Carolyn Keene_Nancy Drew Mystery Stories_01

by The Secret of the Old Clock

  Mr. Drew nodded, and went on, “One day Josiah Crowley became critically ill. Just before his death he attempted to communicate something to the doctor who attended him, but his words, other than ‘will,’ were unintelligible. After the funeral only one will came to light, giving the entire fortune to the Tophams.”

  “Dad, do you suppose Mr. Crowley was trying to tell the doctor something about another will which he had put some place where the Tophams couldn’t find it?” Nancy asked.

  “Very likely,” the lawyer replied. “Probably he intended to leave his money to relatives who had been kind to him. But fate cheated him of the opportunity.”

  “Do you think anybody has looked for another will?” Nancy questioned.

  “I don’t know. But I’m sure of this. If another will shows up, Richard Topham will fight it. The estate is a considerable one, I understand, and they aren’t the kind of people to share good fortune.”

  “Can’t the present will be contested?” Nancy asked.

  “I hear that other relatives have filed a claim, declaring they were told another will had been made in their favor. But unless it is located, I doubt that the matter will ever go further.”

  “But the Tophams don’t deserve the fortune,” Hannah Gruen remarked. “And besides, they don’t need the money. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “It may not seem fair, but it is legal,” Mr. Drew told her, “and I’m afraid nothing can be done about the situation.”

  “Poor Judy and her aunts!” said Nancv.

  “There are others affected in the same way,” her father remarked. “For instance, two young women who live on the River Road. I don’t know their names. I understand they were not related to Mr. Crowley, but were great favorites of his. They are having a struggle and could use some extra money.”

  Nancy lapsed into silence. She felt strongly that a mystery lurked behind the Crowley case.

  “Dad, don’t you believe Josiah Crowley made a second will?” Nancy questioned suddenly.

  “You sound like a trial lawyer, the way you cross-examine me,” Mr. Drew protested, but with evident enjoyment. “To tell the truth, Nancy, I don’t know what to think, but something did happen which might indicate that Mr. Crowley at least intended to make another will.”

  “Please go on!” Nancy begged impatiently.

  “Well, one day nearly a year ago I was in the First National Bank when Crowley came in with Henry Rolsted.”

  “The attorney who specializes in wills and other estate matters?” Nancy inquired.

  “Yes. I had no intention of listening to their conversation, but I couldn’t help overhearing a few words that made me think they were discussing a will. Crowley made an appointment to call at Rolsted’s office the following day.”

  “Oh!” cried Nancy excitedly. “That looks as though Mr. Crowley had made a new will, doesn’t it? But why didn’t Mr. Rolsted say something about it at the time of Mr. Crowley’s death?”

  “For one of many reasons,” Mr. Drew replied. “In the first place, he may never have drawn a new will for Mr. Crowley. And even if he had, the old man might have changed his mind again and torn it up.”

  Before Nancy spoke again, she finished the delicious apple pudding which Hannah had made. Then she looked thoughtfully at her father. “Dad, Mr. Rolsted is an old friend of yours, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. An old friend and college classmate.”

  “Then won’t you please ask him if he ever drew up a will for Mr. Crowley, or knows anything that might solve this mystery?”

  “That’s a rather delicate question, young lady. He may tell me it’s none of my business!”

  “You know he won’t. You’re such good friends he’ll understand why you’re taking a special interest in this case. Will you do it? Please!”

  “I know you like to help people who are in trouble,” her father said. “I suppose I could invite Mr. Rolsted to have lunch with me tomorrow—”

  “Wonderfull” Nancy interrupted eagerly. “That would be a splendid opportunity to find out what he knows about a later will.”

  “All right. I’ll try to arrange a date. How about joining us?”

  Nancy’s face lighted up as she said, “Oh, thank you, Dad. I’d love to. I hope it can be tomorrow, so we won’t have to waste any time trying to find another will.”

  Mr. Drew smiled. “We?” he said. “You mean you might try to find a hidden will if Mr. Crowley wrote one?”

  “I might.” Nancy’s eyes sparkled in anticipation.

