(#25) The Ghost of Blackwood Hall (13 page)

“A call on the State Police. The next job needs strong men!”

At headquarters Nancy gave the police all the details of the case. The mob was obviously ready to strike and make a quick getaway. It was time that the law stepped in. The young detective made such an impressive presentation of the facts that she was promised that a cordon of troops would be assigned to the lake area that night.

Nancy and her friends obtained a large room at the Lake Jasper Hotel, where the police promised to notify them at once should anything develop. Nancy awoke several times during the night, wondering what might be taking place at the Putney Lodge. She had just opened her eyes again as it was beginning to grow light, when the telephone on the stand by the bed jingled.

Nancy snatched it up. She listened attentively a moment, then turned excitedly to call her friends who were still asleep.

“Girls!” she cried. “The troopers have a prisoner!”

CHAPTER XVII

Breaking a Spell

AT headquarters Nancy, Bess, and George learned that a man had been caught entering the Putney Lodge shortly after midnight. He had refused to give his name or answer any questions.

“Will you take a look at the fellow through our peephole and see if you recognize him?” the officer in charge asked. “He’s in the center cell.”

The three girls were led to a dark inner room. One by one they peered through a sliding wooden window which looked out upon the cell block. None of them had ever seen the prisoner in question, who was pacing the floor nervously.

“Maybe he’ll break down this morning,” the officer said. “Suppose you come back later.”

As they left police headquarters, Nancy proposed that the girls go to the Putney cabin. When they arrived, the lodge showed signs of considerable activity. Mrs. Putney was in the living room, hurriedly packing. She made no effort to hide her displeasure at seeing the three girls.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked.

“It’s a long story,” Nancy replied. “But please answer one question: Do you still have your stocks and bonds safe in your handbag?”

This question evidently came as a complete surprise. The woman stammered for a moment and then sat down.

“Nancy Drew, I can’t face you! You’re uncanny. Not a soul in this world knew—”

“Mrs. Putney, please don’t be upset,” Nancy pleaded. “When you refused to take me into your confidence any longer, and left River Heights, I simply had to use my common sense as any detective would do. I’m trying to protect you against your own generous nature. You have never believed me when I told you that you are the victim of an unscrupulous gang. When I learned that you had opened your safe-deposit box I had to inform the police. It was they who caught your burglar.”

The widow finally raised her head. “Yes, my securities are safe. So you—you know about the thief?”

“Very little. Tell me about him.”

“It was so upsetting,” the widow replied nervously. “My maid and I were sleeping soundly in our bedrooms.”

So Lola was working as a maid!

“Suddenly we heard a shot fired,” Mrs. Putney went on, “and there was a dreadful commotion. Several State Police officers were pounding on the door. I slipped on a dressing gown and went to see what they wanted. They asked me if I could identify the man they had caught trying to get in through a window.”

“Was he anyone you knew?” asked Nancy.

“No, I never saw him before in my life. But I’m frightened. That’s why I’m going home.”

“And your maid?”

“I haven’t told Violet yet.”

Nancy quietly revealed that “Violet” was Lola White, that they had met her in the village, and were afraid she was under the influence of the same gang to which the night marauder belonged.

Mrs. Putney became more and more trusting as the conversation progressed. She was ready to admit that she had been foolish to act without advice.

“I suppose you received a spirit message to take your valuables from the bank and hold them until the spirit gave you further instructions,” Nancy stated.

“Yes. My late husband contacted me.”

“Will you please put them back in your safe-deposit box and not touch them again until—” Nancy hardly knew how to go on to compete with the spirit’s advice—“until you have consulted Mr. Lathrop,” she ended her request.

“I’ll think about it,” Mrs. Putney conceded. “Thank you, anyway, for all your help.”

Bess spoke up, asking how Lola White happened to be working for her. Mrs. Putney said that the spirit had told her the girl would come to her at the lodge seeking employment and that she was to engage her.

“She had no luggage and told me her name was Violet Gleason,” Mrs. Putney added. “She seems very nice, though odd. But if she’s acting under some sort of mesmeric spell as you believe, then I don’t want her around!”

