The Mystery at Lilac Inn (7 page)

“Why, I was in Benton at eleven o’clock!” Nancy exclaimed. “I wasn’t the girl you talked to!”

John looked dumfounded. “But the girl sounded and looked exactly like you.” He added that he had taken a sandwich with him to the orchard, but left at one-thirty, deciding that Nancy had changed her mind.

Emily caught her breath. “Oh, Nancy! It must have been the girl who is impersonating you!”

John nodded somberly. “I’m afraid so. I sure was fooled. And someone wanted to get you away from here and even harm you, perhaps fatally!”

Helen looked distressed, and Mrs. Willoughby wrung her hands. “We must report all this to the police immediately. No one at Lilac Inn is safe.”

Emily, though concerned, still held back. “Please—not until Dick gets home tomorrow. In the meantime, Nancy may solve the mystery.”

Her aunt reluctantly agreed. Nancy had been silent, trying to fit the various elements of the puzzle together. It was evident to her that her “twin” had firsthand knowledge as to where she and others at the inn would be at certain times. Nancy was certain the girl’s actions further indicated accomplices, and dangerous ones at that, judging from the spear thrower. Offhand, Nancy could not imagine anyone at the inn being involved in such scheming, not even Maud.

“Has anything else been stolen?” she asked abruptly.

“I haven’t heard of any losses,” Emily replied.

“What’s the next move, Detective Drew?” Helen spoke up.

“I’m not sure,” Nancy replied thoughtfully. “But I do agree, for the time being, it would be best not to have the police investigate either the river or the inn. Since our enemies apparently want me out of the way, it must mean they want to stay here. Let’s hope we can catch them before they decide to leave!”

John changed the subject. “I’d like to investigate the place in the river where you saw that ‘shark,’ Nancy. Also, I’ll try to find out who used the inn’s canoe. See you later.”

Nancy returned to her cottage. She put away the skin-diving gear and set the spear in the closet.

“I’d better hang on to this for evidence, even though there probably aren’t any fingerprints on it except mine.”

She took out her pink dress. It looked crisp and fresh.

“My impersonator sure is a quick-change artist,” Nancy thought. “She must have let herself into the cottage while I was in Benton, and returned the dress while I was at lunch.

“I’d better lock every window and put a padlock on the door,” she determined, selecting a green cotton dress to wear, “and also make some inquiries around here. Maybe someone saw a girl enter this cabin.”

A newspaper Helen had bought that morning lay on a table. Absently Nancy looked at the first page. Suddenly her eyes widened. With interest she read a report about a red panel truck having been stolen two days before.

“An identifying mark,” she read further, “is a chrome eagle ornament on the hood. The truck is believed to be in the vicinity of Benton.”

Was this the truck which had forced her car into the ditch? Lieutenant Brice must have pursued her lead, and found out that the vehicle had been stolen.

“No wonder the driver was in such a hurry!” Nancy thought as she left the cottage.

On the way to join the others, Nancy had a sudden hunch. Mary Mason had left the inn abruptly, with the flimsy excuse that the place was haunted. “I never pursued that lead,” the young sleuth told herself. “Anna was here then. Maybe she knows where Mary Mason is.”

Before joining her friends, Nancy hurried to the kitchen to talk to Anna. The waitress was not there. A strange girl came up to her, and introduced herself as Jean Holmes. Jean’s complexion was very pale, and her brown hair thick and combed close to her face. She wore heavy glasses.

“Can I help you?” she asked, smiling shyly.

Nancy inquired where Anna was. Jean said she had gone to the storage cellar. Nancy went downstairs and found Anna bringing out a supply of preserved fruits and jellies.

“Anna,” Nancy said, “I’m trying to locate Mary Mason who used to work here. Do you know her home address?”

Anna shook her head, but said she would inquire among the other waitresses who had been there when Mary was.

“Thank you,” said Nancy, and went to join her group on the patio.

