Read The Hidden Window Mystery Online

Authors: Carolyn Keene

Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Mystery & Detective, #Juvenile Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #Mystery and Detective Stories

The Hidden Window Mystery (5 page)

BOOK: The Hidden Window Mystery
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As he was speaking, Nancy caught sight of a magazine carelessly thrown behind one of the benches. The advertisement on the back was the same as that on the copy of Continental she had seen.
Unnoticed by the others, she slid her foot under the bench and flipped the magazine over. It was the issue of the magazine that carried the story of the missing stained-glass window!
Nancy was amazed. Surely Mr. Bradshaw must have seen the article. Why had he denied knowing about it?
A sudden thought struck the young detective. Bradshaw might be searching for the window himself!
CHAPTER VI
The Paint Clue
 
 
 
NANCY wondered if Mr. Bradshaw knew where the peacock window was.
Suddenly Bess realized that Nancy was not paying attention to the artist. Wondering why, she followed the other girl’s gaze and saw the magazine. Instantly she knew Nancy was suspicious. Bess also noticed that Mr. Bradshaw was looking in the young detective’s direction.
To warn her friend, Bess said, “Isn’t this talk fascinating, Nancy? I had no idea that the art of making stained-glass windows was so intricate.”
With a grateful smile at Bess, Nancy nodded and replied, “Yes, it’s extremely interesting. But to me, designing the picture would be the most intriguing part.”
Mr. Bradshaw’s eyes lighted up. “I agree with you a hundred per cent, Miss Drew. And it is probably the most difficult part. Beginners rarely fashion a picture that can be used for a stained-glass window. It takes a great deal of practice to plan a design that will cut into pieces of the right shape.”
Presently, not wanting to take any more of Mr. Bradshaw’s time, the girls told him how much they appreciated his courtesy and help and said good-by.
As the girls drove off, Bess mentioned the
Continental
and asked Nancy if she thought Mr. Bradshaw knew more than he was willing to admit.
“Yes, I do.”
After hearing about the magazine, George remarked, “Well, I can’t blame him for wanting to win the reward himself.” Then she asked. “Nancy, did you learn anything that might help you find the window?”
“Nothing in particular,” her friend answered. “But I have a hunch it’s in this area.”
“Do you think Mr. Bradshaw knows where it is?” Bess questioned.
“Probably not.”
“Then it may still be a race,” said George enthusiastically. “And I hope you win!”
At Seven Oaks the girls found Susan in the living room, studying picture pamphlets of various automobiles. She looked up and smiled.
“What do you think?” she said, excited. “Cliff wants me to get a new car.”
“You’re lucky,” Bess commented. “Have you decided what make?”
Susan had not made up her mind and was waiting for the girls’ advice. “What kind do you all have?” she asked.
Each of the three girls’ families had a different make, but both Bess and George declared that Nancy’s convertible was their favorite. “If you get one like hers, you’ll love it,” Bess added.
Susan stood up and said impulsively, “I’ll do it. Come on down to the showroom with me and we’ll see what they have.”
Within an hour they were back at Seven Oaks, with Susan driving her new convertible. George, who had ridden back with her, stepped from the light-green automobile.
“Hypers, this is a record for buying a car!” she said, laughing.
Nancy and Bess arrived in the station wagon just as Cliff came out to inspect the new purchase. He congratulated his wife on her fine selection, then said to Nancy, “While you stay here you’re welcome to use either of our cars. There’s only one condition attached.”
“What’s that?”
“You must solve at least one mystery.”
Nancy laughed merrily, then asked Susan and Cliff how plans were coming for Garden Week.
“Everything is about ready,” Cliff answered. “But the committee is disappointed that the owner of Cumberland Manor still refuses to open it to the public.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t have better luck on the first try,” said Nancy. “But perhaps I can think of another approach.”
As the girls entered the front hall of the house, Nancy noticed that a letter addressed to her was lying on a mahogany table. It was from Hannah Gruen.
Nancy read it and frowned. Mrs. Dondo was trying to make trouble again! 1 The woman had been telling people in River Heights that Nancy had left town to avoid paying the hundred dollars that had been lost in the mail. Suddenly Nancy smiled as she read further.
