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Authors: Carolyn G. Keene

BOOK: Captive Witness
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“You’ve got me. I’m dizzy thinking about it, Professor. Let’s say it was all my imagination and we can both go to bed early and get some sleep.”
The professor escorted Nancy back to the hotel. When she opened the door to her room, she found Bess and George both sound asleep. Very quietly, so as not to wake them, she got out her pajamas and toilet articles and prepared for bed. But when she lay down, she couldn’t go to sleep right away. The tangled events of the day kept marching through her mind. She hadn’t bothered to unpack because she knew that first thing in the morning she had to make plans to leave the tour and drive to Vienna. Then she could try to locate Kurt Kessler’s missing film before the Wednesday deadline.
On the other hand, she thought, I feel bad about leaving Dr. Bagley when the tour is being harassed and he still hasn’t figured out how to get those poor kids across the border.
Tossing and turning, the girl detective finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the events of the day.
The next morning, she was awakened by Bess’s exuberant bubbling about Salzburg. “Nancy, are you still asleep? Listen, I don’t want to miss anything! The cathedral. The puppet shows. The palace. The concerts. And Mozart’s home. Oh, I couldn’t miss
that!”
“I agree,” Nancy moaned sleepily. “If you did, our little bus driver would probably drive us all the way to Vienna screaming out another lecture about his hero.”
“Right,” Bess agreed. “Now, when are you two getting up? It’s eight o’clock already.”
“Eight o’clock?” came an agonized cry from under a pillow hiding George’s head. “In the morning? Oh, no! Nancy, do something. Stop her. She’s killing us.”
But Nancy, struggling to a sitting position, yawned and shook her head. “You can stay in bed, George, but I’ve got to get up.”
“Great,” Bess said. “Where do you want to go first, Nancy?”
“Vienna.”
“Vienna?” the cousins chorused as George emerged out of the covers. “What do you mean Vienna?” she asked. “We’re not due there until—when?”
“Sunday,” Bess put in.
“And this is only Friday,” George said.
“I know, I know,” their friend said, heading for the bathroom. “Do you mind if I take my shower first? I really have to rush.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Bess laughed, barring the bathroom door. “Not until you tell us about this Vienna stuff.”
“Nancy Drew,” George said slowly, pointing a forefinger at the young detective, “are you going off to solve another mystery and leave us alone on this tour?”
“Well ...” Nancy said.
“That’s it,” George said. “I knew it. And I suppose you can’t talk about it.”
“Only a little bit. Somebody stole a film from the festival that opens in Vienna Wednesday and I’m trying to find it. There. No secrets. Okay?”
“Humph,” Bess said. “And all those huddles—you and the professor and—and handsome, young Eric. What were they all about?”
Nancy raised her nose in the air, pretending total bewilderment. “I’m sure I don’t know what you may be referring to,” she said with a theatrical swirl of her robe, and disappeared into the bathroom to the echoes of her friends’ laughter.
After breakfast, Nancy began phoning car rental agencies and to her chagrin, found that there wasn’t a single car available.
She came back and joined her friends in the restaurant. “No luck,” she said. “This is really awful. I don’t know how I’m going to get to Vienna unless I take a bus.”
“Would that be so terrible?” George asked.
“No. It’s just that when I arrive in Vienna I’ll probably need a car to get around.”
“You could not get on a bus,” came a booming voice they all recognized. It was Herr Gutterman struggling up out of the depths of an armchair that had concealed even his massive bulk. He waddled over to their table and, making an elaborate, somewhat comic bow, he said good morning.
“May I sit down with you lovely ladies?” he asked, and then pulled out a chair before anyone could reply. “Ah, I thank you. Now, Miss Drew, you must not think of taking a bus to Vienna. You have no idea how crowded they are at this time. Probably you would have to stand, and who wants to stand when they are on their vacation,
ja?”
Nancy smiled sweetly. “I don’t think I have much choice. ”
“Ah, but you do, beautiful lady! I myself will see that you get to Vienna in the perfect safety and comfort of my own automobile driven by my own chauffeur.”
At this point, Ned Nickerson strode into the dining room. The sound of the boorish Herr Gutterman offering Nancy a ride to Vienna made him almost trip and spill the cup of coffee he was carrying.
