The Moonstone Castle Mystery

by Carolyn G. Keene

  Nancy and George looked at the ground. In front of the door, sunning itself on some rocks, was a five-foot snake. At the sound of the girls’ approach, the reptile raised its head. The forked tongue shot out from its mouth.

  “Car or no car, I’m not staying!” said Bess, who started to retreat.

  George, unafraid, looked around for a rock to throw near the snake and scare it away. “He’s just guarding the place,“ she said with a chuckle.

  “Nancy!” Bess screamed. “We’ll be thrown off!”

  “I can’t see what’s so funny about that,” her cousin retorted, but she stopped running.

  By this time George had found a small rock and heaved it toward the reptile. It landed within a few inches of the smooth body. At once the snake slithered off through the grass.

  The police, having heard the shouts, and Bess’s scream, had come from the other side of the castle on a run. By the time they caught up to the girls, Nancy was pulling at the old door. It proved to be too heavy for her to move.

  At once Sergeant Fosley and Detective Humfrey stepped forward and gave it a yank. As the huge door opened, Nancy gave a cry of glee. “My car!” she cried.

  The young sleuth ran inside the large opening, which she guessed had been a root cellar, and climbed behind the wheel of her convertible. There was no key in the ignition lock but she had hers in her purse. Quickly she inserted it into the lock and a second later had started the motor.

  “It runs!” she exclaimed, smiling broadly.

  The two officers looked on in amazement. Then Sergeant Fosley said, “You are a clever young sleuth! No one else thought of looking on this island for your car!”

  There was a short discussion about the thieves who had taken it. Everyone doubted that they planned to use it or sell it. They reached the conclusion that the car had been taken to keep Nancy from sleuthing in the neighborhood!

  “Apparently you have a reputation all the way up here in Deep River,” said Detective Humfrey. “Well, now that you have your car, I guess you don’t need us any longer. We’d better get back, Fosley.”

  The two men hurried off to their own car. They waited, however, to see that Nancy’s convertible was still running all right. Then they crossed the drawbridge and sped off.

  “Let’s look around here some more,” Nancy suggested. “With luck, maybe we’ll find some dues to the identity of Suggs’s pals!”

  “Not on your life,” Bess retorted. “Nancy Drew, don’t forget your promise to Ned.”

  Nancy gave a sigh of resignation. She had just driven onto the drawbridge when the girls heard creaking, groaning sounds in the wood beneath them. The next second the bridge began to lift!

  Bess screamed. “Nancy! The bridge is opening! We’ll be thrown off!”

  CHAPTER XVII

  Telltale Tracks

  AS THE drawbridge rose creakingly, Nancy put her car engine into reverse, sped backward down the incline, and into the courtyard. She was just in time to keep the convertible from turning over or being crushed.

  “Nancy, don’t give me a scare like that again!” Bess begged.

  Her cousin looked at her disdainfully. “You’d think it was Nancy’s fault. We’re lucky to be alive, thanks to her.”

  Bess apologized, saying she had not meant to imply Nancy was a poor driver. To forestall an argument, Nancy said, “What on earth made the bridge rise?”

  The three girls climbed out of the car. They looked at the bridge, which was not tightly in place in the castle wall.

  “The bridge certainly wouldn’t go up by itself,” said George, “unless the vibration of the policemen’s car loosened the wires and released the secret mechanism.”

  “This means we’re prisoners here, unless we leave the car and swim across,” said Bess with a sigh.

  “Not necessarily,” Nancy told her. “Maybe I can let the drawbridge down.”

  “How about the police?” Bess asked suddenly. “Maybe if we honk the horn loudly enough, they’ll come back.”

  She moved toward the car to do this. But though Bess kept her hand on the horn for half a minute, there was no response.

  George and Nancy had moved to the drawbridge. Together, they tugged and yanked at the heavy iron chains which let the bridge up and down. One side worked, but the other refused to budge.

  “I think the trouble’s up above where the chain goes through the wall,” Nancy stated. “I’ll go and find out.”

  “But how?” George asked. “You can’t climb up a sheer wall.”

