The Crooked Banister

  Nancy went on, “When we go to Rawley Banister’s house, I’ll hunt for taper matches. If I find any like this one, it should be pretty good proof that it was Rawley who was here.”

  She could hardly wait for the next day to come. Now that the Drews were directly involved in the mystery, Nancy was eager to start work.

  Although only eighteen, she had earned a reputation as an amateur detective by solving several cases, among them The Secret of the Old Clock, The Hidden Staircase, and most recently The Mysterious Mannequin.

  The following morning when the Drews and Mrs. Melody arrived at Mrs. Carrier’s home, they found her pale and nervous. Through a friend who was a newspaper reporter she had heard of the fires at the motel and the theft of important papers.

  “I was sure they were yours and I’m terribly sorry. I know you must suspect, as I do, that the arsonist was my brother Rawley. Oh, it’s dreadful to have a member of one’s family do disgraceful things!”

  She looked pleadingly at Nancy and her father. “The police have no trace of Rawley. Will you help me find him? I’m so worried that he’s using an assumed name again and cheating people out of money.” Tears trickled down the woman’s cheeks.

  Mrs. Melody put an arm around her old school friend. “Please don’t feel so bad about this. I’m sure your brother will be found and will make amends. Let’s go out to his house and see if we can find something to help solve the mystery.”

  They set out at once for Rawley Banister’s. When they reached the hilltop, the place seemed peaceful. In the bright sun the house did not appear so formidable.

  Mrs. Carrier took the key from her handbag and inserted it in the front-door lock. She turned the knob and the heavy door swung inward. The hall was dark but daylight penetrated for a short distance.

  “Oh! What’s that?” Mrs. Melody cried out, pulling back.

  All of them heard a strange whirring sound. The next instant a weird metal figure whizzed across the hall, then went out of sight. But in a couple of moments it returned and shot past the callers.

  “It’s a robot!” Nancy exclaimed. “He must be guarding the place.”

  The visitors hesitated to walk in, but presently the robot disappeared through a swinging door at the rear of the hallway.

  “I wonder if he’s coming back,” Mrs. Carrier said fearfully. “Rawley didn’t warn me that eerie things might happen here!”

  Nancy was puzzled why the tape recorder at the door had not worked. “Maybe the knocker sets it off.” But when she rapped with it, there was no voice. “Strange,” she murmured.

  Just then the robot came through the swinging door. This time the figure on wheels stopped beside a slanting column on top of which was a coach lamp. With one hand the robot turned on the lamp. The funny little mechanical man then went toward the front door and snapped on the switch for a ceiling fixture.

  “Oh!” Mrs. Carrier burst out. “I can’t believe it!”

  Mr. Drew smiled. “He seems harmless enough.”

  Mrs. Melody pointed to a broad staircase. It was the most fantastic one any of them had ever seen. It twisted and turned every few feet. Even the spindles were not upright; some slanted forward, others backward.

  On the left side the railing ended in a very attractive newel. The other banister stopped about three steps from the floor and ran into a wall. The staircase had not been centered. The whole thing gave the entrance hallway an unbalanced look.

  “Why do you suppose your brother planned all this unusual architecture?” Mr. Drew asked Mrs. Carrier.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea,” she answered. “As a little boy Rawley used to build queer-looking things with his blocks, and later with metal construction toys. He made buildings, bridges, and strange cars and planes.”

  Mr. Drew nodded. “That figures. This place was sort of your brother’s dream house.”

  “I suppose so,” Mrs. Carrier agreed. “He wanted to see how much he could build things off balance and without them toppling over.”

  Nancy continued to stare at the crooked staircase. Smiling, she said, “Sliding down that banister would be a terrific challenge.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t want to attempt it,” said Mrs. Melody.

  The walls of the entrance hall were papered in a gold-and-black floral pattern. There was only one picture. It hung just above the end of the unfinished banister, and was a framed Oriental hand-embroidered wall decoration. The visitors walked over to it and studied the weird design.