  CHAPTER III

  An Unpleasant Meeting

  “WHAT are your plans for this morning, Nancy?” her father asked at the breakfast table.

  “I thought I’d do a little shopping,” she replied. Her eyes twinkled. “There’s a dance coming up at the country club and I’d like to get a new dress.”

  “Then will you phone me about lunch? Or better still, how about eating with me, whether Mr. Rolsted comes or not?”

  “I’ll be there!” Nancy declared gaily.

  “All right. Drop in at my office about twelve-thirty. If Mr. Rolsted does accept my invitation, we’ll try to find out something about Josiah Crowley’s wills.” Mr. Drew pushed back his chair. “I must hurry now or I’ll be late getting downtown.”

  After her father had left, Nancy finished her breakfast, then went to the kitchen to help Hannah Gruen, who had already left the table.

  “Any errands for me?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes, dear. Here’s a list,” the housekeeper replied. “And good luck with your detective work.”

  Hannah Gruen gazed at the girl affectionately and several thoughts raced through her mind. In school Nancy had been very popular and had made many friends. But through no fault of her own, she had made two enemies, Ada and Isabel Topham. This worried Hannah. The sisters, intensely jealous of Nancy, had tried to discredit her in positions she had held in school. But loyal friends had always sprung to Nancy’s defense. As a result, Ada and Isabel had become more unpleasant than ever to Nancy.

  “Thanks for your encouragement,” she said to Hannah a little later, giving her a hug.

  “Whatever you do, Nancy, beware of those Topham sisters. They’d be only too happy to make things difficult for you.”

  “I promise to be on my guard.”

  Before leaving the house, Nancy phoned the Turners. She was glad to hear that Judy had suffered no ill effects from her fall. But she was disappointed that the police had found no clue to the thieves who had stolen the silverware.

  “Please let me know if you learn anything,” Nancy said, and Edna promised to do so.

  Becomingly dressed in a tan cotton suit, Nancy set off in her convertible for the shopping district. She drove down the boulevard, and upon reaching the more congested streets, made her way skillfully through heavy traffic, then pulled into a parking lot.

  “I think I’ll try Taylor’s Department Store first for a dress,” she decided.

  Taylor’s was one of River Heights’ finest stores. Nancy purchased several items for Hannah on the main floor, then went directly to the misses’ wearing apparel section on the second floor.

  Usually Nancy had no trouble finding a sales-clerk. But this particular morning seemed to be an especially busy one in the department, and an extra rush of customers had temporarily overwhelmed the sales force.

  Nancy sat down in a convenient chair to await her turn. Her thoughts wandered to the Turner sisters and little Judy. Would she be able to help them? She was suddenly brought out of her reverie by loud-voiced complaints.

  “We’ve been standing here nearly ten minutes!” a shrill voice declared. “Send a saleswoman to us immediately!”

  Nancy turned to see Ada and Isabel Topham speaking to the floor manager.

  “I’m afraid I can’t,” the man replied regretfully. “There are a number of others ahead of you. All our salespeople are—”

  “Perhaps you don’t know who we are!” Ada interrupted rudely.

  “Ind
eed I do,” the floor manager told her wearily. “I will have a saleswoman here in a few moments. If you will only wait—”

  “We’re not accustomed to waiting,” Isabel Topham told him icily.

  “Such service!” Ada chimed in. “Do you realize that my father owns considerable stock in Taylor’s? If we report your conduct to him, he could have you discharged.”

  “I’m sorry,” the harassed man apologized. “But it is a rule of the store. You must await your turn.”

  Ada tossed her head and her eyes flashed angrily. This did nothing to improve her looks. In spite of the expensive clothes she wore, Ada was not attractive. She was very thin and sallow, with an expression of petulance. Now that her face was distorted with anger, she was almost ugly.

  Isabel, the pride of the Topham family, was rather pretty, but her face lacked character. She had acquired an artificially elegant manner of speaking which, although irritating, was sometimes amusing. It was her mother’s ambition that Isabel marry into a socially prominent family.

  “I pity any future husband of hers!” Nancy thought with a chuckle.

