Nancy Clue Mysteries 3 - A Ghost in the Closet (26 page)

"How brave of you," Uncle Nelly cried.

"I know!" Myra Meeks nodded. "And although I hadn't memorized the script and was forced to wear my street clothes on stage, the production went over quite well. I hear people are still talking about it."

"I imagine they are," Uncle Nelly told Myra with all sincerity.

CHAPTER 41

Frank's Anguish

"Are there any more of those yummy prune cookies?" Joe wondered hungrily. He was resting atop a pile of boulders overlooking an underground rivulet falling into a shallow pond while his brother was leaning against a thick stalagmite whilst reading their map and scratching his head over their next move. "Golly, what is it about spelunking that makes a fellow feel famished?" Joe asked.

Frank tossed his younger brother the last cookie. "How can you eat so much?" Frank groaned as he patted his own swollen stomach. "Three ham and cheese sandwiches and seven cookies is my limit."

"We'll need all our strength to traverse the tunnel ahead," Joe pointed out.

"I can't believe we've been exploring for hours and still haven't found the main cavern. Who could have guessed this particular cave system extended for so many miles?" Frank mused. To make matters worse, the boys were shod in their underwater diving flippers as Joe had forgotten to bring along their waterproof duffel bag containing suitable cave-exploring outfits.

Frank checked his compass. "Hmmn," he puzzled. "I'm getting no reading whatsoever. The needle just lies limply and doesn't move when I change position."

"It must be broken," Joe figured.

"Impossible," Frank insisted. "It's guaranteed virtually foolproof. Why, it's the same model the Mercury 7 astronauts will wear into space when that great day finally comes.

"There must be some strange force field wreaking havoc with our polarities," Frank surmised.

"At least our one remaining lantern's working," Joe said in relief. No sooner were the words were out of his mouth when the torch flickered and went out. Joe banged on it to no avail. Except for the soft shimmer of glowworms attached to the cave ceiling, the boys were left in total darkness! "Oh, no," Joe groaned. "I just remembered I put the spare batteries in the duffel bag I left on Uncle Nelly's love seat."

Luckily Frank always kept two doubleD batteries in his oilskin pouch at all times. After letting Joe stew a moment, he handed him the replacements. "Phew!" Joe exclaimed. A moment later, the Hardly boys were back on the case.

"I'll never forget that duffel bag again," Joe swore as they walked toward the tunnel entrance, slipping on the slick ground under their flippers.

Frank smiled. "Sure, Joe, that's what you always say," he teased his younger brother.

"Hey, I'm a busy boy with a lot on his mind," Joe bantered back.

"I saw you eyeing Willy's cookies when you should have been double-checking our gear," Frank grinned knowingly.

Joe said nothing because Frank was frankly right. "I try, to be levelheaded like you and Father, but I'm afraid I'm given to flights of fancy," he explained.

"I'm not all that much like him," Frank quickly shot back.

Joe was puzzled. Why, Frank was always comparing himself to their father. "You're cut from the same cloth, and you know it," Joe teased back.

"Am not!" Frank insisted brusquely.

Joe gasped. Why, Frank sounded almost angry! He stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother. The two lads stood flipper to flipper while Joe looked queerly at his brother. He could detect a pained expression in Frank's usually affable hazel eyes.

"Frank, you've been acting peculiar all morning," Joe declared. "What gives?"

Frank bit his lower lip and look down at the ground. "Ever since Uncle Nelly told us the truth about Father, a million different questions have been racing through my head."

"Mine, too," Joe admitted. He wondered, for example, if Grandfather Hardly was a girl, too.

"Why did Father have to lie to us?" Frank cried out.

"It wasn't really a lie, it was more like a fib," Joe pointed out. "And I'm sure he had a very good reason. I'll bet it's a matter of national security. Why, Father may be protecting us from something."

"Yeah," Frank said bitterly. "The truth about who we really are!"

Joe was puzzled. "We're the Hardly boys, Frank. Everyone knows that."

"Joe, think," Frank cried. "If Father's a girl and Mother's a girl; well, don't you know what that means?"

Joe thought for a moment. "No," he had to admit.

"It means we're not really their sons! Joe, we're not the Hardly boys!"

Joe gasped. "Are you implying that we're not the fruit of the family tree?" cried the lad.

"We're probably not even brothers!" Frank was pulling no punches!

Joe gasped. His eyes filled with tears. Not bank's brother? Why, he couldn't even begin to imagine not being Frank's brother!

"You're making this up," Joe insisted. "Stop it, Frank, you're scaring me!"

"Joe, has it ever struck you as peculiar that neither of us looks anything like Mother or Father, or anyone else in the Hardly family for that matter?"

"So?" Joe replied. "That doesn't mean a thing. Our chum Chick Morgan doesn't look anything like his parents."

"Chick was adopted, Joe. Like us!"

Joe took his waterproof hankie from the pocket of his wet suit and tried to sop up the tears racing down his boyish cheek. "I won't listen to another word," he sniffed as he grabbed the lantern from Frank's hand and headed into the tunnel. "We're on an important case and I haven't time to stand here and listen to your silly ideas." He stomped away.

"Hey, wait up," Frank cried. Joe slowed his pace but said nothing.

"Joe, I'm just trying to get you to look at the truth," Frank insisted, "instead of living in that dream world of yours. The truth is Father-"

Joe cut him off. "Frank, you don't know what you're talking about," he informed his older brother. "Of course we're their sons. Who else could we be?"

"That's what I want to know," Frank said in a foreboding tone.

