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The Clue of the Broken Locket

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by Carolyn Keene




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I - Key to a Mystery

  CHAPTER II - The Phantom Launch

  CHAPTER III - Mistaken Identity

  CHAPTER IV - The Wailing Cry

  CHAPTER V - The Iron Bird

  CHAPTER VI - The Phantom Ship

  CHAPTER VII - The Bull’s-Eye Window

  CHAPTER VIII - Mean Relatives

  CHAPTER IX - The Vandal

  CHAPTER X - An Exciting Find

  CHAPTER XI - The Treacherous Slope

  CHAPTER XII - Precarious Hiding Place

  CHAPTER XIII - A Spy?

  CHAPTER XIV - The Cricket Clue

  CHAPTER XV - Intensive Search

  CHAPTER XVI - Directions to a Treasure

  CHAPTER XVII - The Mysterious Beach House

  CHAPTER XVIII - The Chase

  CHAPTER XIX - Captured!

  CHAPTER XX - A Rewarding Hunch

  THE CLUE OF THE BROKEN LOCKET

  NANCY DREW and her friends are plunged into a network of strange events when they visit Misty Lake. The very night they arrive, they meet pretty, red-haired Cecily Curtis, who seeks Nancy’s help in solving two mysteries: one concerning Cecily’s fiancé, Niko Van Dyke, a popular singer who believes that his record company is cheating him of royalty payments; the other, involving a family treasure hidden before the start of the Civil War—Cecily’s only clue being half of a gold locket.

  Nancy’s investigations lead her to Pudding Stone Lodge, where the sinister Driscoll family lives. Elusive humming noises, a flashing light in the attic of the lodge, the periodic apparition of an excursion launch which had sunk in Misty Lake years ago, and the fleeting appearances of a frightened girl who strongly resembles Cecily give Nancy plenty of opportunity to test her sleuthing skills.

  Braving a series of dangerous situations and discouraging developments, the alert young detective perseveres in her attempts to solve both mysteries and reveal the astounding secrets of Pudding Stone Lodge.

  “She’s here somewhere!”

  Acknowledgement is made to Mildred Wirt Benson, who under the pen name Carolyn Keene, wrote the original NANCY DREW books

  Copyright © 1993, 1965,1934 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.

  NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-07712-2

  2007 Printing

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER I

  Key to a Mystery

  As Nancy Drew seated herself at the breakfast table, she noticed a door key beside her plate. The attractive titian-haired girl looked up in surprise at her father, who had just pulled out his own chair.

  “Is this for me?” she asked the tall, handsome attorney.

  He smiled. “Nancy, that may be a key to a mystery.”

  “In our house? Or somewhere here in River Heights?”

  Carson Drew shook his head. “At a cabin on Misty Lake, in Maryland. Would you like to go there and find out what has frightened a certain Mr. Winch?”

  Nancy’s blue eyes sparkled. The eighteen-year-old girl had already solved many mysteries for her father and at once was eager to take on a new one. She begged to hear more about it.

  “I have a client,” Mr. Drew began, “by the name of Lawrence Baker, who owns a summer cottage on Misty Lake. He is now in Europe. Before leaving, he arranged to rent his place for two weeks to a young woman from New Orleans, Cecily Curtis. Mr. Baker says she has an interesting story but did not tell me what it was. He asked if I would draw up the rent agreement.” Mr. Drew paused, his eyes twinkling.

  “Oh, Dad!” Nancy laughed. “Please! Don’t keep me in suspense!”

  “Well, Miss Curtis was to pick up this key to the cottage from Henry Winch, who had agreed to keep an eye on the place. I understand he is quite a character—knows everyone and tells wonderful stories. He lives near there the year round in the rear of his small shop where he sells confectionery and fish bait!”

  Nancy chuckled. “He does sound like a colorful character. Confectionery and bait make quite a combination!”

