The Eskimo's Secret (3 page)

Nancy took a step back, ready to retreat to the guard station and perhaps ask to use the phone there to call Mr. Steele’s office. However, before she could turn away, the argument grew more interesting.

“I came to ask about Alana,” the first voice said.

“I’d like to know about my niece, too.” The second voice was obviously that of Clement Steele. “Suppose you tell me where she is, Harper.”

“Mr. Steele, I don’t know.” Tod Harper sounded miserable. “I haven’t seen her since the night before last. I don’t know why you think I have.”

“I blame you for all of this, Harper,” Mr. Steele growled.

“For the theft?” Harper was obviously surprised. “I wasn’t even in the building, you know that.”

“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t Alana’s doing, no matter what the authorities think.” Mr. Steele sounded more worried than angry now.

“They only want to talk to her,” Harper protested. “If she’d tell them where she was yesterday, they’d know she didn’t have anything to do with the theft of the Tundra.”

Nancy gasped at this proof that the worst of her fears had been realized. She agreed with the men that Alana could have had no part in the art theft, but her disappearance at the same time did seem very suspicious.

“And who told them she was gone?” Clement Steele demanded. “And spent half the night telling anyone who would listen that Alana was obsessed with the carving?”

“I had to answer their questions,” Tod Harper stated.

“You had to give them someone else to suspect,” Steele snapped.

“Just as you did when you sent them around to question me,” Harper accused. “I don’t have the combination to the gallery safe, but you do.” “I know I didn’t give you the combination,” Steele corrected. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have it. Alana could have told you.”

"You’d rather have them suspect Alana than you, wouldn’t you?” Tod Harper shouted. “Why Is that? Are you afraid they’ll find out that you stole the Tundra yourself?”

“I don’t have to listen to your half-baked theories,” Clement Steele thundered. “You’re lired! I only kept you on because Alana liked you.”

The door of the office exploded open with a crash and Nancy was nearly run over by the stocky blond young man who came through it. He passed her without a glance and Nancy turned to face the angry stare of the man in the doorway.

“Who are you and what do you think you’re doing eavesdropping outside my office?” Clement Steele demanded, his eyes blazing with fury.

“I’m Nancy Drew, Mr. Steele,” Nancy said, holding herself very still and straight so he wouldn’t know she was a bit frightened of him.

“Nancy, my dear girl, I should have recognized you from Alana’s photos. I’m sorry. Do come in, please.”

Nancy stepped into his office with relief, glad of an opportunity to talk to Alana’s uncle in private. His overly friendly greeting rather surprised her, as did the frown he turned her way after she was seated in front of his desk.

“What brings you to Victoria, Nancy?” he asked.

“Alana’s call,” Nancy answered.

“Has she called you again?” Mr. Steele sat forward, his body tense.

“Not since I talked to you,” Nancy admitted, “but as I told you, she begged me to come here and help her. When I couldn’t reach her again, I decided I had to come in person and try to find out what was wrong.”

Mr. Steele sighed and leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking much older and wearier than he had a moment before. “I hope you don’t regret your decision,” he said.

“Regret it?” Nancy frowned. “Why should I? I don’t understand.”

“Alana isn’t here,” he explained. “I have no idea where she is.”

“When I went by your home the housekeeper told me that Alana left on a trip,” Nancy told him, watching him closely.

Mr. Steele winced. “She did leave yesterday,” he stated emphatically.

“After she talked to me—and without taking any luggage,” Nancy added.

“I asked Mrs. Dentley to lie,” Mr. Steele ad-mitted. “The authorities have been asking a lot of questions about Alana and so have the reporters. They seem determined to make some sort of connection between Alana’s departure and the theft. I’m hoping that the statement that she left before the theft will force them to look elsewhere for a suspect.”

“You’re just trying to protect her?” Nancy couldn’t help being skeptical after having overheard the argument between him and Tod Harper.

“Until I can find out where she is and why she left, I’ve got to do something.” Although his concern seemed genuine, Nancy had a strong feeling he was not being completely truthful.