CHAPTER 42

I Before E Except After C

Cherry paused at the doorway to Ward B to make sure her crisp cap was pinned securely to her mop of merry curls. "Aimless, you must keep your eyes and ears open at all times for anything unusual and not let on for a moment that you're here as an Undercover Nurse trying to find an entrance to some secret caves hiding dangerous kidnappers," she told herself, plastering an efficient smile on her face.

Although Cherry was mighty worried about Nancy, she knew this was her only chance to search the sanitarium. Cherry was hopeful she could pick up some all-important clues on her own. "Especially since I'm the reason Nancy's not available for sleuthing," she thought glumly.

She checked the sturdy nurse's watch on her right wrist. "It's one twenty-seven, which gives me exactly one hour and thirty-three minutes to race through my assignment and slip away to do some investigating. I wonder what my duties will be?" Cherry thought nervously as she opened the door to the ward and walked inside. A charming scene greeted her eyes. Ten nicely-dressed elderly women with freshly set hair were seated in comfortable chairs around a large wooden table, sipping tea and snacking on dishes of creamy sherbet and crisplooking sugar cookies. A friendly discussion of commonly misspelled words was underway.

A cheerful, efficient-looking nurse with dark blond hair and shining brown eyes gave Cherry a big smile. "I'm glad to see reinforcements have arrived," she grinned.

"Where exactly am I?" Cherry asked, explaining, "This is my first day on duty at this particular sanitarium."

"You're in the Retired English Teacher's Wing, or Ward B, as it's more commonly called," the nurse informed her. "Starting from the far end of the table and working clockwise, that's Miss Vivian Valencia, Miss Betty Lingo, Miss Antonia Lefler, Miss Evelyn Hoover, Miss Zena Wallace, Miss Grace Smith, Miss Myrtle Allen, Miss Bernice Bloom, and our two Marys, Miss Pratt and Miss Meredith. I'm Head Nurse Fern Fiscus and I'm in charge of this boisterous gang."

Cherry smiled. She could tell from the warm tone in her voice that Head Nurse Fern Fiscus held her patients in the highest regard. "I'm sure these ladies aren't at all difficult to handle," she said in a nurse-to-nurse tone.

"Just watch your grammar," Nurse Fiscus warned. "The last nurse the front desk sent me asked Miss Lingo to'please go and lay down on your cot' and all heck broke loose!" The two nurses shared a knowing smile.

Nurse Fiscus showed Cherry the rest of the ward. It consisted of the lounge; a separate sleeping chamber with cozy cots and bedside tables, each with a good reading lamp and a stack of novels; a bathing facility that looked sparkling clean; and a small nursing station stocked with the most upto-date medical conveniences.

"The more I see of this place the more impressed I am," Cherry enthused. "This is a very sanitary sanitarium."

"Our patients seem to find it very comfortable," the Head Nurse smiled. "In fact, a few of the patients came to the Institution as young women for treatment in the Career Gals Ward and upon retirement moved to this ward."

"Goodness," Cherry said. This was the most confusing mental institution she had ever been in. "But back at Seattle General, we classify people according to their illness, not occupation," she blurted out before she remembered she was not to reveal any information about herself.

"Here, we use Dr. Fraud's experimental therapies and approaches," Nurse Fiscus explained. "The female of the species is his specialty, you know. He classifies them according to type, like anxious adolescents, harried housewives, congenital career gals and so forth. Along with their private thriceweekly visits with Dr. Fraud, our patients receive supportive therapies especially designed for their group. There's Occupational Therapy, Hairdo Therapy, Hydrotherapy, Wardrobe Therapy, and for the very worst cases, Shock Therapy."

"I've been involved in many applications of hydrotherapy," Cherry remarked, "and patients seem to find the hours spent in a tub with soothing warm water racing over their limbs quite refreshing."

"It's a favorite among the ladies in this ward," Head Nurse Fiscus agreed, adding confidentially, "If you ask me, some of my patients aren't really ill; they're just bored."

Cherry nodded sympathetically. She knew a great many people who were lonesome and suffered from social isolation. "It must be awfully hard to retire after an exciting lifetime spent teaching English," she murmured. She had a grand idea! "I'll bet what these ladies need is something interesting to do," she cried. For a moment Cherry forgot all about her all-important task of searching the sanitarium. "Let's have them write essays about the most influential person in their life, or given the choice, which animal they'd choose to be," Cherry suggested brightly.

"Splendid idea," Nurse Fiscus cried. "We'll need essay books, some number two pencils and gold stars," she declared. She took a ring of keys from her pocket and gave them to Cherry. "Would you go to the basement storeroom and get those things? Just take the main stairs three flights to the bottom level, turn left and continue east until you find the door marked Storeroom. You can't miss it."

"I'll be back," Cherry promised.

What luck being sent right to the basement where the entrance to the tunnel must surely be! She skipped out of the room and raced down the three flights of stairs, past nurses in crisply starched uniforms carrying trays of medications to various destinations. "Now that I have an excuse for being down here, I'll take a few extra minutes to poke around and then explain to Head Nurse Fiscus that I got lost," she schemed a little guiltily.

Ten minutes later, as she raced dizzily around the basement with its long winding corridors and numerous adjuncts, she realized she really was lost! Cherry had followed the head nurse's instructions to the letter and had quickly found the supply room. After filling her pockets with essay books, pencils and gold stars, she had ducked down a dimly lit corridor with a bright light at the end, thinking it might be the way to the tunnel entrance. She had instead found herself in another hallway, this one brightly lit, with black and white linoleum flooring, mint green walls and a steel door with glass windows threaded through with wire.