Continuing to smile sweetly at Herr Gutterman and looking over his shoulder directly at Ned, Nancy said, “Herr Gutterman, that is extremely nice of you. I accept your offer if we can leave within the next hour or two.”
Both Bess and George had to struggle hard not to say something, and Nancy felt George’s foot nudge her own under the table.
“Excellent, excellent,” Herr Gutterman bellowed as he heaved himself to his feet. “I will make arrangements immediately and we shall leave—at noon?”
“That would be wonderful,” Nancy said. “Thank you so very much.”
Rubbing his hands with pleasure, Herr Gutterman left the hotel while Ned rushed over and sank down in the vacated seat.
“Nancy,” he said, his eyes filled with disbelief,
“you
are going to accept a ride to Vienna with
that man?”
“Yes,” Nancy replied, her eyes twinkling. “What’s so upsetting about that?”
Ned began to feel hot under the collar. “You and that two-ton creep?” he asked again, his voice rising. “Wait a minute. Let’s back up. Why
are
you going to Vienna today? Another detective assignment?”
Nancy nodded.
“In the middle of our tour? Oh, now, Nancy.” Then he remembered his original objection. “And you’re going with Gutterman?”
Nancy couldn’t contain her laughter any longer and she doubled up.
“What’s so funny?” Ned cried, genuinely upset.
“Nothing, nothing.” She giggled. “And don’t get all strung out. Here’s the joke on Herr Gutterman. I want
you
to go with me to Vienna! Just imagine Gutterman’s face when he sees both you and me waiting for him! You will come, won’t you?”
6
Kidnapped!
Ned’s face changed from a look of intense anxiety to one of such unrestrained happiness that all three girls began laughing.
“Very funny, Nancy Drew,” said Ned. “Very funny. You are the worst tease I ever met. Now what would you do if I said no?”
Nancy wrinkled her nose at him. “I suppose I’d have to drop into a hole in the earth when Herr Gutterman came to pick me up. You wouldn’t let that happen, would you?”
“Of course he wouldn’t,” George said. “He would follow you to the ends of the earth. ”
“To Vienna, anyway,” Ned declared.
The young people split up, Nancy and Ned making their good-byes and explaining to Professor Bagley that they would meet him and the tour in Vienna on Sunday. At noon, they were both standing in front of the hotel with their bags.
Within a few minutes, a beautiful brown sedan pulled up with Herr Gutterman at the wheel. He was beaming happily as he fought his way out from under the steering wheel which pressed against his bulging stomach.
Hurrying around the car, he picked up Nancy’s bags and placed them in the trunk. As he did so, Nancy glanced around for Ned. He was gone! And Herr Gutterman was opening the rear door and gesturing for her to enter and be seated.
“Oh,” Nancy said, “could you wait a moment, please? I’ve forgotten something.” Turning, she dashed back into the hotel where Bess and George were watching the scene through a window.
“Did you lose something, Nancy?” Bess giggled.
“Where is Ned?” Nancy cried.
“Oh, Ned!” Bess said. “You’re looking for Ned?”
“Come on, you two, what are you doing to me?” She stopped. “Oh, I get it. He’s getting even for my teasing this morning. Okay, I apologize. Now please tell me where he is.”
Ned appeared, almost magically, at Nancy’s elbow. “Oh, Nancy, I’m so sorry.” He grinned. “I just wanted to make sure you really wanted me to go.”
“Oh, you!” Nancy laughed.
The two young people hurried outside where Herr Gutterman waited impatiently. Nancy smiled at him. “Herr Gutterman, I hope you won’t mind, but my friend Ned Nickerson also has to go to Vienna. I thought that with so much room in your big car perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving him a lift, too.”
“I’d very much appreciate it,” Ned said, using his most humble tone.
The barest flicker of annoyance passed over Herr Gutterman’s face, but he quickly covered it by laughing loudly, assuring Ned he was delighted. For good measure, he slapped him on the back—a bit harder than necessary.
With great ceremony, he ushered them into the back seat, then trotted around front and squeezed himself into the driver’s seat. He called through the speaking tube into the rear seat. “You will pardon me if I do the driving myself until we pick up my chauffeur. He is on the other side of town.”
“Perfectly all right,” Nancy called, settling back in the plush interior. “What a beautiful car,” she said. “I see that it’s been freshly painted.” Some of the paint had come off on Nancy’s finger as she touched the door.
