side. Then I can tell you what’s there.”
Her hopes were dashed, however, because although they all pulled and tugged, they could not budge the bookcase.
Bess sighed. “Maybe we ruined everything!”
CHAPTER XIV
A Weird Story
MRS. CARRIER, still angry over the blotted-out faces of her relatives, said bitterly, “I think such destruction is unforgivable. This is Rawley’s home to be sure, but there are certain things that go beyond all reason.”
She went on, “If my brother Rawley isn’t found soon, I declare I’m going to have this whole bookcase torn down. Then we can get at those pictures. I hope that whatever paint was used to cover the faces can be removed easily.”
Nancy put an arm around the irate woman. “I’m sure the pictures can be restored,” she said. “Art shops do wonderful things these days.”
Thinking it might calm Mrs. Carrier to get away from the bookcase, she said, “My dad didn’t have much time to see the house on his first visit. Wouldn’t you like to show him around? I’ll go with you.”
The three toured both floors, while Bess and George continued to work on the bookcase. Mr. Drew studied the unusual designs in the carved woodwork. By the time they returned to the first floor, Mrs. Carrier seemed to be her usual self.
She even laughed and said cheerily, “Mr. Drew, tell me, have you ever heard of such a crazy place?”
The lawyer smiled. “I can’t say I have. I imagine, though, that your brother had a lot of fun building this house. It’s amazing to me why he never invited any relatives here. Surely they would have been highly entertained.”
Mrs. Carrier said she could not understand this either. “As far as we know now, his only companion was a robot.”
“I would prefer a human servant at any time!” Mr. Drew remarked.
Just then Bess called—excitedly, “Everybody come here at once! Quick!”
The three hurried to the living room. Bess and George were poring over a volume they had found in the bookcase. Nancy asked what the title was and George replied, “It’s called Archaeological Finds in Jewelry. Take a look at this page.”
The open book revealed the picture of a gold bracelet made of intertwined serpents. Each one had a ruby eye, and the jewel piece was encrusted with turquoise. Nancy noticed that the page had been marked in ink with a large asterisk.
Bess cried out, “This must be the skeleton’s bracelet! Here it says the ancient bracelet was found on the bony arm of an unknown Aztec woman’s skeleton!”
George began to read the text aloud:
“ ‘Mystery shrouds the identity of the woman who wore the bracelet. During a dig in a lonely area far away from cities, the skeleton was found intact. It is thought that the woman died from the venom of a poisonous snake. Whether the bracelet was hers or was put on after her death is not known.’ ”
“Listen to this!” Bess burst out as George paused. “It says here that the skeleton and the bracelet disappeared mysteriously from the dig. The thief probably sold them, but there is no record as to where they went.”
The girls looked at one another. Each was thinking the same thing. Had Rawley Banister purchased the skeleton and bracelet from the thief? In deference to Mrs. Carrier, they did not express the thought aloud.
“You won’t mind if I go outdoors for a little while?” she asked. “This place is making me nervous. Some fresh air will do me good.”
Mr. Drew asked if she would like to go home, but Mrs. Carrier insisted that he and the girls go on with their investigation.
“I’ll feel better in a little while,” she assured them.
As soon as she had gone outside, the others discussed the anonymous note Nancy had received and its relation to the story in the book.
“One thing is sure,” said George. “Somebody who knows about the bracelet hasn’t found it yet. He wants Nancy to do this for him.”
“You could be right,” Mr. Drew replied. “Then, after Nancy finds the bracelet, he’ll try to steal it.”
Bess asked, “Do you think the writer of the note knows the bracelet is here? Has he been trying to locate it, but failed?”
The others shrugged, and George said, “Anything’s possible.”
Nancy reminded her friends that unless they started a search for the bracelet, none of them would ever find it.
“I think the location of this book in the shelves may be a clue. Where was it?” she asked.
Bess pointed to a space between other volumes. Nancy quickly took out the books near that spot, then examined the rear wooden panel. There was no sign of another opening or any hidden contrivance.
“I suggest,” said Mr. Drew, “that we take every book out of the case. We might be able to discover some way to make the piece revolve again.”
The books were removed an armful at a time and put in consecutive piles so they could be correctly restored to their original positions. The eyes of the three girls and Mr. Drew swept over the entire surface of the backing from ceiling to floor.
Finally Nancy remarked, “I guess the sliding secret panel is the only way to make this thing revolve.”
Again she put her hand into the opening and felt all around the weights. Her fingers touched a small lever. The instant she moved it, the sliding panel slammed shut onto her wrist.
“Ouch!” she cried out and tried with her other hand to pull the panel back. It would not give an inch.
The next second the bookcase began to revolve. Nancy tried frantically to release her injured hand.
“Help!” she cried.
Mr. Drew jumped forward. Calling to Bess and George to help him, he held onto the bookcase. With their combined strength, they managed to keep it from revolving farther.