  “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven serpents,” Nancy counted, “all intertwined. They look greedy and horrible.”

  “Yes,” her father said. “And each one is eating poisonous food. Some are flowers, others snakes. I recognize this plant as deadly nightshade.”

  “And isn’t one of the serpents swallowing a poisonous snake?” Nancy asked. “I think it’s a cottonmouth.”

  Before anyone could answer, the callers were startled by an explosion beyond the swinging door.

  “Oh, what happened?” Mrs. Melody exclaimed.

  The group stood frozen. If they rushed in to find out, would they perhaps be trapped and never get out of this weird house alive?

  CHAPTER III

  Telltale Evidence

  THE visitors finally decided to find out what had happened behind the swinging door but to do so cautiously. Mr. Drew insisted upon looking first. Carefully he opened the door and peered inside.

  “I guess everything’s safe,” he said and motioned the others to follow him. Beyond was a large kitchen and in the center of the floor lay the robot, its head off!

  “My goodness!” Mrs. Melody exclaimed. “Is he—is he—dead?”

  Mr. Drew smiled. “At least he has been beheaded,” he answered. “But the rest of his body may be ‘hot.’ ”

  “What do you mean?” Mrs. Carrier asked.

  The lawyer explained that he did not know exactly how the robot worked. It was possible the figure was charged with electricity and should not be touched.

  “Let’s find out!” Nancy suggested and began pulling out kitchen drawers. Finally she found what she was looking for—a long-handled wooden spoon.

  “Perfect,” her father said. “This is a nonconductor. We’ll soon know if our little friend is hot!” He began poking into the neck of the robot and announced, “Here is a tape.”

  Further exploration revealed that many wires and pulleys ran to the robot’s arms and legs.

  “Evidently,” Nancy remarked, “this little man was programmed to do certain things, even to warn visitors away.”

  Mrs. Melody looked puzzled. “But if nobody was here, how did it start?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mr. Drew replied. “Some robots are set off by heat, even the warmth of a human body. Others are designed to react to sound. I suspect it is sound in this case.”

  Mrs. Carrier said, “You mean that when we came into the house the pitch of our voices activated the robot?”

  “Possibly,” Mr. Drew replied.

  Nancy took a flashlight from her purse and shone it down inside the figure. “A lot of wires are broken,” she said, “so we can be doubly sure this creature won’t hurt us. But I do think he should be fixed. I have a hunch he’s going to figure big in our mystery.”

  She opened other drawers and presently came upon reels of tapes, marked with numbers and letters.

  Nancy turned to Mrs. Carrier. “Is there a good electrician in town who would come and repair the robot?” she asked.

  Several seconds went by before the woman replied. “I dislike the thought of bringing strangers here,” she said. “But if you really feel that the robot might be a clue to the whereabouts of my brother, I’ll agree. There’s a very good electrician in Mountainville. I’ll get in touch with him.”

  Nancy thanked her and then suggested that they search the house. The kitchen was modern with an outside door which had a Yale lock.

  “I hope we don’t have any more scares,” Mrs. Melody said.


  On one side of the center hall, in back of a den, was the dining room with crudely made but symmetrical furniture. Its walls contained several paintings, all of queer-looking undersea creatures, some with long tentacles.

  The living room was on the opposite side of the hall. It was furnished with ultramodern pieces and had a large convex bookcase on the hall side.

  As the group mounted the zigzag steps to the second floor, Nancy and Mrs. Melody began to giggle The woman said, “This is like climbing a stony mountain trail that twists and turns every few feet.”

  The bedrooms and a study proved to be comfortable but filled with weird and ghoulish silver figurines. In the room where Rawley apparently slept, the bed had a high peak under the middle of the spread.

  Mrs. Melody remarked, “Sally, do you suppose your brother slept with his legs draped over that barrier?”

  “He’s tall enough to,” Mrs. Carrier answered.

  Nancy examined the bed and found that it contained a jointed mattress which could be moved electrically. She pushed one of the control buttons and the mattress descended to a flat position.

