The Mystery at Lilac Inn

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The Mystery at Lilac Inn Page 5

by Carolyn Keene


  The noon meal was a rather uncomfortable one. Mrs. Willoughby was obviously dejected and ate little. Maud maintained an almost sulky silence. Nancy was preoccupied, though somewhat disappointed that John was not present. Also, a startling idea had come to her about the diamond in her purse: The noise which had awakened her during the night might have been made by an intruder leaving, perhaps by the bathroom window, after planting the diamond.

  After luncheon Anna the waitress beckoned Nancy aside and handed her a note. “I just took this message from Mr. McBride on the phone. I was passing the desk and answered the ring.”

  Nancy thanked the girl and read the message. “Nancy: I’ve found an important clue to the case. Come in your canoe to the dock where you saw the man with the crew cut. Wear your diving gear.”

  Nancy was intrigued. What was John’s discovery? What kind of clue would necessitate underwater equipment?

  Since Maud was there, Nancy merely told the others she had a date with John, saying, “Dad warned me not to go anywhere alone, but if John’s with me, I’ll be safe.” Nancy then hurried to put on her bathing suit. Over this she slipped her rubber insulation suit. Then, carrying mask, aqualung, flippers, and an underwater camera on a strap around her neck, she went to the dock.

  Soon Nancy was paddling her canoe down the river, scanning the shore ahead for the place near which she and Helen had capsized. She finally sighted the dock where Helen had seen the man in the rowboat. On the bank nearby was a blue canoe with Lilac Inn painted on its side.

  “John!” called Nancy, looking about. No answer. Again Nancy called his name. Silence.

  A little distance beyond the dock the girl noticed a man fishing from the beach. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat. Cupping her hands, Nancy called out and asked if he had seen the young man who had come in the canoe.

  “Yeah,” the fisherman yelled in a nasal voice. “He went underwater a couple of minutes ago—dived into the middle of the river opposite his canoe.”

  “Thanks.” Nancy was mystified. Why hadn’t John waited for her to arrive? He knew it was dangerous for anyone to go skin diving alone.

  Hurriedly she beached her own craft, donned her mask and aqualung, and slipped on the flippers. Then she swam out to the middle of the river.

  She made a quick dive to begin her descent. As she straightened out, Nancy kicked with her fins and propelled herself with her arms. The water became darker and cooler as she descended. Small fish flitted by. Presently Nancy realized she was nearing the bottom. She estimated that the river was about twenty feet deep at this spot.

  When she reached the muddy floor, she glanced about in every direction. There was no sign of John—only underwater plants and several large rocks.

  Nancy swam cautiously and watched for crevices as she went forward. Every moment she expected to see John. Had he been underwater long? Had he met with a freak accident and been hurt? Even an expert skin diver can overestimate his physical abilities, she realized.

  All of a sudden Nancy stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened and a chill went up her spine. Protruding from a massive rocky overhang was something that resembled a shark’s head!

  “It can’t be!” she gasped inwardly. “Sharks don’t live in fresh water!”

  The sinister shape, however, was far too large to be an ordinary fish. Nancy’s fear gave way to curiosity, as the object remained stationary. She inched forward, holding the camera in front of her and cocking the shutter. Three more strokes and she would have a good view of the mysterious form.

  One—two—Nancy was about to shoot, when a slight movement in the water caused her to whirl around. A spear came hurtling from behind a big rock to Nancy’s right. The next moment the tip of the spear lodged in the lens of her camera!

  CHAPTER VIII

  A Hoax Revealed

  NANCY’S heart thumped wildly as the spear quivered in her camera. Someone had tried to injure her! Why?

  The girl detective’s first instinct was to avoid further danger and rise to the surface as quickly as possible. But she paused to look around for the spear thrower. There was no sign of him.

  “He may be getting ready for another attack, though,” she thought. “I’d better not take a chance.”

  Gripping the camera, with the embedded spear, in both hands, she swam upward. At the surface, Nancy set out for shore and climbed to the dock. She glanced about for the fisherman, but he was not there.