“But don’t worry, Nancy. Your father is taking care of things. He went over to her house and talked to her sternly. Mrs. Dondo actually began to tremble and said she would not say anything more against you.”
Nancy told Bess and George what the letter said.
“Well good for your dad!” said Bess. “That woman needs to be put in her place.”
George spoke up. “But I’m afraid she won’t keep her promise. Nancy, you’d better watch out!”
The girls continued to discuss the unpleasant woman and her brother. When they joined Susan and Cliff on the patio just before dusk, Nancy asked them if they had ever heard of Alonzo Rugby.
Both of them shook their heads, and Cliff looked in the telephone directory. The name was not listed.
“He’s an artist,” Nancy explained.
“In that case,” Cliff said, “the head of the university art department might help us. I’ll call him.”
He went inside to phone. When he returned, Cliff reported that Alonzo Rugby was not known to the department head.
“That’s strange,” Nancy remarked. “We were told that he’s a talented artist.” She related the story Mrs. Dondo had told about her brother, who was supposed to live in Charlottesville.
Obligingly Cliff telephoned an art dealer in town; then Susan called a woman artist in the area. Neither of them had ever heard of Alonzo Rugby.
“Oh, let’s forget him,” Bess suggested, “and enjoy this heavenly evening.”
Nancy did not reply. She knew she could not forget the man. The young detective had a strong hunch that he had been responsible for the fake telegram to her. His only reason for sending it must have been to keep her out of the area. But why?
“If he’s ‘good for nothing,’ as his brother-in-law says,” Nancy thought, “he may be involved in some underhanded scheme. But where do I fit in?”
Just then, melodic chimes sounded from inside the house. Anna always rang to announce dinner. The group rose and went inside.
The colonial dining room of Seven Oaks was charming. A crystal chandelier highlighted the handsome mahogany furniture, as well as the exquisite silver candelabra and crystal tumblers on the table.
Clifford said grace, then Anna brought in a heavy silver tureen of soup that she set before Susan. Next, she brought in lovely old china soup plates. She passed them, one by one, after Susan had served the portions.
When the maid left the room, Susan smiled and whispered to the girls, “I try to make things easier for Anna, but she insists on working and serving everything the old-fashioned way. I must confess, though, that I love it.”
Cliff’s eyes twinkled. “Anna’s a rare person,” he said. “She sort of lives in the past, and is very much like her mother, who worked for my mother. She imitates her in everything.”
After the soup course, Anna brought in a tray of squabs and remarked to the visitors, “I hope you all like my birds.”
The “birds” proved to be delicious, as were the sweet potatoes, corn pudding, and piping-hot biscuits served with them.
Bess said happily, “Don’t anybody remind me I’m on a diet!”
Twenty minutes later Anna removed the dishes and carried in individual servings of strawberry shortcake. She had brought in all but Cliff’s and was just returning from the pantry with it, when suddenly she shrieked. The dessert slipped from her hand and fell upside down on the floor.
“Good heavens!” she cried out, wringing her hands.
Those at the table stared at the woman in amazement. Anna pointed toward an open side window. “A man with eyes of the devil was looking in here. He was trying to cast a spell on all of us!”
Everyone jumped up and hurried out to the garden in back of the house. It was too dark to see much, but they could hear running footsteps in the distance.
“I suppose it would be hopeless to try to catch the fellow,” Cliff remarked.
Nancy said nothing. She was thinking. Perhaps she could pick up a clue to the man’s identity. Returning to the house, she hurried to her room and took a flashlight from her suitcase.
By this time the others had come indoors. Susan was trying to assure Anna, who was on the verge of hysterics, that the man had probably meant no harm.
Nancy, meanwhile, had spotted the man’s footprints under the window. They led alongside one of the garden paths. About a hundred feet from the house she saw a small metal tube and picked it up. She read:
BLACK
(oxide of iron)
“An artist dropped this!” she surmised. Instantly she thought of Mark Bradshaw, then to Alonzo Rugby. “I must tell Bess and George!”
Nancy turned to go back. At the same moment something hard hit her squarely between the shoulders. She fell forward and lost consciousness!
CHAPTER VII
Jigsaw in Glass
 
