The Yellow Phantom

by Margaret Sutton

  CHAPTER XV

  FALSE ASSURANCE

  At noon Judy gave Dale and Pauline what little information she had oversandwiches and coffee in a near-by restaurant. Joy Holiday, she toldthem, disappeared twenty years ago; and Emily Grimshaw’s only reasonfor acting strangely was because she believed Irene to be her ghost.

  “If that’s the case,” Dale declared, “we’re simply wasting timequestioning her. Irene’s father might know something real.”

  Judy agreed. They telegraphed him at once:

  IRENE MISSING SINCE YESTERDAY STOP IS SHE WITH YOU JUDY

  The answer came back early that same afternoon:

  DONT WORRY STOP IRENE WITH RELATIVES IN BROOKLYN STOP ADVISED HER IN LETTER TO LOOK THEM UP TOM LANG

  Relief flooded Judy’s face. She waved the telegram excitedly and was onthe point of telling the news to Emily Grimshaw. Then she decided thatshe had better not—not yet, at any rate. The papers were still missingeven if Irene was safe. It would be better to clear her chum of allsuspicion as quickly as possible.

  Freed of a measure of worry and suspense, Judy’s mind eagerly took upthe story of Joy Holiday’s strange disappearance. Now that she feltsure it had nothing to do with Irene she could view the taledispassionately and take it for what it was worth. Still holding toDale Meredith’s theory that valuable clues might be found in thepoetry, she questioned Emily Grimshaw.

  “Why do you call the girl Joy Holiday when her mother’s name was Glenn?”

  “That’s only a pen name.” The agent explained. “Not any prettier thanHoliday, is it? But when she had her first poems published Sarah was soanxious to please the publishers that she agreed to use a name that wasshort enough to be printed across the back of that thin little book.Humph! And now the publishers are just as anxious to please her!”

  “What happened to her husband?” Judy asked after a pause.

  “Dick Holiday? He left her shortly after their baby was born. Said he’dmarried a wife, not a nursemaid, and she insisted upon giving all ofher time to Joy. When the child finally made a few friends among youngfolks her own age her mother, in a fit of jealous rage, locked her inthe tower.”

  “What tower?” Judy asked, growing more and more interested.

  “It’s a circular tower built onto Sarah’s house. Joy’s room was on thethird floor and there’s where her mother locked her up. She wanted Joyall to herself. That’s what I call mothering a girl to death. Thoughhow Joy died is still something of a puzzle to me.”

  “Why? What happened to her?”

  Emily Grimshaw’s expression changed. The lines in her foreheaddeepened. “I told you she disappeared, vanished completely, just likeyou say this friend of yours vanished. Some folks think she jumped froma window. How ever it happened, Jasper Crosby identified a body in themorgue as hers. They had a funeral over it and buried it, but hermother declares to this day it wasn’t Joy. It didn’t look like her.That girl was too beautiful to die and Sarah thinks she floats aroundbodily, mind you. No doubt you gathered that much from reading thepoetry.”

  “Oh,” Judy exclaimed. “That....”

  “Yes, _that_. But I doubt it.” She shook her head gravely and regardedJudy with a fixed stare. “Yes, I very much doubt it. Joy Holiday mustbe dead. Otherwise her spirit wouldn’t be coming back to haunt theearth. But what I’ve done that she should haunt me, the good Lordknows!”

  “Published the poetry, perhaps,” Judy suggested wickedly. If Irene’sdisappearance hadn’t been such a serious matter she would have laughedat the old lady’s superstitions.

  On the way home Judy tried to figure out why Irene had failed to get intouch with her. That Blackberry had chewed up her note as well as theyellow flower petals seemed likely until she talked it over withPauline.

  “A cat chew up paper?” the other girl sniffed. “Why, Judy, only goatsdo that.”

  “I know, but Blackberry is an unusual cat. I thought he might——”

  “Well, he wouldn’t,” Pauline interrupted. “You know, yourself, Irene issometimes thoughtless. She probably didn’t leave any note. She neverbreathed a word about those relatives either, and I think she must havehad some reason for not wanting us to know where she was going.”

