The Hidden Staircase (10 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Keene

Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Mansions, #Mystery & Detective, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Braille Books, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Adventures and Adventurers, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Children's Stories, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitous Character), #Haunted Houses, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #Mystery Stories, #General, #Nancy Drew, #Mystery and Detective Stories

BOOK: The Hidden Staircase
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Aloud, Nancy promised to stay on call in case Captain Rossland might need her. But in her own mind the young sleuth determined that if she got any kind of a lead concerning her father, she was most certainly going to follow it up.
Nancy left police headquarters and strolled up the street, deep in thought. “Instead of things getting better, all my problems seem to be getting worse. Maybe I’d better call Hannah.”
Since she had been a little girl, Nancy had found solace in talking to Hannah Gruen. The housekeeper had always been able to give her such good advice!
Nancy went into a drugstore and entered one of the telephone booths. She called the Drew home in River Heights and was pleased when Mrs. Gruen answered. The housekeeper was aghast to learn Nancy’s news but said she thought Captain Rossland’s advice was sound.
“You’ve given the police the best leads in the world and I believe that’s all you can do. But wait—” the housekeeper suddenly said. “If I were you, Nancy, I’d call up those railroad lawyers and tell them exactly what has happened. Your father’s disappearance is directly concerned with that bridge project, I’m sure, and the lawyers may have some ideas about where to find him.”
“That’s a wonderful suggestion, Hannah,” said Nancy. “I’ll call them right away.”
But when the young detective phoned the railroad lawyers, she was disappointed to learn that all the men were out to lunch and none of them would return before two o’clock.
“Oh dear!” Nancy sighed. “Well, I guess I’d better get a snack while waiting for them to come back.” But in her worried state she did not feel like eating.
There was a food counter at the rear of the drugstore and Nancy made her way to it. Perching on a high-backed stool, she read the menu over and over. Nothing appealed to her. When the counterman asked her what she wanted, Nancy said frankly she did not know—she was not very hungry.
“Then I recommend our split-pea soup,” he told her. “It’s homemade and out of this world.”
Nancy smiled at him. “I’ll take your advice and try it.”
The hot soup was delicious. By the time she had finished it, Nancy’s spirits had risen considerably.
“And how about some custard pie?” the counter-man inquired. “It’s just like Mother used to make.”
“All right,” Nancy answered, smiling at the solicitous young man. The pie was ice cold and proved to be delicious. When Nancy finished eating it, she glanced at her wrist watch. It was only one-thirty. Seeing a rack of magazines, she decided to while away the time reading in her car.
She purchased a magazine of detective stories, one of which proved to be so intriguing that the half hour went by quickly. Promptly at two o’clock Nancy returned to the phone booth and called the offices of the railroad lawyers. The switchboard operator connected her with Mr. Anthony Barradale and Nancy judged from his voice that he was fairly young. Quickly she told her story.
“Mr. Drew being held a prisoner!” Mr. Barradale cried out. “Well, those underhanded property owners are certainly going to great lengths to gain a few dollars.”
“The police are working on the case, but I thought perhaps your firm would like to take a hand also,” Nancy told the lawyer.
“We certainly will,” the young man replied. “I’ll speak to our senior partner about it. I know he will want to start work at once on the case.”
“Thank you,” said Nancy. She gave the address and telephone number of Twin Elms and asked that the lawyers get in touch with her there if any news should break.
“We’ll do that,” Mr. Barradale promised.
Nancy left the drugstore and walked back to her car. Climbing in, she wondered what her next move ought to be.
“One thing is sure,” she thought. “Work is the best antidote for worry. I’ll get back to Twin Elms and do some more sleuthing there.”
As she drove along, Nancy reflected about the ghost entering Twin Elms mansion by a subterranean passage. Since she had found no sign of one in any of the outbuildings on the estate, it occurred to her that possibly it led from an obscure cave, either natural or man-made. Such a device would be a clever artifice for an architect to use.
