(#26) The Clue of the Leaning Chimney (5 page)

He found that the license plates had been issued to a Paul Scott of Masonville, and that the coupe had been reported stolen that very afternoon!

“I’ll bet those men planned to hide the car in the woods until they could paint it another color and put different license plates on it,” Nancy said to the man. “May I call the police?”

“Sure thing. Use my desk phone.”

After Nancy had talked to Police Chief McGinnis, she drove to Dick Milton’s shop and told him about the leaning chimney in Masonville. Dick was disappointed that the clue had not led to a China clay pit. Then Nancy left him and headed for Mr. Drew’s office. She had promised to pick up her father at six o’clock.

Fortunately an automobile pulled away from the curb in front of the building where Carson Drew had his law office. Nancy skillfully guided the convertible into the vacant spot. As she was about to get out, she saw a short Chinese gentleman with spectacles and a tiny goatee emerge from the building.

“Mr. Soong!” she called.

The Chinese smiled and came over to her.

“You’re just the person I want to see!” Nancy greeted him. “Can you spare a minute?”

Mr. Soong nodded. He looked very natty in a gray felt hat and a blue pin-striped suit. He carried a handsome Malacca cane. Nancy opened the door and he seated himself beside her.

“May I drive you home?” she asked.

“That would be very kind. I must hurry to keep an engagement.”

On the way, she told Mr. Soong of her day’s adventures. The Oriental gentleman’s face reflected his amazement. He could not identify John Manning, but he begged Nancy to be extremely careful in further investigations.

When Nancy pulled up at Mr. Soong’s home, she opened her bag and took out the wrinkled newspaper which held the broken fragments of a Chinese bowl. But first she showed Mr. Soong the symbols she had copied.

“I hope they’re not as mystifying to you as they are to me,” Nancy remarked.

It is no mystery what they mean,” he replied.

He translated the first set of symbols on the sheet, pointing his finger at each character as he spoke. “Made in the studio of deep peace.”

Nancy looked at him, perplexed, but he went on to the second group of characters. “Made for the hall of fragrant virtue,” he translated.

Mr. Soong smiled at Nancy’s puzzled expression. “Each set of symbols is a sort of Chinese hallmark,” he explained. ”That is to say, they’re like the little mark an American manufacturer sometimes stamps on his products.”

“It is no mystery what the symbols mean,”
Mr. Soong replied

“I know what you mean,” Nancy interposed. “I’ve seen such marks on silver and gold.”

Mr. Soong nodded in quick agreement. “Such symbols have been used for centuries by the Chinese to designate an article as authentic and of fine workmanship,” he said. “They go back centuries to the great Sung, Ming, and Ch’in dynasties.”

“How interesting!” said Nancy.

Mr. Soong peered again at the symbols. “These particular sets of markings are very old and famous,” he said. “They are from the Ming dynasty and are well known to all experts on porcelains.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Nancy. “I’m learning more than I had hoped!” Her brow knit in a frown. “But what use would Manning have for copies of the markings?” she persisted. “And why should he take such pains to conceal them?”

Mr. Soong gave a gentle shrug and smiled. “That I do not know.”

Nancy showed him the Chinese newspaper she had taken from the attic in Masonville. It was a Chinese daily published in New York, Mr. Soong told her.

“This Mr. Manning may work with Chinese in New York,” he suggested.

Next, Nancy opened the wrinkled newspaper which held the fragments of the broken bowl. The paper, Nancy saw, was the same as the other.

Mr. Soong examined the pieces with interest, but they were so small he could tell only that the bowl had been made of excellent clay. He looked at Nancy inquiringly, as if to ask for more information. But she shook her head with a sigh.

“They’re all the leads I have—this time!” she replied.

Mr. Soong stepped from the car and gravely shook Nancy’s hand.

“You have done very well, Miss Drew,” he said softly. “With the help of both members of your illustrious family, I am confident that my unworthy problems will soon be solved.”

