The Secret of the Wooden Lady (5 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Keene

Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Boats and Boating, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Girl Detectives, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Ghost Stories, #Mystery Fiction, #Mystery Stories, #Mystery and Detective Storeis, #Boston Harbor (Mass.), #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #Ghosts, #Clipper Ships, #Figureheads of Ships, #Mystery and Detective Stories

BOOK: The Secret of the Wooden Lady
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The three girls reached the bottom of the steps. Staying close together, they began to work their way among the cases and barrels and coils of rope. After a while Nancy became convinced that there was no one else in the hold. George must have reached the same conclusion, for she said: “Nancy, he got away. I’m sure he’s not down here.”
“I wish we could be sure,” Bess said weakly.
The girls quickly investigated as much of the cluttered space as they could without climbing over the stacked-up articles, but they found no trace of the intruder.
Then Nancy went forward alone. “Here’s the answer,” she called, swinging her light over another ladder which led up to the lower deck. “He escaped through this hatch.”
The three girls hurried to the deck and went ashore. Nancy walked over to a warehouse guard lounging against a wall.
“Did you see a man come off the clipper a few minutes ago?” she asked.
“Sorry, girls.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen a soul. Has the captain been telling you his ghost stories?”
“Captain Easterly is a truthful man,” Nancy said loyally. “I saw the intruder myself—twice. He is about sixty, and has a grizzled beard.”
The watchman gave Nancy an odd look from under his black eyebrows. “I never saw anybody of that description around here, young lady. You a friend of Captain Easterly?”
Nancy said she was, and hurried away before he could ask any more questions. The girls found a taxi and went straight to the hotel.
Bess threw herself on the bed and breathed an immense sigh of relief. “Am I glad to get away from that horrible old ship!” she said. “No more mystery today!”
After dinner the three girls went to a movie. Nancy was surprised that her father had not returned. He was not back by morning, either. Bess had lost her fright of the day before. The clear, warm day seemed to give her courage. After breakfast the three girls returned to the harbor.
They boarded the
Bonny Scot,
expecting to find Captain Easterly. Nancy shouted a “hello” into the interior. The only reply was the slight creaking of the vessel.
The captain’s morning paper, neatly folded, lay on the deck where it had been pitched by a delivery boy.
“Maybe something has happened to him in his cabin. I’m going down and take a look,” Nancy declared.
“Please don’t,” pleaded Bess, whose apprehension had returned. “Let the police investigate this.”
“If anything’s wrong with the captain, he needs us immediately,” Nancy reasoned, hurrying down the companionway.
She found the door to his cabin standing open. The girl was shocked at the sight that met her eyes.
The captain’s bunk was torn apart, and the drawers beneath it had been forced out and splintered. The wardrobe door gaped open and clothing was strewn about the room. An old chest looked as though it had been hacked with an ax, and there were great gashes in the beautiful paneled walls.
“Oh, Nancy,” Bess gasped, “who would do such a horrid thing?”
George shook her head. “The captain will be terribly upset when he sees this. Old Grizzle Face must have come back during the night.”
“I’m calling the police right now,” declared Nancy.
Detectives Mallory and O’Shea of the Boston Police Department arrived promptly. With thoroughness and efficiency they examined the damage in the captain’s cabin, and investigated the entire ship looking for some clue to the vandal. In the meantime, the girls straightened up Captain Easterly’s quarters as best they could.
Finally the detectives returned and summed up the situation. Detective O’Shea said, “There’s been unlawful trespass and considerable property damage, that’s plain. Whether there’s been robbery, too, only the captain himself can say. Know when he’ll be back?”
Nancy told the officer she had not heard from the captain for two days. “My father and I were to meet him here yesterday morning. But Captain Easterly didn’t appear.”
“Know where the captain can be reached?”
“Who would do such a horrid thing?” Bess gasped
Nancy shook her head, frowning. “I honestly don’t think he expected to be away. He was very anxious to have my father—he’s a lawyer—trace the ship’s title. He’d surely want to keep the appointment.”
