The Silent Suspect

by Carolyn Keene

  “Maybe she just needs some time to make up her own mind about her future.”

  Mr. Franklin glared at Nancy. “Ms. Drew, that kind of suggestion isn’t very useful. I’m delighted to have you here helping Ned—if you’re going to help him. But speculating about things you can’t possibly understand …” His voice trailed away.

  Finally, Mr. Franklin continued. “I’m a busy man, but Lisa has always had everything she wanted. She has no reason for grievances. Why, I—”

  To Nancy’s relief, Ned walked back into the room just then. “No luck,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried, Uncle Bob, but she wouldn’t even open her door. Maybe you’ll be able to get somewhere, Nancy.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Mr. Franklin. Abruptly, he stood up. “I’ll call Mrs. Truitt to show you to your rooms,” he said.

  “I’d be glad to do that,” Mr. Toomey put in quickly.

  For just a moment Mr. Franklin seemed to relax. “That’s very considerate, Christopher,” he said with a slight nod as the younger man left the room. Then he turned back to Ned and Nancy. “Ned, you’ll stay in the guest room. Nancy, I’m afraid the other spare bed is in Lisa’s room. Anyway, you’ll get a chance to ask her all the questions you want. Whether she’ll answer them, I don’t know.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Bob,” Ned said quickly. “I’m sure that will work out fine.” He beckoned Nancy to follow him out into the hall, where Mr. Toomey was entering with their suitcases. The two of them followed Mr. Toomey up the stairs.

  Ned put his hand on Nancy’s arm as they reached the top. “Sorry about Uncle Bob,” he said quietly. “He sounded as though he was being pretty rude to you.”

  “He seems like the type who’s rude to everyone,” Nancy said with a shrug. “I didn’t take it personally. But I do feel a little sorry for Lisa.”

  Ned squeezed her hand. “I feel sorry for her, too. But I have a feeling she’s not going to make things easy on you. It’s too bad you have to share her room.”

  “I’m not worried,” Nancy said. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

  And even if we don’t, she thought, sharing a room with Lisa will help me find out more about her, whether she wants me to or not.

  Mr. Toomey was waiting for them halfway down the hall. “Here’s your bedroom, Nancy,” he said. “Ned, yours is at the end of the hall.”

  “Okay,” said Ned. “I’ll unpack and meet you downstairs for dinner, okay, Nan?” He smiled encouragingly at her.

  “Sure thing,” Nancy said, smiling back.

  Lisa’s door was closed. Nancy tapped lightly, but there was no answer. She turned the knob and pushed the door open a crack. The room was empty.

  One of the beds inside was unmade and rumpled. Nancy put her suitcase on the other bed and began to unpack. Now and then she glanced around the room.

  The room didn’t give her many clues about Lisa’s personality. The room was decorated in soft shades of rose and ivory, with watercolor prints of famous cathedrals on the walls. The top of Lisa’s bureau was bare, but her desk was covered with neat stacks of drawing paper, pens, and drawing tools. The wide bookcase extending across one wall was filled almost entirely with books about architecture.

  Hmm, thought Nancy. All work and no play. But somehow, even the brief glimpse she’d had of Lisa didn’t fit that description. And hadn’t Ned told her that his cousin had been a lot of fun before she’d started acting so strangely?

  Nancy washed her face quickly in the bathroom that adjoined Lisa’s bedroom. Then she changed into fresh clothes and brushed her hair. It was almost dinnertime, and Mr. Toomey had said that Mr. Franklin hated people being late to dinner.

  Ned was just leaving his room as Nancy walked out into the hall. “Any luck?” he asked in a low voice.

  Nancy shook her head. “Lisa’s not there, Ned. I don’t know where she went. I’m sure I’ll get a chance to talk to her before bedtime, though.”

  “I’m wondering whether Laurel comes into this at all,” Ned said as they started downstairs. “I never noticed before how Uncle Bob seems to favor Lisa. Don’t you think that would drive Laurel crazy?”

  “Maybe,” Nancy replied. “But I don’t want to make any assumptions about Laurel before I’ve met her. Anyway, even if Laurel is jealous, that doesn’t explain why Lisa’s so upset.”