  Nancy smiled. “But look at the steplike niches in the stonework,” she said. “They might be just the trick.”

  “Okay,” said George, “but what are you going to hold onto?”

  “There are some pretty heavy vines on this wall,” Nancy observed. The next moment she had grasped a stout stem of the ivy. She swung herself onto it to try its strength. “It’ll hold me all right,” she said.

  Quickly Nancy inched her way up the wall, using the vines and niches. When she reached the top of the drawbridge, she began to examine the bulky chain and the cogwheel over which it ran. Nancy discovered that the chain was wound around two of the teeth in such a way that the wheel could not turn and release the bridge.

  Holding onto the vine stem firmly with one hand, the young sleuth endeavored to lift the chain and unwind it. At first she could not budge the heavy iron links, and once she almost lost her balance.

  “Be careful!” George warned. “Want me to come up and help?”

  “Maybe you’d better,” said Nancy. “But whatever you do, pick out a different vine from mine!”

  George chuckled and followed instructions. “I knew being a tomboy would come in handy someday!” she called, as she made her ascent. Soon she was beside her chum.

  The two girls worked hard. But they did not dare tug too strenuously for fear that the force would unbalance them in their precarious positions. Finally they managed to get the links back into the cogs in a straight line.

  “Thank goodness!” said George.

  Nancy heaved a sigh. “I’m pretty relieved myself. Now all we have to do is see if it works.”

  George grinned. “And I suppose you’d like me to climb down and test it.” She descended and released the two chains. At once the drawbridge was lowered.

  “That’s simply marvelous!” cried Bess. “You girls are positive geniuses.”

  “Anyway,” said George, “we’re not such bad mechanics.”

  When Nancy reached the ground, she insisted that the cousins walk across the bridge. “I’ll come alone in the car. If anything goes wrong again, you can hurry off for help.”

  Bess and George waited with bated breath, but Nancy made it safely. Her friends climbed into the convertible and she headed toward town.

  “I’m starved,” said Bess. “Adventure always makes me hungry.”

  George laughed. “Tension is supposed to take away your appetite,” she said, “not increase it!”

  Nancy suggested that they head for the Brass Kettle. “Maybe Mrs. Hemstead will give us some more information about Mr. Seaman.”

  When they entered the tearoom, the girls were delighted to see the old lady rocking in her chair. At once she motioned to them.

  “I haven’t had a soul to talk to all morning,” she complained. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  “We’ve been out for a ride,” Nancy said nonchalantly. “You know, Mrs. Hemstead, I never have received the present from Mr. Seaman that he told you about. Has he been around lately?”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Mrs. Hemstead replied. “But you know, I heard a funny thing about him.”

  Instantly the girls were alert and asked her what it was.

  The old lady rocked determinedly as if she were angry. “He fooled me—that’s what he did,” she said. “All this time I thought he was a traveling salesman, but I was told just last night that he’s working out at old Mrs. Wilson’s.”

  The girls could hardly suppress smiles. Mr
s. Hemstead felt that she had been duped, and did not like it! She went on to say that Mrs. Wilson was a wealthy widow who lived on the outskirts of Deep River.

  “Up to a short time ago,” Mrs. Hemstead continued, “Mrs. Wilson kept four servants, but now she has only a couple. I suppose the woman is Mr. Seaman’s wife. Mrs. Wilson never comes to town any more. There are rumors around here she’s not well.”

  “That’s too bad,” Nancy said sympathetically. “Do Mr. and Mrs. Seaman take care of her?”

  “I suppose so,” Mrs. Hemstead said. “Folks don’t know what’s going on out there any more. The couple never come to town, either. They order all their food and supplies by telephone. Funny thing, too, the delivery boys never see anybody. The money is left outside in the milk box.”

  Instantly Nancy’s mind flew back to the similar story about Grandmother Horton. Could the Seamans be the same couple she had had? Nancy told herself she was going to follow up this clue at once. As casually as possible she asked Mrs. Hemstead the location of Mrs. Wilson’s home.

