The Silent Suspect

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The Silent Suspect Page 8

by Carolyn Keene


  “Not as long as you and Lisa have alibis,” Nancy assured him.

  “Well, we do,” said Lisa. “You can ask Mrs. Truitt. She’s been right here the whole time, cleaning. And she doesn’t approve of Richard, so she’d never lie for him.”

  Nancy nodded. “Fine.”

  “Well, at least someone believes us for once!” Richard said.

  “And Dad and Mr. Toomey were in a restaurant, so they have alibis, too,” Lisa added.

  Ned frowned. “But what about Laurel?” he asked. “She was the only one at the site when the fire started.”

  The color drained from Lisa’s face. “You don’t mean—will people think Laurel set the fire?”

  “They might,” Nancy said gently.

  “That’s ridiculous!” Lisa cried.

  Nancy and Ned exchanged a look. “Well, if she didn’t set it, I’m sure we won’t have much trouble proving it. Where is Laurel now, by the way?”

  Lisa blinked. “Still at the trailer, I guess. Why?”

  “I was just wondering,” Nancy said. She turned to Ned. “I think we’d better get over to Franklin Place. I want to check out what happened.” She glanced at Lisa. “Would it be okay if we used your car?”

  Lisa nodded. “Richard and I want to come along, too. I’d like to see what’s going on as much as you do. And Dad might need me.”

  They all piled into Lisa’s car and drove down to Franklin Place. When they got there they could see that the office trailer was still standing, but the outside of it was black with smoke. Several firefighters were poking through the dirt for clues as Mr. Franklin and Mr. Toomey watched. Nancy could imagine how hard a new setback like this must seem.

  “Dad!” Lisa called.

  Her father turned eagerly at the sound of her voice, but he frowned when he saw Richard. “What’s he doing here?”

  “We were studying at home,” Lisa answered. “We’re doing a project for school.”

  “They have cast-iron alibis as far as this fire is concerned,” Nancy said quickly. “Mr. Franklin, could you please fill us in on what happened here?”

  Mr. Franklin nodded. “The fire started under the trailer,” he said. “I’ll show you. Be careful,” he added as he led them to the trailer. “The ground’s pretty muddy here from the firehoses.”

  The group stepped carefully through the mud behind the long metal trailer. Nancy peeked in one of the windows. Inside, the trailer had four desks, two bookcases, and a set of file cabinets that Nancy assumed held blueprints and other papers.

  “Not much to see, really,” said Mr. Franklin. “Laurel said she had taken a break and was walking around the building site when she smelled smoke. She came running, but the flames were small, so she used the fire extinguisher. By the time the fire department came, the fire was almost out.”

  “The firefighters gave the place a pretty thorough going-over,” added Mr. Toomey.

  “May we see the inside of the trailer?” Nancy asked.

  “Sure,” Mr. Franklin answered. “But again, I don’t think there’s much to see.”

  Someone had placed a few sheets of cardboard in front of the trailer door, where the mud was the worst. Nancy and the others entered the office. Inside, everything looked fine, although the smell of smoke was strong.

  Mr. Toomey hurried from window to window, sliding them open. Then he turned to Nancy.

  “Whatever happened at your meeting with Jake Ledwell?” he asked. “I mean, if he set the first fire, he probably set this one, too.”

  “He’s definitely a possibility for the first fire,” she agreed. “He’s got an alibi for this one, though. Ned and I were with him this morning at exactly the time the fire must have been set.”

  It was possible, of course, that Ledwell had been working with Laurel, but Nancy didn’t mention that. She didn’t want to hurt the Franklin family any more right now. Besides, she’d need proof first.

  “Could I take a quick look at your desks?” she asked Mr. Franklin.

  “Certainly,” he answered.

  Mr. Toomey grinned at Nancy. “Just don’t judge anything by my messy desk.”

  Nancy laughed. “Don’t worry. I understand messy desks—you should see my father’s. By the way,” she added casually, “where’s Laurel?”

  “Well, as you might expect, she was very upset by all this,” Mr. Franklin answered. “I sent her right home.”

  “Home?” Lisa looked puzzled. “Laurel wasn’t home.”

