As he slowly rose to his feet, he said, “I got a right to be here! I was sent to take away this stuff! Let go of me!”
“Who told you to take it?” Ned demanded.
“None of your business.”
Once more the intruder made a beeline for the front door, but again Ned was too quick for him. He threw the man to the floor, knocking the wind out of him. Nancy told Ned about the previous intrusion.
As he lay on the floor, Ned remarked, “You got away before, but you won’t again! This time we’re turning you over to the police!”
The man panicked. “No! No! Don’t do that! I’ll talk!”
Nancy and Ned looked at each other and waited for their prisoner to say something. He got to his knees, then stood up without a word.
“Help! Ned! Help!” Nancy cried
Suddenly there was loud knocking on the door. Could the caller be an accomplice? Ned held onto his captive while Nancy cautiously opened the door a crack.
CHAPTER XVIII
Important Lead
To Nancy’s relief she recognized the newcomer as a guest at the yacht club. Quickly she said to him, “Please get the police! We’re holding a thief here!”
Terror came into the eyes of Ned’s prisoner. He tried once more to get away, but Ned held him in a tight grip.
Nancy asked him, “Who gave you the key to this place?”
“Mr. Basswood. I do trucking for him.” Quickly Nancy shot another question at the man. “And for Marco De Keer too?”
The prisoner stared at Nancy in disbelief. Then he said, “Sure.” As if suddenly proud of his identity, the man puffed out his chest. “Trunk Rasson is strong. I can lift anything.”
The young detective wanted to quiz the prisoner about having forced his way into the Drew home. But he evidently had no idea who she was and Nancy decided it would be better if he did not know. She would leave the assault charge against him to her father.
“I’m still Debbie Lynbrook,” she thought, and went on with her questioning. “You say you can lift anything? Even a very heavy statue?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Nancy pursued a hunch she had. “Did you deliver a life-size marble to someone in Pitman or Pittville?”
“I sure did. And she was a beauty, too.”
The man’s bragging came to a sudden end. A look of fright came over his face. Apparently he realized he had talked too much. He merely shook his head when more questions were put to him.
In a few minutes the customer returned with two police officers. Trunk Rasson was taken into custody. His bravado gone, the prisoner did not attempt to escape and would say nothing.
Nancy took one of the officers aside and whispered to him, “The River Heights police are looking for this man. I suggest that you contact Chief McGinnis there.”
“We’ll do that,” the officer replied.
Nancy went on, “Mrs. Horace Merriam in Waterford will be able to identify him.”
After Rasson and his truck were taken away, Nancy and Ned discussed this latest happening. She remarked, “I believe Rasson was supposed to remove all the worthwhile merchandise.”
Ned frowned. “Nancy, I don’t like the looks of this whole thing. Boy, am I glad I came when I did! When I think that you might have been a prisoner of that—”
Nancy patted her friend’s arm. “You may even have saved my life!” She looked at him gratefully.
There was no chance for further conversation because customers began to arrive. Many did not intend to purchase anything—they were merely curious as to why the police had been there.
To each question Nancy would reply with a smile, “We caught a thief!”
The reactions were varied. Most of the women said, “Weren’t you terrified?” The men would become angry and wish they had had a chance to overpower the burglar.
There were so many people in the shop that Ned was forced to act as salesman. He told Nancy he was enjoying himself immensely.
Shortly before closing time, a man who had purchased a rather large painting handed Nancy a hundred-dollar bill. Mr. Basswood had left a small amount of change in a drawer in the rear room. In order to save time going back and forth, Ned had been putting the cash in one of his own pockets.
He was busy at the moment so Nancy started for the highboy to see if there was enough change in the cashbox. But force of habit led her unthinkingly to Mr. Basswood’s office. Then, realizing he was not there, she started away.
“Maybe the door’s unlocked,” she thought, “and I can find change inside.”
The knob turned and the door swung inward To her astonishment the drawers in the desk and file cabinet stood open. All were empty!