She noticed that Maud Potter was not present. At the first opportunity, she asked Helen about this.

“Oh, Maud’s been very exclusive. She stayed in her room all afternoon.” Helen added dryly, “She hasn’t been missed.”

Maud did show up later and went to the dining room with the group. Nancy asked John if he had been rewarded in his sleuthing.

He shook his head. “I saw no ‘sharks,” and no one here admits to having used the canoe.”

This reminded Nancy of the fisherman she had seen on the river. Because of his hat, she had not been able to tell if his hair was crew cut. But she wondered if he might be the man Helen had seen after the girls’ canoe had capsized.

At the supper table Nancy confided this idea to her friend in a low tone. Helen wrinkled her brow. “From the general impression I had of Mr. Crew Cut, Nancy, he could be the same one. But of course I only saw him from a distance.”

Both girls became aware that Maud was eying them closely. “Planning another skin-diving excursion, Nancy?” the woman asked sarcastically.

Mrs. Willoughby hurriedly put in, “Oh, yes. I told Maud the latest—er—troubles.”

“I should hope so!” Maud said sharply. “If there are dangerous people lurking around here, I’d like to be warned.”

“Nancy’s the one in danger,” Emily reminded Maud coldly.

To change the subject, Nancy observed, “The new waitress, Jean Holmes, seems to be very efficient.”

Maud tossed her head. “I do have an instinct about people, you know.” But she was clearly pleased at Nancy’s remark.

After supper Nancy was leaving the room with the others when Anna came up behind her. “I have some information for you, Miss Drew,” the waitress whispered. “Mary Mason mostly kept to herself, but Kitty, one of the girls, thinks Mary commuted to Dockville every night. She also remembers that Mary once worked for a Mrs. Ernest Stonewell in River Heights.”

“You’re very helpful, Anna,” Nancy said. “Thank you.”

Nancy went to the hall desk and picked up a telephone directory. There were several Masons listed in Dockville, which was near River Heights. The young sleuth dialed the number of each Mason. Nobody knew Mary, the waitress. Nancy now looked up Mrs. Ernest Stonewell’s address.

“I’ll call her tomorrow.”

The rest of the evening Nancy spent playing a lively game of ping-pong with Helen, Emily, and John. Around eleven o’clock everyone said good night. John walked with the two girls to their cottage and warned them to secure the new inside bolt on the door, as well as the bathroom window. “I’m within calling distance if you need me.” He smiled.

“Thanks, John,” said Nancy. “Every window sill in the bedroom will have a book on it. If any intruder tries getting in, I hope he won’t notice the book, and will knock it off and wake us!”

Before going to sleep, Nancy thought happily that her father would soon be home. How much she had to tell him!

Helen, in the meantime, was wide awake. She tossed and turned restlessly. Finally, at midnight, she got up and put on her bathrobe and slippers.

“Maybe some fresh air will help me sleep,” Helen thought.

Despite John’s warning, she slid the bolt and left the cottage, closing the door quietly. The grounds were dark and silent. Helen turned toward the lilac grove.

Suddenly she saw a flickering light ahead, near the grove. Curious, she drew closer. A veiled figure with black hair and wearing a glowing white gown confronted her. The next instant Helen was struck on the back of her head and fell unconsciousl

CHAPTER IX

The Search

BACK in the cottage, Nancy was awakened by an insistent ticking. She sat up and glanced in annoyance at her alarm clock. It certainly seemed noisy.

Suddenly Nancy realized that her friend’s bed was empty. “Helen?” she called, thinking that perhaps the other girl had gone to get a glass of water. There was no reply.

“Where can Helen be at one-thirty in the morning?” Nancy asked herself. Hurriedly she put on robe and slippers and picked up her flashlight. When she found the front door of the cottage unbolted, she felt a pang of alarm.