Taking a little-used road that ran along one side of the estate, Nancy recalled having seen a long, grassed-over hillock which she had assumed to be an old aqueduct. Perhaps this was actually the hidden entrance to Twin Elms!
She parked her car at the side of the road and took a flashlight from the glove compartment. In anticipation of finding the answer to the riddle, Nancy crossed the field, and as she came closer to the beginning of the huge mound, she could see stones piled up. Getting nearer, she realized that it was indeed the entrance to a rocky cave.
“Well, maybe this time I’ve found it!” she thought, hurrying forward.
The wind was blowing strongly and tossed her hair about her face. Suddenly a freakish gust swept a newspaper from among the rocks and scattered the pages helter-skelter.
Nancy was more excited than ever. The newspaper meant a human being had been there not too long ago! The front page sailed toward her. As she grabbed it up, she saw to her complete astonishment that the paper was a copy of the
River Heights Gazette.
The date was the Tuesday before.
“Someone interested in River Heights has been here very recently!” the young sleuth said to herself excitedly.
Who was the person? Her father? Gomber? Who?
Wondering if the paper might contain any clue, Nancy dashed around to pick up all the sheets. As she spread them out on the ground, she noticed a hole in the page where classified ads appeared.
“This may be a very good clue!” Nancy thought. “As soon as I get back to the house, I’ll call Hannah and have her look up Tuesday’s paper to see what was in that ad.”
It suddenly occurred to Nancy that the person who had brought the paper to the cave might be inside at this very moment. She must watch her step; he might prove to be an enemy!
“This may be where Dad is being held a prisoner!” Nancy thought wildly.
Flashlight in hand, and her eyes darting intently about, Nancy proceeded cautiously into the cave. Five feet, ten. She saw no one. Fifteen more. Twenty. Then Nancy met a dead end. The empty cave was almost completely round and had no other opening.
“Oh dear. another failure,” Nancy told herself disappointedly, as she retraced her steps. “My only hope now is to learn something important from the ad in the paper.”
Nancy walked back across the field. Her eyes were down, as she automatically looked for footprints. But presently she looked up and stared in disbelief.
A man was standing alongside her car, examining it. His back was half turned toward Nancy, so she could not see his face very well. But he had an athletic build and his left ear was definitely crinkly!
CHAPTER XIII
The Crash
THE STRANGER inspecting Nancy’s car must have heard her coming. Without turning around, he dodged back of the automobile and started off across the field in the opposite direction.
“He certainly acts suspiciously. He must be the man with the crinkly ear who helped abduct my father!” Nancy thought excitedly.
Quickly she crossed the road and ran after him as fast as she could, hoping to overtake him. But the man had had a good head start. Also, his stride was longer than Nancy’s and he could cover more ground in the same amount of time.
The far corner of the irregular-shaped field ended at the road on which Riverview Manor stood. When Nancy reached the highway, she was just in time to see the stranger leap into a parked car and drive off.
The young detective was exasperated. She had had only a glimpse of the man’s profile. If only she could have seen him full face or caught the license number of his car!
“I wonder if he’s the one who dropped the newspaper?” she asked herself. “Maybe he’s from River Heights!” She surmised that the man himself was not one of the property owners but he might have been hired by Willie Wharton or one of the owners to help abduct Mr. Drew.
“I’d better hurry to a phone and report this,” Nancy thought.
She ran all the way back across the field, stepped into her own car, turned it around, and headed for Twin Elms. When Nancy arrived, she sped to the telephone in the hall and dialed Cliffwood Police Headquarters. In a moment she was talking to the captain and gave him her latest information.
“It certainly looks as if you picked up a good clue, Miss Drew,” the officer remarked. “I’ll send out an alarm immediately to have this man picked up.”
“I suppose there is no news of my father,” Nancy said.