“Basswood has skipped out!” she said to herself and hurried to find Ned. She whispered her suspicions to him, then said, “Here’s a hundred-dollar bill. The painting is seventy-five dollars.”
Ned pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and counted out twenty-five dollars in change to the customer, then said he would wrap the painting.
“That won’t be necessary,” the man said. “I have a blanket in the car I can put over it.” He went off.
There was no chance for Nancy to discuss with Ned what she had discovered in Mr. Basswood’s office. At four o’clock all the customers left. Nancy locked the front door and the couple rushed to the office.
“You’re probably right that Basswood has skipped,” Ned remarked. “And I guess he really did send Rasson here to pick up the stuff. You sure fouled that little scheme of theirs!”
Nancy smiled. “What an afternoon. We have captured a suspect and taken in several hundred dollars from sales!”
“We’d better not leave this money here,” said Ned. “And I don’t want to be responsible for it.”
Nancy suggested that they take it to police headquarters. “And I think I’ll leave the key to the shop too.”
“Good idea,” Ned agreed. “Furthermore, I don’t think you should come back here again without police protection.”
The young sleuth nodded. She locked the door and the couple set off for police headquarters. Captain Turner was there. He took them into his private office and asked for the full story about Trunk Rasson.
After hearing it, he asked Nancy to make a formal complaint against the man so they could hold him. If it was true that Mr. Basswood had sent him to pick up certain objects, he had a legal right to do so.
“I’ll confine my complaint to having been attacked,” Nancy said.
When the formalities were over, she and Ned drove to the yacht club. The desk clerk said Mr. Ayer wanted to see Miss Lynbrook the minute she came in. Ned waited in the lobby while Nancy went to the manager’s office.
“Hello,” he said. “I have a message for you from George and it sounds important.” His eyes twinkled.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Nancy said, smiling.
“The message was ‘We trailed Basswood to the Maple Motel in Pittville. He is registered there with Marco De Keer. Bess and Dick and I will wait for Nancy in the Robin Roost Restaurant until nine o’clock. It’s located across the street.’ ”
“That really is news,” Nancy told the manager. “Ned and I will go there at once. He showed up unexpectedly at the art shop and stayed to help me. By the way, we caught one of the men involved in the mystery.”
“You did!” Mr. Ayer exclaimed. “Who is he?”
Nancy told him and asked if Mr. Ayer had ever heard of the trucker.
“No,” he replied. “I guess his place of business isn’t in Waterford.”
Nancy said, “You’re probably right, and added, ”If George calls again, please tell her we’re on our way.” She and Ned set off at once.
It was an hour’s drive to Pittville. They found the restaurant easily. Bess, George, and Dick had had an early dinner and they talked while Ned and Nancy ate.
“Mr. Basswood did not seem to suspect that he was being followed,” Bess reported. “He went directly to Marco’s barn and picked
him up. Then they came here and are still in the motel.”
Ned asked Dick how he liked being a detective.
“It’s great,” he replied. With a grin he added, “The first thing I found out was that Debbie Lynbrook is really Nancy Drew.”
Bess blushed. “I’m sorry, Nancy, but I gave your secret away.”
Nancy laughed. “The whole story may come out sooner than we thought.” She and Ned briefed the others on their encounter with Trunk Rasson and what they had learned from him.
“You actually caught the intruder at the art shop?” Bess asked unbelievingly.
“We sure did,” Ned told her. “I hope those iron muscles of his won’t be able to break the bars of his jail cell!”
Nancy and Ned ate leisurely. Basswood and Marco De Keer did not appear.
On a hunch Nancy left the others to talk to the restaurant owner, Gus Becker. She asked him if he knew of anyone in town who might own a life-size marble statue of a woman.
“Yes, I do,” he replied. “Mrs. Jonathan King. She has an estate on Tulip Road.”