  “Well, we’ve got lots of time to work things out,” said Ned. “Besides, I’m starving. That snack they gave us on the plane seems an awfully long time ago.”

  When they reached the dining room, Nancy was startled to see that it was set for a formal dinner. Gold-rimmed plates, heavy silverware, and sterling candlesticks were lined up with absolute precision on the white tablecloth. A massive flower arrangement sat in the exact center of the table. Above it hung a brass chandelier that was so ornate and heavy-looking that Nancy couldn’t help worrying that it might crash down on the table.

  Mr. Franklin was already standing at the head of the table. There was a look of slight disapproval on his face, as though he resented having been kept waiting for even a few seconds. Mr. Toomey was standing at a place farther down the table. And across from Mr. Franklin stood a serious-looking young woman in a blue dress.

  “Hi, Laurel!” said Ned, crossing the room to kiss her. “It’s great to see you again!”

  Laurel gave him a strained, anxious smile. “It’s nice to see you, too,” she said.

  Nancy noticed the young woman’s resemblance to Lisa. Everything about Laurel, however, seemed more subdued. Her hair was a mousier shade of brown, and it was straight instead of curly. She was paler than her sister, and her clothes looked prim and out of style. Laurel kept glancing timidly at her father as though she were waiting for his approval.

  Ned smiled warmly at Nancy. “Remember Nancy Drew, Laurel?” he asked. “You met her back in River Heights.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Laurel faintly, nodding in Nancy’s direction.

  That was all. There was an awkward pause, which Nancy finally broke. “Well, I can hardly wait to see more of San Francisco,” she said. “It looked great from the car.”

  This time Laurel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it is,” she said. “We have some of the finest architecture in the country.”

  Mr. Franklin looked impatiently at his watch. “Where’s Lisa?” he asked with a frown. “She’s late.”

  Laurel gave him another one of her nervous glances. “Why don’t we all sit down, Dad?” she suggested. “I—I’m sure Lisa will be here in a minute.”

  “Oh, all right,” answered her father in a disgruntled voice. He pulled out his chair and sat down. The rest of the table followed suit. Then a second tense pause fell across the room as everyone tried to think of something to say.

  Well, this certainly isn’t one big happy family, Nancy thought. Mr. Franklin was so stern, Laurel was nervous, and Lisa so angry. She didn’t understand exactly where Christopher Toomey fit in. What did he make of all this?

  Mr. Franklin cleared his throat. “Go upstairs and find your sister, please,” he told Laurel. “Tell her that—”

  “I’m here,” came a sullen voice from the doorway.

  Everyone looked up as Lisa entered the dining room and took her seat.

  Lisa had changed her casual skirt and T-shirt for black leggings, black boots, a black turtleneck, and an oversize black jacket. On Lisa’s wrist was a single gold bracelet. The wide, curved band caught the light from the chandelier as Lisa flicked her napkin off the table.

  Nancy smiled at Lisa. “That’s a really nice outfit,” she said.

  Lisa stared at her plate in reply. Nancy saw that her eyes were still red.

  “Where are your manners, Lisa?” asked Mr. Franklin angrily. “You just received a compliment!”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” said Nancy quickly. She didn’t want to make Lisa more upset than she already was. She had a feeling it would only make Lisa close up even more.

  Suddenly Laurel spoke up. “It isn’t okay!” she said hotly. “Lisa�
��s acting like a spoiled brat. All she does is mope around, and she gets away with it!”

  Lisa turned to her sister. “I’m surprised you even notice!” she flared. “You never pay any attention to me!”

  “That’s enough, girls,” said Mr. Franklin sternly. “Could we just try to have a pleasant meal for once? We have guests, for heaven’s sake! And that reminds me. Lisa, tomorrow you should show Ned and Nancy around Franklin Place.”

  Lisa jumped up so fast that she knocked over her water glass. Water streamed to the floor, but everyone was too startled to do anything about it.

  “I’m not showing anybody anything,” she said between clenched teeth. “I hate that place. I wish it would burn to the ground. Then you’d all be sorry!”

  Before anyone could say a word, she ran from the dining room.

  Mr. Franklin slapped his napkin onto the table. “Well, here we go again,” he said. “Another meal ruined, courtesy of Lisa!”