  “Our paths probably crossed,” Ned said.

  “I’ll call and see,” said Lisa, picking up the telephone on her father’s desk. But after a few moments of conversation she shook her head and hung up. “Mrs. Truitt says Laurel’s not there,” she told them.

  “We can talk to Laurel later,” Nancy said. She glanced around the office one more time. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary here. Ned and I might as well go home.”

  “Look who’s coming,” Ned said grimly.

  Nancy checked the window. “Uh-oh,” she said. “I was wondering how long it would take the reporters to find out about this.”

  A man and woman were heading toward the trailer. Nancy remembered them from the first fire. Getting away wouldn’t be easy.

  “There they are! Inside the trailer!” the woman called to her companion when she spotted Nancy. “What’s going on? Is Mr. Franklin in there?” she shouted at Nancy.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything,” Nancy called back. Quickly, she slid the window shut. Ned did the same with the other windows, and Richard closed the trailer door.

  “Oh, no,” Lisa moaned. “I can’t face all those questions again!”

  “You won’t have to,” Nancy assured her. “I have a better idea. The reporters will recognize your Camaro, so why don’t we take your father’s car? Ned and I can drive you home and bring your father’s car right back. Is that all right?” she asked, turning to Mr. Franklin. He nodded.

  “That should get us away from the reporters,” Nancy said. “And I’ll also have a chance to talk to Laurel back at the house. Now, Mr. Franklin, I wonder if you could help us out with something?”

  Quickly she explained what she wanted him to do, and he nodded again. “I don’t want extra publicity any more than you do,” he said to Lisa. She gave him a grateful smile.

  Then Mr. Franklin opened the door. As everyone had expected, the two reporters rushed up to him. “I’ll be glad to talk to you,” he told them cordially. “Let me show you exactly where the fire started. If you’ll just follow me—this way, please. We’re all very shocked, of course, and—”

  Still talking, he led the two reporters behind the trailer.

  “Okay, let’s get going,” Nancy directed. “Ned, could you go and get Mr. Franklin’s car?”

  The instant Ned brought the car to the door, Nancy, Richard, and Lisa bolted for it. Lisa scrambled into the backseat and ducked down out of sight as the car headed away from the building site.

  Ned glanced into the rearview mirror. “Uh-oh, they’ve spotted us,” he said. “But it’s too late now. We’re out of here!”

  Lisa giggled as she peeked out the rear window. “We fooled them!” she crowed.

  “They’ll be back,” Nancy warned. “But you’re safe for now.”

  At the Franklin house Ned pulled the car close to the kitchen door. Lisa dashed inside, and the others followed.

  Mrs. Truitt was sliding a tray of cookies into the oven. “Am I glad to see you!” she said. “Some reporters were here, but I didn’t tell them anything.”

  “Thanks,” Lisa told her. “What did Laurel say?”

  Mrs. Truitt frowned. “But, dear, I told you. Laurel isn’t here.”

  Lisa looked alarmed. “Still? Where could she be?” She turned to Nancy. “What do you think, Nancy? Could she have had some kind of accident on the way home or something?”

  “It’s possible,” Nancy said guardedly. “But I don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “Well
, what do you—” Richard began.

  “Lisa, do you think your father will mind if we don’t take his car back right away?” Nancy interrupted. “We’ve got to look for Laurel. She may not be planning to show up here at all.”

  “But why wouldn’t she come home?” asked Lisa in a bewildered voice.

  “I know you don’t like thinking about this, Lisa, but Laurel is a very strong suspect in this case,” said Nancy. “She could be guilty of committing arson—twice. Maybe she’s hiding from us, or she might be in some kind of trouble. But if we don’t find her soon and get her to tell us the truth, she may wind up in jail!”

  12

  Clue in Chinatown

  “I’ll help you look for Laurel,” said Lisa instantly.

  “If she’s in some kind of trouble, I want to help her.”

  “I think it’d be better if we split up,” said Nancy. “Why don’t Ned and I take your father’s car, and you and Richard go in Richard’s.”

  “Fine with me,” said Richard. “Where do you think we should look?”

  “Is there anyplace Laurel might go if she had something on her mind?” Ned asked Lisa.