Nancy was thrilled by this bit of information and also at what followed. “Mrs. King is loaded with money,” Gus went on. “She has a house full of paintings and statues, most of them from Italy.”
“I believe I’ll call on her,” Nancy said. “Thank you very much.”
When she returned to the table her friends could see excitement in her eyes. Ned asked, “You’ve picked up another clue?”
“A terrific one,” Nancy replied, and told them what Gus Becker had said. “It’s only eight o’clock. Maybe we can see Mrs. King tonight. How about you going with me, Ned, while the rest of you watch for Mr. Basswood?”
They all agreed to the plan and Nancy went off to telephone Mrs. King.
CHAPTER XIX
Nancy in Marble
A MAN answered the telephone when Nancy dialed Mrs. King’s home. After she had identified herself as Nancy Drew from River Heights, he said he would get Mrs. King.
“Hello,” said a pleasant feminine voice. “This is Mrs. King. You are Miss Nancy Drew?”
“Yes, Mrs. King. Would it be possible for me and my friend Ned Nickerson to come and call on you? I understand you have a life-size marble statue of a young woman.”
Nancy chuckled. “I’m trying to find one which I’m told looks like me. It’s just possible yours is the right one.”
Mrs. King laughed. “Yes, indeed, you may come. This is the most unusual reason anybody has ever given to see my statuary. Now I can’t wait to meet you.”
“We’ll drive over right away.”
Nancy returned to her friends and reported the phone conversation. “Come on, Ned. Let’s go!”
She said they would return to the restaurant after their call on Mrs. King. “If you three trail Mr. Basswood, leave a note for us.”
During the drive Nancy removed her wig and Ned heaved a sigh. “Now you look like your old self, and more my style.”
Fifteen minutes later he was ringing the bell of the King mansion. It was a huge house at the end of a long uphill driveway.
A houseman opened the door. “Miss Drew and Mr. Nickerson?” he asked.
Ned said, “Yes.”
“Please step in,” the man requested. “I shall summon Mrs. King.”
The house was exquisitely furnished with beautiful tapestry drapes, Oriental rugs, and fine furniture. On the walls of the rooms off the center hall were many valuable paintings. Graceful pieces of statuary on pedestals added to the artistic decor.
“What a gorgeous home!” Nancy murmured.
Ned nodded, then grinned. “Fit for a king!”
Nancy laughed at the pun, and turned toward the living room. Mrs. King rose from a chair and came into the hall. Her eyes opened wide upon seeing Nancy.
She held out both hands to the girl. “I’m delighted to meet you, Nancy. And I think your search has ended. You look exactly like my beautiful statue.”
Then she turned to Ned. “Good evening,” she said. “I’m so glad you both came. Well, I’m sure you’re eager to see the statue so follow me.”
Mrs. King led the way through the living room and a recreation room, then into a large glassed-in sunroom. It was decorated in pure white except for a few green palms and other plants attractively arranged around the room. The statue stood in the center of a plot of artificial grass.
Nancy and Ned gazed at it in awe. How fine and delicate it was!
Ned looked at Nancy, then at Mrs. King. He said, “Nancy could have posed for this.”
“Indeed she could have,” the woman agreed. “I’ve never heard that the statue had a name. I think now I’ll call her Nancy.”
The young sleuth smiled. “Does the statue whisper?”
Mrs. King looked surprised. “Whisper? No. Why did you ask?” She invited them to sit down.
Nancy told Mrs. King the story of the stolen whispering statue, including details of her search for it.
Ned interrupted. “Mrs. King, I think it only fair to tell you that Nancy is an amateur detective and has solved many cases. This is her latest.”
Mrs. King sank back in her chair. “Stolen?” she repeated. “I had no idea!”
“I’m sorry to bring you such bad news,” Nancy said. “The thief, or thieves, had a reproduction made which is very good but doesn’t have the lovely patina this statue does.”
“What are we going to do?” the woman asked. “As much as I love this piece, I don’t want stolen property in my house. I’ll cooperate with you in any way I can to find the culprit.”