  Her father explained that since it was the middle of September, there would probably be few vacationers at the lake. “I can’t imagine why Cecily Curtis wants to stay there. If you meet her, Nancy, perhaps you can find out.”

  “I’m all set to go!” Nancy said eagerly. “Tell me more about Henry Winch and why he’s so frightened.”

  “During the summer he rents out boats, as well as selling bait and candy. In winter he stores boats for the summer residents, is caretaker for their cottages, and does odd jobs for the villagers. He sent me this key to the Baker place, along with a note, but gave no hint as to what had frightened him. Look here.”

  The attorney reached into his pocket and brought out a plain piece of paper. He handed it to Nancy. The note read:

  Hire somebody else. I’m scared.

  H. Winch

  “This is all he wrote?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes. Here’s the problem. Cecily Curtis is to arrive at Misty Lake late tomorrow evening, but Mr. Winch apparently wants nothing to do with the cottage. I can’t leave at the moment, so I thought you could drive down there with the key and open the cabin for Miss Curtis. I don’t want you to go alone, though.”

  “Maybe Bess and George can join me!”

  George Fayne and her cousin Bess Marvin had been friends of Nancy’s for a long time. The three had shared many exciting adventures when mysteries had come their way. Bess had often remarked that Nancy was like honey with “the mystery bees swarming around her all the time.”

  This was true from the time she had helped her father solve The Secret of the Old Clock to her most recent challenge, deciphering The Password to Larkspur Lane.

  Nancy hurried to the telephone and called the two girls. Fortunately, neither of them had special dates for the next few days and would be able to accompany Nancy. It was arranged that the trio would leave early that afternoon and drive at least partway to the lake.

  By the time Nancy came back to the table, the Drews’ motherly housekeeper was there and had already heard about Nancy’s latest plans. Hannah Gruen had lived with the Drews since Nancy was three, when her mother had died. Nancy adored Hannah, who always did a great deal of worrying about her when she was working on a mystery.

  “Is it okay with the girls?” Mr. Drew asked.

  Nancy nodded. “George is keen about the idea.”

  “I’d expect that,” Mr. Drew commented. “She’s very level-headed and sensible.” He chuckled. “I’ll bet Bess is a little hesitant, though.”

  “Right,” said Nancy, and smiled. “Bess always worries about the possibility of running into danger, but she’s one of the world’s best sports when the necessity arises.”

  Presently Mr. Drew said that he must hurry off to his office. He kissed Nancy and wished her luck. “I believe there’s a nice guest house in the village of Misty Lake, about a mile from the water. You might stay there.”

  By two o’clock Nancy was packed and on her way to pick up Bess and George. First she stopped at the Marvin home and Bess came out carrying a suitcase. She was a very pretty blonde, inclined to be overweight. “Hi, Nance! I’m glad you put the top of your convertible down. It’s a gorgeous day.”

  A few minutes later Nancy stopped for George Fayne. The slim, short-haired brunette with the boy’s name came out of the house, vigorously s
winging a small suitcase. She tossed it into the rear seat and climbed into the front beside the other two.

  After greetings, she said, “Now, Nancy, give us the details on this case we’re going to solve.”

  “First of all, there’s a frightened caretaker,” Nancy began, and quickly brought her friends up to date. Suddenly one of Bess’s turquoise earrings fell into her lap.

  “Oh, this old earring makes me so mad. It’s always falling off.”

  “Why don’t you tighten it?” George asked. She was apt to be impatient with her very feminine cousin. Bess adjusted the screw and slipped the earring back on.

  Late in the afternoon the girls stopped at a motel for dinner and overnight. The following day, they continued on to Misty Lake. In the afternoon, as they came closer to their destination, the three began to do a lot of guessing about Mr. Winch and Cecily Curtis. Finally George declared that their theories probably were one hundred percent wrong.

  Bess changed the subject by saying, “We don’t know a thing about how good the food is in Misty Lake. Why don’t we stop for an early supper?”

