The Clue in the Crumbling Wall

  She sank down on the bottom step of the winding iron staircase to try to figure things out. Staring straight ahead at the dusty wooden floor, she thought, “This is the worst trap I’ve ever been in!”

  Suddenly she became aware of something in the floor. A tiny crack outlined a space about three feet square. Because of the gloom and dust, she had not noticed it before.

  “Speaking of traps,” Nancy muttered, “maybe this is a trap door!”

  Quickly she dropped to her hands and knees and inspected the crack. Obviously it marked the outline of an opening, but there was no ring or handle with which to pull up the wood.

  Nancy pried at first with her fingers, then with the nail file. The slender bit of steel snapped in her hands!

  “Oh, how can I get this door open?” she thought, looking for something heavier.

  There was not a single object in the tower room. After a while she sighed in despair. The room seemed to be growing stuffy. Or was it because she felt almost ill from hunger? Her tongue parched and her head aching, she slowly climbed the stairs and went out on the parapet for some fresh air.

  The sky became overcast. In a short time it would be almost dark. Except for the occasional hoot of an owl and the intermittent croaking of frogs, there was no sound.

  Then suddenly Nancy heard approaching footsteps. Her first impulse was to shout, but intuition warned her to remain silent.

  Cautiously she looked over the parapet. A man was unlocking the door far below her! He snapped on a flashlight and entered the tower.

  Nancy’s heart pounded. Should she walk boldly down the stairs and try to bluff her way out?

  “No,” she decided. “I’m sure something sinister is going on at Heath Castle, and this man probably is involved. Mavbe I can get out of here while he’s busy. He may have opened that trap door and gone below.”

  Nancy tiptoed across the little balcony room. Suddenly a light flashed through the open doorway. The beam missed her by a fraction of an inch!

  As she shrank into the shadows, Nancy heard the man coming up the iron staircase. With sinking heart, she stepped in back of the door and pressed herself against the wall.

  The intruder went directly to the parapet. As Nancy peered out, he began to flash his light slowly as if he were signaling. The backward reflection of the rays dimly revealed his face. Nancy had never seen this cruel-looking man before.

  Though the young detective longed to watch what he was doing, she dared not linger. Silently she slipped through the door and darted down the steps. Upon reaching the courtyard garden, she hurried to the arched doorway. Luckily it was still unlocked.

  Nancy groped her way through the dark corridor in the castle. A moment later she bumped her knee into a piece of furniture and struck it so hard that she nearly cried out in pain.

  Precious minutes were lost as she carefully felt along walls for a door to the grounds. At last her efforts were rewarded. With a deep sigh of relief, she rushed into the open.

  The intruder went directly to the parapet.

  “What an adventure!” Nancy shuddered. “Now if only I can find George and Bess!”

  Nancy made her way back to the tool house. It was empty. From there she walked toward the main gate, but because of weed-grown paths and treacherous rocks it took her quite a while before she saw the vague outline of a wall ahead of her.

  “I hope it’s close to the gate,” she thought. “Oh—”

  Something was moving through the bushes. In an instant the stillness was broken by the sharp barking of dogs.

  “Can I make it?” Nancy wondered. She leaped for the wall and scrambled up just as the two hounds arrived. Breathlessly she dropped to the other side. Five minutes later she came to the car. To her amazement and delight George was huddled on the back seat. She was half asleep.

  “George!”

  The girl sat bolt upright. “Nancy!”

  “I’m so sorry I left you,” Nancy apologized, then asked, “Where’s Bess?”

  “Gone to get your father. What in the world happened to you?”

  “Plenty. But first, tell me what time Bess left.”

  “It seems hours ago. It’s a long walk to a bus or a phone. Somebody should be here any minute, though.”

  As the girls sat in the car, they told each other their adventures.

  “After Bess left,” George concluded, “I heard a noise in the distance. I hid in the bushes near the gate. Mr. Hector drove out. While he was locking the gate, I peeked into his car to see if you were there. I really expected you to be lying on the floor, bound and gagged!”

