Read Password to Larkspur Lane Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Kidnapping, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #Older People, #Swindlers and Swindling, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #General, #Mystery and Detective Stories
Password to Larkspur Lane (13 page)
“What of it?” said a second speaker.
“I suppose I’ll have to chase into her room again,” the nurse said irritably.
“I wouldn’t bother,” came another voice.
“But I can’t let anything happen to her,” said the nurse.
“She hasn’t signed yet?”
“No.”
Nancy looked around the room. There was not even a clothes closet to hide in!
Mrs. Eldridge groaned. “Oh child! What will you do?”
As the doorknob turned, Nancy dived under the bed. It was very dusty there and she lay motionless, almost afraid to breathe.
Nancy could see a pair of white leather-shod feet stride into the room and pause at the foot of the bed, a few inches from her nose.
“You screamed!” Miss Tyson said angrily. “Why, Mrs. Eldridge?”
“Oh, did I?” the patient asked in a weak voice. “I am sorry.”
“Whether you are sorry or not makes no difference!” Miss Tyson snapped. “There are other patients in the house whom you upset by carrying on that way. Why did you scream?”
“I am really very sorry,” Mrs. Eldridge said, trying to find some excuse for her outcry. “It won’t happen again.”
“I asked you why,” the nurse said sharply.
There was no reply.
“Answer my question!” exclaimed the nurse, stamping her foot and raising a cloud of dust. Nancy pressed the hat veil to her face, trying not to sneeze.
“The—the consommé is very hot,” Mrs. El dridge said. “I burned my tongue.”
“A likely story.” The nurse sniffed. “The broth is not as hot as all that after being carried up from the kitchen. No, that is not the truth, Mrs. Eldridge, and I intend to find out your real reason.”
“Oh, Miss Tyson,” begged the patient, “don’t scold me.”
“I had to make a special trip up here on your account.”
“That’s too bad. I’m sorry.”
“Well, why did you scream? What have you been doing?” rasped the nurse.
“Nothing,” replied the old lady. “I haven’t been out of bed.”
“You’ve been acting funny ever since this afternoon. You’re up to something!” Then the nurse added in a bullying tone, “You know what I’m going to do?”
“What?” asked Mrs. Eldridge.
“Search this room!”
CHAPTER XVII
Attic Hideout
AT THE nurse’s words, Nancy froze in horror. From her hiding place under the bed she strained to hear the old woman’s reply.
“Well, go ahead and search,” quavered Mrs. Eldridge. “What do I care?”
“You spunky old dear!” Nancy thought.
The nurse snorted. “Hmm, I guess it would be a waste of time! Things are beginning to get on my nerves! You, especially!”
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Eldridge said meekly.
“I think you screamed just to make trouble,” snapped the nurse, “because you know another patient is due here, and you want to give the place a bad reputation! Well, spare yourself the trouble. The new patient’s nurse just telephoned that she will not arrive today.”
Nancy nearly groaned. “If someone questions the gatekeeper, I’m sunk!” she thought. “I must get Mrs. Eldridge out of here quickly!”
“I’ll give you five minutes to eat. Then it’ll be nine o’clock. Zero hour for you, old girl.” With an ugly laugh, the nurse stamped out of the room.
Nancy waited until the sound of her footsteps had died away before she crept from her hiding place. Hastily she brushed the dust from her black clothing.
“You were wonderful, Mrs. Eldridge!” she whispered. “Now we must work fast and quietly. Can you walk?”
“Yes. They keep us confined to wheelchairs to weaken us, but I’m still pretty spry. I walk up and down this room for a little exercise. Once I tried to climb out of a ground-floor window, but the vines pulled loose and I fell and dislocated my shoulder.”
“Is that how it happened?” Nancy marveled at the elderly woman’s courage.
While Mrs. Eldridge talked, Nancy had taken off her long coat, hat, and gloves. Now she helped the woman to put on her own shoes and Nancy’s costume. As she did so, the excited old lady looked at the supper tray.
“Food is cooked with drugs to keep us drowsy all the time,” she said. “I eat as little of it as possible.”
“How dreadful!” Nancy murmured as she helped her to the door.
“Don’t take the main stairs,” Mrs. Eldridge whispered. “There is a service flight at the rear end of the hall.”
“Are you sure?” Nancy asked.
“Yes. I explored this place in the dark until they took to locking me in at night. By the way, how could you open my door?”
“I’ll tell you later,” said Nancy. “Come now.”
The service stairway was a steep flight of enclosed steps which Mrs. Eldridge had to go down sideways, one at a time.
With maddening slowness, they reached the second floor and saw lights reflected under the door leading to the hall. The stairs squeaked and Nancy’s nerves grew tenser. Near the ground floor the staircase divided and Mrs. Eldridge said they should take the left branch.
“The other leads into the kitchen. This one takes you to the cellar landing and the entrance into the garden,” she whispered.
A few minutes later they stepped into the open air. As fast as Mrs. Eldridge could go, the two hastened to the car. Nancy’s heart leaped with joy when she saw its hulking shadow among the trees.
“Bess!” she whispered. “Any trouble?”
“No, but I thought you’d never come!” Bess choked back tears of relief as she and Nancy helped Mrs. Eldridge into the back of the car.
“You’ll have to sit on the floor, and keep your head down,” Nancy warned Mrs. Eldridge. “Go now, Bess. Good luck!”
From her hiding place, Nancy strained to hear Mrs. Eldridge’s reply
“Oh, Nancy, aren’t you coming?” Bess whispered.
“No, I have work to do here.”
“Well, for goodness sake, be careful!”
The car moved out of the shadows to the driveway. Nancy followed and watched the red taillights proceed toward the closed gate.
“Oh, I hope there’ll be no trouble,” she thought. The watchman came out with a flashlight and shone it into Bess’s window as she stopped. The dog began to bark frantically.
For what seemed an age, the gatekeeper held the light in Bess’s face and Nancy heard him talking, but could not make out the words.
What was the trouble?
What was the trouble?
At last he shrugged, opened the gate, and the car shot through. As the red taillights disappeared down the lane, Nancy gave a sigh of relief.
“Now to send Ned the alarm!”
As she turned back toward the house, Nancy saw that it was ablaze with lights. Figures darted back and forth across the illumined windows. Reaching the mansion, Nancy concealed herself in the shrubbery along the foundation. A window above her was suddenly flung open, and Bell’s voice rang out.
“Emily, your carelessness is inexcusable!” he thundered. “I am not afraid of the old crone’s escaping, but she will give us a pretty hour’s work searching the grounds.”
“Listen, Simon,” Miss Tyson replied. “I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“You can keep your eyes open,” he snapped. “Mrs. Eldridge smuggled her bracelet to that doctor right under your nose!”
“Forget it,” the woman retorted. “You’ve taken in enough money on these old women. Why don’t you quit this business? Then we could all leave for South America as you promised.”
“Not with several thousand dollars still to be had,” Bell snarled. “See that every shrub and bush in this place is combed for Mrs. Eldridge, and when you find her, bring her to me.”
“All right.”
“We will wring the money out of her tonight!”
Nancy peered upward. She could see Bell’s pointed beard thrust from the window. Suppose he saw her? But after a few moments he withdrew his head.
“So they are searching the grounds,” Nancy mused. “In that case, Mrs. Eldridge’s room would be the safest place for me.”
The Great Dane growled menacingly at the gatehouse. Nancy shivered. Suppose they let him loose!
She edged softly to the rear door by which she and the elderly woman had left, and crept up the steep, dark stairs. When she was halfway to the third story, the door below her was thrown open and a voice asked:
“Has anyone looked in here?”
As light streamed into the stairway, Nancy ran on tiptoe to the top.
“I’ll check the third floor,” the same woman said.
As she started upward, Nancy whirled and quietly sprinted up the narrow stairs, two steps in one leap. At the top was a low door. The young detective opened it, stepped into blackness, and closed the door softly behind her. From the mustiness she surmised that it was an attic. For a few moments she listened. Silence. Then came a scurrying noise and a squeak.