“What about the theft?” Nancy asked. “Have the authorities told you anything about it?”

Mr. Steele was on his feet at once. “They ask a lot of questions, but they don’t answer many,” he said grimly.

“Was the Tundra the only thing taken?” Nancy wasn’t sure what approach to take in her questioning.

“A masterpiece beyond compare. The most exciting exhibit I’ve ever been offered and now it’s gone. The theft will ruin me, whether or not I’m cleared of suspicion. Who’d want to trust anything to my gallery after this?”

“When the thieves are caught—” Nancy began, but Mr. Steele was already on his way to the door.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you any further, Nancy,” he said, “but I really have no idea where she is. I will call you if I hear anything.” Reluctantly, Nancy got to her feet and left the office. She looked around hoping for inspiration, but no new path of investigation opened in the quiet hall, so she headed back the way she’d come. Since she was curious about the rest of the pieces that were to be displayed with the Tundra, she turned down a side hall. As she hoped, it led directly to the showroom.

Natural light from the gallery windows spilled over the room. The central enclosed pedestal was empty, but the other displays were intriguing. Nancy crossed to the first one.

“They really aren’t much without the Tundra,” a slightly familiar voice said.

Nancy whirled to see Tod Harper standing near a collection of polar bear carvings. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I could ask you the same question,” he replied with a slight grin, “but the truth is, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“How did you know I’d come in here?” “Alana told me how interested you are in mysteries and I figured you couldn’t resist this one.” The grin became engaging, warming his blue eyes and making him a very attractive young man. “You did come, Nancy Drew.” Nancy giggled, a little embarrassed by her own suspicions. “So I did,” she admitted. Why did you want to see me?”

“To ask you to help Alana. That is why you’re here, isn’t it? You won’t let Clement Steele send you away?” The grin was gone. “He’s hiding something and it could hurt Alana.”

“How did you know who I am?” Nancy asked, suddenly aware she’d learned his identity by eavesdropping and wondering if he might have done the same thing.

“Alana has a couple of pictures of you,” Tod answered, “and she talks about you quite a bit. Besides, I’ve read about you in the papers when you’ve solved mysteries for people.” He sighed. “I just want you to solve this one.”

“What do you know about Alana’s disappear-ance?” Nancy asked, accepting his explanation.

“Nothing. We had a date the night before last, but it was just ordinary—dinner and a movie. I’ve gone over the whole evening in my mind a hundred times.” He sighed. “I called her yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t reach her. I didn’t realize she was missing until the authorities started asking me a lot of questions about her.” “Then you have no idea where she could have gone?” Nancy asked, frustrated at not getting any useful information.

“None whatsoever. Do you?”

After a moment of consideration, Nancy told Tod about the phone calls, including Alana’s plea for help. He looked as disturbed as she felt. "She was worried about something before the theft,” Nancy finished, “and she was frantic afterward.”

“Then you think the two things are connected?” Tod didn’t sound happy about the idea.

“I think they must be,” Nancy said. “But I’m sure Alana didn’t steal the sculpture.”

“So am I.”

“What can you tell me about the sculpture?” Nancy asked. “And about the owner?”

“Almost nothing,” Tod replied. “I mean, I can tell you about the carvings themselves, that sort of thing, but that’s not what you want, is it?” Nancy shook her head. “What I . . . ” She stopped speaking when Tod stiffened. She turned to follow his gaze and saw that Mr. Steele was standing in the doorway behind her.

“Ah, so here you are, Nancy,” he said with a joviality that didn’t reach his eyes. “I asked the guard if you’d left the building and he told me you hadn’t.”

“Was there something you wanted?” Nancy asked, aware that he was looking past her at Tod Harper and his glare was furious.

“Please come back to my office,” he invited, his gesture drawing her away from Tod and into

the hall behind him. “Out of the building, Harper,” Mr. Steele growled. “You’re not welcome here.”

“Leaving will be a pleasure,” Tod snapped, going the other way.

Mr. Steele said nothing until they’d returned to his office. “I’m sorry to interrupt your con-versation, but I’ve been thinking I would very much like to have you stay in Victoria and try to find Alana.”