The Chinese bowed slightly, then turned and went up the walk to his front door. Nancy looked after him, puzzled. “Now, what did he mean by that?” she asked herself.

Nancy hurried back to her father’s office building. While she was trying to squeeze into a parking space, a familiar voice said:

“Mind if I take you home?”

Nancy looked around swiftly. “Dad!” she cried.

She planted a kiss on his cheek as he got in. Carson Drew was a tall, handsome man of middle age, with alert blue eyes like those of his daughter, Like Nancy’s, too, they twinkled when his sense of humor was aroused.

The relationship between Nancy and her father was warm and companionable. No matter how busy Mr. Drew was with his own criminal cases, he always found time to discuss Nancy’s cases.

Now, driving home, the distinguished-looking attorney and his attractive daughter talked about her latest adventures. As Nancy swung the convertible into the driveway of the Drew home, she suddenly remembered Mr. Soong’s parting words. Nancy repeated them to her father and asked if he knew what they meant.

“You bet I do. Mr. Soong paid me a visit today. He wants you and me to undertake a search.”

“A search?”

“That’s right. A Chinese puzzle that goes back five years!”

He got out of the car and Nancy quickly followed him.

“Dad, stop keeping me in suspensel” she begged. “What’s it all about?”

“I’ll tell when we get inside,” he promised, mounting the steps to the porch. “It’s the story of the missing Engs!”

CHAPTER VI

The Vanishing Vase

“WHAT are the missing Engs?” Nancy inquired when she and her father were seated in his study. “Some valuable jewels?”

Mr. Drew laughed. “You’re not even warm! The Engs are Chinese friends of Mr. Soong’s; Eng Moy and his daughter Eng Lei. As you know,” he added, “Chinese last names come first!”

Carson Drew paused for a moment.

“Go on, Dad,” Nancy begged impatiently.

“Five years ago Eng Moy wrote to Mr. Soong from China. He said he and his daughter were leaving on a trip to the United States and hoped to visit him. According to Mr. Soong, Eng Moy was a well-known maker of porcelains in China. The purpose of his trip was to study American pottery methods.”

“Did Eng Lei make pottery, too?” Nancy asked.

Her father shook his head. “Not at the time the Engs left China, at any rate. She was only twelve years old then. That means she’s about seventeen now.”

“When did they disappear?” Nancy asked, interested at once in hearing about a girl so close to her own age.

“That’s coming. Eng Moy continued to write to Mr. Soong,” Mr. Drew explained. “Eng described tours they had taken through pottery plants in several cities in the United States. Each succeeding letter was postmarked a little closer to River Heights. Finally Mr. Soong received a letter saying they would visit him the following week.”

The lawyer paused.

“And they didn’t come?” Nancy asked.

“No. That was four and a half years ago. Mr. Soong hasn’t heard from the Engs since!”

“Maybe something happened so they couldn’t write.”

“That’s what Mr. Soong would like to find out,” Mr. Drew replied. “He came to my office today because he had received a letter from a relative in China. Mr. Soong supposed the Engs had returned to the Orient without paying him the promised visit. He had been a bit perplexed when his letters to China were never acknowledged.”

“Sounds very strange,” said Nancy.

“He learned something from the letter he received today,” said Mr. Drew. “The relative wrote that the Engs never had returned to China and the United States immigration authorities could not account for it.”

“Then the Engs are probably still in this country,” Nancy reasoned.

“Seems that way,” her father agreed. “Mr. Soong fears his friends have met with—well, let’s call it foul play.”

“What do
you
suspect happened to them?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t suspect anything yet,” Mr. Drew replied. “But there are several reasons why some aliens want United States authorities to lose track of them. Espionage is one. Receiving and selling smuggled goods is another.”

“Not a friend of Mr. Soong’s!” said Nancy, shocked.

Her father smiled dryly, “You’re probably right, but that doesn’t solve the mystery.”

Nancy looked at her father searchingly, then asked how she might help on the case.