  Suddenly Ada and Isabel saw Nancy, who nodded a greeting. Isabel coldly returned the nod, but Ada gave no indication that she had even noticed Nancy.

  At that moment a saleswoman hurried toward the Topham sisters. At once they began to shower abuse upon the young woman for her failure to wait on them sooner.

  “What is it you wish to look at, Miss Topham?” the clerk said, flushing.

  “Evening dresses.”

  The saleswoman brought out several dresses. Nancy watched curiously as the Tophams, in an unpleasant frame of mind, tossed aside beautiful models with scarcely a second glance. They found fault with every garment.

  “This is a very chic gown,” the saleswoman told them hopefully, as she displayed a particularly attractive dress of lace and chiffon. “It arrived only this morning.”

  Ada picked it up, gave the dress one careless glance, then tossed it into a chair, as the distracted clerk went off to bring other frocks.

  The fluffy gown slipped to the floor in a crumpled mass. To Nancy’s horror Ada stepped on it as she turned to examine another dress. In disgust, Nancy went to pick it up.

  “Leave that alone!” Ada cried out, her eyes blazing. “Nobody asked for your help.”

  “Are you buying this?” Nancy asked evenly.

  “It’s none of your business!”

  As Nancy continued to hold the dress, Ada in a rage snatched it from her hands, causing a long tear in the chiffon skirt.

  “Oh!” Isabel cried out. “Now you’ve done it! We’d better get out of here, Ada!”

  “And why?” her haughty sister shrilled. “It was Nancy Drew’s fault! She’s always making trouble.”

  “It was not my fault,” Nancy said.

  “Come on, Ada,” Isabel urged, “before that clerk gets back.”

  Reluctantly Ada followed Isabel out of the department. As they rushed toward a waiting elevator, Nancy gazed after them. At this moment the saleswoman reappeared with an armful of lovely frocks. She stared in bewilderment at the torn dress.

  “Where did my customers go?” she asked Nancy worriedly.

  Nancy pointed toward the elevator, but made no comment. Instead she said, “I’m looking for an evening dress myself. This torn one is very pretty. Do you think it could be mended?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” the woebegone clerk wailed. “I’ll probably be held responsible and I can’t afford to pay for the dress.”

  “I’m sure Taylor’s wouldn’t ask you to do that,” Nancy said kindly. “If there’s any trouble, I’ll speak to the manager myself. What usually happens is that such a dress is greatly reduced.”

  “Thank you,” the clerk replied. “I’ll call Miss Reed, the fitter, and see what can be done.”

  “First, let me try on the dress,” Nancy said, smiling.

  They found a vacant fitting room and Nancy took off her suit and blouse. Then she slipped the lovely pale-blue dance creation over her head and the saleswoman zipped it up.

  “It’s darling on you,” she said enthusiastically.

  Nancy grinned. “I kind of like myself in it,” she said. “Please call the fitter now.”

  Presently Miss Reed, a gray-haired woman, appeared. Within seconds she had made a change in an overlap of the chiffon skirt. The tear was no longer visible and the style of the dress was actually improved.

  “I told our manager what happened,” said the saleswoman. “If you want the dress, he will reduce the price fifty percent.”

  “How wonderful!” Nancy exclaimed. Laughing, she said, “That price will fit into my budget nicely. I’ll take the dress. Please send it.” She gave her name and address. To herself she added, “Ada Topham did me a favor. But if she ever finds out what happened, she’ll certainly be burned up!” Nancy suppressed a giggle.

  “It’s been a real pleasure waiting on you, Miss Drew,” the saleswoman said after Miss Reed left and Nancy was putting on her suit. “But how I dread to see those Topham sisters come in here! They’re so unreasonable. And they’ll be even worse when they get Josiah Crowley’s money.”

  The woman lowered her voice. “The estate hasn’t been settled, but the girls are counting on the fortune already. Last week I heard Ada say to her sister, ‘Oh, I guess there’s no question about our getting old Crowley’s fortune. But I wish Father would stop worrying that somebody is going to show up with a later will which may do us out of it.’ ”

  Nancy was too discreet to engage in gossip with the saleswoman. But she was interested and excited about the information. The fact that Mr. Topham was disturbed indicated to her that he too suspected Josiah Crowley had made a second will!

