Nancy's Mysterious Letter (6 page)

“I’m making a long-distance call to you to ask a question. Did you ever employ a governess named Nancy Smith Drew?”

Nancy held her breath as she waited for the answer. “Who is calling?” the woman asked.

“Believe it or not, my name is also Nancy Drew. By chance I heard of Nancy Smith Drew and I’m trying to locate her. I received a letter by mistake which belongs to her.”

There was a pause, then Mrs. Wilson said, “This is a great coincidence. Yes, a Miss Nancy Smith Drew worked for us a few years ago. She’s a very lovely person and an excellent actress. Unfortunately I do not know where she is right now. Once in a while she sends us a postcard or a Christmas message. As a matter of fact, it has been almost a year since her last note, in which she said she was moving but did not give her future address.”

Nancy was disappointed that the actress did not visit the Wilsons, but said, “I’m so thrilled to have located someone at last who knows Miss Drew. I must tell you what was in her letter. She has a large inheritance waiting for her in England.”

“How exciting!” Mrs. Wilson exclaimed. “I’m so glad for her.”

She and Nancy chatted for a few more minutes, then the woman said, “I’m sure I’ll hear from Miss Drew at Christmastime. I’ll tell her to get in touch with you at once. Where can she reach you?”

Nancy gave her address and telephone number and thanked Mrs. Wilson for her help. As soon as the conversation ended, Nancy went back to Hannah Gruen and told her the good news.

“Now I have two good leads. If the coach at Emerson is
not
Nancy Smith Drew, then by Christmastime we should hear from the right one.”

Mrs. Gruen smiled. “I can see why you’re a good detective,” she remarked. “If you don’t find hidden gold under one stone, you turn up another.”

The housekeeper suggested that they take time out for lunch. After eating, the two returned to Nancy’s bedroom to see if the evening dress was all right. Nancy kicked off her sports shoes, removed her skirt and sweater, then stepped into the dance dress. Hannah zipped it up.

Just then the phone rang and Nancy went into her father’s study to answer it. Chief McGinnis was calling.

“I thought you’d be interested to hear, Nancy, that we found the beat-up car with the license number TJ12796.”

“You did?” Nancy exclaimed. “Where? And did you find Edgar Nixon too?”

“No, unfortunately.” The officer explained that the car had been abandoned and was a complete wreck.

“We came across it on that road where you saw the man drive across the bridge,” McGinnis added. “A little way beyond there was a sharp curve and I guess he was going too fast and didn’t make it. But he evidently wasn’t hurt much because he wasn’t around and we’ve had no report from the hospital or any doctors about a person who needed attention.”

“The car really did belong to Edgar Nixon?” Nancy asked.

“We don’t know,” McGinnis replied. “It was registered under another name with a phony address. Maybe the car was Nixon’s, maybe a friend’s.”

“Or Edgar could be using aliases,” Nancy thought.

The chief said if he had any further report he would telephone Nancy. “We’re still looking for a man who wears a camel’s-hair coat and hat, but we suspect that by this time he may have changed to something different.”

“Perhaps,” said Nancy. “But if he had a beat-up car and is demanding money from his brother Ira, I’d say he isn’t very well off. Men’s winter overcoats are expensive and I wonder if he could afford two of them.”

Chief McGinnis laughed. “I admire the way your mind works, Nancy. What you just said is very true.” He chuckled. “I guess we’ll keep on looking for a man in a camel’s-hair overcoat and hat.”

As Nancy started back to her room so that Hannah Gruen could look at the dress, the front doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Nancy called.

As she walked toward the stairway, Nancy realized that in her stocking feet the dress was pretty long. Just as she reached the top step, Nancy stepped on the front of the gown.

She heard a loud rip and gasped. At the same moment, she lost her balance and pitched forward!

As Nancy pitched forward she made a wild grab for the banister of the stairway. Though she swung around and almost lost her grip, Nancy managed to keep from falling.

“How stupid of me!” she chided herself, and went on down the stairway.

Nancy looked at the big rip in her lovely dress. Could it be mended without showing? “Oh, I hope Hannah can do something with it!”