  “Well, when you get out on the main road, you take the road toward the old castle. After you pass the castle, take the next road to the left that you come to. Mrs. Wilson’s house is way down at the end near the water.”

  The three girls explained that they wanted to have lunch and said good-by to Mrs. Hemstead. As soon as they were seated and had ordered their luncheon, Nancy told Bess and George that she wanted to go out to the Wilson home directly after the girls finished eating.

  About an hour later Nancy drove within sight of the Wilson house. She decided to hide her car along the wooded roadside.

  “Let’s walk up the Wilson driveway and try not to make ourselves conspicuous,” she cautioned. Fortunately, the drive was a curving one, bordered by trees and thick shrubbery.

  Suddenly George exclaimed, “Look! Tire tracks that don’t match. They’re just like the ones we saw at the castle!”

  The girls stooped to examine them. Three of the tires had parallel grooves; the one on the right rear wheel was diamond-shaped.

  “We’re on the trail of something all right,” Bess remarked. “But let’s not get ourselves captured!”

  They hurried along the side of the road, ready to hide among the trees and bushes if a car should come along or any people appear. They neared the end of the driveway, where the trees on the far side ended, and a long green lawn extended for some distance.

  “Girls!” Nancy whispered tensely. She pointed to their left. The tower of Moonstone Castle was in plain view! “Anyone standing here could have watched Jake Suggs signaling!”

  “O-oh!” said Bess. “I’ve seen enough! Let’s go back!”

  “No!” said Nancy. “We have a real clue this time.” She came from behind a tree, walked up to the front door, and boldly lifted the big brass knocker.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  Worried Plotters

  WHEN there was no answer to Nancy’s knock, she tried again. Still no one came to open the door of Mrs. Wilson’s home.

  Disappointed, Nancy was about to turn away, when Bess rushed up to her. She had been standing some distance back from the house and had been gazing at the windows. Now she exclaimed in an excited whisper:

  “Somebody is home. I saw a middle-aged woman looking out one of the second-floor windows.”

  “Middle-aged?” George repeated. “That couldn’t be old Mrs. Wilson.”

  “That’s right,” Nancy agreed. “I wonder why the woman doesn’t come and answer my knock?”

  “Maybe she’s deaf,” George suggested, and ran back from the doorway so she would be in plain sight if anyone looked out the window again.

  Nancy, meanwhile, hammered the door knocker vigorously. No one came to answer it.

  “Evidently they don’t want to see us,” said Bess.

  The three girls discussed the question of whether it was just they who were not welcome, or whether no callers were allowed into the house. They did not come to any conclusion.

  “Why don’t we pretend to leave?” said Nancy. “We’ll go down the driveway a short distance and double back, using the trees as a screen.”

  She and the cousins followed this plan and remained in hiding for nearly ten minutes. They had a good view of the house, but no one appeared at any of the windows, or came to open the door.

  “We may as well go,” said Bess.

  “Not yet,” Nancy begged. “I see a way to get up to the house without being spotted. Normally I dislike eavesdropping, but in this case I think it is justified.”

  The young sleuth managed to make her way behind trees and among bushes to an open, screened window not far from the front door. She had barely settled into a comfortable listening position when a car came up the driveway.

  At once Bess was terrified. “Now we’ll be caught!” she told George.

  “Sh!” her cousin warned and pulled Bess down to a stooping position. “Nancy’s well out of sight. I’m sure nobody will see her.”

  As the car went past the place where the cousins were hiding, they could see the lone driver plainly. He was the man who had followed Nancy in River Heights and George in Deep River!

  “He may have trailed us here,” Bess worried. “If so, he’ll hunt until he finds Nancy!”

  George set her jaw. “If he does, you and I will run forward and help her!”

  The man parked his car and went up to the front door. To the girls’ surprise, he took a key from his pocket and let himself into the house.

  Nancy, who had seen all this clearly, and fortunately had not been noticed, wondered if the stranger lived here. Again the thought went through her mind, “I’ve seen that man some place.” As she tried hard to think where it had been, she heard voices in the room just above where she was crouched.

  “Rudy Raspin!” exclaimed another man’s voice. “Why did you come here in the daytime? You know we agreed that all our meetings would be at night.”