“I’m afraid not. But a couple of our men talked to the taxi driver Harry and he gave us a pretty good description of the man who came along the road while your father was lying unconscious on the grass—the one who offered to take him to the hospital.”
“What did he look like?” Nancy asked.
The officer described the man as being in his early fifties, short, and rather heavy-set. He had shifty pale-blue eyes.
“Well,” Nancy replied, “I can think of several men who would fit that description. Did he have any outstanding characteristics?”
“Harry didn’t notice anything, except that the fellow’s hands didn’t look as if he did any kind of physical work. The taximan said they were kind of soft and pudgy.”
“Well, that eliminates all the men I know who are short, heavy-set and have pale-blue eyes. None of them has hands like that.”
“It’ll be a good identifying feature,” the police officer remarked. “Well, I guess I’d better get that alarm out.”
Nancy said good-by and put down the phone. She waited several seconds for the line to clear, then picked up the instrument again and called Hannah Gruen. Before Nancy lay the sheet of newspaper from which the advertisement had been torn.
“The Drew residence,” said a voice on the phone.
“Hello, Hannah. This is Nancy.”
“How are you, dear? Any news?” Mrs. Gruen asked quickly.
“I haven’t found Dad yet,” the young detective replied. “And the police haven’t either. But I’ve picked up a couple of clues.”
“Tell me about them,” the housekeeper requested excitedly.
Nancy told her about the man with the crinkly ear and said she was sure that the police would soon capture him. “If he’ll only talk, we may find out where Dad is being held.”
“Oh, I hope so!” Hannah sighed. “Don’t get discouraged, Nancy.”
At this point Helen came into the hall, and as she passed Nancy on her way to the stairs, smiled at her friend. The young sleuth was about to ask Hannah to get the Drews’ Tuesday copy of the
River Heights Gazette
when she heard a cracking noise overhead. Immediately she decided the ghost might be at work again.
“Hannah, I’ll call you back later,” Nancy said and put down the phone.
She had no sooner done this than Helen screamed, “Nancy, run! The ceiling!” She herself started for the front door.
Nancy, looking up, saw a tremendous crack in the ceiling just above the girls’ heads. The next instant the whole ceiling crashed down on them! They were thrown to the floor.
“Oh!” Helen moaned. She was covered with lath and plaster, and had been hit hard on the head. But she managed to call out from under the debris, “Nancy, are you all right?” There was no answer.
The whole ceiling crashed down on them!
The tremendous noise had brought Miss Flora and Aunt Rosemary on a run from the kitchen. They stared in horror at the scene before them. Nancy lay unconscious and Helen seemed too dazed to move.
“Oh my! Oh my!” Miss Flora exclaimed.
She and Aunt Rosemary began stepping over the lath and plaster, which by now had filled the air with dust. They sneezed again and again but made their way forward nevertheless.
Miss Flora, reaching Helen’s side, started pulling aside chunks of broken plaster and lath. Finally, she helped her great-granddaughter to her feet.
“Oh, my dear, you’re hurt!” she said solicitously.
“I’ll—be—all right—in a minute,” Helen insisted, choking with the dust. “But Nancy—”
Aunt Rosemary had already reached the unconscious girl. With lightning speed, she threw aside the debris which almost covered Nancy. Whipping a handkerchief from her pocket, she gently laid it over Nancy’s face, so that she would not breathe in any more of the dust.
“Helen, do you feel strong enough to help me carry Nancy into the library?” she asked. “I’d like to lay her on the couch there.”
“Oh, yes, Aunt Rosemary. Do you think Nancy is badly hurt?” she asked worriedly.
“I hope not.”
At this moment Nancy stirred. Then her arm moved upward and she pulled the handkerchief from her face. She blinked several times as if unable to recall where she was.
“You’ll be all right, Nancy,” said Aunt Rosemary kindly. “But I don’t want you to breathe this dust. Please keep the handkerchief over your nose.” She took it from Nancy’s hand and once more laid it across the girl’s nostrils and mouth.

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