She finally reached the bottom step and went on to the front door. When Nancy opened it, she was greeted by a grinning little boy.

“Hello,” said Tommy Johnson.

“Hi, Tommy!” Nancy replied. “What are you holding behind your back?” she asked.

“A surprise,” he said.

“For me?”

“Maybe. You know you promised me a’tective badge for helping you.”

“So I did,” said Nancy. “Come in, Tommy. I’ll get it for you right away.”

Nancy hurried off to the dining room where there was a closet that held all sorts of knickknacks. Among them was a toy detective badge which someone had given her at a party for a joke. She carried it to Tommy, who took it but still kept one hand behind his back.

“Do you like it?” Nancy asked.

“Sure I do. Would you put it on me, Nancy? After that, I’ll show you what’s in my other hand.”

She pinned the badge onto his heavy sports jacket, then asked, “Have you brought me something exciting?”

“It’s—what you say a clue,” Tommy replied stoutly.

From behind his back he took out a man’s rather worn shoe. Tommy explained that his little friend Billy down the street had picked it up.

“He saw it fall out of the yellow-coat man’s car trunk,” the little boy explained. “He just told me about it. I thought you might want the shoe, so I promised him some candy if he gave it to me. Do you have some candy?”

Nancy laughed and patted Tommy on the head. “Indeed I have and you shall have some as well as Billy. This is good detective work, Tommy. Keep it up and maybe someday you’ll be a police chief.”

“Oh boy, that would be something!” Tommy replied.

Nancy went to get two small jars of hard candy. She called them her emergency treats for just such occasions.

When she returned, Tommy’s eyes expanded. “You mean I can have one whole jar, and Billy can have the other?”

Nancy nodded. “I think you both earned this reward.”

Tommy went off, declaring that he was going to hunt for more clues to the yellow-coat man.

“I hope you don’t catch him too soon,” he called over his shoulder and Nancy giggled.

After she had closed the door, Nancy looked at the shoe thoroughly. She could see no identification of any sort. “But probably the police can find something,” she thought. “I’ll call Chief McGinnis and see what he has to say.”

Fortunately he was in his office. “I’d say it’s an excellent clue,” he told her. “But don’t bother to come down here now. Tomorrow will do.”

Then Nancy climbed the stairs and showed Hannah the rip in her dress. The housekeeper said she was glad Nancy had not been hurt. She looked at the tear for some time.

“You really made a good job of this while you were at it,” she commented. “Well, take the dress off and I’ll see what I can do with it.”

Nancy said first she would slip on shoes with heels to see if the length of the dress was all right. She found it was, then took off the dress. Hannah turned it inside out.

“Good thing this rip is near a seam. It won’t hurt to make the skirt a little narrower. I’ll just put in a whole new seam.”

“Oh, you are a darling!” Nancy said, and gave the housekeeper a kiss on the cheek.

Then she told Mrs. Gruen about the shoe. “It dropped out of the car that we think belonged to Edgar Nixon.”

“Hm!” the housekeeper said. “I hope that shoe gets out of here in a hurry. I’m sure it’s contaminated with bad luck.”

“Why, Hannah, I’ve never heard you speak like that before.”

“I can’t help it,” the housekeeper replied, starting to baste a new seam in the dress. “The man is no good, and I don’t want any of his belongings around here.”

When she finished sewing, Hannah laid the dress down and announced that she would have to start dinner. Nancy went downstairs to help her. She set the table and prepared a salad of tomatoes and cottage cheese.

“I won’t put the steak on until your father comes,” Mrs. Gruen remarked.

Nancy heard a step on the back porch. “I guess you can broil the steak now,” she said, moving toward the door.

She opened it and her father entered. He kissed her, said good evening to the housekeeper, then beckoned for Nancy to follow him.

After he had hung up his coat and hat in the hall closet, he led the way into the living room. The two sat down.

“You have news?” Nancy queried.

“Yes. It’s a mystery to me. Maybe you can figure it out. I had a cable late this afternoon from Mr. Bates-Jones.”

The lawyer hesitated and Nancy sensed that what he was about to say was not going to please her. Finally he told her.

“You and I have been discharged,” he said.