“And another thing, Captain Easterly knew someone had been coming aboard the
Bonny Scot secretly.
He wouldn’t leave it unguarded—the whole night.”
Mallory’s eyes narrowed. “Think there’s been foul play, Miss Drew?”
“I hope not,” Nancy said earnestly. She told the officers about the anonymous telephone call to her father in River Heights, warning him to stay away from the clipper ship. She also spoke of the mysterious sailor who had pushed her into the wardrobe.
“Describe him, please,” O’Shea requested.
“We call him Grizzle Face,” George put in. Nancy gave the detectives a detailed description of the sailor in dungarees. “Whoever he is,” she added, “he must be looking for something of great value. That’s why I’m worried about Captain Easterly.”
“You mean you think the skipper has been kidnapped?” Bess asked excitedly.
Detective Mallory frowned. “Let’s stick to facts, girls. Is there any other information you can give us?”
Nancy, wondering if Flip Fay might be involved in any way, asked if they had been notified that the robbery suspect might be in Boston. O’Shea said he had seen the report on Fay.
“Do you know him?” Mallory inquired.
“We all do,” Nancy said. “He used to work at a service station in River Heights.”
“Why don’t we give you girls a ride to police headquarters?” O’Shea suggested. “I think the lieutenant would like to talk to you.”
“Nancy, you can tell the lieutenant everything he wants to know,” Bess suggested. “We’ll do some sightseeing and meet you at lunchtime.”
They settled on a restaurant in the center of the city. George and Bess left for a tour of the historic spots in Boston, and Nancy accompanied the detectives to headquarters to meet Lieutenant Hennessy.
At the lieutenant’s request, Nancy recounted once more the strange events which had taken place in River Heights before she and her father had come to Boston. She also described Flip Fay as accurately as she could.
“Anything else?”
“Fay dropped a ring, which I found after the robbery and gave to the River Heights police. There was a strange F on it.”
“Strange?” Hennessy repeated.
“Yes, it looked like—” Nancy searched her mind for the right word—“like a crow’s foot.”
Hennessy’s eyes widened. “Did you say a crow’s foot?”
“Yes.”
The lieutenant went to a file of records, pulled out a folder, and handed Nancy a sheet of drawing paper.
“Something like this?” he asked.
Nancy’s heart gave a leap. On the paper was the sketch of a symbol—the identical crow’s-foot F she had seen on Flip Fay’s ring!
“That’s exactly like it, Lieutenant Hennessy!” she exclaimed.
The officer leaned back in his swivel chair, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “You say you think you saw this man here in Boston?”
Nancy nodded. “Yesterday. Down at the waterfront, near the
Bonny Scot.
He drove away in a taxi, and I tried to follow in mine, but lost him.”
“Young lady,” the lieutenant said gravely, “you’ve given us some very important information. This peculiar-looking F is the mark of a dangerous criminal. He’s known to the police as The Crow!”
CHAPTER VI
Unexpected Visitors
THE lieutenant said the police had been gathering evidence against The Crow for six months but had not caught up with him.
“We know the jobs that fellow’s pulled,” the officer said, “because he leaves a crow’s footmark behind. Vain fellow, and a clever jewel thief.”
“How does he leave it?” Nancy asked.
“Various ways. Cut into wood. Painted on a wall. I guess he was in too much of a hurry to bother with it at your friend’s house.”
The officer leaned toward Nancy, his voice deliberate. “If I were you, Miss Drew, I would be wary. Extremely wary. The Crow knows you. You interfered with his work once, and he stopped you. If you get in his way again—” Lieutenant Hennessy shook his head gravely.
But Nancy was not thinking of her own safety. She was trying to figure out how Fay might be caught.
“I thought maybe Flip was trying to get away by skipping out of the country,” she ventured. “Maybe that’s why he’s in Boston.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Thanks to you, Miss Drew, we now know the identity of The Crow. And we have his description. I’ll alert all seagoing craft immediately.”
