The Clue of the Dancing Puppet Read online

  In a few seconds the whole group was gathered at the entrance. The woman in the evening dress cried out to the men in the car, “You stole my emerald necklace!”

  The two suspects glared at her, and the driver said, “You’re crazy! We don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “You were right there at our table,” the woman went on. “All of a sudden I noticed my necklace was gone. You must have taken it!”

  One of the men who had joined in the chase said, “I’m James Burke, and this lady is my wife. If you’re innocent, you won’t object to a search.”

  “We most certainly do,” said the driver. “Nobody except the police can search us. I tell you, we don’t know anything about a necklace.”

  The man standing next to Mr. Burke introduced himself as the owner of the restaurant. “This is most regrettable, gentlemen,” he said. “But as Mr. Burke has remarked, if you are innocent, then you will not mind being searched. This puts me in a very awkward position, which I am sure you understand. I hope you will co-operate.”

  “There’s no need for us to co-operate,” said the driver icily. “We’ll show you our drivers’ licenses. I think that’s enough!”

  He pulled a wallet from his pocket, and his companion also took out one. The licenses revealed that the driver was John Terrill and his friend Sam Longman. Both were from California.

  Nancy, all this time, had been studying the men closely. The driver was slim in build and dark, while his companion, Longman, was stockier and had unruly, light-brown hair. They both looked to be about thirty-five years of age, well-to-do, and did not seem like criminals.

  Nancy wondered what would happen next and whether George would be forced to move the convertible. At that moment a car came whipping up the road and turned in. It stopped dead upon reaching the blockade.

  “Police!” Nancy thought in relief. Two officers jumped from their car and approached the group.

  “How do you do, Mr. Landow?” one of them said to the restaurant owner. “Some trouble here?”

  Quickly Mr. Landow explained what had happened. When Mrs. Burke kept insisting the two men had taken her valuable emerald necklace, the officers said they would make a search. Grudgingly the two suspects permitted this. The necklace was not found on either of them.

  “We’ll look in your car,” one of the officers said, and a thorough search was made inside the vehicle. The necklace did not come to light.

  “I hope all of you are satisfied,” said John Terrill. “You can be sure, Mr. Landow, that this not only will be the last time I patronize your restaurant, but I shall tell everyone I meet not to come here! As for you, Mrs. Burke, you ought to have your head examined for making such a scene. And now, if somebody will move that convertible out of the way, we’d like to leave.”

  The officers also looked at the men’s driving licenses, then let them go. George deftly moved the car, and the Californians rode off.

  Nancy addressed the restaurant owner. “Does a young woman named Tammi Whitlock work for you?”

  The man shook his head. “I don’t know such a person,” he replied.

  “She’s in the restaurant now,” Nancy went on.

  “Then she’s a patron,” Mr. Landow answered. He turned away and walked back to the restaurant with Mr. and Mrs. Burke.

  The police followed, saying they would make a thorough search of the restaurant to see if they could locate the stolen necklace. Nancy did not wish to intrude, but she was interested in learning when and how Mrs. Burke had missed her jewelry. The young detective ran to catch up to her.

  “Pardon me, Mrs. Burke,” she said, smiling, “but I was wondering if perhaps I might help you.” She chuckled. “I have a reputation for being able to find lost objects. I don’t mean to intrude in the police search, but would you mind telling me what happened just before you missed your necklace?”

  Nancy’s manner was so straightforward and she was so attractive-looking that no one in the group took offense at her request. Mrs. Burke stopped and said, “Well, my husband and I were seated at a table not far from the dance floor. When the singer, Chuck Grant, left the platform he came right past our table. I liked his looks and the way he sang, so I smiled at him. He stopped to chat.

  “At that moment the two men who just left here stopped at the table also. One stood in back of me and the other alongside. They began to kid Chuck Grant. He came right back at them, and the conversation went on for several seconds. Then all three left.

  “Right after that, I missed my necklace. It hadn’t fallen to the floor, so I was sure the man who stood behind me had taken it.”

  Nancy told herself that any thief who could have done this without attracting attention must indeed be amazingly adept.

  Mr. Burke added, “My wife became very excited and started running after the two men. They also started to run. I must admit it made them look guilty.” He sighed. “But you saw what happened.”

  “Where did Chuck Grant go?” Nancy asked.

  “Oh, he had walked off in another direction. I believe he was sitting at one of the tables with a young lady.”

  “Tammi!” Nancy thought. For a fleeting second she wondered if there could be any possible connection among Tammi, Chuck, and the two men. But instantly she put the idea out of her mind. It was too improbable!

  “Well, thank you for telling me,” said Nancy. “I must go now. A friend is waiting!”

  As the two girls left the grounds of the Green Acres Restaurant, Nancy told George the whole story. “Instinct tells me this journey wasn’t a complete waste of time,” she added.

  “And instinct tells me,” said George, “that in view of what happened last night on the road, we’d better roll up our windows and lock the doors.”

  “You’re right,” Nancy agreed.

