The Haunted Carousel (4 page)

As Nancy stood deep in thought, someone came up to her and spoke. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Miss Nancy Drew?”

Nancy looked up and saw a gray-haired man in a safari jacket. She nodded.

“I’ve read that you’re investigating this haunted carousel mystery,” he went on. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Amo Franz.” Nancy accepted his handshake. After he had been introduced to Bess, Franz remarked, “I guess I look a little out of place among all you young people, but I love amusement parks. They’re so bright and cheerful.”

“I agree.” Nancy smiled.

“Since I retired, I’ve traveled all over the country visiting them,” Franz went on. “I’m what you might call an amusement-park buff. In fact I’ve thought about writing a book on them someday. I certainly have enough material.” “Really? If you ever do, let us know,” Bess enthused. “Sounds like it would be fun to read!” Nancy was struck by a thought. “Do you know much about carousels?”

“Well, I like to think I do. For instance, this one—the Wonderland Gallop—is quite old and still has the original carousel horses. Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“How old are they?” Bess asked.

“Oh, they go back to the early 1920s, I would say—or perhaps even earlier than that,” Arno Franz answered. “But did you notice that the lead horse is different in style from the others, which probably means it was a replacement?” “Lead horse?” Nancy queried. “What do you mean?”

“That refers to the fanciest horse on the carousel, the one most ornately decorated.” “Oh yes, I see what you mean. They’re all beautifully trimmed, but that black one does stand out.”

“It’s exquisite!” Bess agreed.

Not only did its trappings include flashing silver armor and a gold-painted harness, but its bridle and mane were decorated with rosebuds, and its saddle was bordered by carved cherubs.

“And yet in spite of all the fancy ornamentation,” said Franz, “in some ways, it’s not really as beautiful as the other horses. For instance, it’s not as spirited-looking as a lead horse should be, and the outer surface is rather

smooth and uninteresting—I mean, it lacks the loving attention to detail that the carver lavished on the other horses.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t noticed before, but I can see that, now that you point it out,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “So if this is of different workmanship, it probably wasn’t one of the original carousel animals?”

“Exactly.” Franz nodded. “The wild idea occurred to me that at the time the lead horse was replaced, the carousel’s operating machinery might have been tampered with.”

“And that may explain why it turns on and shuts off by itself at night?”

“Right.” The gray-haired man smiled and shrugged apologetically. “As I say, it’s just a thought, but I figured I’d mention it.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you did,” Nancy responded. “It may be a clue worth following up.” After Arno Franz had said good-bye to the two girls, Nancy walked up to the youth who was running the merry-go-round and asked where she could find Leo Novak.

“He’s probably in his trailer eating lunch,” the assistant replied. “It’s that blue-and-white one over there in the camping space among the trees . . . the one nearest the light pole.”

Nancy thanked him for the information. Then

he and Bess walked over to the trailer which he had pointed out. Leo Novak answered on the first knock.

“Oh, it’s you, Miss Drew,” he said, recognizing the girl. “Find out anything new about what happened last night?”

“No, I was hoping that you might have.” When Novak shook his head, Nancy went on, “Did you examine the carousel after I left you?”

“Yes, but there was nothing out of order.” “Hm.” Nancy eyed the concessionaire reflectively. “Mr. Novak, I’ve been told that the lead horse on your carousel has evidently been replaced—that the one on there now is not the original.”

Novak frowned. “Why yes, that’s right,” he answered slowly. “The lead horse got damaged and had to be replaced—a truck hauling trash out of the park skidded into it. But if you think that had anything to do with what happened last night, or any of the other nights, forget it. That truck accident occurred several years ago. But this spooky on-and-off stuff at night only began very recently.”

“I see.” Nevertheless, Nancy was still not willing to ascribe the weird phenomenon to ghostly causes. Whatever the explanation, she

was convinced that something must have been done to the operating machinery to make the carousel turn on and off, apparently by itself. “Mr. Novak, would you permit me to have an engineer check out the carousel?”

Leo Novak hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders grudgingly. “Well, okay. This whole spooky business is a pain in the neck!”