“Tell us,” said Nancy, “who sold this statue to you?”
“An art dealer in New York City. He brought photos of the statue and I fell in love with it.”
Mrs. King said the man was Thomas Mott. At Nancy’s request she described him.
Ned spoke up. “He must be Mr. Atkin.”
Nancy nodded and explained that Mr. Atkin was one of the men under suspicion.
Mrs. King said she had paid the art dealer five thousand dollars when he delivered the statue. “He came in a car followed by a truck.”
“Did you see the man who was driving the truck?” Nancy queried.
“To tell the truth, I hardly noticed him. But he was a big man—and my, how strong! He carried the statue indoors by himself and it’s very, very heavy.
“I have always felt,” Mrs. King went on, “that I got the statue at a great bargain. I had it appraised since and was told it’s worth much more than I paid for it.”
Ned asked her if Mr. Mott had brought credentials.
“Oh yes,” the woman replied. “He seemed very refined and showed me pictures of his shop in New York. I gave him a check, which he accepted without question.”
“Well, I should think he would,” Ned remarked, “and I’ll bet he cashed it in a big hurry.”
“Mrs. King,” said Nancy, “by any chance do you still have your canceled check here? I’d like to see how it was endorsed.”
Mrs. King stood up, saying she thought she could locate it easily. The woman went off. Nancy and Ned looked carefully at the statue to see if they could figure out what had made it whisper.
In a few minutes Mrs. King came back. “Here it is,” she said, handing the check to Nancy.
The young sleuth turned it over. The Thomas Mott signature was in Mr. Basswood’s handwriting!
“Mrs. King, this is another clue in the mystery,” Nancy told her. “When a trial comes up, you may be asked to show the check.”
“I’ll be glad to,” the gracious woman replied.
Nancy asked her if she would be willing to have a sculptor from New York City come and look at her statue. “He’s Sylvester Holden, a friend of my father’s.”
“I’ve heard of Mr. Holden,” said Mrs. King.
“May I use your phone to call him?” Nancy asked.
“Go ahead,” said Mrs. King. “I’d be glad to have this thing settled. There’s a phone in the recreation room.”
“Wonderful,” said Nancy. “And please see if you can figure out why the statue used to whisper and doesn’t any more.”
Before going back to the other room, Nancy decided to telephone her father collect. He had just arrived home from Washington and was amazed to learn all that Nancy had been doing.
“My congratulations, dear. I think we should try to keep Atkin in the hospital. I know the superintendent. I’ll explain why and ask him to talk to Atkin’s doctor about keeping him there at least another day.”
After saying good-by to her father, Nancy returned to the sunroom. She told Mrs. King that Mr. Holden would be there Friday.
“I hope to get back myself,” Nancy added. “And now Ned and I must go. Friends of ours are waiting for us in town. And besides, we have to drive to the Waterford Yacht Club.”
Mrs. King walked to the front door with her guests and said again how delighted she was to have met them. She smiled. “I don’t usually say that to people who bring me bad news.”
Nancy and Ned chuckled and they both shook hands with her. Then they went outside and drove off. Nancy put on the long black wig and her sunglasses.
When the couple reached the restaurant, they found Bess, George, and Dick still there. The trio reported that Basswood and De Keer were still in the motel.
“We can’t stay here all night,” Bess spoke up. “What are we going to do about having the men watched?”
Nancy said she did not want to ask the police to do it. “After all, we need more evidence against the men. They could deny everything.”
“That’s right,” Ned agreed. “How about a private detective agency? There must be one in town.”
Nancy made the call and introduced herself as the daughter of Carson Drew. The agency knew him by reputation and said they would send a man over to talk to her. When he arrived the young people briefed him on the case.
He said, “If the men leave the motel, I’ll follow them. Tomorrow morning I’ll phone you, Miss Drew, about the result of my shadowing.”
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