Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Seventy-Six 3 страница

A knock on the door pulled her attention back to her present situation. She got to her feet as Mr. Steele entered. “Did you reach your father, Nancy?” he asked.

“No,” Nancy replied. “It seems he’s on his way to Victoria. He’s booked rooms for us at the Creighton Hotel.”

“Then you won’t be staying here?” Mr. Steele didn’t look too disturbed.

“You’ve been very kind, but no. Are the officers still here? I should tell them where I can be reached.”

“They just left, but I’ll give them the message if they check back tonight.”

Nancy thought of the notebook in her purse and felt a twinge of relief. She certainly didn’t want to turn it over to Mr. Steele, since she still felt he was hiding something.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go up and pack my things,” she said.

“Would you and your father be my guests for dinner this evening?” Mr. Steele asked, surprising her once again. “It would be a professional consultation, if your father would consider representing me at this time.”

“I’m sorry,” Nancy said, “but I can’t speak for him, Mr. Steele. I’m not even sure when he will be arriving in Victoria. He hadn’t reached the hotel yet when I called.”

Mr. Steele nodded. “Well, please ask him to call me when you do see him.”

“Of course.” Nancy started toward the door, suddenly anxious to leave the house.

“It’s for Alana’s protection,” Mr. Steele said, stopping her. “The longer she’s missing, the more trouble she’s going to face when she returns. The gallery has its lawyers, but I’d like someone special to represent her.”

“I’m sure my father would be glad to help her,” Nancy said. “The important thing is for us to find her.” She hesitated a moment, then told Mr. Steele about the phone call she’d received saying only that Alana had warned her to leave Victoria.

Mr. Steele shook his head. “Perhaps she’s right, Nancy,” he said. “I have no right to ask you to stay here and put yourself in danger. Until I heard what happened to Harper, I honestly didn’t think there was any danger. I’ll understand if your father insists on your returning to Seattle tomorrow.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nancy stated, making up her mind. “Alana called here for me because she needs my help, no matter what she said.”

“She didn’t say where she is?”

Nancy shook her head. “And I don’t think she’s the one who placed the call,” she observed, thinking out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“The maid said a gentleman was calling, but when I answered, it was Alana.”

“But who would be with her?” Mr. Steele murmured.

“I was planning to ask Tod if he had any ideas,” Nancy admitted. “You don’t know who it could be, do you?”

Mr. Steele shook his head, but his eyes skittered away from hers guiltily. Finally, she sighed and started for the door again. He said nothing to stop her.

It took little time to pack her few belongings, though she had to check the room carefully since everything had been torn apart by whoever was looking for the notebook. She would be glad to leave, yet she felt she was deserting Alana, since her friend would have no idea where to reach her now.

After leaving the Creighton Hotel number with Mr. Steele and the servants, she set off alone. As she drove across town to the hotel, Nancy realized how famished she was, after her whirlwind day. She hurried into the respectable old hotel, eager to see her father, to sit down to dinner with him and discuss both the Haggler case and Alana’s mysterious disappearance.

The desk clerk greeted her with sobering news. “Your father hasn’t checked in yet, Miss Drew,” he informed her.

“Have there been any calls or messages?” Nancy asked.

The man checked, then shook his head.

Unhappy, Nancy accepted her key and went up to her attractive room. After about five minutes, she consulted the room service menu and ordered dinner. Waiting for her food only increased her unease and her feeling that something was wrong. Finally, she opened her address book and placed a call to Helen Haggler.

“Ah, Nancy, how are you?” Miss Haggler asked.

“A little anxious, Miss Haggler,” Nancy admitted. “I’ve been missing connections with my father all day and I was wondering if you could tell me what time he left your home today.”

“What time he what?” Miss Haggler sounded surprised. “I thought you were calling to set up another appointment.”

“Another appointment?”

“Why, yes, I’ve been trying to reach him most of the day, myself.” Miss Haggler sounded upset. “It’s not like your father not to call, you know.”

“But he was on his way to see you.” Nancy said. “He left the hotel early this morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. He wanted to talk to you about your change of mind. Are you saying he never reached your estate?” Nancy felt a cold stab of fear.

“I’ve been here all day,” Helen Haggler replied. “He’s neither arrived nor called. Haven’t you heard from him?”

“No... well, sort of,” Nancy amended. “I’m in Victoria.” She explained how she’d come to be staying at the Creighton Hotel.

“Well, when you do see him, ask him to call, will you?” Miss Haggler said. “No matter how late it is.”

“I’ll do that,” Nancy promised, but even as she spoke the words, she was afraid her father’s disappearance was more than just a case of missed connections and changed plans.

8. A Cruel Bargain

When her food arrived, Nancy had little appetite for it, but she ate, hoping the meal would distract her from the fear inside her. She was just finishing her dessert when the telephone rang, so startlingly that she dropped her fork.

“Miss Nancy Drew?” The voice was male and unfamiliar.

“This is she,” Nancy replied.

“I'm calling about your father,” the voice informed her.

“Where is he? Who is this? What’s going on?” The questions boiled out of her.

“Your father is with me,” the voice answered coldly.

“What do you mean he’s with you?”

“All you need to know is that your father is with me, and if you want to see him again, you’re going to have to find Alana Steele for us.”

“But I don’t know where Alana is,” Nancy protested. “I’ve been trying to find her.”

“If you want your father back, don’t make excuses.” The voice was hard and ugly.

“How do I know you have my father?” Nancy asked, getting her fears under control with a stern effort of will.

“Listen to this,” the voice ordered.

Nancy started to object, but there was a click and in a moment she heard her father’s voice.

“Nancy, I’m all right. I’m being held... at a place and I’ll be taken care of as long as you don’t try to contact the authorities or anyone else. Don’t try to find me. Just do as they tell you.”

The tape clicked. “Dad!” Nancy moaned, aching to talk to him, to really hear his voice.

“If you want to talk to your father again, you’d better find Alana Steele,” the voice told her unemotionally.”

“But I don’t know where she is,” Nancy wailed, desperation bringing tears to her eyes.

“You’re a detective. You find her.” There was a short bark of cruel laughter. “And remember what your father told you about contacting the authorities. If you do, you’ll never see him again.” The receiver clicked and the line went dead.

For a moment she sat still, tears flooding down her cheeks, her heart pounding with panic and fear. Then she remembered the sound of her father’s voice, calm and strong, unafraid. She closed her eyes and tried to draw strength from his courage, his faith in her.

Alana was the key, she realized. But how? Who wanted to find Alana badly enough to actually kidnap Carson Drew? And why? There was only one reason that came to her mind—the missing sculpture, the Tundra.

Her mind once more working logically, Nancy picked up her purse and took out the notebook she’d found in Alana’s room. It was now much easier for her to believe that someone had tried to harm Tod Harper, then gone to the mansion and slipped inside to search it.

“What could Alana know that makes her so important?” she asked herself, opening the notebook.

The first part of the notebook was simply a detailed cataloging of the individual carvings of the Tundra. Pages and pages listing caribou in various poses, the wolves, the bears, the tiny humans that populated the man-created tundra. Nancy skimmed through them, then noticed that several were starred.

“What’s going on here?” she murmured, then she found the note at the end of the list.

“I’ve marked several carvings that seem very familiar to me,” it read in Alana’s handwriting. “If only I could remember where I’ve seen the ones like them.”

The next section was devoted to research on the entire sculpture. There were notes about the owner, Franklin Cole, and his collection of Eskimo art, which included more than just the one piece. Only after she’d finished that did she find the more interesting part of the research that Alana had done and written down:

The Tundra has been a part of legend for quite some time. It is reputed to be the key to the mysterious disappearance of the ivory treasures of Seal Bay, a small Eskimo community once said to be the home of the most talented Eskimo carvers in the world.

These artists refused to sell any of their works, claiming they were a treasured part of their worship. The village fell on hard times, yet they still refused to sell and gradually all the collectors gave up—all but one. Franklin Cole continued to pressure the starving people.

At this time, according to legend, Qinggoq, the most talented artist of the village, gathered all their works and took them into the wilderness to hide them. The only piece left was his own masterpiece, the Tundra. This he refused to sell.

The hard times continued, mostly due to manipulations and tricks by Cole, and in the end the villagers decided to sell the Tundra to Cole in return for his promise never to enter Seal Bay again.

The legend ends with the story that the artist was enraged by the sale of his masterpiece to the man he considered the enemy of the village. He cursed the village and refused to return the treasures he’d hidden.

The story ended there and Nancy shook her head. It was fascinating, but she could see no relationship between an ancient legend and what was happening now. She flipped forward through the notebook, seeking more notes, something that would make this notebook valuable enough to risk capture by whoever had sought it at the Steele mansion.

There was nothing. The rest of the pages were blank.

“What did they want?” she asked herself, looking around the anonymous hotel room in frustration. “What does this notebook have to do with the theft of the Tundra and how is Alana involved?”

The price of Carson Drew’s freedom was finding Alana, and Nancy obviously wasn’t going to be able to do it here. But where could she begin?

“Tod!” Nancy realized. She looked at her watch, feeling it must be nearly midnight, but it was just after seven P.M. TWO quick phone calls located him at the nearby hospital. Not giving herself time to think ahead, Nancy hid the notebook in her suitcase, then picked up her purse and keys and hurried out of the hotel.

The hospital was fairly busy as visiting hours were ending, but Nancy had no trouble finding Tod’s room. The door stood open, but she knocked anyway. His face was a mass of scrapes and bruises, but his grin seemed real enough.

“Nancy Drew, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Well, since you missed our meeting this afternoon, I thought I’d come here and talk to you,” Nancy began, feeling suddenly out of place and uncomfortable.

“You might be better off staying away from me,” Tod said, his grin fading. “Either that or stay off the streets. Don’t you know what happened to me?”

“Who did this to you?” Nancy asked. “And why, Tod?”

Tod began shifting in the bed, his eyes evading hers. “How would I know? It was an accident. Someone wasn’t watching where he was going and I was cutting across the middle of the block. Just an accident.”

“That’s not what the officer told us,” Nancy said.

“What officer? When?” Tod stopped his squirming. “What are you talking about?”

“There was a... someone got into the Steele mansion while I was downtown waiting for you. They searched Alana’s room and mine. Do you have any idea what they were looking for?”

Their eyes locked for a moment and Nancy had the strong feeling Tod was trying to decide something.

“Probably Alana’s notebook,” Tod said at last, “if she didn’t have it with her when she disappeared.”

“Why would anyone want the notebook?” Nancy asked.

Tod shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest idea. Why would anyone steal an art object that would be impossible to sell legally or even show publicly?”

“Have you ever seen the notebook?” Nancy forced herself to sound casual, aware that she could frighten Tod off the subject.

“Only every day since we got the Tundra,” Tod answered. “She cataloged it, then she started trying to research its history. The girl was really hooked on that piece.”

“But do you know what was in the notebook?” Nancy asked.

“Not really. I mean she never told me or showed it to me. Why?”

“Then why do you think someone was after it?” Nancy had to ask.

Tod’s face grew cold. “I think you should leave,” he said.

“Talk to me, Tod,” Nancy cried in desperation. “Help me find Alana. She called me asking for my help, but I can’t do anything without help from you.”

“Ask her uncle where she is,” Tod growled. “I wasn’t the inside man and I don’t believe that Alana was, so that just leaves Clement Steele himself.”

“So where is Alana?” Nancy asked.

Tod shook his head, then winced. “Go away, Nancy Drew,” he said. “I can’t help you.”

“Can you tell me anything about what Alana was doing?” Nancy asked, controlling her panic and frustration with a firm hand. It was much easier to be a detective when she was just trying to solve a puzzle; knowing that her father’s safety depended on her actions made it much harder. “Is there somewhere she might have gone? I think I remember her mentioning something called the Firebird.”

Tod’s eyes flickered to her face, but Nancy could read nothing more than surprise in them. “She wouldn’t go there,” he said.

“Why not?” It took all her control to keep her voice light, only mildly curious.

“That lodge is really run-down now. She must have been talking about the old days when it was a special place to stay. It’s not even open to the public anymore as far as I know.” He frowned. “What made you think of it?”

“The name I guess,” Nancy answered casually. “It stuck in my mind. It sounds sort of special.” She swallowed hard. “What about friends, Tod? Is there anyone who would hide her?”

“If you talked to her this afternoon, why didn’t she tell you where she was?” Tod demanded, his eyes suddenly full of suspicion. “Why is it so important to you tonight?”

Nancy hesitated, longing to tell him the truth, longing to share her fears for her father with someone; but she couldn’t trust him. As long as her father was in danger, she couldn’t trust anyone. “Alana told me to forget her, to leave town before I became a victim,” she answered honestly.

Tod’s face grew grim. “She gave you good advice, Nancy Drew,” he said. “Keep asking questions and you could end up like this... or worse!”

9. Dark Pursuit

Nancy caught her breath but before she could speak again, a nurse came to tell her she had to leave. She murmured a few words of polite farewell, then felt a chill as Tod simply looked at her. “Be careful,” he warned, unsmiling. “They aren’t playing games, Nancy.”

Night had deepened to darkness while she was inside and in spite of the lights and people in the parking area, Nancy felt very much alone. She drove back to the hotel, stopping in the lobby only long enough to ask about the Firebird Lodge.

“It’s located outside the city,” the desk clerk said. “An old-fashioned place. Used to be quite well known, but it fell on hard times and I believe it’s a kind of rooming house now. Were you planning on going out there?”

“I think someone there might be able to help my father and me with a case we’re working on,” Nancy said. “I just thought I’d get the address and perhaps a map of the area for my father.”

“Is your father coming in tonight?” the desk clerk asked.

“Probably not till very late,” Nancy said, wishing that the words were true, that she was expecting him to arrive. “I’ll want you to hold the room, anyway, just so it will be ready for him.”

The clerk nodded. “I’ll get a map of the area and show you where the lodge is located,” he said.

Nancy watched his drawing and listened attentively to what he said, but all the time she kept wondering if it was important. Tod hadn’t seemed to think so, yet Alana had mentioned something about the secret of the Tundra being found at the Firebird. It was the only clue she had.

“I’ll check it out in the morning,” she told herself as she got into the elevator. At the moment she was so tired she wasn’t sure she could make it down the long hall to her room. It had been an endless day.

And there was still the notebook, she reminded herself. Though she’d gone through it once, she realized that she hadn’t known what she was looking for, so she might have missed something. Sighing, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on the light.

She gasped in horror at the sight that greeted her: the contents of her suitcase lay in a shambles. “I should have taken it with me,” Nancy chided herself as she picked up the sweater within which she’d hid the notebook. The notebook was gone, of course.

Tears of frustration welled up. For a moment she was furious enough to call the authorities to report the break-in, but then she remembered the cold voice on the telephone and she knew she couldn’t risk it.

“All right, you’ve won this round,” she murmured to the empty room, “but I’m going to win the fight. I’m going to find Alana and learn this secret and then I’m going to get Dad and the Tundra back.”

The words were brave, but they echoed in the empty room, underlining how alone she was. Nancy looked around and knew she couldn’t stay.

Her eyes went to the map she still held. Could she find the place at night? She looked at the phone, then rejected the idea of calling ahead. “I hope you left me some clues, Alana,” she said as she pulled on a jacket and prepared to leave the hotel again.

When she stepped out into the hall, however, she hesitated, suddenly realizing something. For anyone to have searched her room, they had to know she’d left the hotel. Were they watching her? She looked up and down the hall. It was empty and quiet. Someone in the lobby? That seemed more likely.

Nancy moved away from the elevators, following the hall to the far end where the stairs were located. She used them and smiled as she stepped out at the side of the hotel only a few yards from where her car was parked. “Now all I have to do is find Firebird Lodge,” she told herself. “I just hope the desk clerk knew what he was drawing on this map.”

The drive through Victoria was calming and gave her time to do a little thinking about all that had happened; The trouble was, her thoughts weren’t very conclusive. Everyone seemed to have secrets. Alana, her uncle, Tod—they had all asked her to help; yet none of them had trusted her with the whole truth.

But what about her father? Nancy asked herself. Why kidnap him? She frowned at the night beyond her car windows. Obviously, he had been abducted before she went to Victoria; otherwise he would have arrived at the Haggler Estate.

Suddenly Nancy became aware of headlights behind her in the darkness. At first they were approaching quickly, then they seemed to slow until they were maintaining the same distance between their car and the rental one she was driving.

“Well, well, well, they must have been watching the car instead of the lobby,” she murmured, wondering if they had followed her to the hospital, too. It would have been impossible to tell in the city traffic.

Nancy allowed the car to slow, trying to decide what to do. She couldn’t just lead them to the lodge.

Should she return to the hotel? Her heart sank at the thought. She spread the map out next to her and studied it in the light from the dashboard. There were a number of roads in the area and some of them seemed to be connected. She had to lose the car that trailed her!

Nancy began watching for the road signs and when she spotted the one she was looking for, she sharply turned down the road, cut her lights, and drove as quickly as she could through the dark woods. For a moment there were no lights behind her and she felt a flash of joy. But then the lights appeared again.

Nancy turned her lights back on and pressed down hard on the accelerator. It was a mad race through the forest. The road twisted and turned, climbing and dropping, making the small car bounce over the rough spots. It became a nightmare of trees rearing out of the darkness and sudden squeals of tires as she veered around hidden curves.

Still the lights remained behind her, and it was obvious that her small rental car simply did not have the power to escape her pursuer.

The same thought seemed to occur to the driver of the chase car, and the lights loomed larger and larger as the driver closed the gap between them. Nancy looked around desperately, seeking a side road, anything; but the darkness was complete.

“You don’t have me yet,” she shouted as the big car pulled up alongside. She tried to accelerate, but her car simply couldn’t go any faster. The bigger car loomed beside her and as she watched, the driver began to pull toward her, obviously trying to cut her off, to force her off the road and into the trees.

10. Secret at Firebird Lodge

Terrified, Nancy gripped the wheel until her knuckles gleamed white in the light from the dashboard. Then the driver of the other car jerked his wheel sharply. Nancy hit her brakes hard, letting her lighter car skid as the bigger, heavier car shot past her and sailed off the road to their right, past the trees and into a small open area.

Fighting the wheel, she managed to hold the car on the road as it lurched to a stop. Only then was she able to look to see what had happened to the other car.

The silence of the night was broken by motor sounds and as Nancy slowly turned her small car around, her lights shone on the bigger one. Relieved, Nancy began to laugh nervously.

The clearing was a boggy area, and the car had sunk to its fenders as the driver raced the motor and spun the buried tires.

Still shaking from the ordeal, Nancy drove slowly back the way she’d come. Whenever she saw a sign, she stopped to read it, checking her map until she came upon a sign overgrown with vines that said it was two miles to Firebird Lodge. She turned onto the rutted road.

“The way things have been going, the place will probably be closed,” she told herself grimly.

The road wasn’t promising. Weeds grew in the middle and the trees were so thick and tall they met overhead, creating a dark, menacing tunnel. Still, she eventually reached the end of the road and a hulking building with lights on waiting to greet her.

Not sure what she was going to say, Nancy parked in a row of three cars and turned off the motor. For the first time since she’d discovered she was being followed she relaxed. She leaned against the seat and smoothed back her hair from her damp forehead as the door of the lodge opened.

To Nancy’s amazement, Alana Steele stood in the path of the light. Feeling as if she were in a dream, Nancy opened the car door and stepped out, then leaned weakly on the fender.

“Nancy, Nancy, is that you?” Alana called. “How did you find us?”

“Us?” Nancy was suddenly aware of the young man standing behind her friend, and she felt a chill of apprehension. He must have been the one who placed Alana’s call to the Steele mansion.

“Are you all right, Nancy?” Alana gasped, hurrying forward.

“I think so,” Nancy replied. “There was a car chasing me. They tried to force me off the road, but they ended up in a bog.”

“Come inside, please,” the man said. “You can ask each other questions there. I think your friend could use some hot tea or maybe cocoa, Alana.”