“Maybe we can bring Lola out of it,” Nancy suggested. “Then she’ll want to go home, I’m sure. Let’s go and talk to her.”

Lola was sitting on the dock. As they approached her, she continued to stare at the girls without showing any sign of recognition. She was not unfriendly, however, and Nancy endeavored to bring her out of her trance by mentioning her mother, the school she had attended, a motion-picture house in River Heights, and several other familiar names. Lola merely shook her head in a bewildered way.

“Is her condition permanent?” Bess asked anxiously as the group returned to the lodge.

“I’d like to try one more thing before we take her home,” Nancy said. “I don’t want Mrs. White to see her this way. Mrs. Putney,” she added, turning to the widow, “you will have to help us perform an experiment.”

Mrs. Putney agreed to do anything to assist. However, when Nancy explained that her idea was to conduct a fake séance which would bring Lola to her senses, Mrs. Putney hesitated. Finally she said:

“I suppose it’s only fair to give it a trial. And I must admit you’ve been right many times, Nancy. Yes, I’ll help you.”

While Bess and George stayed with Lola, Nancy and Mrs. Putney went to the village. The widow returned her stocks, bonds, and cash to the bank. Then they drove to Winchester, where Nancy purchased materials needed for the experiment.

At midnight the three girls posted themselves on the side porch of the lodge. Through a window they could see Mrs. Putney and Lola seated in the candle-lighted living room beside a dying log fire, as had been planned.

“Now, if only Mrs. Putney doesn’t lose her nerve and give us away!” Nancy said.

“I hope we don’t fumble our act!” Bess said, nervously adjusting her long veil and gown.

“We won’t,” replied Nancy. “Shall we start?”

Without showing herself, she flung wide the double doors leading from the porch into the living room. George, out of sight, waved a huge fan. The resulting gust of wind extinguished the candles and caused the dying embers on the hearth to burst into flames.

George, hidden by darkness, reached in and uncorked a bottle of phosphorus and oil. At once a faint green light glowed spookily in the room.

Working from behind the door, Nancy, by means of a magician’s reaching rod, made a large piece of cardboard appear to float in mid-air.

At the same time Bess, the long veil over her face, glided in and seated herself beside the trembling Lola. The girl half arose, then sank back, her eyes riveted on the moving cardboard.

With a quick toss of her wrist, Nancy flung it from the reaching rod, directly at Lola’s feet. Plainly visible in glowing phosphorous characters was the Three Branch insigne.

Lola gasped, and even Mrs. Putney, who knew the séance was a fake, recoiled as if from a physical blow. A voice intoned:

“Lola! Lola! Give no more of your money to the orphans. They are not real, and their spirits do not need your help. Lola, do you hear me?”

There followed a moment of complete silence. Then the girl sprang to her feet, muttering:

“Yes, yes, I hear! I will obey!”

She reached out as if to grasp the arm of the figure who was veiled, and then toppled over in a faint. As Bess rejoined the other girls on the porch, Nancy closed the doors. Mrs. Putney flooded the room with light. The séance was at an end.

“Shouldn’t we show ourselves now and help bring Lola out of her faint?” Bess asked anxiously as they watched through the window.

“That might give everything away,” Nancy said. “I think Mrs. Putney is capable of handling things now. Let’s look on from here.”

To the relief of the trio, Lola soon revived.

“How are you feeling?” they heard the widow inquire solicitously.

“Sort of funny,” the girl answered, rubbing her head. “Where am I?”

“At my lodge, Lola. You are employed here as a maid.”

“How can that be?” the bewildered girl asked. “I work in a factory. I must get back to my job! My mother needs my help. I’ve been giving away too much money.”

When Nancy, Bess, and George heard this, they knew the séance had been a success. Not only had Lola regained her normal thought processes, but the idea of refusing to give funds to unworthy causes also had taken firm root.

“Our work here is done,” Nancy whispered to her friends. “Let’s return to the hotel.”

“I’m so relieved for Lola’s sake,” said George.

The next morning the girls decided to leave Lake Jasper without seeing Mrs. Putney again.

“I’m sure the poor woman is aware now that she was being cheated by those people,” Nancy said. “After she’s had time to think matters over, she’ll probably call me.”

