A Ghost in the Attic

The outbreak of the storm seemed to relieve Lisa Thorpe's pent-up emotional tension. She gave a nervous giggle of relief. " It's awful of me to say so, Nancy, but I'm glad he's gone! "

Nancy grinned understandingly. " I was about to apologize for driving your guest away. But if you don't mind, I guess I don't either."

Lisa shook her head in mock regret. " Poor Lee. He's such a stuffed shirt and doesn't even realize it. He thinks he's the art world's gift to women."

" Actually, I got the impression he considers you two practically engaged."

" My father wishes we were, " Lisa confided unhappily. " Lee's quite rich, you see, so Daddy thinks we'd be a good match. But personally I can't stand him—he's such a bore! All he ever talks about is himself and his great artistic talent."

" Does your father often try to make decisions for you? " Nancy inquired gently.

" All the time! " Lisa seemed only too eager to pour out her troubles to a sympathetic listener. " Daddy's always been like that, ever since Mother died when I was ten—I mean, bossing me around, telling me how to act, where to go, what to do and what not to do."

She went on less resentfully, as if trying to see both points of view. " He means well, I suppose. He probably tries to be both a mother and father to me. The trouble is, his idea of mothering is overseeing everything I do—nagging me to do this or that—pecking at me like a mother hen. Or a mother rooster, if you can imagine such a thing! " Lisa added with another nervous giggle. " I guess you can't really know what it's like, though, unless you've lost your own mother."

" As a matter of fact, I have, " Nancy responded quietly. " My mother died when I was three. But we have a very kind-hearted, motherly housekeeper, who helped to make up for the loss. And being a lawyer, Dad tends to persuade people rather than boss them around. Your father's a business tycoon, isn't he?... so I suppose he's probably more used to issuing orders and having them obeyed."

" That's Daddy, all right! " Lisa nodded vigorously.

From the other girl's timid yet outspoken manner, as if she were saying things she'd never before dared to express openly, Nancy sensed that Lisa was scared of her father and his dictatorial ways. At the same time, a bond of sympathy was already forming between the two girls because both had been motherless since an early age.

Lisa related that her mother was the daughter of Louise Duval's twin brother, Louis, who had moved abroad with his family while pursuing his career as a diplomat. Later, after his daughter grew up, she had returned to River Heights and married Norton Thorpe.

Even though the latter was rich and autocratic, it was still not clear to Nancy why he had taken such an instant dislike to Pierre Michaud.

" Since your mother lived abroad for so long, " Nancy remarked, " maybe she would have been more friendly toward Pierre than your father seems to be."

Lisa nodded reflectively. " Yes, I think she might have. Somehow I feel Great-Aunt Louise would have approved of him too, even though from what Mother used to tell me, she was quite regal and stuffy in her own way."

Lisa said that after Louise Duval's death, the family decided her mansion was too large and costly to keep up, so it was finally sold and torn down to make way for an industrial park.

" There must have been many old possessions of the Duval family in her mansion, " Nancy said thoughtfully. " Do you know what happened to them when the house was sold? "

" I believe most of the furnishings were sold along with it. But Mother probably had the family items moved here. Anyhow, there's certainly a lot of old-fashioned junk and paraphernalia up in the attic, Nancy, and you're welcome to look through it."

The storm was still raging outside, though not as loudly as before. During a lull in the conversation, the girls suddenly heard creaky footsteps somewhere overhead.

" What was that? " Lisa exclaimed.

From her startled expression, Nancy saw that the sounds were quite unexpected.

" Footsteps, I think. Is anyone else in the house? "

" Just Booker. He's Daddy's old valet and manservant. But he's out in the kitchen, I'm sure! And those footsteps sounded high up—almost as if they were coming from the attic! "

Lisa's timid nature was apparent from her look of growing alarm. Putting the situation into words seemed to frighten her even more— especially after she went to check on Booker and found him shining silverware in the pantry.