Nancy nodded, allowing Alana to take her arm and lead her up the steps and into the large front room of the old log building. She said nothing until she was seated on an old, worn couch and holding a warm mug in her still-cold hands.

“How did you find me?” Alana asked.

“You mentioned the Firebird,” Nancy explained. “The last time you called, you said you’d found the secret of the Tundra here. I didn’t know where else to start.”

“I called to tell you to go back to Seattle,” Alana reminded her.

“I can’t,” Nancy said simply. She looked up at the man who’d returned from the rear of the lodge with a plate of brownies. He was a young man of Eskimo descent and his dark eyes and smile seemed quite friendly.

“This is Ben Qinggoq,” Alana said. “His grandfather was the master artist who created the Tundra.”

Nancy shook hands with the young man, but her frown stayed in place. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. “What’s the discovery you made at Firebird Lodge?”

“When I was cataloging the individual carvings in the Tundra, I kept feeling I’d seen some of them before,” Alana began. “It haunted me. Then the day you called me, I remembered where I’d seen such carvings. They were here.” She pointed to the mantel.

“Here?” Nancy got to her feet and crossed to the huge, smoke-darkened slab of wood that stood above the inlaid stone fireplace. As soon as she drew close, she could see what Alana meant. There was a whole series of creatures carved in the edge of the mantel.

“My parents brought me here when I was just a child. They were visiting Uncle Clement, but all I remembered were those carvings. I loved them so much.”

“They’re exquisite,” Nancy murmured tracing one with the tip of her finger. “But I still don’t understand why it was so important.”

“When the Firebird Lodge was being used for tourists, the mantel was quite a celebrated piece,” Ben Qinggoq said, coming to stand beside Nancy. “My grandfather was an angry, stubborn man. He’d refused to show any more work after the villagers sold the Tundra, but his name and his talent were still known to collectors and this was the only example of it still available. People came here to see the mantel and to talk about the legend of the Tundra.”

Alana nodded. “The owners of the lodge even had a brochure printed up showing the mantel and telling the legend about the man who’d carved it. I had the brochure, and when I came upon it recently, I had the whole story. That’s when I knew why the Tundra was stolen and by whom.”

Nancy stared at the quiet brunette in shock. “You know who stole the Tundra?” she gasped.

Alana’s gray eyes warmed and she smiled. “As soon as I knew why it was taken, it was easy to figure out who took it,” she explained.

“But why didn’t you call someone?” Nancy demanded. “The authorities suspect you or your uncle of stealing it, Alana. And your uncle is frantic with worry about you.” Then Nancy suddenly remembered the tape recording of her father’s voice and the warning she’d been given.

“It’s not quite that simple, Nancy,” Alana said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been hiding here ever since I escaped,” Alana answered. “And I can’t go home because I can’t go to the authorities.”

Nancy made a sputtering noise of frustration as all the questions tripped over her tongue. “Escaped from whom?” she finally managed.

“From Jasper Cole and Felix Borge,” Alana answered.

“Cole?” Nancy frowned.

“A nephew of the original purchaser of the Tundra,” Ben supplied.

Alana nodded. “They were also former partners of Franklin Cole,” she explained. “Junior partners, I’d guess, since they’re men in their late thirties, and Franklin Cole was in his seventies when he died. Anyway, they told me they’d worked with him on his collection when they approached me with offers of information about the history of the Tundra.”

“They approached you?” Nancy began to see the first outlines of the pattern of what Alana was telling her.

“At the time, I just thought they were being helpful,” Alana admitted ruefully. “They did give me some information. I just didn’t realize they were getting as much information from me as they were supplying.”

“What kind of information?” Nancy asked. Alana’s expression grew sad. “It doesn’t matter. I finally realized what was happening and that’s when I talked to you the first time. At that moment, I thought you might be able to help; but it was already too late.”

“Too late for what?” Nancy frowned, not liking the turn of the conversation.

“An hour later I was kidnapped,” Alana answered simply.

11. Searching a Legend

“Kidnapped?” Nancy felt a chill at the similarity between Alana’s story and what had happened to her father.

Дата добавления: 2017-01-14