“Thanks, Mr. Novak. It won’t cost you a thing,” Nancy told him. “Good-bye for now.” Nancy and Bess walked back along the midway, heading for the park exit. Suddenly, Nancy gasped as she saw a skinny figure in the distance.

“What’s the matter?” Bess asked.

“Look! There’s Fingers Malone!”

It almost seemed as if the crook could feel the intent stares Nancy and Bess were aiming at him. Malone’s gaze swept back and forth; he was evidently keeping a sharp lookout for park policemen and likely victims whose pockets he might pick. As his glance took in the two girls, his eyes lingered on Nancy Drew.

A startled, angry look came over the man’s face. It was obvious that he had just recognized the teenage sleuth who had caused him and his partners so much trouble yesterday afternoon. The next instant, he took to his heels!

Nancy went after him on the run, her friend following close behind.

“Oh, dear! What’ll happen if we catch up with him?” Bess worried aloud.

“Let’s hope we sight Officer Doyle or that detective from St. Louis,” Nancy shot back. “We’ll try to draw their attention!”

“What if we don’t?”

“We’ll think of something!”

Bess moaned anxiously, “Please remember what they both told you about those two crooks, Nancy—they’re dangerous!”

From the way Bess was panting, Nancy could tell that her plump friend was getting winded. By now, she could also see that Fingers Malone was heading for the Haunted House.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy glimpsed a girl waving at her from a distance, but she was too intent on watching Fingers to find out who the girl was or what she wanted.

Evidently, the crook had purchased a roll of general tickets on sale at the park entrance, good for all rides and concessions. Instead of lining up now to pay his admission, he simply tore off the required number, shoved them at the ticket taker, and darted past him into the Haunted House.

Nancy hastily debated the best course of action, then blurted at Bess, “Keep watch outside the exit. If you see a policeman, signal him. If

Fingers comes out, keep him in sight.”

“Okay, but what about you?”

“I’m not sure myself—I’ll just have to play it by ear, I guess.”

Nancy fretted at the delay, but rather than cause any resentment or disturbance, she waited in line to pay her admission. Then she identified herself to the ticket taker and said, “A wanted criminal just went in the house a few minutes ago. Please find a policeman and tell him I’ve spotted Fingers Malone. I’ll try to locate him inside!”

The ticket taker nodded tensely. “Sure thing. You watch yourself now, Miss Drew!”

Nancy hurried on into the Haunted House. Its interior was gloomy and ill-lit. Spiderwebs festooned the ceiling and comers, and weird, evil-looking portraits hung on the damp-stained walls.

Mournful organ music drifted down from somewhere on the upper floors. The excited voices and jittery laughter of other visitors who had entered the house just before her could be heard from adjoining rooms.

Nancy wondered which way to turn. Had she been foolish to follow Fingers Malone into the Haunted House? But no, she decided firmly—it was essential to find him and keep him under

surveillance until the police could arrive to arrest him.

A curving staircase led up to the second floor. She could glimpse white, ghostly shapes flitting through the darkness above the landing. A beady-eyed rat, perched on one of the steps, seemed to be watching her intently. Nancy assumed the repulsive little creature was stuffed, but preferred not to check.

Anyhow, she felt it was unlikely that Malone would go upstairs, where he might be more easily trapped and have fewer possible escape routes.

Instead, she turned off into a corridor on her right. At the end of it was a closed doorway. Someone began thumping on the door from the other side, shouting, “Let me out! . . . Let me out! ”

Nancy’s heart beat faster. Was this another Haunted House trick, or was it possible that Malone had robbed someone after entering and had locked up his victim?

Taking a deep breath, Nancy reached out to unlock the door—then jumped back with a start as a grinning skeleton popped out at her with a bloodcurdling scream!

As her foot touched the moth-eaten carpet behind her, the floor seemed to give way under

her weight. The next thing Nancy knew, she was plunging down a chute into utter darkness!

