The Secret in the Old Lace

Table of Contents

 

 

 

STRANGE things start to happen when Nancy enters a magazine contest with a solution to a true mystery. A century ago, an elegant Belgium gentleman, a secret pair of lace cuffs, and a priceless treasure all disappeared. Suddenly Nancy’s contest entry is missing! A day later when another contestant submits the identical solution, Nancy sees there’s a
real
mystery to be solved. Nancy, Bess, and George fly to Belgium in search of the truth. In a chilling adventure through hidden rooms, dark tunnels, and ghostly canals, the young sleuths get caught up in a romantic mystery of the past.

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Copyright © 1980 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved. Published in 2005
by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014. NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered
trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc. S.A.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-07760-3

 

 

 

“Nancy, what are you doing?” asked Hannah Gruen, pausing at the door of Nancy’s bedroom. The attractive, titian-haired girl was seated at her desk writing something hurriedly on a notepad.

“Oh, Hannah,” Nancy said, turning around in her chair excitedly, “I’ve just completed the mystery story for the magazine contest I told you about!”

“That’s wonderful, dear,” the woman said in a motherly tone. “Now perhaps you can get out and enjoy this lovely weather. You’ve been cooped up here for days.” She went to a window and opened it slightly, allowing a warm breeze to rustle the papers on Nancy’s desk.

“For days?” Nancy repeated in mock surprise. “Why, it feels like no time at all.” She winked affectionately at the housekeeper who had taken care of her since she was three years old.

“No time, indeed,” Hannah said, shaking her head. “You’re as pale as the paint on the shutters.”

“The old paint or the new paint?” Nancy teased. The pungent odor of a fresh coat of paint drifted through the open window, and they could hear the scraping of a ladder as a man in white overalls worked on the trim.

“It’s all the same color,” Mrs. Gruen quipped. “Ghost white!”

Nancy smiled. “Aren’t you even interested in my solution to the mystery story?”

Hannah slipped her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Of course, I am. May I read it now?”

“Mm-hmm, and you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m going to get lots of sun today.”

A smile crossed Hannah’s lips as she glanced at the penciled page half hidden by several others. “I must confess, Nancy, I’m very happy about this mystery.”

“You are?”

“Yes, because it’s one you were able to solve in the safety of your own home!”

“Oh, Hannah...” Nancy laughed. Although she was eighteen years old now and well-known as a capable amateur detective, she knew Hannah could not help worrying about her.

Without another word, the girl put the papers in order and clipped them together. “Here you are,” she said, handing the manuscript to Hannah.

“Let me get my reading glasses,” Hannah said, excusing herself just when the front doorbell rang.

“That must be Bess and George,” Nancy said. “I called them while you were out shopping.” She dropped the papers on her desk and flew down the stairs, followed by Hannah. “Hi!” She welcomed the visitors. Bess Marvin and her cousin George Fayne were Nancy’s closest friends.

“Have you come to rescue the fair maiden from her ivory tower?” Hannah said mischievously.

“Guess so,” Bess smiled, revealing deep dimples in her cheeks. “We’re taking Nancy to Pickles and Plums for lunch!”

The Drews’ housekeeper wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure you won’t get indigestion on that diet?” she asked innocently.

“Oh, no!” George giggled. “It’s a new health-food restaurant downtown. We can sit outside and get lots of vitamins A and D.”

Hannah’s eyes brightened. “Health food! That sounds just like what the doctor ordered,” she said approvingly.

Nancy kissed the woman’s cheek, then ran upstairs, calling to her friends, “C’mon, I want to show you the story I’m submitting
to Circle
and
Square
magazine!”

“Can’t we eat first?” Bess replied, following her cousin to the second landing. “I’m starved!”

“So what else is new?” George teased. Unlike Bess, who tended to be plump, George had a slim figure.

“I haven’t eaten a thing today! Really!” Bess giggled as Nancy gave her the manuscript to read.

“Let me see it too,” George said eagerly. “I want to learn what happened to the mystery man. ”

“Just a minute,” Bess protested, holding the manuscript away from her cousin and toward the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window.

“Oh, please don’t keep me in suspense,” George begged.

“For all those terrible things you always say about my figure,” Bess declared, “you’ll have to wait your turn.”

George shrugged. “Beaten again.”

“Who’s beaten—someone in your manuscript?” Hannah Gruen interrupted, joining the girls.

“No, no.” Nancy chuckled. “This is a love story. Actually, it won’t make much sense unless I tell you how the whole thing started. The opening of the story appeared in the magazine. It contains a real-life mystery which every contest entrant is supposed to solve. ”

As Nancy spoke, Hannah sat in the Queen Anne chair opposite the girl’s desk while Bess and George plopped at the foot of the bed.

“I gather from the little I read,” Bess put in, “that the story takes place in Europe.”

“That’s right,” Nancy replied. “It starts in Brussels, Belgium, in the nineteenth century. A handsome young man whose name was François Lefèvre received a pair of mysterious lace cuffs which he wore with a red velvet dress jacket.”

Bess leaned forward with a starry look. “Mm, too bad he isn’t living now. I’d love to meet him.”

“Believe me,” Nancy said, “you would have been only one of many admirers. One of them apparently was too bashful to tell him how much she cared for him. ”

“You mean he never found out who sent him the lace cuffs?” George asked.

Nancy nodded. “François disappeared suddenly with a rather sizable fortune. Neither his family nor friends ever heard from him again.”

“Oh, how sad!” Bess remarked.

“In the fireplace of his bedroom,” Nancy continued, “his servants found burned fragments of letters. Among them was a mysterious note in flowery handwriting—”

“Obviously from a woman.” George seized the clue.

“It was in French,” Nancy said. “Translated the message read:

The rest of it was charred.”

“Did the servants find anything else?” Hannah questioned eagerly.

“Yes, on another shred of paper was the word
marry
.”

“What a story,” Bess said dreamily.

“Does anyone know who sent the lace cuffs to François?” George inquired.

“The story didn’t say,” Nancy replied. “I guess no one ever admitted to being the lace maker.”

“Oh, please tell us the rest,” Bess said, “before you hear my news—”

Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. “What news?”

“We’ll get to that later. Finish your story first.”

“Well, what I’ve told you so far is all that was published in the magazine. Everything else I made up.

Nancy handed the housekeeper her story. “Hannah’s first. I promised to let her see it before you arrived. ”