The Eskimo's Secret Page 2

  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 hyp-notizing.

  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 under-stand.”

  “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 th
e 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 lired! 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.

  “Who are you and what do you think you’re doing eavesdropping outside my office?” Clement Steele demanded, his eyes blazing with fury.

  4. Several Suspects

  “I’m Nancy Drew, Mr. Steele,” Nancy said, holding herself very still and straight so he wouldn’t know she was a bit frightened of him.

  “Nancy, my dear girl, I should have recognized you from Alana’s photos. I’m sorry. Do come in, please.”

  Nancy stepped into his office with relief, glad of an opportunity to talk to Alana’s uncle in private. His overly friendly greeting rather surprised her, as did the frown he turned her way after she was seated in front of his desk.

  “What brings you to Victoria, Nancy?” he asked.

  “Alana’s call,” Nancy answered.

  “Has she called you again?” Mr. Steele sat forward, his body tense.

  “Not since I talked to you,” Nancy admitted, “but as I told you, she begged me to come here and help her. When I couldn’t reach her again, I decided I had to come in person and try to find out what was wrong.”

  Mr. Steele sighed and leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking much older and wearier than he had a moment before. “I hope you don’t regret your decision,” he said.

  “Regret it?” Nancy frowned. “Why should I? I don’t understand.”

  “Alana isn’t here,” he explained. “I have no idea where she is.”

  “When I went by your home the housekeeper told me that Alana left on a trip,” Nancy told him, watching him closely.

  Mr. Steele winced. “She did leave yesterday,” he stated emphatically.

  “After she talked to me—and without taking any luggage,” Nancy added.

  “I asked Mrs. Dentley to lie,” Mr. Steele ad-mitted. “The authorities have been asking a lot of questions about Alana and so have the reporters. They seem determined to make some sort of connection between Alana’s departure and the theft. I’m hoping that the statement that she left before the theft will force them to look elsewhere for a suspect.”

  “You’re just trying to protect her?” Nancy couldn’t help being skeptical after having overheard the argument between him and Tod Harper.

  “Until I can find out where she is and why she left, I’ve got to do something.” Although his concern seemed genuine, Nancy had a strong feeling he was not being completely truthful.

  “What about the theft?” Nancy asked. “Have the authorities told you anything about it?”

  Mr. Steele was on his feet at once. “They ask a lot of questions, but they don’t answer many,” he said grimly.

  “Was the Tundra the only thing taken?” Nancy wasn’t sure what approach to take in her questioning.

  “A masterpiece beyond compare. The most exciting exhibit I’ve ever been offered and now it’s gone. The theft will ruin me, whether or not I’m cleared of suspicion. Who’d want to trust anything to my gallery after this?”

  “When the thieves are caught—” Nancy began, but Mr. Steele was already on his way to the door.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you any further, Nancy,” he said, “but I really have no idea where she is. I will call you if I hear anything.” Reluctantly, Nancy got to her feet and left the office. She looked around hoping for inspiration, but no new path of investigation opened in the quiet hall, so she headed back the way she’d come. Since she was curious about the rest of the pieces that were to be displayed with the Tundra, she turned down a side hall. As she hoped, it led directly to the showroom.

  Natural light from the gallery windows spilled over the room. The central enclosed pedestal was empty, but the other displays were intriguing. Nancy crossed to the first one.

  “They really aren’t much without the Tundra,” a slightly familiar voice said.

  Nancy whirled to see Tod Harper standing near a collection of polar bear carvings. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “I could ask you the same question,” he replied with a slight grin, “but the truth is, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “How did you know I’d come in here?” “Alana told me how interested you are in mysteries and I figured you couldn’t resist this one
.” The grin became engaging, warming his blue eyes and making him a very attractive young man. “You did come, Nancy Drew.” Nancy giggled, a little embarrassed by her own suspicions. “So I did,” she admitted. Why did you want to see me?”

  “To ask you to help Alana. That is why you’re here, isn’t it? You won’t let Clement Steele send you away?” The grin was gone. “He’s hiding something and it could hurt Alana.”

  “How did you know who I am?” Nancy asked, suddenly aware she’d learned his identity by eavesdropping and wondering if he might have done the same thing.

  “Alana has a couple of pictures of you,” Tod answered, “and she talks about you quite a bit. Besides, I’ve read about you in the papers when you’ve solved mysteries for people.” He sighed. “I just want you to solve this one.”

  “What do you know about Alana’s disappear-ance?” Nancy asked, accepting his explanation.

  “Nothing. We had a date the night before last, but it was just ordinary—dinner and a movie. I’ve gone over the whole evening in my mind a hundred times.” He sighed. “I called her yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t reach her. I didn’t realize she was missing until the authorities started asking me a lot of questions about her.” “Then you have no idea where she could have gone?” Nancy asked, frustrated at not getting any useful information.

  “None whatsoever. Do you?”

  After a moment of consideration, Nancy told Tod about the phone calls, including Alana’s plea for help. He looked as disturbed as she felt. "She was worried about something before the theft,” Nancy finished, “and she was frantic afterward.”

  “Then you think the two things are connected?” Tod didn’t sound happy about the idea.

  “I think they must be,” Nancy said. “But I’m sure Alana didn’t steal the sculpture.”

  “So am I.”

  “What can you tell me about the sculpture?” Nancy asked. “And about the owner?”

  “Almost nothing,” Tod replied. “I mean, I can tell you about the carvings themselves, that sort of thing, but that’s not what you want, is it?” Nancy shook her head. “What I . . . ” She stopped speaking when Tod stiffened. She turned to follow his gaze and saw that Mr. Steele was standing in the doorway behind her.