The Moonstone Castle Mystery Read online

  “Nancy, I found an envelope here this morning. The address looked so strange I thought I’d better keep the letter and hand it to you myself.” She gave it to Nancy, then went off.

  Nancy’s name was spelled out in letters cut from newspaper words. Tied to the envelope was a small, dark-green box.

  Remembering the package which contained the moonstone, Nancy quickly tore open the envelope and pulled out a note. It also was made from newspaper words. The message read:PLEASE RETURN MOONSTONE. NOW I AM IN DANGER AS WELL AS YOU. LEAVE IT IN THIS BOX TONIGHT UNDER THE RHODODENDRON BUSH AT THE FOOT OF THE MOTEL DRIVEWAY.

  It was signed “The Well-Wisher.”

  Nancy showed the note to her friends, who gasped in astonishment. As the three girls walked away, Nancy said, “We’ll leave the box tonight, but not the moonstone, and we’ll be on watch to see who comes!”

  CHAPTER XIX

  A Cry for Help

  AS Bess peered at the strange note which Nancy had received, she said, “More than one person may come to get the moonstone back. And if they’re husky men, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  George looked at her cousin disdainfully. “Why not? We’re not weaklings!”

  “They might be armed,” Bess cautioned.

  Nancy thought only one person would appear. “I have an idea someone in the gang took the moonstone and sent it to me. We know now it actually belongs to Raspin, and I think he has ordered the person who sent the stone to get it back quickly.”

  “In any case, Nancy, you have stolen property,” Bess said. “The quicker you get rid of it the better!”

  Nancy agreed that the rightful owner should have the moonstone back, but thought Raspin should put in a claim for it himself.

  “He wouldn’t dare do that!” said Bess.

  “Exactly,” Nancy replied. “Therefore, we’ll know that whoever comes tonight is in some way connected with Raspin.”

  George remarked that there was one fact still unexplained—why did this mysterious person call himself “The Well-Wisher”? “That doesn’t sound like one of the gang—rather a person who is on your side.”

  “I admit it’s all very contradictory,” said Nancy. “Let’s hope we get the answers tonight.”

  The girls climbed into the convertible and went to police headquarters. Fortunately, Chief Burke was there and they were ushered into his office at once. As Nancy completed her story, the officer’s eyebrows lifted in amazement.

  “It certainly sounds as if you’ve stumbled onto a big fraud,” he said.

  “It may be bigger than we think,” Nancy went on. “There are similarities to the way poor Mrs. Wilson is being treated and the way Mrs. Horton was some fifteen years ago.”

  “That’s right,” the chief said. “Do you think these servants are up to a racket that they’ve been pulling for some time?”

  “It looks that way,” Nancy replied.

  On purpose Nancy refrained from saying anything about Joanie Horton—that was still her father’s case.

  The officer said he would send two squad cars out to Mrs. Wilson’s home at once. “I’ll include a doctor because she may need medical attention.”

  Nancy asked, “May we go along?”

  Chief Burke smiled. “I can’t blame you for wanting to see this case through, but I don’t want you to get hurt. Suppose you trail the police cars but stay in the background.”

  He went on to say that his men would confront the Omans with what Nancy had told him and he hoped for a confession from the couple. “Actually we have no conclusive evidence on which to arrest them, but maybe we can get some.”

  Nancy was glad that the two squad cars drove to Mrs. Wilson’s without using sirens or giving any other warning of their approach. She followed in her convertible. When the two dark sedans parked in the driveway, out of sight of the house, she stopped behind them.

  In a short time the police had surrounded the old house. Tensely the three girls watched from behind the big trees along the driveway. A plainclothesman went to the front door and lifted the knocker.

  There was no answer. But suddenly the anxious group heard a faint cry for help!

  “That must have been from Mrs. Wilson!” said Bess, clutching Nancy’s arm.

  A few seconds later a loud order came from an upstairs room, “Be quiet and sign this!”

  A woman’s scream followed and another cry for help. Again the plainclothesman pounded loudly on the door, demanding, “Open up! Police!”

  When there was no response to further commands, two other policemen and the doctor joined the plainclothesman. Together, they broke down the door with their shoulders. The men swarmed into the house.

  The girls waited anxiously. “What do you suppose is happening in there?” Bess asked.

  Nancy and George did not answer her. They were listening for further sounds from the house. Fully five minutes went by, and still they heard nothing.

  Then the plainclothesman reappeared. “You can come in now,” he called to the girls.

  He led the way into the hall and up the front stairway. The detective indicated an open bedroom. Nancy and her friends entered.

  “You!” a handcuffed man cried out. He was the person who had posed as Mr. Seaman. He glared malevolently at Nancy.

  The young sleuth ignored him and gazed at the two women in the room. One, evidently Mrs. Oman, was also handcuffed.

  On a large, old-fashioned bed lay an emaciated-looking elderly woman. The doctor sat beside her.

  “This is Mrs. Wilson,” he said, and told her, “These are the girls who saved your life.”

  The woman smiled wanly and said in a weak voice, “I thank you. And I am glad these wicked servants have been caught.”

  The doctor said Mrs. Wilson would be removed to a hospital and with proper food and good care would be all right. The police, meanwhile, had been examining things in the room. They had found an open checkbook on a New York City bank.

  “Six of these checks have been filled in—all for large amounts,” said the officer in charge. “They are made out to various people with notations on the stubs to indicate purchases like antiques and a garden tractor which Mrs. Wilson says she has not purchased.”

  “These dreadful people were trying to make me sign these checks,” the patient spoke up, almost in a whisper. “They plan to forge endorsement signatures and steal the money.”

  The detective asked Mrs. Wilson how she happened to have such a sizable account by mail in one bank.

  “The Omans forced me to move my accounts from various savings banks,” she answered. “They deposited them in one checking account and all checks were drawn from that.”

  The doctor gently patted the woman’s hands. “Don’t try to tell any more now,” he said. “The police have enough evidence to take Mr. and Mrs. Oman to jail. When you feel better, you can testify against them.”

  Nancy and her friends said good-by to Mrs. Wilson, expressing the wish that soon she would recover from her ordeal. She smiled at them gratefully. “When I am feeling better, please come to see me. I want to thank you properly for all you have done.”

  The girls promised to do this, then left the room. They learned from the plainclothesman that the police would occupy the house and patrol the grounds to catch Rudy Raspin if he should return.

  “He’s supposed to arrive tomorrow,” Nancy told the detective, “but I hope you won’t have to wait that long.”

  The officers congratulated Nancy, Bess, and George for their work. The girls smiled in embarrassment, then went to the convertible.

  “I wish we could find that awful Rudy Raspin,” said Bess.

  “So do I,” Nancy agreed. “But right now our job is to find out who sent me the moonstone.”

  That evening the three girls left the little green box under the rhododendron bush at the foot of the motel driveway. Then they hid at various nearby points, with Nancy closest to the bush.

  “We’d better keep still. No talking,” she called to th
e others. There was silence, except for the passing traffic.

  It grew darker and darker. No one came to the rhododendron bush. An hour went by and the girls began to fidget.

  Cars sped by in both directions and occasionally entered the motel driveway. But no one stopped near the rhododendron bush.

  “Maybe the whole thing was a hoax,” George thought.

  Nancy had just begun to wonder whether the person who had written the note had changed his mind about coming, when a car speeding toward her pulled way over to the side of the road and slowed down. It stopped a short distance from the rhododendron bush.

  The three girls tensed. They watched excitedly as the woman driver alighted. She walked forward quickly. No one else was in the car. As she reached the rhododendron bush, the stranger dropped to her knees and started feeling around underneath it.

  Nancy got ready to spring forward. The moment the woman picked up the box and rose to a standing position, Nancy jumped forward and beamed her flashlight straight into her face. The next instant the young sleuth stepped back in amazement and cried out:

  “Celia Smith!”

  At once the woman knocked the flashlight from Nancy’s hand, gave the girl a shove that pushed her to the ground, then ran toward her car!

  CHAPTER XX

  Wolf’s-Eye Surprise

  INSTANTLY Bess and George darted from their hiding places and grabbed the woman. She was surprised and fought them violently. But they pinned her arms back and held her tightly until Nancy could stand up, grab her flashlight, and come forward. This time she turned the light on herself.

  “Nancy Drew!” the woman cried out.

  Bess and George were astounded. “Do you know each other?” George asked.

  “Yes,” Nancy said quietly. “Celia was a day maid for my Aunt Eloise Drew in New York for many years—in fact, until she married.”

  “Oh, Nancy, I’m so sorry I hit you,” Celia Smith wailed. “I had no idea it was you speaking. When I sent you that moonstone, I was trying to save you from that dreadful gang. They’re really after you! My husband is getting more and more desperate. He’ll stop at nothing!”

  “Who is your husband?” Nancy asked.

  “Rudy Raspin.”

  “So that’s why he looked vaguely familiar to me,” the young sleuth said. “You once showed me a photograph of your fiancé but you never told me his name.”

  The girls now learned that Celia had been very unhappy since her marriage five years before. “Rudy’s cruel and ruthless, but I was afraid to leave him. I learned what he and his friends are up to. He always said if I got him in trouble, he’d kill me!”

  “You poor woman!” Nancy said sympathetically. “What is this racket?”

  Celia replied that there were several couples in the group. One couple would talk a wealthy, usually elderly woman who had no relatives to look after her, into employing them as servants. “They always insisted that any other servants leave before their arrival. In this way the new employees never could be identified. The main idea was to rob the woman of as much as possible.”

  “And in some cases starve them to death!” said George.

  Celia Smith looked at the girl in alarm. “Is that true?” she asked. “I’m sure my husband never resorted to that. But,” she said, “the gang told me very little. They didn’t trust me. Most of what I know I overheard. The gang threatened me a great deal—they were afraid, I guess, that I might go to the police.”

  “How long has this racket been going on?” Nancy asked.

  “Oh, a long time.”

  “Was the first victim Mrs. Horton?” Nancy inquired.

  Celia Smith nodded. “That happened long before I married Rudy, but I found out about it. The Omans went there as servants. They learned that Mrs. Horton’s little granddaughter was being brought there by her other grandparents who were going to Africa. During the missionaries’ short stay, the Omans were absent. They claimed that they were attending their daughter’s wedding in New York.

  “Clara Oman found out that Mrs. Horton was Joanie’s only living relative outside of her maternal grandparents, so they planned that whole horrible kidnaping. It was carried out at the time of Mrs. Horton’s death. They gave the poor little girl a sedative to put her to sleep, then took her to the adoption society office and left her.”

  “Where is Joanie Horton now?” Bess asked.

  “I don’t know. And I’m sure my husband and the other members of the gang don’t, either. I did find this out, though—they kept track of what happened to Mr. and Mrs. Bowen. When they returned from Africa and came here, Ben shadowed them. When they asked your father to take the case, Rudy was determined that Mr. Drew was not going to learn the truth. Next, he found out from eavesdropping at your River Heights home that you girls were coming here to do some sleuthing. You have been in danger ever since.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Bess.

  “I took my husband’s moonstone,” Celia went on, “—he had brought it from Ceylon years ago and prizes it highly. I sent the stone to you, Nancy, with the note. You are so smart, I thought you would find out sooner or later the significance of moonstone and Moonstone Valley.”

  Nancy said that it had taken her a long time to put the clues together and there were many questions still unanswered. “One of them is, where does the castle fit into the puzzle?”

  “All I know it that they used it as a meeting place.”

  Suddenly Celia bit her lip and said with determination, “I’m never going back to Rudy Raspin! I don’t care what happens to me—he is a wicked person, and I’m glad he has been found out. I’m sorry, Nancy, that I ever got mixed up in this racket. I should have gone to the police long ago.”

  “Suppose you tell me,” said Nancy, “where they can find your husband.”

  Celia answered without hesitation. “We work for a senile, well-to-do old man, Mr. Horace Boise, in the next town, Pleasantville.”

  Nancy invited Celia to come to the girls’ room in the motel and talk further. “I’ll go to your car with you and we’ll drive it up to the motel’s parking lot,” she said. To George she murmured, “Call the police and tell them where they can find Raspin.”

  Ten minutes later Celia and the three girls met in the bedroom. Although Mrs. Raspin was teary-eyed, she looked relieved that at last she had followed her conscience. In answer to questions from Nancy, she revealed that it was her husband who had been chased from the Drew home by Detective Donnelly. He had hoped to break into the house and look for any papers on the Horton matter that might incriminate him.

  Raspin also phoned Mr. and Mrs. Bowen in an attempt to keep Nancy from going to Deep River.

  Oman had posed as Mr. Seaman and given a phony address to keep people from knowing where he worked. He had convinced Mrs. Horton that her money would be safer in one large city bank, and her securities in a home safe, so she had transferred all her funds.

  Mrs. Oman had forged two notes in Grandmother Horton’s handwriting. One gave a New York City address as that of her granddaughter. The other requested the private funeral. The note to Mr. Wheeler was genuine, but the papers used by the fake Joan were forged by her mother.

  Suggs had signaled messages to the Omans about visitors to the castle and when the police had made their inspection trips. He had also flooded the moat to keep visitors from the castle, but had not seen Nancy and George anchor the drawbridge and thought it was out of order.

  “Have you any idea who took my car from the motel parking lot?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes. Clara Oman did that too. She and my husband were the ones who kidnaped Mr. Wheeler. And it was Rudy who sent the note to Mrs. Hemstead telling her you were using an assumed name. That was meant to scare you out of town. He tried to run down you and your friends in a boat, too.”

  About an hour later word came that the police of Pleasantville had taken Rudy Raspin into custody. He would be brought to Deep River the next day. Celia, nearly overcome by the whole affair, was put to bed at
the motel. Nancy stayed with her, partly to care for the distraught woman, and partly to be sure she did not run away. Nancy knew the police would want to question her. In the morning two officers appeared and took Celia Raspin with them.

  She had barely left when Nancy’s father arrived with Mr. and Mrs. Bowen. They were overjoyed to hear the good news.

  “We are glad our granddaughter is happy,” said Mrs. Bowen. “And if the Armstrongs agree, we’d like to talk with her.”

  Mr. Bowen spoke up. “My wife and I have decided to go back to Africa as missionaries. We want so much to help underprivileged people.”

  “The Bowens have asked me,” said Mr. Drew, “what I advise. I strongly believe that Joanie should know the whole story and that we should retrieve her stolen inheritance.”

  The lawyer went on to say that through the postcard clue he had located the Omans’ daughter Claire in California. “She admitted using phony and forged papers to impersonate Joanie. Claire claims she has none of the inheritance left but she didn’t sound very sincere. I asked her a few leading questions and I’m inclined to think her parents have retained the bulk of the money.”

  Bess groaned. “But if they have it hidden away, they’ll never tell where it is.”

  Suddenly Nancy’s eyes sparkled. “I have a hunch as to why the Omans and the rest of the the thieves were using the abandoned castle! To hide something! Girls, it’s perfectly safe out there now. Let’s go and make a real search!”

  She asked her father if he wished to go along. Mr. Drew smiled but shook his head. “I must see the Armstrongs,” he said. “You girls make your search and I’ll let you know later today what the rest of our plans will be.”

  Excitedly the three girls set off in the convertible. On the way to the castle they discussed what would be the most likely hiding place for thieves to use.

  “I’m sure it’s the cellar,” said Nancy. “You remember the only time we were warned away from the castle was when George and I swam over and started for the cellar.”