“Yes,” Herr Gutterman replied, “I try to keep my cars looking new.”
“Hmm,” Ned said, “a refrigerator, a telephone, a television set. Herr Gutterman, you travel in style.”
Nancy noted a clicking sound. Herr Gutterman had locked all the doors electronically. Well, thought Nancy, nothing unusual about that. Dad’s car operates that way. Even so, the gesture made her uneasy.
As they crossed Salzburg and slowed down to enter an alley adjoining an old building, a warning sounded in her brain. A freshly painted car. Why? A ride to Vienna. Why? Hotel rooms just when they needed them. Why was this seemingly innocuous pest so solicitous of the Americans?
Nancy felt a shiver as Ned said, “Nancy, do you hear the engine of this car?”
“No.”
They both realized, simultaneously, what this meant. “Like the black car,” Ned whispered. “The same silent engine.”
“It’s the same car, Ned. They painted it yesterday. The paint is still wet—and the doors are locked. ”
Who was this Gutterman?
As Nancy asked the question, the car pulled up to a doorway and a man dashed out. Gutterman squeezed out from behind the driver’s seat and the chauffeur slid in, turning to stare at Nancy and Ned. They gasped as they realized he was the short, wiry man with the pitted face—the man who had stolen the bus in Munich.
Now the fat man began to take off his coat. Underneath he wore great pads that, as he slipped them off, made him lose seventy-five pounds in appearance. Next he removed his wig and began tugging at his mustache. With blond hair, no mustache, and considerably lighter in weight, he was the same man who had attempted the luggage theft at the Munich airport.
“I can’t believe it,” Ned murmured.
“Well, we saw it with our own eyes,” Nancy said. “And I thought I was so clever to get Herr Gutterman to drive us to Vienna. ”
“Yeah,” Ned said. “Now what?”
“Relax, I guess,” the girl detective said, “while we try to figure a way out. ”
“But there is nothing you can do, Nancy Drew,” came Gutterman’s voice through the communications system. “The doors are locked. The windows are tinted so that you can see out but no one can see into the rear compartment. I can see you by switching on a secret electrical impulse which clears the window separating us. All I have to do is press the button.”
“Don’t worry, Nancy,” Ned whispered, “we’ve got to stop sometime, and there are bound to be cars nearby. Then we’ll yell our heads off. Someone will notice us.”
Nancy nodded and then, as luck would have it, they found themselves side by side with a police car at a red light. Instantly, the two young people set up the loudest racket they could.
“Help us!” Ned cried. “Help! Help!”
“We’re being kidnapped,” Nancy yelled.
But the more they shouted the less effect it seemed to have. The policemen sat, talking casually to each other. Not once did they turn in the right direction. At last, the police car drove away and Herr Gutterman’s annoying voice broke in on them again.
“You shouldn’t shout like that.” Gutterman laughed. “You’ll ruin your voices. It’s futile, because the rear compartment is completely sound-proofed. I guess I forgot to tell you that. In fact, it is airtight. If air were not pumped in to you constantly, you could not breathe.”
“What do you intend to do with us, Herr Gutterman—or whatever your name is?” Nancy questioned, looking at him, her blue eyes now like ice.
“Herr Gutterman is as good a name as any,” their captor said. “My chauffeur is Herr Burger. As to what we will do with you, well, we will take you to a place where you will not be able to meddle in matters that don’t concern you. Whether you ever come back, I have not yet decided.”
7
Hazardous Ride
Resigned to the fact that they could do nothing until their captors, at some point, opened the doors, Nancy and Ned did their best to relax as the silent brown car headed south and began climbing higher and higher into the magnificent Austrian Alps.
Since every word could be monitored by Herr Gutterman, the couple talked of trivial matters while at the same time writing surreptitious notes on the pad Nancy kept in her bag.
“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” Nancy asked as she scrawled a note.
“Charming,” Ned replied as he watched Nancy’s words form on the page. “Charming. And with such delightful traveling companions.”
Ned
, Nancy had written,
they must stop eventually if only to stretch their legs. When they do, let’s remember that I have this.
Nancy pointed to a small, innocent-looking book with a blue cover which she held in her lap. She turned it slightly and Ned saw that along the spine, in the middle of the title, there were actually small holes cut out of the center of two o’s. The title made Ned grin:
Noodles.

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