The Clue of the Tapping Heels
One officer said, “What I’d like to know is his motive for starting the fire. It’s rather farfetched, but it is possible that someone who was turned down for a part in the play became disgruntled and wanted revenge. Mr. Skank, do you by any chance know of such a person?”
“No,” the director answered quickly. “But I understand there’s a gang of firebugs around here. I’m inclined to think those bad boys are responsible.”
By this time the odor from the smoke had permeated the stage. Between this unpleasantness and the fact that many of the players were upset by the unfortunate affair, the director dismissed them all for the night.
“I’m glad to go,” Nancy said to Ned. “I couldn’t possibly have rehearsed my part. All I want to do is get home and shampoo my hair. It smells of smoke and my clothes do too.”
Then she changed the subject. “If the arsonist was Gus, why do you think he did it? And why did he take such drastic measures?”
Ned reminded Nancy that a person with Gus’s reputation was unpredictable.
“He could be capable of almost anything. It’s my guess he’s trying to harm you or me, Nancy, so you won’t be able to continue with the case. Then he’d be free to carry on his tapping without interruption.”
Nancy frowned. “You mean he would go so far as to hope you’d run downstairs to the fire and I’d follow? If we didn‘t, he’d let the fire eat up through the stage and maybe harm people?”
“Who knows what that idiot had in mind?” Ned remarked angrily.
“Do you think he locked the door?”
“Yes.”
When they reached the Drew house, Nancy’s father was just driving in from a meeting he had attended. He was amazed that the rehearsal was over so early, but even more amazed when he heard the reason for it.
“I don’t like what’s going on,” Mr. Drew said. “By the way, I have learned nothing more about Gus Woonton or his parents or the whereabouts of any of them.”
Nancy suggested that they look through Gus’s diary to see if they could find any clues. She brought the book down from her bedroom and the three took turns reading from it while they ate some cookies and Coke Nancy had brought in.
“I’d say Gus is lucky to be out of prison,” Ned remarked, after reading several items. “Man, the things he pulled, even as a kid!”
Mr. Drew nodded. “I don’t see how his parents stood it. And Gus was pretty cool about it all. Listen to this item:
‘August 28—We’re still at the Grand Hotel and everybody in it bores me. This morning I sneaked off before breakfast and helped myself to a motorboat. Boy, did I have fun! Scared a lot of people on the lake half out of their wits. I pulled in near a dock where I saw a man’s clothes. Guess he’d gone swimming. And there was a wallet; just waiting for me to take it!’
“I’d say the guy is an egomaniac,” the lawyer added.
The last notation in the diary, Mr. Drew pointed out, had been written four years before on the day Gus had been taken to the Beverly. This puzzled Nancy. If Gus had recently visited his old home, why hadn’t he written this in his diary?
“Maybe it’s a friend of Gus’s who comes there,” she said. “Dad, would you find out from the Beverly whether Gus had a pal who might have left there about the same time he did?”
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” her father promised.
Ned said he must leave. “Nancy, if you don’t need my car any more, I’ll take it.”
“All right. I guess there’s no use in my trying to fool anyone.”
The following morning Nancy hurried down to the kitchen to prepare her father’s breakfast. While the oatmeal was cooking, Nancy decided to check a couple of items in the diary. She had put it on a table in the living room.
“Why, it’s gone!” Nancy exclaimed when she saw the book was not on the table.
After a moment’s thought she decided that her father probably had taken it upstairs when he went to bed. But a few minutes later, when he came down to breakfast, Mr. Drew said he had not carried it to his room.
“I didn’t touch it.”
Father and daughter stared at each other for several seconds. “It must have been stolen!” Nancy said slowly.
The Drews quickly checked doors and windows. All were locked and chains on the front and back doors were in place. Nothing else had been taken.
“Someone got in here somehow,” the lawyer said, setting his jaw firmly.
Puzzled, Nancy and her father ran upstairs. The only windows which were open were those in their bedrooms. The Drews could find no evidence on any of them that an intruder had entered the house. The screens were locked in place and there were no holes in them. Furthermore, no personal property had been removed.
Nancy hurried to the third floor, followed by her father. Certainly someone had gained access to the house.
Nancy said, “Since the intruder wanted the diary, it’s apparent he was Gus or a friend of his.”
“It looks that way,” Mr. Drew agreed.
No burglar was in sight but a window at the far end of the attic was wide open. There was no screen in it.
“We never leave that window open,” said Nancy.
“But only a human fly could climb up here on the outside!” Mr. Drew declared.
CHAPTER IX
Suspicious Salesman
As Nancy hurried to the open attic window, she wondered if someone might be clinging to the sill and trying to hide. There were no fingers showing and cautiously she looked out.
“See anything?” Mr. Drew asked, joining her.
“Nobody in sight,” Nancy replied. “But, Dad, look! Here’s a natural ladder.”
She pointed to a stout trellis which ran from the ground to the roof.
“A lot of those leaves have been torn off,” Nancy said. “I guess the intruder came up this way.”
“He’s still a human fly,” her father remarked. “The man could have fallen and broken his neck. He must be mighty sure of himself to have attempted such a climb.”