  “That looks better,” Mrs. Carrier said.

  While the others gazed at the ultramodern etchings on the walls, Nancy walked over to a fireplace which looked as if it had been used frequently. Ashes and half-burned logs lay just inside the hearth. A slender, rounded, brass box stood at the edge. Nancy opened it and gasped.

  Inside were a dozen taper matches that looked like the one she had found on the balcony of the motel!

  Not wishing to upset Mrs. Carrier, Nancy went over to her father, took his hand, and unobtrusively guided him to the brass box. Then she walked back to the two women. Mr. Drew lifted the lid and gave Nancy a knowing look as he closed it.

  A few minutes later Mrs. Carrier and Mrs. Melody left the room and went downstairs. The Drews discussed the clue of the taper match.

  “It certainly seems to indicate that Rawley set the fires and stole the papers,” Mr. Drew stated.

  “To make sure,” said Nancy, “I’ll take one of these fireplace matches along and compare it with the match I have at the motel.”

  When she and her father joined the two women at the foot of the crooked stairway, Mrs. Carrier said she was worried about leaving the property unguarded. “There’s a lot of valuable art work and silver pieces in this house. What do you think I should do, Mr. Drew?”

  The lawyer suggested a watchman. They found a telephone and directory in the kitchen and looked up the name of an employment agency in Mountainville.

  As Mrs. Carrier dialed the number, she gazed at the headless robot and remarked, “That thing gives me the creeps! ... Hello. Tepper Employment Agency?”

  “Yes. Frank Furness speaking.”

  Mrs. Carrier gave the address of Rawley Banister’s house and said she would like to hire a watchman to guard the place day and night.

  “I’ll call you back,” Mr. Furness said, “after I contact some names on our list.”

  Twenty minutes later the phone rang. “I’m sorry, madam, but I couldn’t find anyone to help you out. You know, that place has a reputation of being a crazy house. The men I asked said they wouldn’t go there for a million dollars!” He hung up.

  When Mrs. Carrier repeated the conversation, Nancy smiled. “Don’t worry. If guards are afraid to come here, I’m sure burglars would be too.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Mrs. Carrier said with a deep sigh. “I suppose we may as well leave.”

  The front door was securely locked and the visitors walked to Nancy’s car. Mr. Drew slid into the driver’s seat. Nancy sat next to him. On the way back to town, he said:

  “Mrs. Melody and I must leave directly after lunch.”

  Nancy was disappointed. She had just become involved in the baffling mystery and now she must give it up. To her surprise Mr. Drew said, “Nancy, if you are willing to stay here, I’d like you to continue work on the case.”

  The young sleuth’s eyes lighted up. “Dad, that’s terrific! You know I’ll do my best—”

  “Not so fast,” her father said, patting Nancy on the shoulder. “There’s one big condition that goes with this.”

  “What is it, Dad?”

  Mr. Drew said he would like Nancy to call her friends Bess and George to see if they could come and stay with her. “If they can’t, you’ll have to return home with me.”

  Bess Marvin and George Fayne were cousins. The two girls had been friends of Nancy’s for many years. They often accompanied her when she was working on mysteries and always proved to be of great help.

  After dropping Mrs. Carrier at her home, the Drews and Mrs. Melody returned to the motel. Nancy immediately phoned George and asked if she and Bess could spend a few days with her in Mountainville to solve a mystery. Nancy mentioned the motel fire.

  “If you girls can come, please call Hannah and have her pack a suitcase of clothes for me.” George said she would do this and let Nancy know the plans.

  During lunch she received a call from George saying she and Bess could come. They were getting a ride with a relative who would pass through Mountainville about five o’clock.

  Nancy told her father the good news. He wished the three girls luck and added with a chuckle, “Mrs. Melody, I always give Nancy hard assignments and always with great confidence that she will come up with the right answers.” He smiled affectionately at his daughter.