Outside, Nancy searched the cottage area, calling her friend’s name again and again. No response. Finally, thoroughly alarmed, Nancy decided to ask John for help. She knocked on his door. No answer. Perplexed, Nancy was about to leave when a twig crackled a short distance away. She turned off her flashlight and crouched behind a low shrub. Who was approaching? She was relieved a moment later to discern the familiar outline of John.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Nancy exclaimed, hurrying toward him. “Have you seen Helen?” she asked. “I woke up and found her gone.”

“No, I haven’t seen her,” John replied. “I couldn’t sleep so I walked down the road. Come on. We’ll both look.”

They started across the lawn.

“Let’s check the inn first,” Nancy proposed. “Maybe Helen’s there.”

The grounds seemed eerie in the moonless night as the couple walked quietly, beaming their flashes ahead of them. They circled the inn. The place was completely dark, with the exception of the tiny night light in the main lobby.

Nancy suggested they try all the doors. “If one is unlocked, it may mean Helen is inside.”

The front, rear, patio, and kitchen doors were securely bolted from the inside.

“Perhaps Helen couldn’t sleep and went for a walk near the river,” John suggested.

Quickly he and Nancy went to the waterfront. Starting with the area near the dock, they proceeded along the bank, calling Helen’s name. As they came to the lilac grove, John said:

“I don’t think—”

He was interrupted by a low moan which came from beyond a lilac bush. The couple hurried toward it, with Nancy focusing the beam of her flashlight on the ground.

“Helen!” she exclaimed in horror.

Before them lay her friend, unconscious.

Quickly Nancy and John knelt beside Helen. John held the flashlight while Nancy made a rapid examination. Helen’s pulse was normal, but there was an ugly lump on the back of her head.

John looked grim as Nancy chafed Helen’s wrists. “She must have been struck by a blunt instrument,” he said.

Helen’s eyelids flickered open. For a moment the girl looked terrified, then smiled feebly as she recognized John and Nancy.

“Wh-what happened?” she murmured.

“Don’t talk,” Nancy said soothingly, but Helen insisted upon sitting up.

“Oh, my head!” she groaned, and leaned against Nancy.

A few minutes later the injured girl was able to talk. She explained about leaving the cabin and walking toward the lilac grove, then told of the strange figure in white she had seen.

Helen described the long translucent robe the figure had worn. “The last thing I saw was that ghostly figure waving her arms back and forth, as if signaling to someone. Then I was struck on the head and blacked out.”

“Don’t talk any more now,” said John, as Helen sighed wearily. “We’ll go back to the cottage and Nancy will put you to bed.”

John carried Helen, and with Nancy’s guiding light, headed toward the cottage. They had hardly started when the trio was startled by a loud
boo-oo-m!
It seemed to come from the direction of the cottages!

“That sounded like an explosion!” cried Nancy. She broke into a run.

John, carrying Helen, followed as fast as he could. A moment later Nancy heard a crackling noise and smelled smoke.

“John!” Nancy cried in horror. “Look! Our cottage is on fire!”

The young people stared ahead in dismay. Tongues of orange-red flames were indeed shooting upward from the girls’ cottage! The trio could already feel the heat from the blaze.

“We’ll have to douse it,” John said tensely. “The whole row will burn down if we wait for the fire department.”

Helen insisted she was strong enough to walk. “I can help!”

John raced to the side of the inn where an extension water hose was attached. “Get the buckets near the kitchen door!” he shouted to the girls.

They dashed toward the inn. At the same time, the hall lights came on and the front door was flung open. Emily, Maud, and Mrs. Willoughby, dressed in robes, rushed out. Behind them was Mr. Daly, carrying a Revolutionary War musket!

Each group was amazed to see the other but Nancy took no time asking questions. “Our cottage is on fire!” she announced.

Soon everyone joined in tossing bucket after bucket of water from a garden spigot onto the blaze. John played a steady stream from the hose. Gradually the blaze was reduced to embers.

“Glad we saved the other units, anyhow,” John said, glancing at the ruined guest cottage. “Too bad you girls lost all your clothes.”