Mr. Drew smiled affectionately. “As soon as I get a clue, I’ll put you to work on it.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Nancy looked at her watch and gave a start. “My goodness, I must run or I’ll be late for Helen’s birthday dinner!”

She dashed upstairs to dress. A few minutes later Nancy hurried down, blew a kiss to her father, and waved good-by to Mrs. Gruen.

“Wait a moment,” the housekeeper said. “You worry me, Nancy,” she said. “It will be late when you leave the Townsend house and I don’t like your coming home alone.”

“I’ll soon settle this,” Mr. Drew declared. “Hannah, I’ll drive my daughter and her friends to Helen’s and go back for them.”

Twenty minutes later he dropped Bess, George, and Nancy across town. Mr. Townsend teased the girls with a “Glad you made it. I’d begun to think I’d have to eat four pieces of birthday cake!”

Helen smiled and said, “If I know Nancy, she probably was tracking down some villain.”

“That’s right.” Nancy laughed. “A new way to say ‘Happy Birthday.’ ”

Helen took the girls’ coats and handbags upstairs to her room.

In a few minutes Mrs. Townsend called everyone into the dining room. As Nancy was about to follow, she noticed an exquisite vase on the desk near a window. She lifted the vase carefully and examined the porcelain.

It was in a lovely shade of brown, showing a peach tree at the edge of a sparkling blue lake. An ancient Chinese, attired in a richly brocaded robe, sat under the tree beside a deer.

Nancy studied the bottom of the base. Painted with small, black brush strokes were several Chinese symbols. They seemed to be the same as one set of characters she had copied from the sheets in Manning’s room!

Nancy ran upstairs and got her clutch bag. Then, seating herself at the living-room desk, she took a pen from its ornate holder and quickly copied the symbols. She dried the ink on a small blotter which lay on the desk and slipped the paper into her bag.

She was about to go into the dining room when she spotted two strange marks cunningly worked into the leaves of the peach tree. Nancy stared at the small, barely visible markings. The more she looked the more puzzled she became. Before she could copy the little symbols, Mrs. Townsend hurried into the room.

“Nancy, come on!” she coaxed.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy apologized. “This vase—”

“Like it?” Helen’s mother asked.

“Love it!” Nancy replied. “It’s one of the finest I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a Ming vase. My husband gave it to me for an anniversary present,” Mrs. Townsend said, leading the way into the dining room.

Nancy followed. As she ate, the young detective kept thinking about what she had just discovered. After the birthday cake had been served, Helen began to unwrap her gifts. “Ohs” and “Ahs” greeted each gaily wrapped package. Besides several pieces of beautiful lingerie, she received an attractive figurine Bess had made in Dick Milton’s pottery class.

“Oh, it’s lovely!” she exclaimed. “Thanks heaps, Bess.”

There was a roar of laughter as a baseball glove from George was opened. But this was something Helen had said she wanted, months before, and no one would give it to her!

Nancy’s gift was the surprise of the evening. She had prearranged with Mrs. Townsend that it would be brought in last. Cuddled on a cushion in a little pink basket was a fluffy white kitten.

“Nancy, you darling!” Helen burst out. “You remembered I’ve been meaning to get one.”

The girls gathered around to admire the kitten. Then, as the hands of the clock moved toward ten-thirty, the guests said they must leave.

Nancy, Bess, and George went upstairs for their coats. When Nancy came down carrying her coat, she went to the desk to get her bag. She stopped short in surprise. The bag was gone!

When Mrs. Townsend and the others came downstairs Nancy asked them if they had seen her bag. But none of them knew anything about it.

“What could have become of it?” Mr. Townsend asked, joining the search.

Nancy noticed that the window near the desk was partly open. Could someone have reached in and taken the bag?

“May I have a flashlight?” she asked.

Obtaining one from Mr. Townsend, she dashed out the front door and went around to the side of the house, followed by the others. Under the partly opened window was a flower bed. In it were footprints!

At that moment she heard Mrs. Townsend call, “Isn’t this yours, Nancy?”