“Discharged from what?” Nancy asked.

“The Nancy Smith Drew Case.”

“You mean they’ve found her?” Nancy cried, astonished.

Mr. Drew shook his head. “That’s the mystery. The cable said someone else was putting them in touch with Nancy Smith Drew and that you and I could give up the case.”

Nancy was amazed. “That’s all the cable said?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty abrupt when you have been so nice to make overseas phone calls to him.”

Mr. Drew smiled. “Cables cost money. Perhaps Mr. Bates-Jones will follow his message with a letter of explanation.”

Nancy thought this over. Intuition told her that there was something quite unnatural about the whole thing.

“What’s on your mind?” her father asked.

“Well, I think something phony is going on.”

“You mean the cable?” her father asked.

“No. But I just have a strong hunch that there might be a fake Nancy Smith Drew posing as the real one.”

The matter was discussed later with Hannah Gruen, who was inclined to agree with Nancy. “Call it woman’s intuition if you like,” she said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t let it drop here.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Mr. Drew said. “I’ll telephone to Mr. Bates-Jones in the morning and see if he will give me more details.”

“May I be there when you make the call?” Nancy asked.

The lawyer smiled. “I’ll make it from here before I leave for my office. I’d like you to hear what’s said.”

Directly after breakfast the following morning Mr. Drew put in the call to London. He had to wait several minutes before being connected with the lawyer there. Mr. Drew explained that he and Nancy did not want to go against Mr. Bates-Jones’s wishes, but were calling to find out if the real Nancy Smith Drew had been located.

“We have some good leads to her ourselves,” Nancy’s father said, “so your cable was a great surprise.”

Nancy, who was seated near the phone, could hear the answer plainly.

“We appreciate your great interest and all the trouble you have gone to,” Mr. Bates-Jones said, “but we have had a communication from an American detective agency that for a fee they will tell us the secret whereabouts of the heiress.”

Mr. Drew frowned. “But how did they learn you’re looking for her?”

“That we don’t know, but we have no reason to believe the firm is not telling the truth.”

“Perhaps I could be of help to you,” Mr. Drew said, “by looking up this agency. It’s just possible that a thorough investigation might be to your advantage.”

There was a long pause. “Well,” the London lawyer finally said, “I think it best not to divulge the name.”

Nancy and her father looked at each other. This certainly was a brush-off!

Before saying good-by, Mr. Drew added, “Frankly, Mr. Bates-Jones, my daughter and I are very suspicious about this. I advise you not to part with any money until the whole thing has been thoroughly investigated.”

There was a loud exclamation at the other end of the wire. Finally the London attorney said, “Thank you for your advice, Mr. Drew. I will talk to my partner about the case and let you know the result.”

When the conversation had ended, Mr. Drew said he must hurry off. After he had gone, Nancy settled down in a big chair to think. Intuition told her she must not give up the case. Yet what else could she do?

Suddenly she remembered something and thought, “I still have another case—Edgar Nixon and the money stolen from Dad’s registered letter, I can work on that.”

THE ringing of the telephone brought Nancy out of her meditation. The caller was Ira Nixon. He sounded very weak.

“Is something the matter?” Nancy asked quickly, fearful that the mail carrier had taken a turn for the worse.

“Will you please come over right away?” the old man asked.

Nancy promised to leave immediately. She went to the kitchen to tell Mrs. Gruen where she was going.

“I hope he isn’t worse,” the housekeeper said. “The poor fellow’s probably starved. Nancy, I want you to take him a jar of the fresh vegetable soup I prepared for tonight’s dinner.”

“I’ll be happy to,” Nancy said.

Hannah ladled some of the soup into a jar. She then put it in a paper bag, but before handing the package to Nancy, she said, “And don’t forget to take that old shoe out of here.”

Nancy laughed. “It’s going to police headquarters as fast as I can get it there. But I must go to Ira’s first.”

Fifteen minutes later she arrived at Ira Nixon’s little white house. The front door was unlocked and she let herself in. The mail carrier, haggard and worried-looking, sat in a rocker near the fireplace. He explained that he had had a chill and one of his neighbors had come in to build a fire.