Lieutenant Hennessy stood up and shook hands with Nancy. “You’ve helped us tremendously,” he said. “I’ll keep in touch with you.”
It had been a highly exciting morning, thought Nancy, as she came out of police headquarters. It was now eleven-fifteen and she was to meet the girls at one. Meanwhile, perhaps she could locate the present owner of the Bonny Scot. Captain Easterly had said his name was Farnsworth, but had not given his address.
Nancy consulted a telephone directory. There were a number of Farnsworths in the area. She got a supply of coins, and made several telephone calls to the surrounding towns. Finally a Mr. Elijah Farnsworth, real-estate broker, said that he was the owner of the old clipper ship. Identify ing herself as Carson Drew’s daughter, Nancy made an appointment at his office.
The elderly man received her courteously. “I don’t mind saying I’d be proud to do a service for the daughter of a man so highly regarded as your father is by Captain Easterly.”
Nancy smiled her appreciation. Then she told him of the suspicious events that had taken place on board the
Bonny Scot,
and of the damage that had been done to the captain’s quarters during his absence.
The owner of the clipper ship bounded from his chair. “Why, that’s outrageous!” he declared.
“I’m worried about Captain Easterly,” Nancy said. “He hasn’t been aboard since day before yesterday. Do you suppose he’s being held prisoner somewhere?”
“What’s that?” the man asked, astounded.
He declared he would get in touch with the police at once, but Nancy told him this already had been done. She asked Mr. Farnsworth if he had any idea where Captain Easterly might be if he had gone off voluntarily.
“The captain frequently visits his sister in Marblehead. I’ll phone her.”
The call revealed that the captain had not been to Marblehead for several weeks. Mr. Farnsworth wrinkled his brow, then suddenly snapped his fingers.
“I may have a clue to this mystery after all, Miss Drew,” he said. The man drew a slip of paper from his desk drawer and looked at it thoughtfully. “This morning I had a caller. A persistent, determined fellow. He wanted to buy the
Bonny Scot
at once, registration papers or not.”
Nancy asked in alarm, “Who was he?”
“His name is Fred Lane. I told him I wouldn’t sell to anybody until the title was clear.”
“What did he look like, Mr. Farnsworth?” Nancy thought of old Grizzle Face, using an assumed name. “Did he have a gray beard?”
“No, he was clean shaven. Rather tall.”
“Did you notice his right hand? Was the middle finger unusually short?”
Mr. Farnsworth looked surprised. “No-o-o, I did notice his fingernails. Clean and well kept.”
The caller could not have been Flip Fay. His nails, Nancy remembered, were broken.
“Mr. Lane left his address, in case I should change my mind,” Mr. Farnsworth said.
He handed Nancy the slip of paper. Written on it was a number and the name of a street near the Boston waterfront.
Nancy thanked him and put the address into her purse. Excitedly she hurried to the restaurant, where she had agreed to meet Bess and George, and had a snack with them.
Then the three girls taxied to the address Mr. Farnsworth had given Nancy. It proved to be a drab apartment house. Inside the vestibule, they looked for the name “Lane” above the mailboxes. No such name was listed.
Nancy rang the janitor’s bell several times. No one answered.
Bess shivered. “Gloomy place. I bet nobody nice lives here.”
At that moment a door opened and a shabbily dressed woman came out with a market basket. The door clicked shut after her.
Nancy greeted her courteously. “I beg your pardon, but do you know of a Mr. Lane living at this address?”
The old woman eyed the three girls suspiciously. Then, muttering under her breath, she hurried into the street.
“Did you hear what she said?” asked Nancy.
“It sounded to me like, ‘Stay out of here,”’ said Bess. “A good idea.”
Nancy pressed the janitor’s bell once more, but in vain, before deciding to leave. She was a bit discouraged. Her clues had brought no definite results yet.
When she and her friends arrived at the hotel, they were surprised to learn they had visitors. Three young men sitting in the lobby put down their magazines and stood up, grinning.

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