  Nancy smiled back, though she did not feel confident about solving this mystery. She had been given the difficult task of learning the whereabouts of a man who had not only disappeared but had left behind a frightening robot!

  She drove her father and Mrs. Melody to a bus stop directly after lunch and then went on a shopping tour to look at fall clothes. If she were going to stay in Mountainville for some time, there might be cool days. For a while Nancy’s mind was taken completely off the mystery as she tried on sports suits. She decided to purchase a tan suit, then bought shoes to match.

  Later, Nancy stopped at the police station and the firehouse to inquire if there was any new information on Rawley Banister or the person who had set the three blazes at the motel. In each case the answer was no.

  Leaving the firehouse, Nancy looked at her wrist watch. She still had plenty of time before Bess and George would arrive, and decided to walk back leisurely to the motel.

  As she gazed into an art-shop window, a man’s voice behind her said, “Hello, Nancy Drew.”

  She turned to face a stranger. Nancy was sure she had never seen him before.

  “I guess you don’t remember me,” said the tall, thin man with a rather pinched face. He was in his thirties, Nancy judged, and the thought also ran through her mind that he could use a good meal!

  He laughed and said, “I met you at Emerson College, where I used to teach. I’m Clyde Mead.”

  Still Nancy could not remember him. Emerson was the school her friend Ned Nickerson attended and she had been to many football games and house parties there. She tried her best to recall this man but failed.

  “You’re not at the college now?” Nancy asked.

  “No.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a professional fundraiser. At present I’m working on an appeal you’ll certainly be interested in.”

  The longer the man talked, the more suspicious Nancy became of his former connection with Emerson College and of his sincerity. She decided to get away from him as quickly as possible.

  CHAPTER IV

  The Annoying Salesman

  DETERMINED to end the conversation, Nancy turned and said to Mr. Mead, “I must go back to the motel now.” She looked at her watch. “I’m expecting friends soon.”

  Nancy’s hopes of getting rid of the man vanished. Taking her arm and smiling most ingratiatingly, he said, “Let me take you there. I’m so glad I ran into you again.”

  Not wishing to make a scene on the street, Nancy allowed Mr. Mead to accompany her, but casually shook off his hand. When they
reached the motel, he walked into the lobby with her.

  “Oh good!” he said. “They’re serving tea. Suppose you and I sit down and have some. I know you’ll be interested in what I’m doing. I’ll tell you about it. Have you ever been on an Indian reservation?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know that many of the Indians make only a bare living from farming, and their children lack many comforts of life.”

  Though concerned about the plight of the Indians, Nancy was exasperated by the man’s aggressive manner. Just as she decided that the only way to get rid of Mr. Mead was to go to her room, he summoned a waitress and ordered two cups of tea and a plate of cookies. The young detective’s face reddened in anger, but again she did not want to call attention to herself and reluctantly sat down.

  Once more she looked at her watch. If only Bess and George would come and free her from this man! There was still half an hour before they would arrive.

  Mr. Mead said, “My sympathy for the children on the reservations was aroused during a recent trip out West. The poor little ones need so many things—clothing, books, games, toys, and even food.”

  He pulled a pamphlet from his pocket. Distress and poverty were shown in a series of pictures.

  “Aren’t they pathetic?” he asked. “Miss Drew, surely you can’t refuse to help them. I know a fine little fellow who could use some money from you to buy clothes and food.”

  Nancy was touched by the depressing pictures, but did not reply. As she looked off into space, she was relieved to see Bess and George coming through the front door.

  Nancy jumped up, saying, “Excuse me, Mr. Mead. My friends have arrived.”

  She rushed over to the two girls and hugged them. Bess, blond and pretty, was slightly plump. George, slender and athletic-looking, enjoyed her boyish name. She too was attractive and had short black hair.

  “You made good time!” Nancy exclaimed.

  “Not much traffic,” Bess replied. “My aunt knew a shortcut, and here we are!”

  Nancy had not noticed that Clyde Mead had followed her. Bess and George looked at Nancy in surprise.