  His cousin thought for a moment. “I can think of two places,” she said. “Chinatown, for one. Laurel spends a lot of time there, poking around. And Fisherman’s Wharf is the other place she might go. A couple of years ago she spent the whole day there after her boyfriend broke up with her. I guess we could try both places. It’s better than sitting around at home worrying, anyway.”

  “Okay, you two go to Chinatown,” agreed Nancy. “Ned and I will head back to Franklin Place to see if we can find out anything more. Then maybe we’ll try Fisherman’s Wharf. Why don’t you give me a call at Franklin Place in about half an hour?”

  “Okay,” said Lisa. “Let’s get going.”

  Unfortunately, traffic on the way to Franklin Place was maddeningly slow. Nancy sighed in exasperation as, once again, a traffic light changed to red just as they pulled up to it. “This is driving me crazy,” she said.

  “We’re doing the best we can,” Ned said.

  Nancy watched the light. “True. But I wonder what Laurel is up to. I had been thinking that she couldn’t possibly have set the second fire. I mean, it would have made her too obvious a suspect. She was the only person at the site. But her disappearing this way …” Nancy’s voice trailed away as the light turned green.

  Finally, they reached Franklin Place. Ned parked the car, and he and Nancy walked over to the trailer.

  Inside, Mr. Toomey was hard at work. He was leafing through a pile of papers in front of him and punching numbers into a calculator.

  “Hello,” he said cheerfully when he saw Nancy and Ned. “I’m just reworking some of Laurel’s calculations. Pretty soon, you know, we’ll have to rebuild Franklin Place. This time there won’t be any mistakes. I’m making sure of that.”

  “Right,” said Ned distractedly. “Where’s Uncle Bob? We’ve brought back his car.”

  “He went to a meeting,” Toomey told them. “He took Lisa’s car, so you might as well go on using his.”

  “Well, at least we’ll be driving around in style,” said Ned.

  “Driving around?” echoed Mr. Toomey. “Are you finally getting to do some more sight-seeing?”

  Nancy smiled ruefully. “I wish. What we’re really doing is looking for Laurel. Let me call Mrs. Truitt and see if she’s turned up by now.”

  But Laurel still hadn’t come home. Nancy checked her watch. “Lisa should be calling any second,” she said. “Do you mind if we wait in here for her call, Mr. Toomey?”

  “Of course not,” he replied. “I’m delighted to have some company. Here, let me show you what I’ve been working on.”

  He spread a sheet of calculations in front of them before Nancy could say anything. “It’s a terrible shame about these mistakes,” Mr. Toomey muttered almost to himself. “Laurel’s so talented. It would be such a pity if she lost her nerve after this—”

  Just then the phone rang. Nancy crossed over to Mr. Franklin’s desk and picked it up.

  “Nancy? It’s Lisa. We’ve pretty much finished with Chinatown.” She sounded frustrated. “It’s crazy to look for someone this way. I mean, Laurel could be anywhere! Anyway, we thought we’d try Fisherman’s Wharf next, but can we join up with you? We could cover more ground that way.”

  “Good idea,” said Nancy. “Tell me where you are now. We’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” Quickly, she jotted down the address Lisa gave her.

  “We’ll be waiting for you,” said Lisa. “Bye!”

  “Wait!” said Nancy. “We don’t know—”

  But Lisa had already hung up.

  “Can you tell us how to get to Chinatown?” Nancy asked Mr. Toomey. “We’re meeting Lisa and Richard there and heading on to Fisherman’s Wharf.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Now, what would be the most scenic route?” he mused.

  “Thanks, Mr. Toomey, but we have to get there fast,” Nancy interrupted.

  “I see,” said Mr. Toomey. “Too bad, though. There are a lot of things you could see on the way if you—Oh, well. Since you’re in a hurry, your best bet is the cable car. It’s not far from here.”

  Carefully, he began writing down the directions.

  Please hurry! Nancy wanted to say as she watched him stop to think. Mr. Toomey frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he handed them their directions.

  “Thank you so much!” Nancy said as she and Ned raced out.

  “Which way do we go?” Nancy asked Ned when they reached the street.