A thought came to Nancy’s mind. “Dad, it never occurred to me to look for a trellis at Miss Carter’s. Maybe the tapper gets into her attic that way.”
“Let me know what you find,” the lawyer said.
Before leaving for his office, Mr. Drew decided to board up the attic window. He found a piece of wood in the garage and soon had it in place.
“I’m glad you did that instead of ripping the vines off the house,” Nancy said as they ate breakfast. “The ivy looks so pretty.”
Later, as she was clearing the table, Nancy realized that actually she was not very safe from her pursuer. Despite all her precautions, he knew she had brought the diary home. That meant the tapper or someone else who slept in the secret room had discovered that the diary was missing.
“I still have that cupboard key in my purse,” Nancy reminded herself. “Someone may try to snatch it.”
She decided to put the key on a ribbon and hang it around her neck. An hour later, with warnings from her father still ringing in her ears, Nancy drove away. She locked herself in the convertible and turned on the air conditioner. As she rode along, Nancy began to feel easier. No one seemed to be following her.
Upon arriving at Miss Carter‘s, Nancy parked the car in the driveway and then walked all the way around the house. No vines were growing on it and there was nothing else to which a person might cling in order to climb any of the walls.
“Well, there goes my theory about the human fly,” she thought. “But how does that tapper get into the house?”
She found Miss Carter and Hannah Gruen very upset. Five more cats had been stolen during the night!
“The garage was securely locked,” the actress said. “Someone has a skeleton key, that’s sure. I must have a padlock put on the door. Fortunately my little beauties that are to go to the show had been brought into the house—I wanted to help with the grooming—so they weren’t taken.”
“Did you call the police?” Nancy asked.
> “Oh, yes,” Miss Carter answered. “Detective Keely came. He made a thorough search of the grounds and came up with one good clue.”
“What was that?”
“The thief was a short, stocky man who wore spiked golf shoes. There were holes in the ground outside the garage but not inside it,” Miss Carter went on. “Maybe the thief took off his shoes before he went in for the cats, but in any case you couldn’t detect the marks in the hay.”
Nancy asked where the footprints led and learned they crossed the neighbor’s back yard and went out to the street.
The conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Nancy offered to go downstairs and answer it. To her surprise Bess and George stood there. They had borrowed the Marvin car.
“Hi!” they both said, and Bess added, “You didn’t expect us to get back in time for the cat show, did you?”
George grinned. “What’s more, we just couldn’t stay away from the mystery any longer. We didn’t pick up any clues, though, to Gus Woonton.”
“Girls,” said Nancy, “the cat thief was here last night and took five more Persians.”
“Oh, no!” Bess cried out.
“See what happens when we’re not here to guard the garage?” George remarked.
Bess looked sober. Hesitatingly she confessed that on the drive to Berryville she had told George she would not sleep in the garage another night.
“But I guess I’ll have to change my mind,” Bess said. “I’m terribly sorry to hear about the theft.”
“Fortunately the cats to be sold at the cat show today were in the house,” Nancy told her chums.
The three girls went upstairs. “I’m delighted you’re back,” said Miss Carter. Upon learning that the cousins would take up their vigil in the garage that evening, she added, “You’re dolls, both of you.”
Presently Nancy said, “I suppose we should start soon for the cat show. How many miles is it to South Bedford, Miss Carter?”
“I’d say about twenty.”
Hannah Gruen offered to pack a lunch for the girls and went down to the kitchen.
During the next hour Miss Carter directed the preparations for the trip to the show. Five carrying cases were brought into the house. Brushes, eyewash, a bottle of delicately perfumed spray and cans of cat food were packed in a large tote bag. George placed the bag in Nancy’s car and also a sack of kitty litter.
“And don’t forget to take a jug of water and a dish,” Miss Carter said. “Oh dear! I wish so much that I might be there. I hope you have no trouble selling the cats because I really need the money. Oh yes! One more thing. Be sure to put in several paper hankies so you can keep my cats’ mouths and feet immaculately clean.”
Out of sight of Miss Carter, George grinned and whispered to the other girls, “We always have cats at my house. They certainly never get all this attention. They keep themselves groomed!”
Bess giggled. “Mine do too. But then, you and I aren’t in the business of selling cats.”
“Correction,” said George. “Today we are.”
By this time the girls’ lunch was ready. It was put into the car and with wishes of good luck from Hannah, Nancy and the cousins rode off.
When they reached the South Bedford municipal auditorium where the cat show was being held, the girls carried the Persians inside. Nancy stopped at the desk to claim the booth Miss Carter had reserved.
“You have number ten,” the man told Nancy. “As you enter, keep to your right. You’ll find it easily.”
As soon as the cages had been set in place and doors between them opened so the cats might roam around, the girls tacked up a large sign to an overhead beam. It read:
CARTER’S CATS
LOVABLE COMPANIONABLE DECORATIVE
PUREBRED PERSIANS
Visitors to the show began to stop and admire Miss Carter’s cats.
“They’re perfectly beautiful!” one woman exclaimed. “I wish I could buy one, but I travel a great deal and couldn’t take care of it.”