  The conversation reminded Nancy of her date. She glanced at her wrist watch and saw that it was after twelve o’clock.

  “I must hurry or I’ll be late for an appointment with my dad,” she told the saleswoman.

  Nancy drove directly to her father’s office. Although she was a few minutes ahead of the appointed time, she found that he was ready to leave.

  “What luck, Dad?” Nancy asked eagerly. “Did Mr. Rolsted accept your luncheon invitation?”

  “Yes. We are to meet him at the Royal Hotel in ten minutes. Do you still think I should quiz him about the Crowley will?”

  “Oh, I’m more interested than ever in the case.” She told her father about the saleswoman’s gossipy remarks.

  “Hm,” said Mr. Drew. “It’s not what you’d call evidence, but the old saying usually holds good, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’ Come, let’s go!”

  The Royal Hotel was located less than a block away, and Nancy and her father quickly walked the distance. Mr. Rolsted was waiting in the lobby. Carson Drew introduced his daughter, then the three made their way to the dining room where a table had been reserved for them.

  At first the conversation centered about a variety of subjects. As the luncheon progressed the two lawyers talked enthusiastically of their college days together and finally of their profession. Nancy began to fear that the subject of the Crowley estate might never be brought up.

  Then, after the dessert course, Mr. Drew skillfully turned the conversation into a new channel and mentioned some strange cases which he had handled.

  “By the way,” he said, “I haven’t heard the details of the Crowley case. How are the Tophams making out? I understand other relatives are trying to break the will.”

  For a moment Mr. Rolsted remained silent. Was he reluctant to enter into a discussion of the matter? Nancy wondered.

  Finally the lawyer said quietly, “The settlement of the estate wasn’t given to me, Carson. But I confess I’ve followed it rather closely because of something that happened a year ago. As the present will stands, I do not believe it can be broken.”

  “Then the Tophams fall heir to the entire estate,” Mr. Drew commented.

  “Yes, unless a more recent will is uncovered.”

  �
��Another will?” Carson Drew inquired innocently. “Then you believe Crowley made a second one?”

  Mr. Rolsted hesitated as though uncertain whether or not he should divulge any further information. Then, with a quick glance about, he lowered his voice and said, “Of course this is strictly confidential—”

  CHAPTER IV

  Racing the Storm

  “CONFIDENTIAL?” Mr. Drew repeated, looking at Mr. Rolsted. “You may rest assured that whatever you tell us will not be repeated to anyone.”

  “Well, I’ll say this much,” Mr. Rolsted went on, “about a year ago Josiah Crowley came to me and said he wanted to draw up a new will. He indicated that he intended to spread out his bequests among several people. He expressed a desire to write the will himself, and asked me a number of questions. I took him to my office and told him exactly how to proceed. When he left, he promised to have me look over the document after he had drawn it up.”

  “Then you actually saw the will?” Mr. Drew asked in surprise.

  “No. Strange to say, Crowley never came back. I don’t know whether he ever wrote the will or not.”

  “And if he did, there would be a chance that it would not be legal?” Nancy spoke up.

  “Yes. He might have typed it and signed the paper without a witness. In this state at least two witnesses are required and three are advisable.”

  “What would happen,” Nancy asked, “if a person were ill or dying and had no witness, and wanted to make a will?”

  Mr. Rolsted smiled. “That sometimes happens. If the person writes the will himself by hand and signs it, so there’s no doubt the same person did both, the surrogate’s office will accept it for probate.”

  “Then if Mr. Crowley wrote out and signed a new will, it would be legal,” Nancy commented.

  “That’s right. But there’s another thing to remember. It’s pretty risky for someone who is not a lawyer to draw up a will that cannot be broken.”

  Mr. Drew nodded. “If Josiah Crowley left any loophole in a will he wrote personally, the Tophams would drag the matter into court.”

  “Yes. It’s a foregone conclusion that the Tophams will fight to keep the fortune whether they have a right to it or not. I believe some other relatives have filed a claim, but up to the moment they have no proof that a later will exists.”