“You want me to stay?” Nancy couldn’t hide her surprise.

“I’m terribly worried, Nancy. Alana was trying to reach you, so I’m sure she wants your help. If you would be my guest at the house, perhaps she’ll try to reach you there. I just hope it’s soon.”

“You think her disappearance is connected with the theft, don’t you?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t think she stole it, if that’s what you mean.” His face was grim.

“Neither do I,” Nancy assured him, “but she might have seen something or heard something that told her who did take it. If she knew too much ...” She didn’t want to finish the thought.

“Then you have to find her quickly.”

“I’ll need some help,” Nancy said, pleased at his change of attitude.

“Anything.”

“Tell me about the Tundra,” Nancy requested. “Who owns it? Who would want to steal it?”

“The Tundra was the masterpiece of a private collection originally belonging to Franklin Cole. He died about six months ago and his wife offered me the collection. While alive, Mr. Cole never displayed the sculpture, but after his death his wife was harassed by a number of very insistent buyers and she couldn’t stand the pressure. She felt that hiding such a monumental work of art in a private collection was wrong and she intimated that she would allow me to handle the sale of it to someone or some institution that would display it permanently as the valuable part of the Eskimo heritage she feels it to be.” Mr. Steele spoke with calm authority on the subject, but his expression was sad. “It seems she trusted the wrong person,” he finished.

“Do you think the theft was done by one of those buyers?” Nancy asked.

He nodded.

“But I thought the authorities said it was an inside job,” Nancy protested.

“There was inside help,” he confirmed. “Will you stay on, Nancy? Try to find Alana?”

“Of course.” Nancy made her decision.

“I’ll call Mrs. Dentley and tell her to expect you.” Mr. Steele looked relieved.

“Would it be all right if I talked to some of the people here at the gallery?” Nancy asked.

“Of course. If anyone is reluctant to answer your questions, just let me know.”

“I’ll contact you as soon as I learn anything,” Nancy assured him, hoping it wouldn’t be long.

The next hour was discouraging. Questioning the employees of the gallery proved frustrating, for everyone seemed to agree that Alana was obsessed with the Tundra, but no one could tell her why. Nor did any of them offer suggestions about other people she might talk to. Nancy finally went to the receptionist’s desk, hoping the woman would be able to give her names and addresses of other people who’d worked at the gallery, people that might know Alana better than the ones she’d talked to.

“Miss Nancy Drew?” A young boy called out as he came in the front door.

“I’m Nancy Drew,” Nancy confirmed.

He stepped forward and handed her an envelope. Nancy looked at it, seeking a return address, her thoughts on her father. There was none. She began tearing it open.

The note was typed on a single sheet of paper.

Nancy Drew, Give up your search and leave Victoria. Alana will not be found and you are in danger. ‘A Friend’

Nancy gasped, then looked around for the boy who’d brought the envelope; but he had vanished.

“What is it?” the receptionist asked.

Nancy handed her the note, then ran to the front door to peer out into the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy. He was nowhere to be seen. She returned to the receptionist’s desk with a frown.

“Would you like me to call the authorities?” the woman asked as Nancy reclaimed the note.

Nancy considered, then shook her head. “I’m sure it’s just a prank,” she said.

The receptionist’s expression told her the woman didn’t believe it.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone,” Nancy continued. “Mr. Steele has asked me to stay at his home to wait for Alana, so I’ll be perfectly safe. However, I would like Tod Harper’s home address and phone number, as well as the names of the two employees that left the gallery earlier this year.”

The receptionist dug out the information while Nancy studied the note and the envelope more thoroughly. It was obvious the messenger had not been working for a regular delivery firm. Since Tod Harper was the only person besides Mr. Steele to know why she was in Victoria, it seemed likely he had sent the warning. What bothered her was why?

Nancy took the information and left the gallery, seeking a public telephone for her calls. The first was to Seattle, for she was anxious to know how her father had fared with Miss Haggler and to tell him what had been happening here.