Nancy’s hand was numb by this time. Desperately she tried to find some mechanism so she could free herself.
“It’s no use!” Nancy thought. But the determined girl grit her teeth and said aloud, “Somebody hand me a heavy book.”
Bess picked one up. Nancy took it in her left hand and swung the volume with all her might against the sliding panel. The wood shivered but did not give way. She gave it another hard whack. This time there was a splintering sound and a piece of the panel fell down behind the partition. Quickly Nancy pulled out her hand.
Mr. Drew and the girls let go of the bookcase, which once more began to revolve. They heaved sighs of relief.
“You had a narrow escape!” Bess said sympathetically. “Your whole hand might have been ripped off!”
“Yes, I know,” said Nancy. “Thank you all for helping me. I think I’ll go and run cold water over my wrist and hand.” She went into the kitchen.
r /> Circulation was soon restored and she returned to the living room. By this time Mrs. Carrier had come inside. She was listening to Bess’s graphic description of what had happened.
“This place is just too dangerous for you girls to work in,” she said dismally.
Nancy tried to cheer up the woman. “We’re going to solve this whole mystery soon, I’m sure of it. Please don’t worry.”
She noticed that the bookcase had swung around to the portrait side. Her father had jammed a wedge into one side so the mechanism could not work.
“I think we should examine each of these pictures,” he said. “One or more of them may contain a clue.”
He lifted down five of the portraits and handed one to each person in the room. There was complete quiet for a few minutes as they all scanned the pictures carefully.
Suddenly Mrs. Carrier cried out, “This face! There’s money under the black paint!”
She started chipping off the black coating with her fingernails. The others crowded around to watch.
Two minutes later Mrs. Carrier pulled her hand away from the portrait, grabbed her fingers, and cried out in pain!
CHAPTER XV
Nancy’s Stratagem
AT Mrs. Carrier’s outcry, Mr. Drew’s face took on a look of alarm. “Nancy,” he said, “do you have your magnifying glass with you?”
“Yes, I do,” she replied and went for her handbag.
Mr. Drew examined the paint which Mrs. Carrier had been scraping with her fingernails.
“I need a knife,” he said, and Nancy hurried to the kitchen to get one.
Her father chipped off more of the paint, then exclaimed, “The face on this portrait is covered with steel nails that are holding down a thousand-dollar bill.”
Suddenly Mrs. Carrier said, “I believe they’re more than plain steel nails. See how my hand is swelling.”
The others looked at her in alarm. Bess cried out, “I’ll bet there’s poison on them!”
“I believe you’re right,” said Mr. Drew. “I think I’d better take Mrs. Carrier to a doctor at once.”
“The hospital is closer,” the woman said. She was beginning to scratch herself with her uninjured hand. “I itch all over,” she complained.
Mr. Drew said that either the paint was poisonous or the steel nails fastened to the portrait had been brushed with poison. “Come, we’ll leave right now,” he told Mrs. Carrier. “You girls be very careful while I’m gone. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
As Nancy took a sixth portrait from the wall, Bess said worriedly, “Nancy, don’t you dare touch that!”
The young detective smiled. “I’m certainly not going to touch it with my bare hands,” she said. “But I think these scrapings of paint and these steel nails should be analyzed by a chemist. He’ll be able to tell what kind of poison they contain.”
George said she was not afraid to work with Nancy. She procured another knife from the kitchen and also two paper bags. Bess sheepishly followed and returned with a knife and a bag.
The girls worked for a long time in silence. Each one was very careful not to let the paint touch her skin. The shavings were dropped into the bags.
Finally George spoke up. “How are we going to remove the nails without touching them?”
“I saw a tool drawer in the kitchen,” Nancy said. “Maybe I can find a pair of pliers.”
She soon returned with the tool. One by one Nancy pulled the nails from the picture on which Mrs. Carrier had been working. Most of the black paint had been scraped from the portrait and the girls could distinguish the face beneath.
“Ugh!” Bess exclaimed. “Mrs. Carrier thought all the Banisters were handsome. I guess she forgot this one.”
George pointed out that the man had very fine features, but admitted he had a stern, cruel expression.
Bess commented, “I don’t blame Rawley Banister for not liking him. He gives me the creeps.”
Nancy laughed. “Well, Bess, you won’t have to worry about meeting him. I judge from the man’s clothes that he lived a long time ago.”
“He makes me nervous,” Bess insisted. She picked up the portrait and hung it face inward on the wall.
Just then there was loud, persistent rapping of the front-door knocker. “I guess Dad is back,” Nancy remarked, and went into the hall.
It occurred to her that this kind of summons did not seem like her father but rather that of an impatient caller.
“I’d better see first who’s there before I let anyone in.”