  “I was a prisoner, all right, but not tied up.”

  “I’d like to find the boy who took my clothes,” George said grimly.

  “Did you recognize him?”

  “I never saw him before. He was about twelve years old. But I’d like to wring his neck.”

  “I spotted him from the tower,” Nancy said. “He looked like Teddy Hooper, but I’m not sure.”

  George changed the subject. “Where do you suppose that man in the tower came from. No one besides Hector drove in here.”

  “He must have entered from the beach, the way the boy did,” Nancy replied.

  Headlights cut the darkness. Was it Carson Drew? Or was Daniel Hector returning?

  The two girls ducked out of sight. The car stopped and Bess alighted.

  “Why, George is gone!” she exclaimed.

  “No, she isn’t,” her cousin spoke up, coming out of hiding.

  Nancy was already running to the car from which her father had stepped. In an instant she was in his arms.

  “Why, Dad, you’re trembling!” she said.

  “Nancy, Nancy, I’m so glad to see you. You gave me such a fright. Where—?”

  “I’m sorry I made a mess of things,” his daughter apologized. “But maybe you’ll forgive me when you hear what happened.”

  “Tell me about it on the way back. Bess can drive George and herself home in your car. We’ll follow them, and you can take the car the rest of the way.”

  On the drive to River Heights Mr. Drew listened to Nancy’s story without comment. “I’m convinced,” she concluded, “that a group is searching for something at Heath Castle. The walls there aren’t crumbling from age. They’re being tampered with!”

  “I agree it looks mighty suspicious,” Mr. Drew said. “And Daniel Hector seems to be involved. But suppose you put the whole case out of your mind until you’ve had a square meal.”

  Upon reaching home, Nancy went directly to the kitchen. Hannah Gruen, who had been nearly beside herself with worry, embraced the girl.

  “You poor child!” she said. “I’ll fix you a warm supper right away.”

  Hannah hastened to prepare the meal. Too hungry to wait, Nancy helped herself to a glass of milk and a few cookies. As she ate and drank, she related her adventure to the housekeeper.

  “Oh, Nancy!” Mrs. Gruen sighed. “Your love of mystery will prove your undoing! You must be more careful.”

  Mr. Drew said, “I think you’d better stay away from Heath Castle.”

  “Oh, Dad!” she protested.

  “Why not forget the whole affair for a few days?”

  “But time is so short—”

  “As it happens, I’m going away on a little trip, Nancy. I thought you might enjoy coming along.”

  Nancy shook her head. “If you’ll excuse me, Dad, I believe I’d rather stay here and try to solve the mystery of Juliana.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Drew said, his eyes twinkling. “I thought Hampton might prove of interest to you, especially since it was the town where Juliana Johnson was advised to go.”

  Nancy could scarcely believe her ears. “Say that again, Dad!”

  “I was talking with Dr. Gibson in Henryville today,” Mr. Drew revealed. “I learned he was Juliana’s physician. In fact, he told her to take the trip from which she never returned.”

  “Tell me more!”

  “There’s not m
uch to tell. Juliana was thin and run-down, so the doctor advised her to take a vacation. He suggested she slip off to a quiet place without letting anyone know where she was going.”

  “Did the doctor know where she went?”

  “No, but he had suggested Hampton. At the time of her disappearance, the police tried to locate her there, but were unsuccessful.”

  “Oh, Dad, I give in,” Nancy said excitedly. “I’ll go with you!”

  “I rather thought you would,” Mr. Drew said with a smile.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning. Better pack tonight!”

  CHAPTER X

  In Search of a Clue

  WHEN Nancy appeared in the kitchen the next morning, Hannah Gruen said cheerily, “Good morning. There’s a letter for you I think you’ll want to see right away.”

  Nancy went to the hall table to get it. A glance at the handwriting caused her pulse to quicken. The letter was from Ned Nickerson!

  Nancy eagerly opened the envelope. She missed her special friend who had gone to South America on a school project.

