The Nancy Drew Sleuth Book (5 page)

THE front doorbell of the Drew house rang long and loudly. Nancy hurried to answer it.

Peg Goodale, a member of the young sleuth’s Detective Club, rushed into the hall.

“Oh, Nancy, I have a marvelous mystery for us to solve!” she exclaimed.

“Good! But don’t tell it until the rest of the girls arrive.”

They did not have to wait long. Within minutes the others hurried in. With them were Bess Marvin, a slightly plump, pretty blonde, and dark-haired George Fayne, her tomboy cousin, two of Nancy’s closest friends. They often helped when she was working on a case.

After the minutes of the previous meeting had been read by Honey Rushmore, the secretary, Peg was invited to speak.

“As you know,” she began, “two weeks ago my grandfather died. There was no will in his safe-deposit box, but one was found in the top drawer of his library desk. Evidently, he wrote it himself. It was witnessed by a friend, now dead. On the will is a dark thumbprint.”

“Your grandfather’s?” Honey asked.

“No. From prints on file at police headquarters, it’s obvious that the print belongs neither to Grandpa nor to his butler. Because of this fact, the executor doesn’t want to accept the will as authentic.”

“Why?” Sue Fletcher asked.

“Because the will may have been tampered with, or even forged.”

Nancy asked if there was any question about the contents of the will.

“Yes, there is. Grandpa Goodale was wealthy and had told my parents he was leaving most of his estate to them. But in his will, only a small amount goes to them. The rest goes to a couple named Murphy, who worked for Grandpa many years ago.”

Bess Marvin spoke up. “Maybe your grandfather felt sorry for them and wanted them to be comfortable in their old age.”

Peg shook her head. “Grandpa was angry with them. They left him suddenly, right after my grandmother died. He was handicapped, and it was difficult for him to get around. But he insisted on staying in his own house.”

“That certainly was a mean thing for the Murphys to do,” George remarked. “Where are these people now?”

“We’re not sure,” Peg replied. “Nancy, what do you think we should do?”

“Track down whose thumbprint appears on the will.”

“How?” Sue asked.

“First we’ll try to find a matching print. There are no two people in the whole world with the same fingerprints, so the thumbprints are our first clue. There are many areas to which fingerprints will adhere. Hard surfaces that are nonporous show them up best. On a surface that absorbs the perspiration or oil from the skin—like unglazed paper, rough cardboard, and unfinished wood—you can’t really see them. Those prints are called latent, or hidden, prints. They must be developed by using a chemical. The visible prints are usually dusted to make them show up clearly.”

“But you can’t take them with you as evidence, can you?” Karen asked.

“Oh yes you can. They can be photographed, or lifted by means of a rubbery tape to which the powder will stick.”

“Powder?” Cathy asked.

“Right,” Nancy replied. “On light surfaces you dust with lampblack, graphite, or acacia powder. On dark surfaces you use white lead or talc. Sometimes, of course, you don’t need anything, because the finger that made the print had a sticky or filmy substance on it, like paint, ink, blood, or just plain dirt. They are clearly visible without having to be dusted.” The young sleuth said she had been planning to discuss fingerprints during one of their club meetings. “For that reason I bought some putty for us to practice on.”

Nancy opened a bag and took out a small chunk for each girl, together with a paper towel. They flattened the pieces, then George called out, “One! Two! Three! Go!”

Giggling, the members of the Detective Club pushed one finger after another onto the putty until they had prints of all ten fingers.

Bess grinned as she stared at hers. “The circle in the middle of my third finger looks like a lopsided pear.”

“Only you would say that,” her cousin said.

“Hmph!”
Bess replied while George glanced at her prints.

“I see an apple on the index finger, a banana on your pinky, and a chocolate custard pie on your thumb!” George teased her cousin.

After they had compared notes and joked about the differences in their arches, loops, and whorls of which a fingerprint consists, Nancy said, “Now I think we’d better get back to the mystery of Grandfather Goodale’s will with the thumbprint on it. By the way, Peg, where did you say the print is?”

“On the back of the last page. There are three pages.”

Nancy said it was possible the person who left the visible print had not intended to. Furthermore, she suspected that if any substitution of a page had been made, it was the third sheet. “Peg, where is the will now?”

“A lawyer has it, but my father has a copy, even of the thumbprint.”

“Good,” said Nancy. “Would your dad let us see it?”

Peg nodded. “When I asked him if he’d mind my bringing it to the attention of the Detective Club, he said it would be a good idea. Nancy, he thinks you’re an ace at solving mysteries.”

Nancy smiled and urged that the members of the club hurry over to Peg’s home. Her father was there and greeted the girls cordially. At Peg’s request he brought out the copy of the will and laid it on the dining room table. “What have you figured out so far?” he asked.

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Nancy replied. “Mr. Goodale, did you see the original?”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice whether page three differed slightly from the others?”

“No, I didn’t. And I don’t believe the lawyer did, either.”

Peg now picked up the copy. “Nancy, could you tell from this if there is a difference among the pages?”

Nancy looked carefully at each sheet. “The printing on page three is a shade lighter than the rest. It is possible that this page has been substituted for the original.”

“What a clever deduction!” Karen exclaimed. “You’ve solved part of the mystery, Nancy. Now how about the thumbprint?”

Sue asked if it might belong to the man named in the will. Mr. Goodale shook his head. “That has already been checked out. The FBI has a record of Mr. Murphy’s print, and this does not match.”

Peg’s face fell. “So our suspect is no longer a suspect,” she said. “Nancy, what are we going to do?”

The sleuth smiled. “We’re not going to give up. Let’s examine the thumbprint more closely.”

She took a magnifying glass from her pocket. The other girls pulled out theirs, and all gazed intently at the copy of the will.

“All I see are a lot of whirligigs,” Peg said, giggling.

“They’re
whorls,”
Sue said. “And the man has a lot of broad vertical wrinkles on his thumb. Does that mean anything?”

“It could mean,” Nancy replied, “that his hand is almost constantly in contact with water or some other liquid. Name occupations like that.”

“Car washer,” Sue replied.

“Dishwasher in a restaurant,” Karen guessed.

“Laundry person,” Bess offered.

“Bottling factory, like orange juice, or peaches, or cherries,” George added.

“Black cherries,” Honey said. “Remember, the print is pretty dark.”

The others laughed, except for Nancy.

“What’s your guess?” Mr. Goodale asked her, noticing she had become thoughtful.

“It may be far-fetched, but the suspect could work in a dye factory, in which case his fingers could be stained. If he perspired, he could make a dark print.”