Previously she had noticed a peephole in the front door. A person inside the house could look out but no one could peer in. She put one eye to the hole.
Standing outside was a huge man. His face was red and he was pacing back and forth nervously. Not bothering to use the knocker, he banged hard on the door with his fists.
“I don’t think I should let him in,” Nancy told herself, surmising that he could be unfriendly.
Perhaps the stranger had been watching the place. After he had seen Mr. Drew leave, the man might have concluded he could handle the three girls alone.
“There’s no telling what he may be up to,” Nancy thought.
She decided to try strategy. Imitating the recorded voice which had greeted her and Mr. Drew on their first visit, she said loud and clear:
“Mr. Banister is not at home. Come back some other time.” A couple of seconds later she repeated the message.
Once more she looked through the peephole. The huge man at the door grew even redder in the face and waved his fist.
“Okay,” he yelled, “but I’ll get him yet! Rawley Banister can’t swindle me and not pay for it!”
After delivering his threat, the man walked away. Taking long steps, he strode across the bridge angrily and headed for a parked car.
Nancy smiled. Her ruse had worked! She returned to the other girls and told them what had happened.
Bess said, “I’m glad you didn’t let him in! He sounds like trouble!”
“He sure does!” George agreed. “I wonder who he is.”
Nancy shrugged. “Apparently another one of Rawley’s victims. He was big enough and mad enough to give the swindler a good beating.”
The girls continued their work of uncovering the portrait faces without their fingers touching the surface. Several pictures had thousand-dollar bills secreted under the paint.
“I can’t see,” said Bess, “why anybody would bother to hide money and then put poison on it. He wouldn’t be able to use it.”
Nancy suggested that the bills could be washed. Bess and George commented that this was just one more idiosyncrasy of the man who had built the fantastic house. Finally the girls became weary of their task and gave up. They had collected sufficient samples for a chemical analysis.
The front-door knocker sounded again, but less noisily. This time the caller was Mr. Drew. With him was Thomas Banister who seemed very upset over what had taken place.
“This is astounding,” he remarked, after greeting the girls. “I can’t imagine what ailed my brother. He’s a sick man, no doubt about it.”
Nancy asked how Mrs. Carrier was. Mr. Drew replied, “She’ll be all right, but the doctor said that she had come to the hospital just in the nick of time.”
“How dreadful!” Bess exclaimed.
Mr. Drew was told about the paint samples. “Good,” he said. “The doctor will want to have these scrapings analyzed. Why don’t you girls bring them to him before lunch and see how Mrs. Carrier is feeling?”
Nancy agreed and suggested that perhaps they should release the wedge from the bookcase and let it revolve into place.
Her father nodded. “And we’ll return the books to the shelves.”
While this was being done, Bess came across a volume entitled Poisonous Plants, Insects and Snakes. She sat down and began to turn the pages. She hoped that one would be marked, giving a clue to the poison on the portraits! She looked carefully at each page. Finally near the end of the b
ook, she came across the drawing of a cobra.
“Look, everybody!” Bess called out. “Here’s a snake exactly like the one in the wall hanging!”
The others hurried to her side and gazed at the deadly snake.
“Here it states,” she went on, “that the venom of the cobra can kill a victim within an hour! Do you suppose the poison on the portraits is from a cobra?”
“Let’s look at that serpent picture in the hall,” Nancy suggested.
She and the others rushed from the living room and gazed up at the wall hanging which hung directly above the end of the cut-off crooked banister.
Had the searchers stumbled upon a clue?
CHAPTER XVI
Double Suspects
To avoid possible contamination from the Oriental wall hanging, Nancy and her friends used paper towels to lift it down. Gingerly they turned it over.
“I don’t see anything suspicious,” George remarked.
Nancy took out her magnifying glass and went over every inch of both sides of the serpent picture. “Neither do I,” she said finally. “But I wonder if we should take off the back. What do you think, Dad?”
“I think we should leave the piece as it is,” he replied. “It would be wiser to solve this mystery in some safer way.”
Mr. Drew added that he must return to River Heights directly after lunch. He glanced at his watch. “We’ll have to go now.”
Nancy locked the front door and pocketed the key. Les Morton the guard was just returning and apologized for being away longer than he had expected. He helped Nancy and the others carry the saplings back to the woods. Then the group climbed into Mr. Drew’s car.
On the way to the hospital Thomas Banister expressed concern that there was still no definite clue to his brother’s whereabouts. “The police have an alarm out in every state.”
Mr. Drew spoke up. “And as Nancy told you, all ports in the Carribbean Islands have been alerted, but neither Rawley nor his cruiser have been seen in that area.”
“I’m greatly worried about Rawley,” Thomas Banister said. “He’s such a daredevil there’s no telling what he may try. This uncertainty is maddening. I wish my brother would return and face the music.”
The Crooked Banister Page 8