  “We go left at the next corner,” said Ned. “Then catch a cable car in a few blocks.”

  After a few minutes they reached the cable car stop just as a cable car pulled up, its bell clanging loudly.

  Nancy and Ned scrambled aboard.

  Under different circumstances Nancy would have loved the ride. The cable car kept swooping up and down incredibly steep streets and swinging thrillingly around corners. Beautiful streets flashed by, but Nancy was too intent on catching up to Lisa and Richard to pay attention to the scenery.

  Holding tightly to a pole with one hand, she took the directions from Ned. “That’s odd,” she said, frowning. “There’s makeup on this paper.”

  Ned glanced at the tan streaks. “So?”

  “I’m wearing only blusher,” Nancy told him.

  “Well, don’t look at me,” Ned joked.

  Nancy laughed, then looked at the directions again.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “According to this, we should already have passed Powell Street. We must have gotten on the wrong car.”

  She turned to a slender young woman standing beside them and showed her the slip of paper. “Excuse me, but have we missed our connecting stop?” she asked.

  The woman glanced at the directions. “Oh, you can’t get to Chinatown that way,” she said.

  Nancy looked at Ned in alarm. “But we have to get there!” she cried. “It’s very important!”

  The woman was clearly startled. “I do know a shortcut if you’re really in a hurry,” she said. “You’ll get there as fast as a cable car would—maybe even faster.”

  She gave Ned and Nancy new directions. Nancy called out their thanks as she and Ned jumped off at the next stop. Then they ran down the crowded sidewalk as fast as they could.

  “I hope these directions are right,” Ned panted.

  “They’d better be,” said Nancy tersely.

  After that they ran in silence, except for an occasional “excuse me” as one of them dodged a passerby. At last Nancy spotted the golden dragon that stood atop the huge archway crossing Grant Avenue.

  “Chinatown,” she said. “Finally!”

  They raced two more blocks toward their destination, but there was no sign of Lisa or Richard.

  Nancy and Ned stopped in front of a row of stores. Huge bins, filled with all kinds of merchandise, took up most of the sidewalk. Boxes of socks and sandals
spilled over onto boxes of stuffed rabbits and tiny flashlights. There were pots and pans, coloring books, and jewelry all jumbled together.

  “Look, Nan.” Ned pointed to a telephone booth. It was painted bright red and trimmed with gold, with a fancy peaked roof made to look like a Chinese temple. “Maybe they called from there.”

  “Maybe,” Nancy agreed. “But where are they now? They could have gone into one of the stores while they were waiting. Let’s check the block.”

  “Fine,” Ned said. “I’ll look across the street.” He began stepping through the busy traffic. Nancy hurried to the opposite corner and retraced her steps. There was still no sign of Lisa or Richard.

  What could have happened? Nancy stopped to gather her thoughts as a man walked up to her, hissing to get her attention. When Nancy glanced his way, he held out a cardboard box. It was filled with brightly colored tubes.

  “Firecrackers,” the man whispered. “Left over from Chinese New Year’s. I’ll give you a good price.”

  Nancy frowned. “No, thanks.”

  “They’re not dangerous,” the man said coaxingly. “See?”

  He lifted a red firecracker and waved it in front of Nancy’s face. A long string dangled from one end.

  “See,” the man told her. “Extra-long fuse. Plenty of time to get away—then, BANG!”

  Nancy jumped back, startled. The man threw back his head and howled with loud, high-pitched laughter.

  “Nan! Over here!” Ned called from the corner. He was waving wildly, and Lisa and Richard were with him.

  Filled with relief, Nancy hurried toward the others.

  “Sorry,” Lisa said as Nancy ran up. “We were waiting in a store. Who was that man you were talking to?”

  Nancy made a face. “He wanted to sell me firecrackers with an extra-long fuse.”

  “Firecrackers!” said Ned in amazement. He took Nancy’s arm, and they began walking quickly along behind Lisa and Richard. “What made him think you’d be interested in firecrackers? He must be trying to unload them before anyone can—”

  Suddenly, Nancy froze. “Ned! That’s it!” she gasped.

  Everyone stared at her. “What’s it?” asked Richard.

 

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