  There was only moderate traffic on the road, and the girls came within view of the Van Pelt estate without interference. Nancy heaved a sigh of relief and turned into the driveway. But a moment later she jammed on her brakes. There was a roadblock of sawhorses across her path.

  “Well, for Pete’s sake!” said George.

  She was about to get out and remove the horses, which she recognized as part of the theater’s stage props when, without warning. brilliant lights were flashed into the two girls’ eyes from each side of the convertible!

  CHAPTER XI

  The Incriminating Mark

  NANCY and George blinked in the strong glare of the bright flashlights.

  “Roll down your windows!” a man’s voice ordered.

  Nancy paid no attention to the order. George too remained adamant.

  Although the girls’ eyes had not become entirely accustomed to the light, they could vaguely make out that the persons holding the flashes were masked men. Nancy was sure that the one who had spoken was trying to disguise his voice.

  “I said roll down your windows,” he warned.

  Instead of obeying, Nancy put her hand on the car’s horn. She held it down, and in the stillness of the night it reverberated loudly.

  “Stop that!” the man on her side ordered.

  Nancy paid no attention. But after she felt sure the alarm must have been heard, she took her hand off the horn. Nancy did not touch the window, but called through it, “Why did you stop us?”

  “Because we want to ask you a few questions,” the masked man replied. “You didn’t have to call for help. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Nancy waited for him to go on. He looked across the top of the car and the girls could see the other man nod. Finally the one alongside Nancy said, “Why are you girls snooping around this place?”

  He received no answer. The girls kept watching the men closely.

  “You’re cool customers,” said the masked man who was doing the talking. “But you won’t keep so cool if you stay here. I’m warning you that the Van Pelt estate is a dangerous place. The sooner you get out, the better.”

  “And if I don’t choose to go?” Nancy countered, hop
ing that help would soon be coming from the house.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet around here,” the stranger went on. “The theater, the house, and the grounds are haunted!”

  Nancy and George almost laughed. One moment the speaker sounded like a hoodlum, and the next he was talking like a frightened child about the place being haunted. There was a pause, with no one saying anything. Suddenly the girls became aware of running footsteps.

  “Help at last!” thought Nancy. She tooted her horn a couple of times.

  She and George held their breaths, wondering what the men would do. To the girls’ relief, the two intruders suddenly took to their heels and dashed down the road in the direction of River Heights. The engine of a getaway car started with a roar just as Mr. Spencer, Emmet Calhoun, and Bess arrived on the run. Nancy and George rolled down the windows.

  “Why the roadblock?” George demanded, leaning out the window.

  “Who put these here? What’s going on? Where have you been?” Mr. Spencer cried excitedly. “You girls had us scared to death.”

  “Tell you later. We were stopped by two masked men who just left here,” Nancy replied.

  “What!” Bess cried. “How frightening!”

  “It was no joke,” Nancy agreed. Briefly, she explained what had happened. “Did you set up the roadblock, Mr. Spencer?”

  “No. The men must have taken these props from the theater.”

  Bess sagged limply against the side of the car. “Oh, Nancy, George, what a narrow escape you had!” she gasped.

  Mr. Spencer and Emmet Calhoun thought they should not let the two masked men get away. They started to climb into the convertible and Mr. Spencer said, “Nancy, we’ll chase them!”

  To his surprise, Nancy did not move. With a slight smile, she said, “This time I picked up a clue. I know who one of the men is.”

  The others looked at her in astonishment. George asked, “How could you? They were masked.”

  “Did you recognize his voice?” Mr. Spencer questioned.

  Nancy shook her head. “George and I had a little adventure up at the Green Acres Restaurant—tell you all about it later. But the important thing is, two men suspected of being thieves were stopped there and searched. They were allowed to go because a stolen necklace was not found on them.”

  “Yes, yes, go on,” Bess pleaded.

  “One of those men,” Nancy. continued, “had an unusual scar just above his right wrist.”

  George blinked and asked, “And you mean to say the masked man who was standing alongside you here had a peculiar scar above his right wrist?”

  “I certainly do,” Nancy answered. “His name is John Terrill. He’s from California and the police have this data.”

  “Nancy Drew, you’re an absolute whiz,” said Bess.

  The two men looked at her admiringly and praised her fine sleuthing. Nancy felt sure that in some way John Terrill was connected with the mystery at the Van Pelt estate. But she said nothing, not knowing whether or not Emmet Calhoun knew of the mystery of the dancing puppet.

  “I’d like to phone Chief McGinnis at once,” Nancy said.

  Mr. Spencer and Emmet Calhoun removed the sawhorses and carried them inside the theater. In the meantime, Nancy drove to the house. She asked George to park the car while she made the phone call.

  “Chief McGinnis,” she said, when he came on the line, “have you a few minutes to talk to me?”

  Receiving an affirmative reply, Nancy related the whole story—from the time she had seen Terrill and Longman run out of the restaurant to the moment the holdup men had dashed away in a car from the Van Pelt estate, On purpose, Nancy said nothing about Tammi or Chuck Grant, the singer. She would pursue that little mystery on her own!