  Nancy removed her skin-diving gear, then examined the stainless-steel spear. It was the simplest type used for underwater fishing. The weapon was six feet long, with a sharp, thin tip. Nancy shuddered as she pulled it from the lens of her camera.

  “I’d better go back to the inn,” she thought. “Dad was right about it being dangerous for me to be alone.”

  Nancy had been preoccupied with her narrow escape. Now she suddenly remembered John. To her astonishment, the Lilac Inn canoe was gone. Had John surfaced while Nancy was underwater, and, not seeing her, returned to the inn? Also, she wondered whether John was the skin diver seen by the fisherman on the river.

  Nancy’s head whirled with theories as she pushed her canoe into the water and stepped into it. Recalling the strange, sharklike object, she thought, “Perhaps the spear thrower didn’t want me to photograph the object? And was that what John meant about a clue?”

  As Nancy tied up at the inn dock, she saw that the blue canoe was there. “Well, anyway, he’s back.”

  As the young sleuth headed for her cottage, she heard Helen call. Nancy stopped, and Helen, Emily, and Mrs. Willoughby hurried forward. They stared aghast at the spear in Nancy’s hand.

  “N-Nancy! You’ve been in danger!” Helen gasped.

  Nancy gave a wry smile. Just then John McBride, dressed in slacks and sports shirt, hurried toward the group.

  Before Nancy had a chance to question him, John exclaimed, “Fine thing, Nancy Drew! Standing me up to go skin diving!”

  “Standing you up?” Nancy retorted. “Where were you?”

  “In the apple orchard,” John replied. “Waiting for you, where I said I’d be.”

  Nancy shook her head. “There’s been a horrible mix-up. I’ll tell my story first.”

  When she had finished, John and the others expressed amazement and concern.

  “Nancy,” the young man said, “I didn’t phone any message to you. Someone else did, apparently to keep you from seeing me in the orchard.”

  “What’s all this about the orchard?” Nancy demanded.

  John reminded her that at eleven o’clock she had hailed him from the patio. “I had just returned after failing to find the missing tools. You were wearing the pink dress you had on the night before. You said you had something to discuss with me, and asked if I would meet you at twelve-thirty in the apple orchard. I said I’d be glad to.”

  “Why, I was in Benton at eleven o’clock!” Nancy exclaimed. “I wasn’t the girl you talked to!”

  John looked dumfounded. “But the girl sounded and looked exactly like you.” He added that he had taken a sandwich with him to the orchard, but left at one-thirty, deciding that Nancy had changed her mind.

  Emily caught her breath. “Oh, Nancy! It must have been the girl who is impersonating you!”

  John nodded somberly. “I’m afraid so. I sure was fooled. And someone wanted to get you away from here and even harm you, perhaps fatally!”

  Helen looked distressed, and Mrs. Willoughby wrung her hands. “We must report all this to the police immediately. No one at Lilac Inn is safe.”

  Emily, though concerned, still held back. “Please—not until Dick gets home tomorrow. In the meantime, Nancy may solve the mystery.”

  Her aunt reluctantly agreed. Nancy had been silent, trying to fit the various elements of the puzzle together. It was evident to her that her “twin” had firsthand knowledge as to where she and others at the inn would be at certain times. Nancy was certain the girl’s actions further indicated accomplices, and dangerous ones at that, judging fr
om the spear thrower. Offhand, Nancy could not imagine anyone at the inn being involved in such scheming, not even Maud.

  “Has anything else been stolen?” she asked abruptly.

  “I haven’t heard of any losses,” Emily replied.

  “What’s the next move, Detective Drew?” Helen spoke up.

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy replied thoughtfully. “But I do agree, for the time being, it would be best not to have the police investigate either the river or the inn. Since our enemies apparently want me out of the way, it must mean they want to stay here. Let’s hope we can catch them before they decide to leave!”

  John changed the subject. “I’d like to investigate the place in the river where you saw that ‘shark,’ Nancy. Also, I’ll try to find out who used the inn’s canoe. See you later.”

  Nancy returned to her cottage. She put away the skin-diving gear and set the spear in the closet.

  “I’d better hang on to this for evidence, even though there probably aren’t any fingerprints on it except mine.”