  “Listen, Oman,” said Raspin, “don’t give me orders. Things aren’t going well. We’d better scram!”

  A woman’s voice said, “What happened?”

  Before Raspin could answer, Oman broke in. But he had barely started to speak when the woman quickly ordered, “Be quiet, Ben! Listen to Rudy!”

  “You’re a nagging wife, Clara!” Oman complained.

  Nancy’s heart was thumping with excitement. Oman! The name on the postcard which had been found in Grandmother Horton’s home! Also, Nancy was sure from the sound of Ben Oman’s voice that he was Mr. Seaman! So the man was using an alias!

  Raspin went on, “Jake Suggs is in jail, and he has talked!”

  Even outdoors Nancy could hear the gasps of alarm from the Omans. They asked what had happened.

  “That pesky Drew girl and her friends searched the castle and found Suggs. I always said he was too dumb to be trusted. Well, they took him to the police. Then, a few hours later, Suggs told the cops about Mr. Wheeler and they went out to the castle and rescued him.”

  “And now Wheeler will start talking!” Oman exclaimed in a thoroughly alarmed tone of voice. “We are in a tight spot.”

  His wife, who sounded doubtful about the story, asked, “Where did you get all this information, Rudy? You wouldn’t have dared go to the jail to see Jake!”

  “I wouldn’t, eh?” Raspin asked in a sneering tone. “I’ll tell you how I managed it. I just happened to go to that tearoom you like so much, and the old busybody there told me the story about Suggs being captured and Wheeler being found. Then I went to the jail.”

  Raspin laughed. “Pretty clever of me, too, the way I did it. I put on a disguise, and wrote a letter on stolen official state stationery I keep on hand along with other handy forms I pick up. The letter, addressed to Chief Burke, said I was a member of a state committee on jail inspection. I signed an assumed name.”

  “So you did talk to Suggs?” said Oman.

  “Right. And I found out something else from him. Nancy Drew has my moonstone!”
r />   “How’d she get it?” Ben Oman cried out, and his wife asked, “When did you learn that, Rudy?”

  “Suggs told me. That fool held the Drew girl prisoner a short time until he was discovered. Those girl friends of hers stood right outside the secret door on the castle cellar stairway. Suggs heard one of them say, ‘That moonstone somebody sent her certainly didn’t help Nancy.’ ”

  Oman whistled, as Raspin, now in a loud and angry voice, said, “I don’t know who sent it to her, but I have an idea. If I’m right, I’ll—I’ll—well, never mind, that’s a personal matter. But I’m going to get the moonstone back! I’ve had bad luck ever since it disappeared!”

  Nancy was amazed to hear that the moonstone she had received belonged to Rudy Raspin! Who had sent it to her? And why had it been taken from him?

  After a few moments’ silence, Raspin spoke again. “I tell you, it’s getting too hot around here. The sooner we get out, the better!”

  “Just a minute,” said Oman. “I’m not going to give up this job.”

  “You and Clara will be caught!” Raspin argued.

  “Listen,” said Ben Oman in a wheedling tone, “we have the old lady just where we want her. She’s too weak to resist.” The man laughed sardonically.

  “That’s right,” spoke up Clara Oman. “She’s signing checks now without looking at them.”

  Rudy Raspin, apparently as greedy as his pals, laughed. “I guess we can’t leave the loot behind,” he said. “Well, force all you can out of the old lady’s checkbook today. Tomorrow we get out of here!”

  Nothing more was said and in a few moments Raspin left the house. As soon as he had driven off, Nancy cautiously returned to Bess and George and told the story. They stared in speechless amazement.

  “We must get the police right away!” Nancy said. “Old Mrs. Wilson is in real danger!”

  The girls ran to Nancy’s hidden car and hurried to town. As they neared the road leading up to the motel, she said, “I think it would be a good idea, before we go to the police, to see if there’s any word from Dad.”

  When she reached the motel, the three girls dashed inside, all hoping for letters. There were none and no message from Mr. Drew, but Mrs. Thompson, who was behind the desk, said: