Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Seventy-Six 1 страница

Carolyn Keene

Dare to read: Нэнси Дрю и Братья Харди

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The Eskimo's Secret

Copyright © by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Nancy suspects that sabotage in a chain of West Coast shops selling imported art objects is connected with the theft of a valuable Eskimo sculpture.

1. Imported Problems

“This assignment is a tough one, Dad,” eighteen-year-old Nancy Drew told her father over the telephone. “I just can’t seem to find anything listed for C-B, Inc.”

“I’m not surprised,” Carson Drew replied. “I’ve been trying to get information on Investors, Inc., and I haven’t done much better. Obviously, C-B, Inc. and Investors, Inc. are phony corporations. Probably a front for something or someone, so we’ll have to do a lot of digging to uncover the real identities.”

“Do you want me to give up on C-B, Inc.?” Nancy asked.

“You might as well. Come on back to the hotel and we’ll have an early lunch. Maybe we can think of a new approach.”

The girl detective, who was only three when her mother died, had a close relationship with her father. A prominent attorney in their home town of River Heights, Mr. Drew frequently called upon Nancy to help him investigate particularly difficult cases all over the country.

“I’ll meet you in the dining room,” Nancy said as she hung up the phone.

As she headed for the rental car she had picked up at the Seattle, Washington airport, she thought of Helen Haggler’s first urgent call to Carson Drew. She was the head of Haggler International Imports, a chain of very elegant shops that sold imported art objects in all the major West Coast cities.

Miss Haggler told Mr. Drew that several unexplained accidents had occurred at the stores recently, and she believed them to be the work of some unknown enemy. She also mentioned receiving several calls from two companies interested in buying her business, but she had dismissed them. One was C-B, Inc. and the other was Investors, Inc. Since she wasn’t considering selling her business to them, she had not paid attention to the offers. Now, Miss Haggler wondered if these companies might be responsible for her recent troubles.

When Nancy finally joined her father at a corner table overlooking the bustling city, she asked, a bit teasingly, “Have you decided how we should begin our new approach?”

“At the beginning,” Carson Drew responded with a grin. “I think we’ll have to trace the owners of every corporation listed in Investors, Inc. I’m sure a lot of them are fakes, but one of them will be the actual people behind Investors, Inc., and that’s the one we have to find.” “Then you do think Miss Haggler was right about all the accidents and bad luck she’s had being part of a conspiracy?” Nancy asked.

Her father nodded. “Helen isn’t the type to get upset over accidents. Our problem is finding out who is to blame for her trouble and getting the proof necessary to turn it over to the police.”

“These companies look like they’re candidates since they’ve offered to buy her company," Nancy mused after they’d ordered lunch. "And the fact that we haven’t been able to find any real people behind these corporations seems suspicious.”

“I’ve never seen such a paper trail,” Carson Drew agreed. “The closest I’ve come to finding real directors are the names R.K. Smith and D.W. Jones, and that discovery was three corporations removed from Investors, Inc. I haven’t been able to locate either of them, so I’m not sure they actually exist.”

“Maybe we should be investigating the things that happened to Miss Haggler,” Nancy suggested. “Solving a simple case of arson or theft, or even art fraud, would be a snap compared with this.”

“I don’t think the police would appreciate your attitude,” Mr. Drew observed with a chuckle. “They’re working on the cases in the cities where there was trouble, but they haven’t had much luck so far.”

“So what are we going to do?” Nancy asked.

“I think you should call your friend in Victoria,” Carson Drew answered. “Perhaps she’d like to come to Seattle and spend a few days with you.”

“Are you taking me off this investigation, Dad?” Nancy asked, suddenly troubled.

“Heavens, no, just giving you a brief vacation while I do some very dull digging into the background of Investors, Inc. Maybe I’ll pick up something on C-B, Inc. along the way.” He frowned. “I thought you’d planned to see Alana.”

Nancy picked up her fork and started on her omelette before speaking. Alana Steele was an old friend who had grown up in River Heights.

She’d been orphaned as the result of a tragic car accident several years earlier and had gone to live in Victoria, British Columbia, with her uncle, Clement Steele. She and Nancy had kept in touch with letters and phone calls, but they had not seen each other since Alana left River Heights.

“Of course I want to see her,” Nancy said. “I just don’t want to neglect you and Miss Haggler.”

“There isn’t much you can do until I get the real names of the people behind Investors, Inc.,” her father assured her.

“Then I’ll call her after we finish lunch,” Nancy promised. “Now, did you get the report from the San Francisco people?”

“Helen has been cleared of the recent fraud charges made by one of her clients,” Mr. Drew reported. “The papers on that jade carving were forged by an unscrupulous dealer. Helen had checked it out properly before offering it to her client, and everything appeared quite correct. The dealer was using her good reputation. The mystery is why the forgery was revealed.”

“Another attempt to hurt the reputation of Haggler Imports?” Nancy suggested.

“I can think of no other reason,” Carson Drew agreed. “That charge was the final straw. It made me sure that Helen was right about all this trouble being more than just a run of bad luck.”

“But why would someone be so eager to buy out her company?” Nancy asked. “I know she’s very successful and has possibilities to expand her business beyond the West Coast, but wouldn’t all that change if her reputation was ruined?”

Her father nodded.

“Then...” Nancy paused. “Could they be doing that to lower the price of the company?” she asked.

Her father considered, then smiled. “You just might be on to something,” he admitted.

“And Investors, Inc. must be involved.” Nancy frowned.

“That’s something you can be thinking about while you’re entertaining Alana,” her father said.

“That sounds like my cue to go upstairs and make my call,” Nancy said.

“Give my regards to her uncle,” Carson said.

“Do you know Clement Steele?” Nancy was surprised.

“We’ve met several times. He’s an art dealer, you know, and has quite a nice gallery in Victoria. I believe he specializes in native art—Indian and Eskimo.”

“That sounds fascinating,” Nancy murmured.

“I suppose that’s why Alana has been so interested in studying art these past few years.” “You’ll have to ask her about it.”

“Talk to you later,” Nancy said, getting to her feet.

It took several minutes to place the call to Victoria, but Alana was soon on the phone, her voice full of excitement. “Oh, Nancy, I’m so glad you called,” she said. “When I got your letter saying you were going to be in the area, I was happy we'd probably have a chance to talk.”

"Well, I’m going to be in Seattle for some time, so I was hoping that you’d be able to come and visit,” Nancy invited, giving Alana the details of where she was staying. “I’ve been helping my father with a case, but he’s told me I should take time off. We could do some shopping and sightseeing, if you’re free.”

There was a long interval of silence. Nancy could hear Alana’s breathing on the other end, but nothing else. She waited and waited, a puzzled frown touching her forehead. Finally, she could stand it no longer. “Is this a bad time, Alana?” she asked.

“No, of course not.” Alana answered too quickly. “It’s just that... Nancy, I really can’t talk right at the moment. I’ll have to call you back. Do you mind?”

“No, I—” Nancy stopped, realizing she was talking to herself, since the phone on the other end had been disconnected. Her face grew tense as she wondered what was troubling her friend. She replaced the receiver and got up to pace the room.

Time inched by. A half hour passed, then an hour. Finally Nancy could stand it no longer. She dialed the number of the Steele home a second time. It rang and rang unanswered.

Another hour passed and Nancy tried again. This time the housekeeper answered almost at once.

“May I speak with Alana, please,” Nancy said, identifying herself.

“I’m sorry, Miss Drew, but Alana is no longer in the house,” the housekeeper replied.

“Do you know where I can reach her?” Nancy asked, relieved to think that Alana had not called because she had left the house for some reason.

“She didn’t say, Miss. Perhaps you should try the gallery. Mr. Steele might know. Do you wish that number?”

“Please.” Nancy wrote down the number, then dialed it at once. The response at the gallery was no more satisfying than the call to Alana’s home had been. Unable to accept Alana’s prolonged absence, Nancy asked to speak to Mr. Steele.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” she began once she’d introduced herself and told him about her earlier calls. “I’m a little concerned about Alana. It’s been two hours since I talked to her and—”

“I can understand your feelings, Nancy,” Mr. Steele interrupted. “I’ve been quite disturbed by Alana’s behavior myself. She’s been troubled recently and I don’t know why. I just hope you’ll be able to help her.”

“If I can’t talk to her, I don’t see how I can help,” Nancy admitted.

“I simply don’t know where she is, Nancy, I’m sorry. As soon as I see her or hear from her, I will insist she return your call, I promise.”

“I don’t want to put any pressure on her,” Nancy murmured. “I’m just worried. She sounded so glad to hear from me and anxious to visit and then... nothing.”

“I understand. I’m very worried, too.” Mr. Steele’s voice echoed her anxiety and when she replaced the receiver, Nancy had the chilling feeling that there was a great deal going on that the man hadn’t told her—Alana might even be in some sort of danger.

2. A Cry for Help

The afternoon crept by. Nancy dug out the papers her father had been working on and tried to concentrate on them, but her mind kept wandering back to the phone call she’d made to Alana. Finally in a fit of frustration, she shoved the papers back into their folders and dropped on the couch after flipping on the television.

“… a news bulletin,” the television announcer began. “There has been a spectacular robbery at the Steele Gallery in Victoria.” Nancy gasped, her attention fully caught. “The latest word is that only one item was taken in the robbery. Missing is the renowned Eskimo sculpture known as the Tundra, which was due for its first public showing this coming weekend. We were lucky enough to attend a pre-showing and have the following tape of this rare art treasure.”

The screen was suddenly filled with a sight so incredible that Nancy was transfixed. The base of the sculpture was formed by a huge piece of driftwood that undulated in rolling hills and deep wooden valleys. The artist had created a world on the wood, filling the tiny indentations of the driftwood with dried plants and grasses so that it even looked like the photographs she’d seen of the vast frozen tundra.

This world, however, was more than emptiness, for the artist had filled it with what looked like hundreds of tiny carvings. An entire herd of caribou, the large North American cousins of the reindeer, moved through the center of the piece; but they were only a part of it. Wolves harried the herd and several bears were on the fringes. There were even humans dotted here and there in the intricate landscape.

The carvings were incomparably lovely, the animals and people so lifelike it was hard to believe they weren’t real. Nancy felt almost deprived when the tape ended and the newscaster’s face came back on the screen.

“This Eskimo carving, done entirely in ivory, has been something of a mystery to lovers of native art objects and has thus brought a great deal of comment from the art community. To have it stolen on the very eve of its showing—” There was a stir in the crowd behind the newscaster and he turned. “Mr. Steele, Mr. Steele, do you have any word for us? Was anything besides the Tundra taken in the robbery? Do the authorities have any clues?”

The man staring at the camera was tall, attractive, and very angry; his dark eyes flashed and the well-manicured hands were tightening into fists as he forced a smile. “I’m afraid I have no comment at this time,” he said.

“Not even to squelch the rumor that this might have been an inside job?” the newscaster asked.

Nancy gasped and jumped as the telephone interrupted her concentration on the television. Mr. Steele looked very much as though he’d like to hit the newscaster, but he only turned away. Nancy swallowed a sign, turned down the sound and picked up the receiver.

“Nancy? Nancy, is that you?” Alana’s voice was high and frantic, her breathing ragged as though she were crying.

“Alana, where have you been?” Nancy asked. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“No, no, I’m not. I need help, Nancy. Please, can you come to Victoria?” The last was a sob.

“Of course I’ll come,” Nancy assured her. “But what’s the matter? Is it the robbery? How can I help you?”

“Just come, please, I—” The connection was broken sharply.

“Oh!” Nancy exploded, dialing the number for the Steele house.

“Steele residence.” The voice was that of the housekeeper.

“This is Nancy Drew,” Nancy said. “I was just talking to Alana and we were cut off. Is she there?”

“Oh, no, Miss Drew, Alana hasn’t returned yet. I’m afraid I have no idea where you can reach her.”

“But...” Nancy started to protest, then gave her thanks, realizing she had no idea where Alana might have been calling from. She considered calling the gallery, then rejected the idea, aware that it would be a scene of mass confusion after the robbery. She was relieved to hear her father’s key in the door.

His greeting was warm, but he quickly asked, “Is something wrong, Nancy? Couldn’t you reach Alana?”

Nancy began explaining about her calls, Alana’s plea for help, and the robbery. He listened without comment until she’d finished, then shook his head. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said. “Would you like me to call Jeff Carrington? He’s an investigator with the police here in Victoria whose specialty is art theft. He’s bound to be involved in the case already.”

“Oh, Dad, I’d really appreciate it,” Nancy replied. “I just don’t know what to do. Alana must be in terrible trouble and I want to help her, but first I have to find her!”

“I’ll ask Jeff,” her father promised. “He’ll know if she was at the gallery when the robbery took place.” He smiled. “While I’m doing that, why don’t you look over the room service menu and make some decisions about dinner? I assume you’ll be wanting to stay here in case Alana calls again.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Nancy gave her father a quick hug before going to get the menu.

Carson Drew’s conversation proved to be a long one, and when he finished his expression was rather grim. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good, Nancy,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The newscaster was correct: The authorities do seem to feel that this was an inside job. Whoever took the Tundra knew just where to find it and had access to the private safe at the Steele Gallery.”

“But who...?

“Jeff couldn’t give me any details, but from what he implied, I would guess that suspicion at the moment is being directed at Clement Steele, although several of his employees are also being questioned.”

“And Alana?” Nancy was almost afraid to ask.

“Jeff said that she wasn’t being questioned. In fact, he was quite sure that she hadn’t been at the gallery today. She is, however, on the list of people to be contacted.”

“Do you suppose that’s why she was so upset?” Nancy asked. “Because of the robbery, I mean.”

“Didn’t you say she sounded nervous earlier?” her father countered.

Nancy nodded. “She was at home then, and when I called the gallery and talked to Mr. Steele, he didn’t know where she was.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, then Nancy offered her father the menu, asking his comments before she ordered. They were halfway through dinner when the telephone rang once again. Carson Drew answered it, then handed the receiver to Nancy. “Mr. Steele.”

“Hello, Mr. Steele,” Nancy said. “Are you calling for Alana?”

“Is she there?” Mr. Steele asked.

“Here? Of course not,” Nancy gasped. “I just meant—”

“She’s not in Seattle? You haven’t talked to her?” Mr. Steele’s voice dropped.

“I haven’t talked to her since she called and asked me to help her,” Nancy began.

“When was that? Was it after we talked?”

“Yes it was. Actually, it was while I was watching the news report about the robbery. That’s why I didn’t call you at the gallery.”

“What exactly did she say?”

Nancy reported the conversation as well as she could remember it, ending, “I promised her I’d come and help, but I don’t know where to reach her, Mr. Steele. I tried calling your house again, but they said she hadn’t been home.”

“She hasn’t.” His voice was weary.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” Nancy asked. “Is it the robbery? I want to help her.” The too familiar click stopped her words.

“Is something wrong?” her father asked. “Mr. Steele just hung up on me,” Nancy reported, frustration making her angry. “It seems like everyone I talk to is doing that. Nobody wants to give me any answers.”

"Frustrating, isn’t it?” Carson Drew observed. “I’ve been getting a lot of that, too.”

“How is the Haggler case going?” Nancy inquired, eager for the change of subject. “I’ve been so worried about Alana I didn’t even ask.”

“Like your telephone conversations,” Mr. Drew replied. “I’ve never run into so many dead ends. It’s like being in a maze. Everywhere I turn I find a promising lead; I follow it and run directly into a wall.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Nancy asked.

“Help me eat this dessert,” her father answered. “I ordered too much dinner.”

“Didn’t I warn you about that?” Nancy teased. “Hannah would never approve.”

Her father responded with a story of another multi-course meal and Nancy found herself laughing in spite of her fears for Alana. There seemed to be nothing she could do at the moment, so it was better not to dwell on all the terrible things that might be happening to her friend.

The evening passed slowly. The news was full of reports of the robbery, but it was soon clear that no one knew any more than they had during the first moment when Nancy had seen the news flash. Still, Nancy enjoyed watching the reports because they showed the short tape of the Tundra sculpture and she found it hypnotizing.

About halfway through the evening the telephone rang again. Nancy raced to answer it, then suppressed her disappointment when she recognized Helen Haggler’s voice. “May I speak with Carson, Nancy?” the woman asked.

“Of course, Miss Haggler, just a moment.” Nancy handed her father the receiver, which caused him to raise an eyebrow.

Nancy returned to the television, but even as she watched, she was conscious of her father’s voice and the change in his tone. He was upset, she could tell, and he was frowning when he finally replaced the receiver.

“Is something wrong, Dad?” Nancy asked.

“I’m not sure,” he replied.

“Was Miss Haggler unhappy with our progress?”

“She didn’t even ask.” Carson Drew sighed. “She called to tell me she wants the investigation of Investors, Inc. stopped,” he explained. “And she refuses to tell me why.”

“Stopped, but I thought...?” Nancy let it trail off. “What are you going to do?” she asked sure her father wasn’t going to be so easily put off.

“I’m going out to her estate first thing in the morning,” Carson said.

“Do you think someone has threatened her?” Nancy asked, following his line of thought without any difficulty.

“Knowing Helen Haggler, I doubt she’d give in to simple threats. She didn’t get where she is today without being a very strong lady.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’m not going to stop my investigation until I know exactly what has changed her mind.” His face was set and hard and Nancy felt a sudden chill of fear for him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” she asked, almost timidly.

“You’d better stay here and try to reach Alana,” he said.

Nancy nodded, but the premonition of disaster didn’t go away.

3. Strange Disappearance

Carson Drew left for the Haggler estate early the next morning; by eight o’clock, Nancy was pacing the floor. Unable to wait any longer for Alana’s call, she tried the Steele mansion once again. The housekeeper answered in an already weary tone.

