The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

by Campbell, Julie

  “I’ll just play the tune on one string. It’ll be easier for you to remember if I don’t chord it. Listen, Mart. It’s in F sharp:

  “ ‘Down in the churchyard,

  All covered with snow,

  My true love’s a-lying.

  Hang your head low.

  Mourn for my true love,

  Under the snow,

  Mourn for my sweet love.

  Hang your head low.’ ”

  Mr. Belden looked up from his newspaper. “Can’t you think of something less mournful?” Mart hummed, trying to harmonize with Janie.

  “What did you say, Dad? Oh, blast! There’s the telephone.”

  “I’ll get it,” Brian called.

  Trixie could hear his voice on the kitchen extension. He must be talking to Jim. Something was “swell.”

  “What was it?” she asked Brian when he came into the room. “What was so swell?”

  “It was Jim. When he took Spider back to the police station, where he’d left his patrol car, Jim saw Sergeant Molinson just leaving. He said he guessed Jim’s cousin was happy now, since those papers she’d been waiting for so long had arrived and she had finished her business at the courthouse.”

  “Gol... I’m sure glad for her,” Mart said. “I guess I’m glad for everyone concerned. But, say... that’s funny....”

  “What’s funny, Mart?” Janie asked and put down the guitar.

  “We saw her just a short time ago at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s... Juliana....”

  “We did,” Trixie cried, “and she didn’t say one thing about getting those papers.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know it then,” Brian said. Mart jumped up from his chair. “Hey, maybe she didn’t. Trixie, why don’t you go and call her?”

  “At this hour?” Mrs. Belden asked.

  “She knew it, all right,” Trixie said. “I’m not going to call her and get squelched. Don’t you remember how she was so high-hat and said she was ‘going to my room’? If she’d wanted us to know, she’d have said so. She sure blows hot and cold.”

  “Remember about the dolls,” Honey said. “That’s the only ‘blowing hot’ she’s done that I can remember. I can remember plenty of ‘blowing cold’ times— Why do you suppose Reddy is barking so much?”

  “He’s off on a rabbit’s trail,” Mr. Belden said.

  “I guess I’m jittery,” Trixie said. “Honey, shall we go to bed? You aren’t the only one who’s yawning. Look at Brian!”

  In her room, Trixie turned on the pink-shaded lights on her dressing table and found a pair of pajamas for Honey.

  “These are your best ones!” Honey protested. “So what? You’re my best friend.”

  “Okay, as long as you put it that way.... Trixie?”

  “Yes?”

  “I wish I could warm up to Juliana more. I can’t. Can you?”

  “Huh-uh.” Trixie stopped brushing her short curls. “I can’t. Every time I think she’s getting a little human, she does an about-face. Why do you suppose she didn’t tell us that she had heard from Holland?”

  “I don’t know. She talked about it enough before,” Honey said.

  “And she acted so funny at Mrs. Vanderpoels, and she hardly ever says anything really kind.”

  “That Mrs. Schimmel who raised her, though,” Honey put in, “told us she had grown to love Juliana like her own child. And Mrs. Hendricks, the neighbor in the Bronx, said some pretty nice things about her, too!”

  “So did her little boy.” Trixie’s face was thoughtful. “Kids never pretend. They like people right away, or they don’t, and no fooling. Look at Bobby.”

  Honey nodded. “He’s not one of Juliana’s fans.”

  “I’ll say he isn’t. He’s crazy about Janie, though.”

  “I wonder... Honey picked up the brush Trixie had abandoned and ran it the length of her honey-colored hair. “One, two, three.” She counted as she stroked.

  “Honey?” Trixie said.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think we’ve been fair to Juliana?”

  “You mean we’ve been too quick to see her faults?”

  “That, and maybe, because Janie was in the hospital... maybe we only thought about her.”

  “Maybe so. I suppose, now that she’s heard from Holland, she’ll be off to the Poconos. I wish, for Jim’s sake, we had been nicer. He hasn’t seemed too keen about her himself, though, especially lately.”

  “It’s because he thinks she’s double-crossing that lawyer in The Hague she’s supposed to be engaged , » to.

  “That is her own business. I guess falling in love isn’t all moonlight and soft music and roses. Maybe a person can make a mistake, Trixie.”

  “She did grow up with that lawyer in The Hague. She should have been sure.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Honey mused. “Sorta like you and Jim, maybe.”

  Trixie blushed. It was one thing for her to think deep in her inmost thoughts that Jim was someone superspecial, but it was another thing to say it aloud. Ever since they’d first found Jim, she and Honey, and saved him from that old Jones, his stepfather— How could Jim’s mother ever have married a man who even looked like Jones? Sleek, city-slicker type, coal black hair, a crooked gash for a mouth. On TV and in the movies, women did seem to fall for a crooked smile.

  “Have you gone into a trance?”

  Honey’s voice startled Trixie out of her reverie. “My mind was wandering,” she said.

  “I’ll say. To go back to Juliana—were always finding something to criticize. I move we accent the positive from now on, maybe have a big party for her at our house before she goes. Shake?”

  Trixie put out her hand. “Shake.”

  Honey yawned and slipped under the covers.

  Trixie put out the light, then sat on the edge of her bed, thinking.

  There was no sound save Honey’s even breathing. Honey must have gone right to sleep, Trixie thought. Finally she, too, lifted the light cover, swung her feet, and slid under— What was that sound? It was smothered... stifled. And it seemed to come from downstairs.

  Janie’s room was downstairs. Was something wrong with her?

  Trixie found her slippers. “If I turn on the light, it will waken Honey,” she thought. “It’s probably just my imagination. It’s been that kind of a day.

  Reaching out her hand, she followed the wall to the door, then went softly down the hall, her footsteps not making a sound on the carpeted floor. Downstairs, she went through the living room and dining room and down the back hall to Janie’s door.

  The sound came from there, unmistakably. Janie was sobbing.

  Trixie opened the door, went over to Janie’s bed, and dropped to her knees beside it. “What is it, Janie?” she whispered. “Is it pain from the bruises? Does your wrist hurt?”

  “Oh, Trixie,” Janie said, tears half choking her voice, “who am I? Won’t I ever find out?”

  “Of course you will,” Trixie murmured, her arm reaching comfortingly around Janie’s shoulders. They were such thin, frail shoulders.

  “Just you wait, Janie. Do you know what sometimes makes me wake in the night and sit right up straight? It’s the thought that suddenly, suddenly someday, you will remember; then the people you belong to will take you away from here. We’ll all miss you so much, Janie.”

  Janie sniffed and took the tissue Trixie pushed into her hand. “I know that, Trixie. In the daytime I feel warm and loved, secure and safe, but in the night....”

  “In the night it s harder, I know.” Trixie slipped into the bathroom, brought back a cool cloth, and ran it over Janie’s face. “I brought one of those pills Dr. Gregory gave you to help you sleep. Here, sip this water.”

  Trixie waited while she swallowed the sedative. In the faint moonlight that came from the window, her poor scratched face looked so forlorn. A shadow moved across it. A shadow from where? Outside? Perhaps from the curtain stirring in the breeze? Suddenly uneasy, Trixie went to the window and looked out. Seeing nothing but the garden
, peaceful under the moon, she returned to Janie.

  “There, now, go to sleep.” Trixie tucked the sheet around Janie’s shoulders. “Who knows? Tomorrow may bring an answer to all our questions.”

  Softly she tiptoed to the door. There was no sound, no sound anywhere now, except Janie’s even breathing as the pill took over.

  Something Curious About the Dog • 17

  POOR JANIE,” Trixie thought as she crept back into bed. “Nobody seems to be doing one thing to help her, and she is in dreadful danger! Spider seemed to be sure of this. He couldn’t do anything to help, either. It’s the most mixed-up puzzle. I wish Janie’s problems could be solved the way Juliana’s seem to have been.”

  From the next bed Honey’s breathing rose and fell in quiet sleep.

  Outside, the moon had disappeared. Intermittent yellow heat lightning flickered. There was silence... silence everywhere.

  Finally Trixie, too, slept.

  Bong!

  Trixie, startled, sat bolt upright in her bed.

  Bong! Bong! Bong! Three times more. Somberly the grandfather’s dock in the downstairs hall had announced the horn: of four.

  Somewhere outside, a branch broke. Lightning sent its pale, trembling light across the room. Thunder followed, distant, low, long, rumbling.

  Silence.

  Across the yard, out of the silence, something stirred and crackled in the shrubbery.

  Trixie listened.

  There it was again... that noise. A strange dog? No. Reddy would have routed another dog with his barking.

  Almost as eerie as the rustling sound itself was the light that came and went through the open window. That shadow she saw in Janie’s room— the shadow that crossed in the moonlight—was it really a shadow?

  Dread quickened Trixie’s heartbeat. Janie!

  Pushing her toes into her slippers, she tiptoed down the hall. “Shall I waken the boys?” she wondered. Noiselessly she opened their door a crack. They were so sound asleep. “If I call them,” she thought, “Bobby will wake up, then Moms and Dad. There’ll be bedlam, because Bobby will howl. He always does when he’s awakened suddenly from a sound sleep.

  “I’ll get my robe and slip downstairs by myself. No, I’ll wake Honey. If I don’t let her go with me, she’ll never forgive me. She won t make a sound if I shake her just a little.”

  “What is it?” Honey whispered through Trixie’s hand held over her mouth. “What time is it? What do you want, Trixie? What’s wrong?”

  “That’s what I want you to help me find out. Get your slippers and robe. I think something queer is going on outside. Shhh! We mustn’t wake everyone!”

  “What did you see? What did you hear?” Honey asked sleepily.

  Trixie told her. “It’s not much, I know. I don’t think that I imagined that shadow when I was with Janie.”

  “And you think we should go... outside... alone? It’s dark. There isn’t even any moonlight now. Ohhhhh... listen to the thunder! Trixie, I’m not going out there, and neither are you. There s no reason to be scared of anything. Reddy would have been barking like fury if anyone were prowling around. I guess you didn’t think of that, huh?”

  “I did,” Trixie whispered. “I thought the same as you, that Reddy would be watching. Then I remembered some lines I read in a mystery book. One of the detectives said, speaking of a scary time like this, 'There was a curious thing about the dog that night.’

  “The other detective said, ‘The dog did nothing that night.'

  “Then the first detective said, ‘That was the curious thing.'

  “Honey, I’ve always remembered those words. Tonight it's curious about Reddy. Where is he? We have to find out what is going on.”

  “Why can’t we call the boys and your father?”

  “And wake everyone? Give the prowlers a chance to get away? Honey, it’s our one chance... maybe... to help Janie, to find out—”

  “But I’m scared to death!”

  “Honey Wheeler, what possible danger could we be in? We’re right in my very own house in my very own yard with my very own dad and brothers right near. Jeepers, are you going with me or not?” You know I am. I always do. That doesn’t mean that I m not shaking all over. Where are we going?” To the garage. We can slip out the back door and over there. We can see the whole yard from that little window on the landing leading to the haymow. Thank goodness for that window. Our garage used to be a barn, remember. If I’m right, and if someone’s prowling around, we can call to Dad and the boys. Let’s go!”

  Trixie took Honey’s hand and led the way in the darkness.

  Down the stairs they stole, out the back door, then, between lightning flashes, into the garage.

  Click! The door slammed.

  “It’s the wind,” Trixie told Honey. “It’s getting stronger.”

  From their post at the window, they saw jagged heat lightning cut across the garden. Thunder muttered after it. A pine at the comer of the garage scratched ominously.

  Honey shivered. Her teeth chattered. “It’s so creepy out here, Trixie. Can’t we—”

  “Sh!” Trixie warned. “Look!” A chill rippled along her spine.

  Across the vegetable garden, near the fence, the shrubbery stirred before their watching eyes— stirred, then parted!

  A dark shape emerged, crouching, creeping, scuttling, running—straight toward the house and Janie’s window!

  “Quick!” Trixie gasped. “Let’s call my dad. Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

  “Help!” Honey echoed. “Help! Help! Help!” Their voices seemed lost in the thunder.

  They rushed down the stairs and pulled at the garage door.

  “It’s locked!” Trixie cried desperately. “Help me pull, Honey!”

  “I am helping! Oh... Trixie... we... can't... get... out!”

  “Yes, we can! The door locked itself. I heard it click when we came in. Oh, Honey, that mans going straight to Janies window! Yell! Yell like you never yelled before! Darn that thunder. Nobody can hear us! Yell! Pound! Pound hard on the door. Push! Lets both push together. Push hard with your shoulders. Push!”

  Wham!

  The door gave way, sending them sprawling. Trixie jumped up, then pulled Honey to her feet, and they ran, shouting, “Help! Help! Help!”

  Halfway to the house, Trixie saw the man turn and look back. Just then a flash of lightning picked out his features. Black, shining hair gleamed. From a crooked, contorted mouth, a hoarse voice snarled, “You!”

  “It’s Jim’s stepfather!” Trixie gasped. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

  Why didn’t someone turn on the lights in the house?

  Why didn’t someone hear their cries?

  Oh, why didn’t someone come to catch that man before he got away?

  Had he drugged everyone? Was... everyone... in... that... house....

  In her agony, Trixie heard the sound of a starting motor, saw a red taillight disappear down Glen Road, and saw the car swallowed up in tree-shrouded darkness.

  Simultaneously the commotion inside the house became bedlam... a combination of falling furniture, cries of “Where are the lights?” Bobbys shrieks, doors slamming, and rushing feet.

  “Where are you, Trixie?” her father s voice called.

  “Trixie!"” Brian echoed.

  Mart’s and her mother s voices, high with fright, called, “Trixiel”

  “Here!” Trixie and Honey called. “Turn on the garage lightl”

  “The lights are all out, all over the house. What is happening?”

  “He must have cut the wires!”

  “Who? Stop muttering, Trixie, and pull yourself together.” Mr. Belden held his daughter dose to stop her shaking. “There, now, tell me... who cut the wires?”

  “Jim’s stepfather. We saw him. He came here to harm Janie. He was... going... toward... her window! Oh, Daddy!”

  “Harm Janie?Jones? Why?”

  “I don’t know. Daddy, where is Janie?”

  “I’m here, Trixie. Who is J
ones?”

  “Thank heaven you’re all right, Janie. Daddy, where’s Reddy?”

  “Here,” Brian said grimly, “not twenty feet from the garage. Asleep... drugged.”

  “Here’s the thing that did it!” Mart cried, from near Janie’s window, holding up a shiny object. “Jim’s stepfather was going to drug Janie. Why?”

  “The sheriff will have to find out,” said Trixie, her voice shaking.

  It was almost daylight before the sheriff arrived. The telephone lines to Crabapple Farm also had been cut, so Mart and Brian ran to Manor House. Soon the whole area was alerted.

  Lights flashed on in houses.

  Jim, Brian, and Mart took off down Glen Road. Their search was in vain, for Jones had been clever. Cut wires had given him a start that would be impossible to overcome.

  Voices, voices everywhere.Trucks and cars arriving. Trucks and cars leaving. Men from the telephone company, urged on by the police, repaired the cut lines. Electric power came back to the house. A veterinarian arrived to care for Reddy.

  A bright sun followed the night’s storm. A warm wind blew in from the south.

  Dan, summoned by Jim, arrived from Mr. Maypenny’s cottage. He had stopped for Diana and brought her with him. They were told of the night’s events.

  Mrs. Belden, capable as usual, busied herself getting breakfast.

  “Set ten places at the table, Trixie,” she said. “The girls will help you pour orange juice. Will it be pancakes or waffles or scrambled eggs?”

  “Eggs and bacon,” Mr. Belden said. “Then you can sit at the table with us. It keeps you from hopping from stove to table with waffles or pancakes. Will that be all right, gang?”

  “Anything to fill us up, Mrs. Belden. I wonder what it would take to knock out our appetites.” Jim brought paper napkins from the box over the refrigerator and pushed chairs up to the extended kitchen table.

  “Somebody make the toast,” he said as Diana set mats at each place.

  “Toast coming up!” Brian said. “Jim, you get the telephone. It sounds like long distance—you know, more mechanical, longer rings—”

  “I’ll take it,” Trixie said eagerly. “Maybe it’s a report from the sheriff. Hello? Oh, Mrs. Hendricks. It’s that neighbor next door in the Bronx, next to the De Jongs’ house,” she explained to the others hurriedly. “Yes, Mrs. Hendricks? He did? This morning? Didn’t anyone know he was coming? Oh, Juliana will be delirious when I tell her. Yes, ma’am, she’s been here all this time waiting for some papers. I think they came yesterday. I’ll call her right away. Tell Hans we’ll go with Juliana to meet him at the bus in Sleepyside. Yes, probably in about an hour. We’ll check with the bus station about the time of arrival. I can’t wait till we telephone the news to Juliana.”