  She took out her pink dress. It looked crisp and fresh.

  “My impersonator sure is a quick-change artist,” Nancy thought. “She must have let herself into the cottage while I was in Benton, and returned the dress while I was at lunch.

  “I’d better lock every window and put a padlock on the door,” she determined, selecting a green cotton dress to wear, “and also make some inquiries around here. Maybe someone saw a girl enter this cabin.”

  A newspaper Helen had bought that morning lay on a table. Absently Nancy looked at the first page. Suddenly her eyes widened. With interest she read a report about a red panel truck having been stolen two days before.

  “An identifying mark,” she read further, “is a chrome eagle ornament on the hood. The truck is believed to be in the vicinity of Benton.”

  Was this the truck which had forced her car into the ditch? Lieutenant Brice must have pursued her lead, and found out that the vehicle had been stolen.

  “No wonder the driver was in such a hurry!” Nancy thought as she left the cottage.

  On the way to join the others, Nancy had a sudden hunch. Mary Mason had left the inn abruptly, with the flimsy excuse that the place was haunted. “I never pursued that lead,” the young sleuth told herself. “Anna was here then. Maybe she knows where Mary Mason is.”

  Before joining her friends, Nancy hurried to the kitchen to talk to Anna. The waitress was not there. A strange girl came up to her, and introduced herself as Jean Holmes. Jean’s complexion was very pale, and her brown hair thick and combed close to her face. She wore heavy glasses.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, smiling shyly.

  Nancy inquired where Anna was. Jean said she had gone to the storage cellar. Nancy went downstairs and found Anna bringing out a supply of preserved fruits and jellies.

  “Anna,” Nancy said, “I’m trying to locate Mary Mason who used to work here. Do you know her home address?”

  Anna shook her head, but said she would inquire among the other waitresses who had been there when Mary was.

  “Thank you,” said Nancy, and went to join her group on the patio.

  She noticed that Maud Potter was not present. At the first opportunity, she asked Helen about this.

  “Oh, Maud’s been very exclusive. She stayed in her room all afternoon.” Helen added dryly, “She hasn’t been missed.”

  Maud did show up later and went to the dining room with the group. Nancy asked John if he had been rewarded in his sleuthing.

  He shook his head. “I saw no ‘sharks,” and no one here admits to having used the canoe.”

  This reminded Nancy of the fisherman she had seen on the river. Because of his hat, she had not been able to tell if his hair was crew cut. But she wondered if he might be the man Helen had seen after the girls’ canoe had capsized.

  At the supper table Nancy confided this idea to her friend in a low tone. Helen wrinkled her brow. “From the general impression I had of Mr. Crew Cut, Nancy, he could be the same one. But of course I only saw him from a distance.”

  Both girls became aware that Maud was eying them closely. “Planning another skin-diving excursion, Nancy?” the woman asked sarcastically.

  Mrs. Willoughby hurriedly put in, “Oh, yes. I told Maud the latest—er—troubles.”

  “I should hope so!” Maud said sharply. “If there are dangerous people lurking around here, I’d like to be warned.”

  “Nancy’s the one in danger,” Emily reminded Maud coldly.

  To change the subject, Nancy observed, “The new waitress, Jean Holmes, seems to be very efficient.”

  Maud tossed her head. “I do have an instinct about people, you know.” But she was clearly pleased at Nancy’s remark.

  After supper Nancy was leaving the room with the others when Anna came up behind her. “I have some information for you, Miss Drew,” the waitress whispered. “Mary Mason mostly kept to herself, but Kitty, one of the girls, thinks Mary commuted to Dockville every night. She also remembers that Mary once worked for a Mrs. Ernest Stonewell in River Heights.”

  “You’re very helpful, Anna,” Nancy said. “Thank you.”

  Nancy went to the hall desk and picked up a telephone directory. There were several Masons listed in Dockville, which was near River Heights. The young sleuth dialed the number of each Mason. Nobody knew Mary, the waitress. Nancy now looked up Mrs. Ernest Stonewell’s address.