  Ned wrote, “I’m doing some interesting work, but I miss you and the fun we had solving mysteries. I’ll bet you’re head over heels in one this very minute!”

  “Right you are, Ned!” Nancy smiled happily as she tucked the letter away for another reading.

  Mr. Drew came downstairs and said they should eat at once and then leave. Nancy suggested that they stop at Mrs. Fenimore’s house. She wanted to ask a question about Juliana.

  “All right,” Mr. Drew agreed.

  Mrs. Fenimore said she was happy to see Nancy again and pleased to meet her father.

  “We’re en route to Hampton,” Mr. Drew explained. “I’ve given your sister’s strange disappearance considerable thought. Apparently she abandoned her career very suddenly.”

  “Oh, Juliana loved her work!” Mrs. Fenimore protested. “Of course, she was tired, but a few weeks’ rest should have restored her to good health.”

  Nancy remarked, “But after leaving here, Juliana never danced again—at least not under her own name. She may be doing some other kind of work. Did your sister have any special aptitudes for something besides dancing?”

  Mrs. Fenimore shrugged. “She loved gardening .”

  There was nothing more the woman could tell the Drews, so Nancy and her father said good-by.

  “You know,” the lawyer commented as he led the way to the car, “Juliana may have married.”

  “But, Dad, she was engaged to Walter Heath!”

  “True. Well, perhaps in Hampton we’ll find a clue to her disappearance.”

  Mr. Drew got into the car. Nancy was about to follow when she observed a thin, sharp-faced woman with unkempt hair hanging clothes in the yard adjoining the Fenimore house.

  “That must be Teddy Hooper’s mother,” she thought. Her attention was not centered on the woman, but on the clothes she was pinning to the line. A blue shirt looked familiar to Nancy.

  “If that isn’t George’s stolen shirt, it’s just like it!” she decided. On impulse she ran over to the yard. The woman saw her coming and eyed the girl suspiciously.

  “Is Teddy here?” Nancy inquired.

  “No. He’s at school, same as every day.”

  Nancy asked Mrs Hooper if Teddy liked to go boating on the river.

  “All boys play around the water,” the woman answered. Then she added quickly, “He ain’t been on the river lately, though.”

  Nancy was convinced Mrs. Hooper was not telling the truth. “That’s a lovely shirt,” she went on.

  “Ain’t I got a right to have nice things, like other folks?” the woman demanded defiantly.

  “Why, certainly,” Nancy said evenly. But she was still sure the shirt belonged to George.

  “You must be another one of those snoopy policewomen!” Teddy’s mother snapped. “Well, I won’t talk to you!” She snatched the shirt from the line and hurried into the house.

  Nancy returned to the car and related the conversation to her father. “I must talk to Teddy when we get back,” she added.

  The Drews started for Hampton. An unexpected detour extended the trip by many miles, and a lunch with slow service delayed them. They did not arrive until two-thirty at the Hampton Motel.

  “Meet me here at six, Nancy,” the lawyer said and drove off.

  The young detective decided there was no use going to the usual places to make inquiries about Juliana, since the police had investigated them years ago.

  “If Juliana wanted to live here incognito, where would she go?” Nancy asked herself. She felt that inconspicuous tourist homes might be the answer.

  She hurried to the Chamber of Commerce and obtained a list of guesthouses. With the photograph of Juliana for identification of the dancer, she walked from one house to another. Some of the owners recognized the woman in the picture, but none had rented a room to her. Finally Nancy rang the doorbell of the last place on her list. After a few minutes a small, gray-haired woman appeared.

  “If you’re looking for a room, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you,” she said before Nancy could speak. “I don’t take guests any more.”

  “I don’t want a room,” Nancy replied with a smile. “I came to ask about someone who might have stayed with you at some time.” She showed the photograph.

  “Come in,” the woman said cordially. “I think I can help you!”

  Nancy’s heart leaped. Could it be true?

  “I’m Mrs. Delbert,” the woman said as she led her caller into a neat, old-fashioned living room. “You are—?”

  “Nancy Drew. I’m a stranger in Hampton. What name did your guest give you?”

  “Let me think. I remember now. She was Miss Flower. Julia Flower. Is she a friend of yours?”

  “Mrs. Delbert, if she really was the person in this picture, she was a famous dancer who disappeared ten years ago. I know her sister.”

  It was Mrs. Delbert’s turn to look shocked. “My, my!” she said. “How dreadful! It was ten years ago that she was here.”

  “Just one more question: Did Miss Flower say where she was going after she left here?”

  “Yes, she spoke of staying on a farm between Hopewell and Plainville, but she didn’t tell me the name of the people.”

  “Is it far from here?” Nancy asked.

  “About thirty miles. Miss Flower said she’d take the bus and walk into the farm from the main road. All she had was a purse and a small suitcase.”

  “You have a terrific memory,” Nancy said.

  Mrs. Delbert smiled. “Julia Flower was the most beautiful guest I ever had!”

  Nancy got up and put an arm around the woman. “Thank you so much,” she said. “You’ve been a great help.” After saying good-by, Nancy hurried back to the motel and told her father what she had learned.

  “You’ve done well, Nancy, and picked up an excellent clue. You should have a reward for that good bit of detecting.”

  Nancy grinned. “As a reward, will you take me to Plainville when you finish your work here?”

  “Yes, indeed. I’ll be through by noon tomorrow.”

  The Drews checked out at twelve o’clock the next day and drove toward Plainville. When they came to Hopewell, Nancy suggested they inquire at police headquarters about the missing dancer.

  She spoke to a middle-aged sergeant and showed him Juliana’s picture. He looked at it thoughtfully and finally said:

  “I don’t know that this will help you, but about ten years ago another officer and I were called on an accident case. A young woman had been struck by a car on a side road and was found unconscious and badly bruised. Hit-and-run driver and no witnesses. She was taken to a hospital in Plainville. No identification or purse or luggage.”

  “Probably stolen,” Mr. Drew commented.

  “She looked a little like the person in this photograph,” the officer went on. “A funny thing about the case was, when nurses undressed her at the hospital, th
ey found several thousands of dollars on her.”

  “Did the police find out why?” Nancy asked.

  “No. She insisted she had drawn it from her savings account because she was traveling. Why don’t you stop at the hospital? Maybe they can answer your questions.”

  Nancy said she was grateful for this good lead. She returned to the car and told her father. They set off at once for the hospital.

  The superintendent received them courteously. After hearing their story, she showed them some old records. No one by the name of Juliana or Julie Johnson had been a patient at the institution, but a Julia Flower had been!

  Only the word “traveler” had been written in the space for the home address.

  The superintendent anticipated Nancy’s next question. “Where did she go after she was released from here? I don’t know.”

  Seeing the girl’s disappointment, she said, “You might talk to Joe. He’s been our maintenance man for twenty years. A friendly fellow. And his memory for patients is amazing.”

  While Mr. Drew waited in the lobby, Nancy went to the basement to find Joe. When she showed him the photograph, a wide grin spread over his face.

  “Indeed I remember that girl. She called herself Julia Flower. I felt sorry for her when she left here in a wheelchair. She was crying her eyes out as the nurse rolled her to the elevator.”

  “Why was she crying?” Nancy asked.

  “I overheard Dr. Barnes tell Miss Flower she’d never be able to walk properly again.”

  “Is Dr. Barnes still with the hospital?”

  “No. He went to New York to head up a large clinic.”

  “How about nurses who took care of her?” Nancy inquired.

  “I remember one. She was nice—Miss Emily Foster. I don’t know what became of her.”

  “Do you have any idea where Miss Flower went?”

  Joe shook his head. “She didn’t say.”

  The man’s information threw new light on the mystery. Nancy thanked him and hurried back to her father.

  “Such an injury could have prevented Juliana from ever dancing again,” she said.