  This was agreed upon and the girls began to watch for likely places. On the outskirts of a town called Brookville they came to an attractive restaurant, the White Mill. It was a remodeled mill, with a stream underneath part of it.

  “This is charming,” said Bess. “And look! The sign says fresh broiled lobster. Mmm!”

  “That sounds good to me too,” Nancy remarked.

  She parked the car and the three girls went inside. A pleasant waitress who spoke in a soft drawl seated them and took their orders. “There’ll be a twenty-minute wait for the lobster,” she said. “Why don’t you all go out and walk around the garden, then cross the bridge into the woods? It’s really very lovely.”

  Nancy and her friends took the waitress’s suggestion and went out the side door, which led into the garden. There was a profusion of many colors and varieties of chrysanthemums, late-blooming roses, and petunias. A path through the center of the garden led directly to a rustic white-painted bridge over a rushing stream.

  “The bridge is quaint, but it looks rickety,” said Bess.

  “Oh, come on,” George urged.

  The girls, however, carefully crossed the bridge one by one and entered the woods.

  Bess took a deep breath. “This smells heavenly!” she said in almost a whisper, as if she did not want to disturb any of the wildlife.

  As the three friends advanced, they suddenly became aware of a young couple seated on a fallen log a little distance away. The girl, who had curly red hair, had a troubled look on her pretty face. Her fair-haired companion seemed vaguely familiar to the girls, but they were sure they had not met him. The couple, engrossed in conversation, did not notice the newcomers.

  Nancy and the cousins quietly turned in another direction. Just as they were out of sight of the couple, the red-haired girl cried out, “Why can’t you understand? I don’t want to get married with a lawsuit hanging over our heads!”

  As Nancy and her friends glanced at one another, the boy shouted, “That’s not the real reason! It’s the iron bird that’s coming between us! I wish you’d never heard of it!”

  The angry conversation ceased. George spoke up. “Sounds like trouble.”

  Nancy agreed. “And like a pair of mysteries,” she added with a smile.

  Presently she looked at her wristwatch. The twenty minutes were up, so she suggested that the girls go back to the restaurant. As they neared the log where the couple had been seated, they saw that the girl and her male companion were gone.

  Bess sighed. “Oh, I just hope they fixed everything up.”

  George said, “They’d better solve those mysteries before they get married. A lawsuit and some problem over an iron bird don’t sound good to me!”

  The dinner was delicious. Bess could not resist topping hers off with pecan pie. “That’s a real Southern dessert and I am now in Maryland.”

  “Don’t forget, dear cousin,” George told her, “that during the Civil War Maryland was on the Northern side.”

  “I don’t care,” said Bess. “This pie is marvelous.”

  Just as she finished, Bess clapped a hand to her ear. “My earring! It’s gone again!” Bess declared she knew exactly where it had fallen off. “When I was coming back across that old bridge I tripped on one of the broken planks. Oh, I hope my earring didn’t fall into the water!”

  Nancy suggested that they take a look, so after paying their bill, the three girls hurried back to the bridge. Nancy peered beneath the railing at one side.

  “There it is!” She pointed. “On the muddy bank.” She lay down on the floor of the bridge, her head and shoulders over the side. Then she wriggled forward and reached her arm toward the earring. She could not quite touch it.

  “Hold my feet, George, so I can stretch farther,” Nancy directed.

  “All right.”

  Bess, meanwhile, stood on the edge of the slippery embankment, watching nervously. Suddenly she heard running footsteps and looked up. Hurrying toward the bridge was the red-haired girl they had seen earlier.

  “Wait!” Bess called to her, afraid the rickety structure would not hold the trio’s combined weight.

  But the girl paid no attention. She dashed onto the bridge and ran across just as Nancy managed to grab the earring. At that moment the planking pulled away from the embankment. Thrown off balance, the three on the bridge toppled over the side!

  CHAPTER II

  The Phantom Launch

  BESS screamed as the three girls landed on the muddy slope below the bridge. Nancy and George caught hold of a low shrub, but the red-haired girl rolled toward the water. Quickly Nancy reached out and caught her arm.

  “Are you all right?” Bess called down as the girls struggled to their feet.

  Nancy tried to smile. “I’m sure we look like wrecks, but at least we’re in one piece.”

  The strange young woman did not speak until they reached the garden of the White Mill restaurant. Then she said, “I should have realized that bridge wasn’t safe. I guess my added weight made it give way. Please forgive me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Bess told her, then added ruefully, “Nancy, I shouldn’t have let you rescue my earring. Thanks a million.”

  George declared that if the accident were anyone’s fault, it was that of the restaurant owners.

  “I’ll report it,” said Nancy. Turning to the stranger, whose clothes were muddy and her face tear-stained, Nancy asked if there was anything the girls could do for her.

  “Thank you, no,” came the answer.

  Bess, curious about the girl’s problem with her fiancé, tried to draw her out. Smiling, Bess said, “Maybe my friend Nancy Drew here can help you in a special way. She’s a detective.”

  The young woman looked startled, but she revealed nothing about herself and did not offer to give her name. Again she said, “Thank you, no,” but suddenly burst out, “Oh, I’ve made such a mess of my life! Well, good-by. You were wonderful to save me from going into the water, Nancy.” With that, she hurried off through the garden and disappeared around the front of the restaurant.

  Mystified, Nancy and her friends walked toward the building. They heard a car start up and assumed the young woman was driving it.

  Bess began to fume. “Here we come upon a real romantic mystery, and now we’ll never know the answer.”

  George looked at her cousin severely. “I’m surprised at you. That girl’s affairs are her own business. Why should she confide in us?”

  Her cousin sighed, but said no more on the subject. Nancy went directly to the restaurant manager and told him about the bridge. The man was apologetic, explaining that he had meant to close it until repairs could be made. “I’ve been so busy that I’m afraid it slipped my mind. I’ll pay for the damages,” he added quickly.

  Nancy and George replied that this would not be necessary. They took their bags from the car and went to the powder room of the
inn to wash and put on fresh dresses.

  When they came outside again, Nancy and her friends climbed into the convertible and set off for Misty Lake. It was dusk when they arrived in the small, old-fashioned town. There was one main street with a few other roads branching off from it.

  “Dad told me to find out if some bottled gas had been delivered to the Baker cottage,” Nancy remarked.

  She drove along slowly and finally spotted a darkened building marked: STERN BROTHERS FUEL COMPANY. There was a light in a room at the rear. “Maybe the watchman’s in there,” said Nancy, and pulled into the driveway.

  The girls hopped out, and Nancy knocked on the back door. After a few minutes it was opened by an elderly man who stared at them in surprise.

  “Place is closed,” he said tersely.

  “I know,” said Nancy. “I just wanted to ask you a question. Have you delivered gas to the Baker cottage recently?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “The cottage is locked up for the winter.”

  Nancy explained that someone had rented it for a couple of weeks and she had come to open it up. “We’ll certainly need gas,” she said. “Would it be possible for someone to take a tank down there this evening?”

  “Nope,” he answered shortly. “There’s probably some firewood out back of the cottage. Listen! I wouldn’t deliver gas down there at night if it was the last thing I did. If you knew what I know, you’d stay away from that place too.”

  Bess gave a little cry of dismay. “What’s the matter with it?” she asked fearfully.

  “I ain’t saying. You ask Henry Winch,” the man replied.

  Nancy cajoled him for several minutes, but he stood firm in his refusal to say more. Nancy returned to the car and backed into the street.

  At once Bess spoke up. “Nancy, I don’t want to go near the cottage tonight, either. Not for a million dollars!”

  George grinned. “Never fear. We brave ones will protect you.”

 

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