 
 
INSIDE the house Bess, George, and the Cans were talking excitedly about the man who had peered in the window. When Anna described his face, Susan was sure he was the masked man who had caused her first automobile accident.
“I’ll call the police,” Cliff said, and went to the phone.
Dessert had been forgotten, but suddenly Anna reminded the diners they had not touched their strawberry shortcake.
“I’ll fix another helping for Mr. Cliff right away,” she said. “You all go back to the dining room.”
It was not until they returned to their places at the table that the group realized Nancy had not joined them.
“That’s odd,” said George. “I saw her come into the house.”
She went to the foot of the stairs and called to the second floor. There was no answer. Worried, George went up and looked around. Coming down, she remarked, “Nancy must have gone outdoors again to do some sleuthing.”
“Oh dear,” said Susan, “I hope nothing has happened to her!”
Cliff hurried for a flashlight, and the group went outside. He cast the light around and soon spotted the man’s footprints. Figuring that Nancy had trailed him, the others followed the marks and soon found the girl’s limp body.
“Oh, Nancy!” Bess cried out, terrified. She fell to her knees beside her stricken friend.
To Bess’s relief, Nancy opened her eyes. She blinked in the glare of the flashlight and mumbled. “Where is the—the—paint tube?”
The onlookers glanced at one another. Was Nancy delirious? But a second later her mind cleared and she sat up.
“Something hit me in the back. I fell forward, hit my head, and blacked out,” she said, looking around. Pointing to a large stone, she added, “I guess someone threw that at me.”
“How awful!” Susan exclaimed. Then she told Nancy of her suspicion that the man was the one who had shoved her car off the road.
“I think he was an artist,” Nancy said. She told them about the black paint tube. “He apparently knocked me out to take it away from me without being seen. Anyhow, it’s gone.”
The Carrs helped Nancy to her feet and they all went into the house. Nancy was immediately put to bed. Not only the police but the Carrs’ physician, whom Susan had summoned, arrived in a few minutes.
Dr. Tillett, solicitous and efficient, examined Nancy and announced that she had no serious injuries. He predicted that her back would feel sore for several days, but it would not be necessary for her to stay in bed.
“Just take it easy tomorrow,” he advised.
Nancy did not see the police. Cliff had felt it was not necessary and the officers had agreed. But later, when she was alone with Bess and George, the young sleuth remarked, “The tube of paint was a good clue.”
“You suspect that Bradshaw or Rugby dropped it?” George asked.
“Yes, I do.”
Nancy said that the next morning she would make a paper model of one or two of the footprints. “Then I’ll visit Waverly as soon as I can to see if Bradshaw’s shoe fits the print.”
“Good idea,” said George, “but it won’t be easy to do.”
“I know,” said Nancy, yawning wearily, “but I’m going to try it.”
The following morning Bess and George helped her make the paper footprint. Luckily the ground was hard enough to permit this. Because of the Carrs’ friendship with Bradshaw, the girls did not tell Susan or Cliff what they had in mind.
At luncheon Susan said, “I have an idea. This afternoon we might visit some of the old estates around here. How would you like to see Thomas Jefferson’s and James Monroe’s homes?’
“Oh, we’d love it!” Bess replied for all the girls.
“And if we have time,” Susan went on, “we’ll visit some other interesting old places. As we go along, Nancy, you might inquire about the missing stained-glass window.”
Nancy was thrilled to make the trip, and the sightseers set off at once. As they drove along, Susan reminded the others that Thomas Jefferson, the third president of the United States, had served as American minister to France. While there he had become interested in Roman architecture after viewing famous ruins. When he returned to Virginia, he designed his home, Monticello, in that style.
“And he was an inventor, too,” Susan remarked.
After leaving the car in the visitors’ parking lot, the girls walked up to the stately mansion, which stood on a knoll overlooking the rolling Virginia hills. Finally, turning reluctantly away from the lovely view, they went inside the house. There, they admired the beautifully proportioned rooms and the many inventions and conveniences Jefferson had installed in his home.
BOOK: The Hidden Window Mystery
12.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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