  Judy nodded, unconvinced. Irene wasn’t that sort. The relatives inBrooklyn might have been a surprise to her also. Judy remembereddistinctly Irene’s assertion that she didn’t know a soul in the city.Her father must have revealed some family history in his letter. Oh,why did telegrams need to be so brief?

  Vaguely uneasy about the whole affair, Judy showed the telegram to Dalewhen he called later in the evening. As he read it his face beamed.

  “What more do you want?” he cried. “She’s safe! It’s all of Heaven toknow that much.”

  In a little while everything would be explained. Irene hadn’t intendedto worry them. And Dale was right. They should forget everything elseand simply be thankful that she was safe.

  For a week Judy went about the daily office routine cheered by the hopethat Irene would soon come back. After that doubts began to crowd in.Dale had been calling regularly, helping Pauline entertain even ifthere remained only one guest to pilot through the never-ending wondersof the world’s greatest city. One evening when he called to take themto dinner Judy confided her fears to him.

  “I don’t trust that telegram,” she said in a low voice. “If Irenereally is safe why hasn’t she written to tell us where she is?”

  “I’ve been wondering about that for a week,” Dale replied. “Suppose wesend another telegram.”

  “And have it answered as briefly as the last one? No,” Judy declaredemphatically. “I’m going to find out what has happened if it costs myweek’s salary in nickels. Where’s the nearest phone booth?”

  Dale pointed out a cigar store at the next corner and escorted her toit. Together she and Pauline assembled quite a pile of coins and Judydropped her first nickel in the slot. It was a relief to hear a nurse’svoice, finally, at the other end of the wire.

  “Farringdon Sanitarium?” she asked. “Is Mr. Lang well enough to come tothe phone?”

  “Oh, yes indeed,” the voice replied. “Just a moment and I will callhim. He is taking a walk around the grounds.”

  “He’s taking a walk,” Judy turned and whispered. “Won’t Irene be gladto hear he’s out of his wheeled chair?”

  Then Mr. Lang’s voice, wonderfully clear, asked who was calling.

  “It’s Judy. I called about Irene.”

  “About Irene!” Instantly the voice changed. Judy could tell that herfears were well founded.

  “Yes, yes. About Irene. She’s still missing. Who are her relatives inBrooklyn?”

  “Why, I—I dunno,” the old man faltered.

  “You don’t know! But you said not to worry. She was with relatives....”

  “Didn’t I say as she might be?”

  “Then you _didn’t_ know where she was?” Judy demanded.

  “N-no, not for sure. She’d have a purty hard time findin’ abody fromjest the looks of their house. But she does have relatives—if theyain’t dead.”

  “Her mother’s relatives?”

  “Yes, my poor Annie’s folks. I told her about them in a letter, but Iget all muddled up on the names. Can’t seem to remember. It’s queer howanything like that slips a man’s mind. Can’t you help me, Judy?” hebegged. “Ain’t there anything you can do?”

  “There’s _every_thing. Why, we would have turned New York inside outlooking for her if it hadn’t been for that telegram——”

  Dale touched her arm. “Go easy, Judy. Her father’s upset, too. Betterhang up, and we’ll report it to the police again.”

  At the same time Mr. Lang was saying, “I’ll manage it somehow. Thenurses ain’t strong enough to keep me here when my little girl is lost.”

  Through tear-dimmed eyes, Judy fumbled for the
pile of coins, put thefew that were left back in her pocketbook and stumbled out of the storewith Dale and Pauline.

  “All this to go through again,” she moaned, “and after we believed shewas safe!”

  Then she looked up and saw Dale’s sober face and resolved to be braveherself.

  “We’re going to the police station, aren’t we?” she asked. “We’ll tellthem it was a mistake—that report that she was with relatives—andperhaps, if we hurry, there will still be time for a police broadcastof Irene’s description over the radio tonight!”

  “There must be time,” Dale said between set lips. “And then what?”

  “And then,” Judy declared, “we’re going to take paper and pencil andwrite down every possible thing that could have happened to Irene.After that we’re going to begin with the most plausible and follow upevery clue. We’ll call in the police where necessary but we are theones to do the brain work. We are the ones who care.”

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