  • • •

  Nancy walked into the bedroom with a sigh of relief. The meal itself had been wonderful, but Lisa hadn’t come back, and the dinner-table conversation had never really gotten going. The end of dinner had been welcomed by everyone.

  Downstairs, Mr. Franklin had just announced that coffee was going to be served in the library. Nancy had slipped upstairs for a moment to get some aspirin from her purse. Whether it was stress or just the long day she’d had, she could definitely feel the beginning of a headache coming on.

  What a messed-up family, Nancy thought as she took her purse off the bed. Whatever Lisa’s problem was, living in the Franklin house could only make it worse. Or maybe it was living there that was causing the problem.

  Suddenly Nancy heard a sound coming from the hall. It sounded like Lisa’s voice. And she sounded as if she was crying.

  Nancy tiptoed to the doorway and listened for a moment. The sound was coming from the opposite end of the long hall, across from Ned’s room. She walked quietly toward it.

  The other two bedroom doors were open, and Nancy could see that no one was inside. She was about to give up when she noticed a telephone cord stretched across the hallway. It ran from a table standing between two of the bedrooms and around a corner at the very end of the hall. Nancy peeked around the corner and saw a small nook by a back stairway.

  Lisa was curled up inside the space with her back to Nancy. She was clutching the telephone close to her mouth, and her slender shoulders were shaking with sobs beneath the black jacket. Nancy couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy. Obviously, whatever was bothering Lisa was more than some trivial family problem.

  She was turning to leave Lisa in privacy when the girl’s voice suddenly rose.

  “I’m telling you, he’ll be sorry. I’ll make him sorry!” she cried. “When I’m done with him, he won’t even know what hit him!”

  3

  Fire!

  Lisa slammed down the receiver, and Nancy ducked behind the guest-room door. She was just in time, too. Lisa walked swiftly down the hall toward the stairs. A few seconds later the front door slammed.

  Well! Nancy thought. Lisa Franklin certainly had a dramatic way of making an exit! Did she ever just walk out of a room like an ordinary person?

  Nancy headed toward the stairs herself. She hoped she’d be able to catch Ned alone in the library so she could tell him what she’d overheard.

  But as she walked into the oak-paneled room lined with hundreds of books, she saw that Mr. Franklin, Laurel, and Mr. Toomey were there already. Mr. Franklin and Mr. Toomey were studying an architectural magazine. Ned looked as if he were trying to draw Laurel into conversation, but he wasn’t having much luck. Laurel kept biting her lip and staring out the window.

  “Nancy! There you are at last. Was Lisa upstairs?” asked Mr. Franklin, glancing up from the magazine.

  “Uh—I didn’t run into her,” said Nancy. It wasn’t exactly a lie, she thought to herself. After all, Lisa hadn’t seen her.

  Laurel pursed her lips. “She probably sneaked out of the house to meet her boyfriend,” she said with a sidelong glance at her father.

  “Her boyfriend?” echoed Nancy.

  Laurel shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s always showing up when you least expect him.”

  “What’s his name?” asked Ned.

  “Richard Bates,” answered Laurel. “That’s all I know about him, except that Lisa met him at college. He lives in an apartment off campus. She hasn’t told me anything else.”

  Nancy looked over at Ned. “Maybe we should talk to Richard Bates,” she said. “He might know what’s bothering Lisa.”

  “If you ask me, he’s what’s bothering her,” snapped Mr. Franklin angrily. “Richard is a terrible influence on Lisa.”

  “In what way?” asked Nancy in surprise.

  “That young man is steering her off the right path. Lisa should be studying hard and working for me, the way Laurel did. She can learn plenty while she’s still in school. Even if photocopying and running errands don’t seem like much to her, she’ll be finding out how an architecture office works. Then, after she graduates, she’ll know what to expect when she comes to work officially at the firm. She can take her place alongside Laurel, creating designs, or she can work with Christopher to oversee the building process for each project.”

  Doesn’t Lisa get to make up her own mind about any of this? Nancy wanted to ask. But there was no point in making Mr. Franklin even angrier. “And her boyfriend keeps her from doing that?” she said aloud.