  “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  The rest of the evening Nancy spent playing a lively game of ping-pong with Helen, Emily, and John. Around eleven o’clock everyone said good night. John walked with the two girls to their cottage and warned them to secure the new inside bolt on the door, as well as the bathroom window. “I’m within calling distance if you need me.” He smiled.

  “Thanks, John,” said Nancy. “Every window sill in the bedroom will have a book on it. If any intruder tries getting in, I hope he won’t notice the book, and will knock it off and wake us!”

  Before going to sleep, Nancy thought happily that her father would soon be home. How much she had to tell him!

  Helen, in the meantime, was wide awake. She tossed and turned restlessly. Finally, at midnight, she got up and put on her bathrobe and slippers.

  “Maybe some fresh air will help me sleep,” Helen thought.

  Despite John’s warning, she slid the bolt and left the cottage, closing the door quietly. The grounds were dark and silent. Helen turned toward the lilac grove.

  Suddenly she saw a flickering light ahead, near the grove. Curious, she drew closer. A veiled figure with black hair and wearing a glowing white gown confronted her. The next instant Helen was struck on the back of her head and fell unconsciousl

  CHAPTER IX

  The Search

  BACK in the cottage, Nancy was awakened by an insistent ticking. She sat up and glanced in annoyance at her alarm clock. It certainly seemed noisy.

  Suddenly Nancy realized that her friend’s bed was empty. “Helen?” she called, thinking that perhaps the other girl had gone to get a glass of water. There was no reply.

  “Where can Helen be at one-thirty in the morning?” Nancy asked herself. Hurriedly she put on robe and slippers and picked up her flashlight. When she found the front door of the cottage unbolted, she felt a pang of alarm.

  Outside, Nancy searched the cottage area, calling her friend’s name again and again. No response. Finally, thoroughly alarmed, Nancy decided to ask John for help. She knocked on his door. No answer. Perplexed, Nancy was about to leave when a twig crackled a short distance away. She turned off her flashlight and crouched behind a low shrub. Who was approaching? She was relieved a moment later to discern the familiar outline of John.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Nancy exclaimed, hurrying toward him. “Have you seen Helen?” she asked. “I woke up and found her gone.”

  “No, I haven’t seen her,” John replied. “I couldn’t sleep so I walked down the road. Come on. We’ll both look.�


  They started across the lawn.

  “Let’s check the inn first,” Nancy proposed. “Maybe Helen’s there.”

  The grounds seemed eerie in the moonless night as the couple walked quietly, beaming their flashes ahead of them. They circled the inn. The place was completely dark, with the exception of the tiny night light in the main lobby.

  Nancy suggested they try all the doors. “If one is unlocked, it may mean Helen is inside.”

  The front, rear, patio, and kitchen doors were securely bolted from the inside.

  “Perhaps Helen couldn’t sleep and went for a walk near the river,” John suggested.

  Quickly he and Nancy went to the waterfront. Starting with the area near the dock, they proceeded along the bank, calling Helen’s name. As they came to the lilac grove, John said:

  “I don’t think—”

  He was interrupted by a low moan which came from beyond a lilac bush. The couple hurried toward it, with Nancy focusing the beam of her flashlight on the ground.

  “Helen!” she exclaimed in horror.

  Before them lay her friend, unconscious.

  Quickly Nancy and John knelt beside Helen. John held the flashlight while Nancy made a rapid examination. Helen’s pulse was normal, but there was an ugly lump on the back of her head.

  John looked grim as Nancy chafed Helen’s wrists. “She must have been struck by a blunt instrument,” he said.

  Helen’s eyelids flickered open. For a moment the girl looked terrified, then smiled feebly as she recognized John and Nancy.

  “Wh-what happened?” she murmured.

  “Don’t talk,” Nancy said soothingly, but Helen insisted upon sitting up.

  “Oh, my head!” she groaned, and leaned against Nancy.

  A few minutes later the injured girl was able to talk. She explained about leaving the cabin and walking toward the lilac grove, then told of the strange figure in white she had seen.

  Helen described the long translucent robe the figure had worn. “The last thing I saw was that ghostly figure waving her arms back and forth, as if signaling to someone. Then I was struck on the head and blacked out.”

 

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