Just as Lisa returned to the drawing room, followed by the elderly servant, several more faint creaks were heard from above.

" I think we should call the police, Nancy, don't you? " she said anxiously.

The young sleuth agreed, if only to reassure the nervous girl. " Maybe that would be wisest, Lisa."

Nancy concealed her own impatience as the servant went off to the telephone to carry out Lisa's instructions.

Tense moments dragged by while they waited for a scout car to arrive. Several more sounds were heard.

Nancy fretted inwardly that some unknown intruder might be going through the last remaining personal effects of Miss Louise Duval. She herself had come to the Thorpes' house hoping to find in their attic a clue that would help her solve the mystery of Miss Duval's letter to Pierre's grandfather. But someone else may have had the same idea.

At this very moment, the intruder might be making off with important evidence!

" Lisa, I'm going upstairs and find out who's there, " the teenage detective announced abruptly.

" Oh, Nancy! Are you sure that's safe? " Lisa quavered.

" I'll be careful, " Nancy promised.

Booker insisted on accompanying her, armed with a flashlight and rolling pin, while Lisa brought up the rear.

The three ascended to the second floor, then quietly opened the attic stairway door. Nancy thought she heard another faint creak of footsteps above, but cautioned the others with a finger to her lips.

The trio now tiptoed hastily up another flight of stairs to the topmost level of the house. From the chilly draft of air on their faces, and the audible patter of rain outside, it was evident that one of the attic windows must be open; otherwise, silence reigned.

Booker switched on his flashlight and shone the bright yellow beam all around. There was no one in sight! However, he checked around carefully among the cluttered items.

Satisfied at last that no housebreaker was crouched in hiding, he went back down to the foot of the stairs and switched on the lights.

With the attic now brightly illuminated, the two girls could see that a casement window was flapping open. But if any intruder had indeed entered this way, they had obviously failed to take him by surprise.

Door chimes sounded from below.

" That must be the police! " Lisa exclaimed in relief. The girls and Booker hurried downstairs to let them in.

The two patrol-car officers who had answered the call wiped their feet carefully and apologized for any tracking. Their uniform slickers were streaming with moisture from the storm.

After accompanying the girls upstairs and looking around, they seemed doubtful that any intruder had broken into the attic.

" Sure you weren't just imagining things? " one policeman said, pushing back his cap and scratching his forehead.

" What we heard certainly sounded like footsteps, " Lisa said hesitantly.

" This window was open, " Nancy pointed out, " and as you can see, it doesn't fit its frame very tightly. Someone could have climbed up that tree just outside and slipped in a knife to open the latch."

" But on a rainy night like this, he sure would have left wet footprints, " the officer argued, " and I don't see any around."

Nevertheless, the two policemen promised to report the incident to headquarters and also to scour the neighborhood for any suspicious characters. After they had left, the girls went back upstairs to search for clues to the mystery Nancy was trying to solve.

The attic was crowded with discarded furniture, piles of back-issue magazines, boxes, crates, and old-fashioned luggage. Much of the clutter was furred with dust, but in places the dust had been freshly rubbed away!

" Nancy, this certainly looks as though someone's been up here! " Lisa declared.

The young detective nodded, frowning slightly. " Yes, and I've just realized why there were no wet prints, Lisa. The intruder could have pulled heavy socks over his shoes to avoid tracking, or else simply have taken off his shoes or rubbers before he climbed in."

The distant sound of a door opening and slamming, followed by a voice drifting up from below, indicated that someone had just arrived.

" That must be my father, " Lisa murmured. From her pale-wide-eyed expression and sudden nervousness, Nancy realized she was worried over how he might react to her visitor.

Presently Norton Thorpe came stalking up the attic stairs. He stopped short on seeing Nancy Drew and glared at her angrily for a moment. Then with an ill-tempered snort he turned on his tremulous daughter. " Now I know you should stay from that worthless, scoundrel of a Frenchman! " Mr. Thorpe declared in a loud, contemptuous voice.