  “That’s right,” said Mr. Franklin. “He takes her mind away from her work.” He broke off as Mrs. Truitt came into the room with the coffee. “Thank you, Mrs. Truitt,” he said.

  The interruption seemed to have distracted him, for Mr. Franklin suddenly pulled a thick leather scrapbook from one of the bookshelves. He held the book out to Ned and Nancy. “I’d like you to see some of my work,” he said proudly.

  Nancy stood up to look over Ned’s shoulder as Mr. Franklin slowly turned the page. Laurel and Mr. Toomey watched in silence.

  The buildings in the scrapbook were all quite handsome: elegant, classical-looking structures that fit in well with their surroundings. Nancy recognized a few of the more famous buildings, but none of them seemed particularly exciting to her. She was no architect, of course, but the structures were all a bit conservative for her taste.

  Once again Nancy kept her thoughts to herself. “I’m very impressed,” she told Mr. Franklin. “These are just beautiful.” Ned nodded in agreement.

  Mr. Franklin smiled broadly—a real smile this time. “I’m glad you like them,” he said. “Now take a look at my newest creation!”

  He closed the scrapbook and opened an oak cabinet with wide, shallow drawers built to hold large sheets of paper. “These are copies of the plans for Franklin Place,” he told Nancy and Ned, pulling out a stack of drawings. He began flipping through them, one after another.

  Like Mr. Franklin’s other work, the designs were solidly classical. Franklin Place, it seemed, would be a handsome apartment building that might easily have been built fifty years before. But there was no denying that it would be an attractive spot to live in.

  “It’s great, Uncle Bob,” Ned said. “Really terrific.”

  “Everything’s the best that money can buy,” Mr. Franklin boasted.

  Nancy caught Ned’s eye and wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was: It would be nice if Mr. Franklin was as proud of his daughters as he was of Franklin Place.

  “Christopher, would you mind getting out the blueprints?” Mr. Franklin asked his associate. Mr. Toomey immediately opened another drawer and lifted out a set of blueprints that showed the construction details for every floor.

  Nancy had never realized how much planning went into a building. Everything in Franklin Place seemed to have been accounted for, from the wall outlets to the telephone cables.

  “I’m overwhelmed!” Nancy said at last. “Designing a building is so much work.�
��

  Unexpectedly, Laurel spoke up. “It is a lot of work,” she agreed. “But it’s fun, too. I love doing the math for the calculations and designing how it will all look. And working with Dad is great.” Her eyes glowed with excitement. “He’s a genius. I’m learning so much.”

  “That’s great, honey,” said Mr. Franklin kindly. Then he sighed. “I only wish your sister felt the same way you do. She’s going to be a brilliant success someday.” He bent his head to the blueprints and began to study them.

  Laurel gave a little gasp, and her face flushed scarlet. Biting her lip, she turned away from her father and began awkwardly pleating the hem of her skirt between her fingers.

  Ned cleared his throat before the silence in the room became too painful. “Uh, Uncle Bob, how much of Franklin Place is already built?” he asked.

  “Well, the foundation is laid,” Mr. Franklin told him. “The framing’s done, too, and we’ve got the first three floors drywalled. We’re right on schedule.”

  “Speaking of schedules,” Mr. Toomey put in, “I wonder if you might have time to go over the electrical plans with me, sir? I do have a call in to the electricians. It would be nice to—”

  Mr. Franklin was already on his feet. “All right, Christopher, let’s get busy,” he said. He turned to Nancy, Ned, and Laurel. “Would you mind excusing us?”

  That seemed to mean they should leave.

  As the three of them walked out of the library, Nancy turned to Laurel. “Do you have a minute?” she asked. “Ned and I would love to talk to you.”

  “Sure,” Laurel said. She hesitated. “But if it’s about Lisa, I don’t really have much to say.”

  “That’s fine,” said Nancy. “Shall we sit down in here?” She paused at the living room door.

  Laurel sighed and entered the room. She sat down gingerly on the very edge of the nearest chair. She looked uncomfortable, as if she didn’t want to be there at all.

  Ned gave Nancy a warning glance. Be careful, he seemed to be telling her.

  Nancy did her best. “Well, I’d really like to know a little more about Richard Bates,” she said pleasantly.