Mice!
Mice!
Nancy felt along the wall until her fingers found a switch. She flicked it on and a single bulb lighted in the middle of a great raftered room. Here and there stood trunks, barrels, and old furniture. Against one wall rested dozens of dismantled bedsteads.
In the middle a ladder led up to rafters and there Nancy could see a partial floor with boxes and piles of newspapers.
Suddenly she noticed a small, round window at one end of the attic. With a gasp Nancy quickly flicked off the light, hoping no one had seen it from the grounds!
She felt her way to the window and looked down. Several flashlights were moving near the outbuildings.
“That’s where I’ll have to go,” she said to herself, “in order to send the alarm to Ned. I must reach the pigeon loft unseen.”
Just then she heard a low sigh behind her in the dark attic. It seemed to come from above. “Who could be hiding here? Or maybe it’s a prisoner. Morgan!” she thought. “So this is where they’re keeping him.”
Nancy felt her way back to the ladder and cautiously climbed part way up.
“Morgan—” she whispered.
There was a gasp. “Yes—who is it?”
“Nancy Drew. Are you well enough to move?”
“No,” was the faint reply. “I’m weak.”
Nancy’s heart sank. “Never mind,” she said encouragingly. “I’m going to get you out of here somehow. Just—”
At that moment footsteps clumped on the attic stairs. Nancy scampered up the ladder and felt among the boxes and papers. Just as she crouched down, the light went on.
From a cramped position she saw that Morgan, very pale, lay on a mattress, well-concealed amid the boxes. Scattered at her feet were bits of torn newspaper.
Peering between boxes, she saw two men at the door. One had a thin, pinched face, the other was stout with pale, flabby features.
The big man was puffing. “There’s nobody here, Tarr. All those stairs for nothing!”
“Chief said he saw a light.”
“Chief’s wrong.”
The other man sighed. “We’d better search, anyway.”
Very cautiously, Nancy tried to relieve her cramped muscles. But just as they walked beneath the platform, her foot slipped, pushing a small piece of paper off the platform. As it fluttered down, the two men looked up.
“Morgan?” Tarr called sharply. “You alone?”
The sick man groaned slightly.
“Forget it,” said Jackson. “There’s nobody with him. Probably a mouse disturbed the paper. Place is full of ’em.”
“We ought to search,” the thin man said weakly.
The heavy one grinned craftily. “Let’s not, and say we did.”
The other gave a weak laugh and they left, flicking out the light.
“I’ll be back soon, Morgan,” Nancy promised. As quickly as possible she made her way out of the attic down to the third floor.
“I’ll wait in Mrs. Eldridge’s room,” Nancy decided. “When I hear the searchers come inside, I’ll sneak out to the pigeon loft.”
Softly she turned the knob and stepped into the upper hall.
A startled scream rang out.
“Oh—oh—help!” A crash of crockery froze Nancy in her tracks. The nurse’s helper was in the hallway, staring at Nancy open-mouthed, a tray of broken dishes at her feet.
Nancy darted past her and ran down the main stairs, while behind her she heard the girl shouting the alarm.
A chorus of excited voices came from the second floor, but Nancy reached the veranda without being seen. She ran along its entire length and jumped into the shrubbery, panting. Then, hoping that she would not be seen, Nancy darted across the open lawn to a clump of bushes.
A moment later her heart leaped with alarm. Somewhere nearby she heard the dog sniffing. The next instant the animal broke into frantic barking.
Heavy footsteps raced up and a blinding light focused on Nancy’s face.
“Here she is!” a deep voice shouted. “I got her, chief!”
CHAPTER XVIII
The Underground Cell
MORE running steps came closer and stopped outside the bushes.
“Come out of there!” ordered a harsh voice.
Nancy’s heart sank. The speaker was Adam Thorne! Knowing resistance was futile, she crept from the brush and stood up in the glare of a powerful flashlight. In the darkness just beyond, Nancy could hear the dog snarling and her captors breathing heavily.
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