She landed on what felt like a swarming mass of small, furry objects. With a little cry of fright, Nancy scrambled away from them. A faint, moaning voice, accompanied by the sound of a clanking chain, reached her ears. Nancy groped her way toward it.

As her eyes became more used to the darkness, she saw that she was in a dusty, cob- webbed cellar. Ghoulish figures with glowing eyes could be glimpsed lurking furtively behind huge wine casks and amid the broken furniture and other discarded trash that littered the area.

Shuddery black batwings fluttered past— mostly overhead, but now and then one brushed her face. Nancy gulped hard, but did her best not to let her nerves get away from her. After all, it’s just carnival trickery! she kept reminding herself.

The moaning voice and clanking chain sounded louder now. On her left, Nancy saw a faint glow of light. As she moved toward it, a wizened, sharp-featured face suddenly came into view.

It was that of Fingers Malone!

Nancy gasped with excitment, and almost in the same instant, Malone turned and fled!

Picking up the first makeshift weapon she could lay a hand on, which happened to be a broken chair leg, Nancy ventured cautiously in pursuit.

The stone walls of the cellar seemed to merge closer together at this point to form a winding, upward-sloping tunnel. As Nancy entered it, she thought she could hear faint footsteps in the distance.

Rounding a corner, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Fingers Malone darting up a flight of stone steps at the end of the tunnel!

Nancy quickened her pace. Just then came a deafening sound! It was only an artificial thunderclap that was part of the Haunted House sound tape, Nancy assumed when her heart sank back into place from out of her throat again. But for all that, the unexpected ka-boom! had left her pulse racing!

An eerie wind and the splatter of a storm added to the spooky ambience. Clutching the broken chair leg tighter for security, Nancy began tiptoeing up the stone steps.

At the top was an open doorway, through which the glow of light was coming. Nancy plunged through the opening at a rush, to dodge any sneak attack by Fingers Malone.

But she failed to move fast enough! As she

dashed through the doorway, a lightning blow caught Nancy on the back of the head, and darkness engulfed her!

When she finally came to, she seemed to be lying on an old, black horsehair sofa, and faces were hovering over her. Gradually she realized that she was in the front parlor of the Haunted House. But now the room was brightly illuminated, and the faces bending over her were those of Officer Doyle, the St. Louis detective, and the park nurse.

“Just lie quietly for a while, dear,” the nurse said. “How do you feel?”

“I—I’m all right now, thank you,” Nancy said and rose slowly to a sitting position. She winced slightly and fingered a sore spot on her scalp.

“Can you remember what happened?”

“Yes, someone hit me on the back of the head.” Nancy halfway expected to feel a goose- egg there, but her thick, wavy, red-gold hair had evidently helped to protect her from injury.

Turning to the two policemen, she added, “I saw Fingers Malone, but he hid behind a door and took me by surprise.”

“Are you sure?” asked Officer Doyle. From his doubtful expression, and a similar look on the face of Detective Norris, Nancy saw that

they were not convinced.

“Well, of course I’m sure,” she retorted. “I certainly saw him well enough yesterday to know what he looks like. Why?”

“Because we ordered both the entrance and exit doors locked as soon as we got here,” Doyle replied, “and then we checked every person who was inside, one by one.”

“Fingers Malone wasn’t among them,” Norris added. “And he’s not in the house, either. We searched the place before you came to.” “But I saw him,” Nancy insisted. She told the two officers exactly what had happened inside the Haunted House, and ended, “If you didn’t see Malone, then he must have gotten away before you arrived.”

Officer Doyle frowned. “That doesn’t seem too likely, Nancy. He wouldn’t have had time.” She pondered for a moment, then brightened. “Wait, I know how we can find out for sure!” “How?”

“My friend Bess was waiting outside the exit. I told her to keep watch for Malone and follow him if he came out!”

Doyle glanced at his colleague, who shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. Let’s go and see what she says.”

Nancy’s blond friend was still standing out-

side the Haunted House, among the onlookers who had gathered after the arrival of the police.

“Oh, Nancy! Thank goodness you’re all right!” Bess exclaimed and gave her a hug of relief. “I was so worried!”