Студопедия

Главная страница Случайная страница

Разделы сайта

АвтомобилиАстрономияБиологияГеографияДом и садДругие языкиДругоеИнформатикаИсторияКультураЛитератураЛогикаМатематикаМедицинаМеталлургияМеханикаОбразованиеОхрана трудаПедагогикаПолитикаПравоПсихологияРелигияРиторикаСоциологияСпортСтроительствоТехнологияТуризмФизикаФилософияФинансыХимияЧерчениеЭкологияЭкономикаЭлектроника






A Mysterious Diary






 

VARIOUS thoughts raced through Nancy’s mind. Her father distrusted the Wangells. Why had they contacted Terry? And why did he think the diary would aid in solving the mystery of the black keys?

“Please, ” she said, “let’s talk about this some more before you go to the Wangells’ again. But not on the phone. I’m having dinner at George Fayne’s. Could you come there afterward? ”

Terry agreed. At eight o’clock he arrived. After she had introduced him to George’s parents, the Faynes went off to watch a television program in the recreation room.

“The first thing I want to know, ” the young professor said, once he was seated, “is why you distrust the Wangells.”

Nancy explained that several years before, the Wangells had done some traveling in Europe. “When they came back, they set themselves up as experts on rare, old pictures.”

“Fake art dealers? ” Terry suggested.

“Yes. They convinced a widow that they had some rare French paintings. She paid a fancy price for them, only to discover later that the pictures were worthless.”

“Did she sue? ” Terry asked.

“Yes. But the Wangells claimed they had bought the pictures from a young man named DuPlaine, and had been duped themselves—that DuPlaine had painted the pictures and forged a famous artist’s signature.”

“How did you hear of the case? ” Terry wanted to know.

“A friend of Dad’s defended DuPlaine, ” Nancy replied. “DuPlaine admitted he had painted the pictures but said they were only copies he had made, as a student, in the museums. He had sold them as copies for practically nothing.”

“What was the Wangells’ answer to that? ”

“They acted injured and indignant. Mr. Wangell had a bill of sale and all sorts of documents to prove they had paid a high price.”

Terry asked how the case had been settled. Nancy said the court had decided there was insufficient evidence, and had dismissed the case.

“But my father always believed that the Wangells had forged the bill of sale, the documents, and the signatures on the paintings.”

“Nice people, ” Terry commented.

“You see why I’m convinced they’re up to something dishonest in this diary business, ” Nancy said. “It seems odd that Mrs. Wangell won’t let you borrow it.”

“She says she can’t run the risk of losing it, ” Terry replied.

“I wonder if that’s the real reason, ” Nancy mused. “And by the way, you haven’t told me what Mrs. Wangell’s diary has to do with the mystery of the black keys.”

“From skimming through it, I gather it is full of unpublished legends which I suspect may have some bearing on our case.”

“How? ”

“Mrs. Wangell’s sea-captain grandfather retired in Florida, but he’d picked up stories everywhere, especially in Mexico.”

“I see why you want to read the diary.” Nancy smiled. “But I still don’t like your dealing with the Wangells. Promise you won’t stay there. How about going to a small hotel tonight and sending for your baggage so no one will know where you are? ”

“I’d like to please you, ” Terry replied, “and be safe besides.” He grinned. “I’ll go to the Parkview and ask a porter to take my things over there. Ever since that attack, I’ve kept everything locked in my bags, so the move will be easy.”

“I believe we ought to check the story of Mrs. Wangell’s grandfather being a sea captain, and the valuable diary belonging to him, ” Nancy said.

Terry lifted his eyebrows. “I never thought of that. It’s a good idea.”

Nancy and Terry went to the recreation room and Nancy thanked the Faynes for dinner. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the least bit sociable since dinner. And now you’ll think me rude, but would you mind terribly if Terry and I go? I want to stop at Mrs. Prescott’s on the way home.”

George groaned. “Hypers, Nancy, don’t you ever take time out from a mystery? ”

Nancy shook her head laughingly as she and Terry said good-by.

While driving to Mrs. Prescott’s, Nancy explained that the woman’s business was tracing family trees.

“She has studied the history of every family in this area, and is president of the local historical society. She has stacks of records.”

Mrs. Prescott was at home and welcomed her two guests at once into the library. She seemed delighted to have Nancy ask a question on her favorite subject.

“Mrs. Wangell? Let me see, ” she mused, squeezing her pince-nez onto her nose. “She was Lillian Webster before she married.”

The woman’s eyes studied the shelves. “This will take a little while, my dear. Do you mind waiting? ”

“Not at all, ” Nancy replied.

At last Mrs. Prescott turned away from her books and records, and took off her glasses.

“I have checked both of Mrs. Wangell’s grand-fathers, ” she said, “and neither of them was a sea captain.”

Nancy and Terry pretended surprise.

“It’s all in the record, ” Mrs. Prescott insisted. “Neither of them followed the sea at any time.”

“I guess I have the story confused, ” Nancy murmured.

She thanked Mrs. Prescott for her help and hurried out to the car with Terry.

“You see, Mrs. Wangell isn’t to be trusted, ” Nancy said. “I think you should insist upon taking that diary to the hotel and translating it before she becomes suspicious and changes her mind.”

“She’ll never agree to my taking it, ” Terry objected.

Nancy thought a moment. Suddenly she remembered a small camera her father had presented her on her latest birthday. She kept it in the glove compartment of the car. Now she took it out and gave it to Terry.

“Put this in your pocket and take it to the Wangells’ tomorrow. The camera’s loaded with self-developing film. Ask to borrow the diary, and if Mrs. Wangell refuses, take pictures of the pages you think may be especially important.”

Terry promised to do as she suggested. Then, making sure they were not being followed, Nancy drove him to his new hotel, the Parkview.

“Sure you’ll be all right? ” he asked. “I hate to think of your spending the night in that big house without your father.”

“Nonsense! I’m not the least bit worried, ” Nancy said with a laugh.

Though Nancy was not alarmed over the situation, it was quite apparent, when she reached home, that Hannah Gruen was. The faithful housekeeper was waiting at the front door.

“Thank goodness you’re back! ” she exclaimed.

Nancy put an affectionate hand on the woman’s shoulder. “You’re a lamb to be so concerned. But here I am, safe and sound. And maybe tomorrow Dad will come home.”

Nancy went up to her room, undressed, and slid into bed. As she dropped off to sleep, she could hear Hannah still busy in the kitchen. “What a clatter! ” Nancy thought in amusement.

When she awoke, it was in bewildered alarm. Somewhere in the darkened house there was loud banging and jangling. Simultaneously, something crashed heavily and there was the thud of footsteps.

Springing out of bed, Nancy pulled on a robe and rushed into the hall. There was no further sound. The entire house was in darkness.

Her first thought was of Hannah Gruen. She stepped quickly into the housekeeper’s bedroom and flicked on the light. The room was empty, the bed not turned down.

Suddenly Nancy heard a moan from the floor below. She dashed to the head of the stairs and turned on the lower hall light.

Close to the front door lay Hannah Gruen!






© 2023 :: MyLektsii.ru :: Мои Лекции
Все материалы представленные на сайте исключительно с целью ознакомления читателями и не преследуют коммерческих целей или нарушение авторских прав.
Копирование текстов разрешено только с указанием индексируемой ссылки на источник.