Before leaving Lake Jasper, Nancy went to the police station to see if the prisoner had revealed his identity and admitted his attempted crime.

“No, but we’ve sent his fingerprints to Washington to find out if he has a record,” the officer said.

Nancy asked to look at him again through the peephole. This time, she felt that there was something vaguely familiar about him.

“We know by his accent he’s from the South,” the police officer told Nancy, “but he won’t admit it, nor answer questions about his identity.”

The officer turned on a tape recorder and Nancy listened to the prisoner’s conversation with a guard. Only when the girls were en route home did it dawn upon Nancy that the man’s voice resembled that of the New Orleans photographer!

“Girls!” she exclaimed. “Perhaps he and the prisoner are related! What was that photographer’s name? Oh, yes, Towner.”

Stopping at a gas station, she telephoned the police station and suggested they try out the name Towner on the prisoner, and mention New Orleans as a possible residence. In a few minutes word came back that the man had denied any connection with either one.

Nancy shrugged. “That photographer naturally would be connected with this racket under an assumed name,” she remarked.

During the drive to River Heights, the girls discussed the mystery from every angle. George and Bess were sure that the whole case soon would be solved and they praised Nancy for what she had done to prevent the gang from fleecing Mrs. Putney.

Nancy, however, pointed out that the original case involving the stolen Putney jewels still remained unsolved.

“The most valuable pieces—the pearl necklace and her husband’s ring—haven’t been recovered,” she said. “Howard Brex, the man I suspected, hasn’t been located for questioning yet. Until that has been accomplished, my work isn’t done.”

Upon her arrival home, pleasant news awaited Nancy. During her absence at Lake Jasper, Mr. Drew had returned.

“I’ve had a long trip,” he remarked, a twinkle in his eye. “Traveling to New Orleans took me several hundred miles out of my way!”

Nancy’s eyes opened wide. “New Orleans!” she exclaimed. “Dad, what did you learn?”

Instead of answering, the lawyer handed his daughter a small envelope.

CHAPTER XVIII

Startling Developments

NANCY opened the envelope with great excitement. Inside was a photograph of a thin-lipped, rather arrogant-looking man in his early thirties.

“Who is he?”

“Howard Brex!”

Mr. Drew explained that he had obtained the picture from the New Orleans police. Officers there still were trying to discover where he had gone since his release from prison. Nancy studied the picture and exclaimed suddenly:

“He bears a slight resemblance to the New Orleans photographer! And here’s something else, Dad.”

Excitedly she related the events that had taken place during his absence. In conclusion, she told about the capture of the Lake Jasper house-breaker, whose voice was very much like that of the photographer.

“Perhaps they’re all related!” she speculated.

Mr. Drew offered to wire the New Orleans police for more information.

Then a telephone call confirmed the fact that Mrs. Putney had returned from Lake Jasper. Nancy hurried over to show her the photograph of Howard Brex. The widow received her graciously, but when shown the picture she insisted that she had never seen the man. Nancy had great difficulty in concealing her disappointment.

Upon returning home Nancy telephoned the Lake Jasper police for news of their prisoner. He still refused to talk, but the report from Washington on his fingerprints revealed that he had no criminal record.

No reply came to Mr. Drew’s telegram, either that day or the next. But on the second day Nancy received a disturbing letter. It was signed “Mrs. Egan.”

Written on cheap paper, the message was brief and threatening. It warned Nancy to give up her sleuthing activities or “suffer the consequences.”

Nancy was worried. “This comes of talking to that strange woman in the park!” she thought. “But she certainly didn’t look like the kind of person who would serve as a lookout for the gang.”

In the hope of seeing the stranger again, Nancy watched the park most of that day. In the late afternoon she saw the woman walking rapidly toward her, carrying several packages.

Nancy stepped behind a bush until the middle-aged woman had passed. Then she followed her to a rooming house.

The woman entered an old-fashioned brick structure. Nancy waited on the stoop for a moment and then rapped on the door, which was opened by the woman she had followed. She greeted Nancy with such evident pleasure that the latter’s suspicions vanished.