A couple stopped. The woman said to the man, “Oh, Claude dear, I’d love to have one of these. What do you say?”
“Nothing doing,” he answered rather roughly. “Those long-haired cats get hairs all over the place.” He took the woman’s arm and pulled her away from the booth.
Bess sighed. “At this rate maybe we’ll have to take all these cats back home.”
“Don’t be discouraged,” Nancy said. “We’ve been here only fifteen minutes.”
At that moment three judges—two women and a man—walked up and carefully examined Miss Carter’s Persians. A few moments later they went off to confer, then returned, smiling. One of the women placed the “Best in Show” ribbon on Abatha’s cage.
“How wonderful!” Bess exclaimed.
The other woman put a first-place blue ribbon on Rosemond. All the other cats received second-place red awards.
“Congratulations,” said the third judge. “I’m sorry Miss Carter couldn’t be here. Give her my regards—I’m Craig Kendall.”
“I will,” said Nancy. “This will make her very happy.”
After the judges walked away, George suggested the price of the cats be raised, with Abatha having the highest amount. Nancy and Bess agreed.
Many passers-by stopped to praise the beauty of the Persians. One woman asked the price of each. Nancy told her.
“Oh,” she said, “that’s rather high, isn’t it? A man on the other side of the show is selling Persians much cheaper.”
The three girls were interested and a trifle suspicious. George asked the number of the seller’s booth.
“It’s number thirty,” the woman replied. “I remember because I told the man I might be back.”
George told Nancy and Bess she was going over to see the Persian cats, and hurried off. When she returned several minutes later, George was very excited.
“Girls,” she exclaimed, “I’m sure that the five Persian cats in booth thirty are some that were stolen from Miss Carter!”
CHAPTER X
Precarious Climb
AT George’s announcement Nancy and Bess caught their breath. They were sure George was right and decided to look at the Persian cats.
“I found out,” she went on, “that the man had ten, but he has sold five.”
“Nancy,” said Bess, “you go with George. I’ll stay here with our cats.”
The other two hurried off, but as they neared booth thirty, Nancy held George back.
“Don’t you think it would be better if we pretend to be strolling casually and stop to look at the cats?”
“I suppose you’re right,” George agreed.
The girls slowed to a leisurely pace. As they passed the booth, Nancy was sure the cats were Miss Carter’s stolen Persians. They looked exactly the same as the ones the girls were selling.
Nancy studied the man who was in charge. He was short and rather stocky. Was he the one who had worn the spiked golf shoes?
George spoke to the man. “You have some beautiful cats here. I saw them a few minutes ago and went to get my friend. She’s crazy about Persians.”
“Yes, I am,” said Nancy. She asked the price.
When he named it, she said, “Why, that’s cheap for such fine animals. They’re pedigreed, of course?”
“Oh sure,” the man replied.
“Do you have the pedigree papers with you?” Nancy asked.
The man hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “They’re here some place. You buy one of the cats and leave your name and address. I’ll send you the pedigree later.”
Nancy smiled at him. “But I want to see the pedigree before I buy.”
The man’s attitude changed. “If you don’t want to buy on my say-so, don‘t,” he said. “Next customer?” He turned away from the girls, ignoring them completely.
They walked off. “Nancy, what do you think?” George asked.
“I strongly suspect he’s a phony. It wouldn’t hurt to call the police. If
the man has nothing to hide, he won’t be in trouble. But if he’s the thief—”
Nancy stopped at a nearby phone booth and put in the call. The sergeant on duty said two men would be sent to the cat show at once. He instructed Nancy to wait for them at the Carter booth so she could go with the officers to point out the suspect.
“I wonder if Bess sold any cats,” said George as the girls went on. As they neared booth ten, they saw only four cats.
Bess greeted them with a giggle. “Want to know who the real salesman is around here?” she asked, thumping her chest.
“Congratulations,” said Nancy. Then she told Bess about the man in booth thirty and said the police would be arriving in a few minutes to talk to him.
Bess gave Nancy a long look and shook her head. “Everywhere you go there’s excitement.”
Nancy laughed. “This may not end up being exciting at all. Here come two men now. I wonder if they’re plainclothesmen from the police department, or potential customers.”
The men stopped at the booth.
“Miss Drew?” one of them asked.
When Nancy acknowledged her identity, the two men opened their coats and showed police detective badges. They requested her to point out the suspect to them. Bess asked to go along.
“George, see if you can sell a cat while I’m gone,” she teased.
Nancy led the way toward booth thirty. As they approached it, she gasped. The man and all the cats were gone!
“He isn’t here!” she exclaimed, embarrassed.
The group stood in front of the empty booth, mystified. Nancy was sure that the detectives felt that a hoax had been pulled on them.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” one of them asked Nancy.
“Oh, yes.”
“Now listen, young lady!” the other officer said. “Don’t you know it’s a serious offense to bring out the police on a wild-goose chase like this?”
Bess was aghast. She said quickly, “Nancy has done nothing wrong. She’s an amateur detective and we’ve been trying to trace cats that were stolen from a woman we know. Her name’s Carter.”