Read The Secret of the Wooden Lady Online

Authors: Carolyn Keene

Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Boats and Boating, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Girl Detectives, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Ghost Stories, #Mystery Fiction, #Mystery Stories, #Mystery and Detective Storeis, #Boston Harbor (Mass.), #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #Ghosts, #Clipper Ships, #Figureheads of Ships, #Mystery and Detective Stories

The Secret of the Wooden Lady (6 page)

BOOK: The Secret of the Wooden Lady
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“Ned Nickerson!” exclaimed Nancy. “How nice to see you!”
“Whatever are you doing here?” asked George. “Lose that job you were going to have at camp?”
The young man laughed. “Can’t we relax before going to work? We’re here for a weekend of fun.”
Dave Evans and Burt Eddleton, college friends of Ned whom the girls knew well, were talking to Bess.
“I hear you’ve been visiting an old clipper ship,” Dave remarked. “And there’s a mystery aboard.”
“And what a mystery!” exclaimed Bess. “Nancy, you tell them about it.”
When Nancy had finished her story, Burt clapped his hand to his head. “And I thought we were just going to do some nice quiet dancing.”
“Sounds more exciting to me than dancing,” Ned said. “Let’s go down to the
Bonny Scot
and look her over.”
After the girls had freshened up, they rejoined the young men in the lobby. Then, talking excitedly, the six young people crowded into a large taxicab and directed the driver to take them to the waterfront.
“I wish you didn’t want to go back to that ship,” Bess told Ned. “It frightens me to death.”
Dave laughed. “I’ll protect you, Bess—I promise.”
“If there are any spooks,” said Burt, “they’ll have a hard time handling all six of us.”
George suggested that they take a short walk along the waterfront “for sea flavor,” before boarding the clipper, so they got out two blocks from the ship. Ned walked eagerly ahead with Nancy, while the other two couples—George and Burt, Bess and Dave—lingered behind.
“Let’s leave them to their window-shopping,” said Nancy. “I want to hurry aboard and see if Captain Easterly has returned.”
As the couple stood in front of a cheap waterfront restaurant, waiting for the traffic light to change, a man inside caught Nancy’s attention. He was sitting at one of the tables, his back to the window.
Nancy touched Ned’s arm. “That man!” she whispered excitedly. “He looks like Flip Fay!”
She tried to get a view of the man’s profile. “If I could only be sure about him! Ned, do something for me?”
“Anything you say, Nancy.”
“Go in there and pretend to be looking for a table. And take a good look at that man’s right hand. Find out if it has a short middle finger.”
Ned grinned. “Okay, cap’n.”
Tensely, Nancy watched Ned swing open the testaurant door, step jauntily inside, and glance toward the table against the window.
Ned was acting his part perfectly. He approached the table where the man with the checkered suit was sitting. Pausing briefly as if looking for an empty table, Ned leaned close to the man Nancy believed was Flip Fay. In his right hand he held a cup of coffee, his middle finger concealed by the cup.
Ned, pretending to trip, deliberately stumbled against the table. The man’s cup went down with a bang, half spilling the coffee, and Ned caught a clear glimpse of his short middle finger.
“Sorry,” the youth said, regaining his balance. But the apology was not enough. The person sitting opposite the man rose suddenly, flung back his chair, and took a menacing step toward Ned.
The next instant his right fist shot out and Ned fell backward.
CHAPTER VII
A Suspicious Story
THROUGH the restaurant window Nancy saw Ned fall, then spring to his feet. At the same moment the man in the checkered suit threw back his chair. He and his companion dashed between the tables and through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
“He must have recognized me!” Nancy thought.
She looked wildly up and down the street for a policeman. The nearest one was a traffic officer a block away. She flung open the restaurant door. The few customers looked on astounded at the fracas, while a waitress edged in alarm toward the wall.
“That man in the checkered suit’s a dangerous criminal!” Nancy cried. “Stop him!”
She followed Ned through the kitchen doors, just in time to see Flip Fay escape into a side street. His friend was not in sight, Ned said. In a second Fay, too, was swallowed up by the traffic. Nancy and Ned abandoned the chase and returned to the restaurant.
“What was all the racket about?” inquired a fat little man with a toothpick in his mouth. He said he was the owner.
“I think the man in the checkered suit is wanted by the police,” Nancy told him. “Do you know who he is?”
The little man shook his head. “No. Nor the guy with him, either.”
The waitress who had served the two men spoke up. “They didn’t talk like they live around here,” the girl said.
“It was Flip Fay, I’m sure,” Nancy told Ned. “I must notify the police. It’s too bad we didn’t get a good look at his friend. Why, Ned, you have a bruise!”
The waitress offered to put a gauze patch on his raw cheekbone. Meanwhile, Nancy stepped into the telephone booth and reported to Lieutenant Hennessy the encounter with Fay. When she finished, Ned was ready to go.
“Let’s get down to the ship,” he urged. “I’m more curious than ever about the
Bonny
Scot.”
They hurried across the dock and boarded the clipper. The other girls were waiting for them with Dave and Burt. They said Captain Easterly had not returned.
“What happened to you, Ned?” Bess asked with concern, looking at his bandaged face.
“One hour with Nancy Drew and I’m in combat,” Ned said, grinning.
Nancy told what had happened. Dave and Burt said they were sorry to have missed it. “The three of us could have taken on those two thugs,” Dave said ruefully.
“I don’t like it,” Bess protested. “Somebody’s going to get badly hurt if you don’t stop interfering with Flip Fay, Nancy.”
“The longer a criminal is at large, the more of a menace he is,” Ned defended Nancy. “Well, let’s look over the
Bonny.”
Burt said he and Dave had pretty well covered everything.
“They don’t want to spend their whole weekend snooping over an old ship,” Bess declared.
“Let’s all meet at the hotel for dinner,” George suggested. “And you and Ned be careful, Nancy, do you hear?”
As soon as the others had gone, Nancy showed Ned around the ship. As they descended to the hold of the clipper, she said:
“I’ve never really had a chance to investigate things down here. I’d like to find out how people get on and off this ship without being seen by the dock guards.”
“Black as ink, isn’t it?” Ned muttered, directing the beam of his flashlight over the confusion of barrels and crates and ropes.
“Wait!” Nancy said suddenly. “Put out the light.”
Ned obeyed. For a moment the hold seemed utterly dark. Then, as their eyes became accustomed to the dimness, they could see a crack of light near the top of a pile of boxes. The couple made their way toward it and Ned climbed up.
“It’s a porthole,” he explained. “Not fastened shut,” he added, swinging the light around it.
“Look!” Nancy said. “Something’s caught in the crack.”
Ned picked it up. “A piece of checkered wool,” he said excitedly, dropping it to Nancy. “Just like Flip Fay was wearing!”
“You’re right, Ned, and he’s been through this porthole recently. The cloth is so clean, it couldn’t have been here very long.”
“So this is how the mysterious visitors have been getting on the ship,” Ned mused.
“That’s pretty good proof that Flip Fay and Grizzle Face are working together,” Nancy replied.
“We’ll make sure they don’t come through here again,” Ned said grimly, starting to fasten the bolts around the rim of the porthole.
“Just a second, Ned,” said Nancy. “Will you please look out at that side of the ship under the porthole.”
Ned said there were spikes, but that they were hardly noticeable, being painted black like the hull of the Bonny Scot. He closed and securely bolted the heavy iron porthole.
He climbed down, and together Nancy and Ned examined every other porthole on the clipper. All were locked.
As they made their way to the captain’s cabin, Nancy said she was convinced now that Captain Easterly was being detained somewhere while Grizzle Face and Flip Fay continued their search of the ship for some article of great value. It looked as if a third man, Fred Lane, might be mixed up in the affair.
“Ned, we must find Captain Easterly,” Nancy said earnestly. “Something has happened to him—he needs our help!”
“How are we going to find him?” Ned asked. “You’ve already inquired along the docks, with no luck.”
“I haven’t given up,” Nancy said stoutly.
“Somebody
along the waterfront has certainly seen old Grizzle Face and must know where he lives. Are you game for a bit of sleuthing?”
“Lead the way,” Ned ordered, smiling. Nancy said the only likely places where she and the girls had not inquired were the recreation centers for sailors.
“There’s one in particular I’d like you to go into, if you don’t mind, Ned,” she added.
The youth was quite willing and she led him to an amusement casino. A sign said, TATTOOING DONE CHEAP. Nancy waited outside for several minutes. When Ned came out she could see by his face that he had discovered something.
“The tattoo artist knows your Grizzle Face,” he reported. “His name is Red Quint, and here’s the address of his boardinghouse.”
Nancy was delighted. “Now we’re really getting somewhere!” she said enthusiastically.
They found a cab and gave the driver the address.
“You sure you want to go there?” the man asked, turning around to look at them. “It’s a tough neighborhood.”
Nancy assured him that they wanted to go there, nevertheless. When she saw the house, she understood why the driver had shown some reluctance. It was dingy gray brick with rickety steps leading up to a porch which seemed about to collapse. The shades at the windows were tattered.
“Not exactly homey,” Ned remarked, pressing the rusted bell.
They stood there several minutes. There was no sound of approaching footsteps. Then suddenly a window above their heads was flung open.
“What do you want?” a hostile female voice demanded.
Nancy looked up, and met a pair of bleary eyes in a mottled face. “We’re looking for Mr. Red Quint,” she said politely.
“Aw, go away.” The woman reached up to bang down the window.
“Wait!” Ned pleaded. “We must find Mr. Quint. It’s very important.”
“He ain’t here. He ain’t been here for two days.” She got the window halfway down.
“May we talk to you a minute longer?” Nancy asked. “Please.”
The woman looked doubtful. Finally she stuck out her lower lip and sighed. “Stay there.”
She closed the window and presently they could hear her loose slippers flapping down the stairs. She undid a chain on the door and let the callers into a dark hall.
The daylight from outside shone into the woman’s eyes and she squinted, trying to get a good look at Nancy and Ned. That moment gave them time to take in the surroundings: the dirty bare floor, the plaster falling from a jagged crack in the wall above a pay telephone. The whole place gave the impression of slovenly housekeeping.
Presently the woman, satisfied that the couple were not bill collectors, rasped out, “Well, what is it you want?”
“Do you know where Red Quint has gone?” Nancy asked.
“How would I know?” the woman grunted. She looked suspiciously at Ned’s face bandage.
“Have any friends of Red Quint come here lately?” Nancy went on.
The woman’s frowzy gray eyebrows wiggled. “Yeah. Friend of his come here.”
“What was his name?”
“I dunno. Seems to me Quint called him Ted or Fred.”
Could he have been Fred Lane? Nancy wondered excitedly.
“Is he here?” she asked quickly.
“Naw, he just come and rented a room for his uncle.”
“His uncle?” Nancy repeated. “Is he an old man?”
“Middlin’. He’s sick. Ain’t been out of bed since he come.”
Nancy and Ned exchanged excited glances. “Has he had a doctor?” Nancy inquired, watching the woman carefully.
“Naw. He just don’t feel good. Sleeps a lot. They told me to keep an eye on him.”
“I must see him,” Nancy said, making for the stairs.
“Hey, you can’t go up there!” the woman yelled.
But Nancy and Ned were already running up the steps.
CHAPTER VIII
Fire!
NANCY reached the second-floor hallway and knocked on the first door. An angry grunt from inside told her this was not the room.
“Try the front, Ned,” she urged. “I’ll look in the middle room.”
“Nobody in here,” Ned reported. “Find anything?”
“No. Let’s go up to the next floor.”
Nancy bounded up the steps. The woman who had let them in was slowly puffing her way up the first flight of stairs and shouting angrily. Nancy rapped on a door and listened impatiently for sounds within. She heard a groan.
“Ned,” she called, “come here!”
Nancy knocked again. There was a murmur inside, and the creak of an old bed.
“There’s somebody in there, all right,” Ned whispered. He tried the door. It was locked.
“Get away from that room!” screamed the woman, who was halfway up the second Bight of stairs. “He’s sick, I told you!”
“Can you force the lock?” Nancy asked Ned.
“I’ll give it a try.” Ned backed away, then came at the door with his shoulder. The lock was old and worn. With one more powerful shove he forced it, and they entered the room.
On an old iron bed lay Captain Easterly. His blue eyes were clouded and dull.
“Captain!” Nancy cried, kneeling beside the bed. “You’re ill! How long have you been here?”
He tried to answer her but succeeded only in making an unintelligible murmur.
“We’d better get him out of here right away,” Nancy said, turning to Ned. “You stay with him while I go downstairs and call the police.”
BOOK: The Secret of the Wooden Lady
12.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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