“May I speak with Alana?” Nancy asked, then identified herself, sure that the household had been bombarded by calls from reporters.

“I’m sorry, Miss Drew, but Miss Steele is away,” the housekeeper responded

“Away?” Nancy frowned. “But I don’t understand.”

“She left on a trip around lunchtime yesterday, Miss. I’m very sorry.” The connection was broken before Nancy could protest.

“Away on a trip, my foot,” Nancy murmured to herself, suddenly sure her friend was in real trouble. “If she left, it wasn’t on anything as casual as a little trip.”

Nancy spent a few minutes reviewing all that had happened since yesterday’s call to Alana, and none of it made much sense to her. She was haunted by the call from Alana and her plea for help.

“There’s no use waiting around here,” she told herself firmly. Her father would be gone most of the day, and perhaps even overnight if his conference with Miss Haggler continued late into the day. Alana had begged her to come and help, and Nancy, sure that help was needed, was ready to go.

Packing an overnight case and calling about arrangements to get from Seattle to Victoria didn’t take very long. She felt better as soon as she was on her way. She only hoped her father wouldn’t be too upset to come back to the hotel and find only a note waiting for him.

Once in Victoria, Nancy hesitated. She considered calling the Steele mansion again, but she had a strong suspicion that she would only be told the same story. Better to rent a car and just drive to the mansion.

Nancy arrived there a little before noon. A maid answered her knock, but would tell her only that neither Alana nor Mr. Steele was at home. When Nancy requested more information, the maid summoned the housekeeper, whom she called Mrs. Dentley. The housekeeper merely repeated the story she’d given Nancy on the telephone.

“Alana asked me to come,” Nancy protested, sensing that the woman was lying. “I really must see her.”

The woman shrugged and closed the door on Nancy, leaving her standing on the doorstep.

Frustrated, Nancy looked around. The estate was set well back from the street in the midst of beautifully cared for gardens. Flower scents filled the air and in the distance she could hear the steady whirring of a mower.

Aware that pounding on the door would bring her no information, Nancy followed the sound of the mower around to the side of the mansion. A young man was operating it, and he stopped at once when he saw her.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“I’ve come to see Alana Steele,” Nancy said, liking his friendly grin. “She called me yesterday and asked me to come and help her, but now she doesn’t seem to be home and I don’t know where to get in touch with her. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

The young man studied her for a moment, I lien shrugged. “She left the house shortly after noon yesterday. I noticed, because she ran out like someone was after her. Hopped in her car and took off. As far as I know, she hasn’t come back.”

“Not even last night?” Nancy’s worry about her friend deepened.

“Her car is kind of noisy and I live over the garage, so I would have heard it if she’d come in.

“Did she take any luggage with her?” Nancy asked, remembering the housekeeper’s story about a trip.

The young man shook his head. “Mr. Steele might know where she is,” he suggested. “Or maybe her boyfriend would.”

“Who would that be?” Nancy inquired.

“Tod Harper. He works with her at the gallery.”

Nancy sighed, sure that she’d gotten all the information she could from the young man, and feeling even, more anxious about Alana. She thanked him and returned to her car. It was obvious that the Steele Gallery would have to be her next stop and she was sure she wasn’t going to find Alana there. She only hoped that Alana’s uncle would have more information for her today than he’d had last night.

The Steele Gallery was a handsome building, new but carefully designed to fit in with the older structures on each side. At the moment, however, it boasted a large CLOSED sign on the front door and there were several official-looking cars parked in the area. Not sure she would be admitted, Nancy tried the front door. To her surprise, it was unlocked.

“We’re closed today, Miss.” The guard stepped out of the shadows the moment she entered the dim reception area.

“I was looking for Mr. Steele or Tod Harper,” Nancy said quickly. “I’m a friend of Alana Steele’s.”

The man’s eyes remained unfriendly as he studied her for a moment, then he nodded. “You will find them both down that hall to your left.”

Nancy took two steps in the indicated direction.

“Wait a minute,” the guard said. “You’re not a reporter or anything, are you?” he asked.

“No, I’m not,” Nancy answered.

“Better not be,” the guard muttered as he waved her forward. “They aren’t giving any interviews today, that’s for sure.”

Nancy followed the hall to where a series of offices lined a corridor behind the main show-rooms of the gallery. Since only one office bore a name—“Clement Steele”—Nancy headed for it.

“I don’t have to listen to this!” The man’s voice was loud and full of anger, stopping Nancy’s hand before she could knock on the door.

“You work for me; you’ll listen to whatever I have to say,” an equally angry voice replied.

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 tired! 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.

Дата добавления: 2017-01-14