  “It looks,” Chief McGinnis remarked, “as if those men were determined to keep you from interfering in anything further they may want to do. I’ll alert my men to keep an eye out for Terrill and Longman. They could possibly be the same elusive fellows who’ve pulled similar daring jewel thefts lately in this area. You say the local police searched the restaurant and grounds thoroughly?”

  Nancy said she did not know that exactly, but she was sure the men had not thrown the necklace any place outdoors. “I was watching from the instant they came out the door. The police had not yet searched the inside of the restaurant when I left. Maybe they found Mrs. Burke’s necklace afterward.”

  Chief McGinnis asked Nancy to hold the phone a moment. He himself went to another line and called the police in the town nearest the Green Acres Restaurant. The report came back that the necklace had not been located on the floor or among the linen tablecloths and napkins used that evening at the restaurant. The Burkes had finally gone home, saying they would report the loss to their insurance company.

  “Nancy, that was a very good night’s work on your part,” said Chief McGinnis. “And now I have something amazing to tell you. I was talking to Joe, the garageman, about the car which we think rammed yours.”

  “You mean the one driven by Owen Whipley?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes,” the officer answered. “But what do you make of this? Owen Whipley, according to Joe, has a peculiarly shaped scar just above his right wrist!”

  Nancy was thunderstruck. “Really? Is it something like the shape of a crawling snake?”

  “Exactly. I don’t have to tell you, Nancy, that Owen Whipley and John Terrill probably are one and the same person.”

  “Do you think,” Nancy asked, “that John Terrill is his right name, or is it Owen Whipley?”

  Chief McGinnis said it was too early in the case to determine this. “Both might be aliases, and the man might even be using forged licenses.”

  “And what about his friend Sam Longman?” Nancy queried.

  “I wonder myself. It’s a mix-up all right,” the chief admitted. “Call me again any time, day or night, if you pick up another clue.”

  Nancy promised to do this. By now Bess and George had come into the house. Babble and excitement started all over again. Margo Spencer arrived from upstairs in robe and slippers to hear what had happened. Bess and George fixed a snack for everyone, while Nancy retold her story.

  As soon as they had finished eating, she escaped to her room, weary and full of questions. When puzzled, Nancy liked to stretch out on the bed in the darkness and think things through. Right now she was extremely curious about Terrill, or Whipley, whichever his name was. Why was he interested in trying to get her away from the Van Pelt estate?

  Before she had a chance to start undressing, there was a tap on her door.

  “Nancy?” She recognized Mr. Spencer’s voice.

  Nancy opened the door. In a whisper, the actor said, “I’m going outside and watch for the dancing puppet. I have a feeling she’ll show up again tonight. If she does, I’d like to let you know so you can be there.”

  “But she’ll be gone by the time you warn me,” Nancy objected.

  Mr. Spencer grinned. Reddening slightly, he said, “I’ve rigged up a bell system from the kitchen to your room.” He pointed to a crude arrangement on the bedside table.

  Nancy chuckled. “You think of everything. Yes, I’d like to be notified if you see the dancing puppet. I’ll sleep with my ears wide open!”

  Mr. Spencer said good night and went off. Nancy closed the door and soon was ready for bed in shortie pajamas. As she turned out the light and rolled up the window shade, the young sleuth thought, “The moon will be up late tonight, but it’s a perfect setting for a ghostly performance.”

  At that moment there was another knock on her door, and Bess came in. “I know you must be dreadfully tired,” she said. “But I can’t resist telling you something. In the show tonight, Tammi pulled another one of her overdone love scenes with Bob Simpson. And that’s not all. He left the theater as soon as possible and literally ran toward his dressing room in the house. Tammi dashed after him. I had gone on ahead and saw this, so I hid behind a bush and watched. She said something to him—I co
uldn’t hear what it was—but he started running faster than ever, and called over his shoulder, ‘Don’t be silly!’ ”

  Nancy burst out laughing. “I hate to say it, but it served Tammi right.” Then she became serious. “Tammi had quite an evening, first being ditched by Bob, then finding a man in her car whom she acted surprised to see and apparently had to go off with.”

  “This place is full of surprises,” said Bess, yawning. “Just now I came past Emmet Calhoun’s room. The door’s open. He isn’t there, and his bed isn’t turned down!”

  Nancy was amazed to hear this. “It’s a funny time of night for him to be going off,” she said thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, he wasn’t with us in the kitchen when we were having a snack. Where could he have gone? He doesn’t have a car.”

  “Search me,” Bess said. “Well, good night.”

  When Nancy finally settled down, she thought she would go over the chain of events in the mystery. But sleep overcame her immediately. She was deep in slumber when her subconscious mind became aware of a tinkling sound.

  The newly rigged bell on her bedside table was ringing insistently!

  CHAPTER XII

  Puppet Snatcher

  IN A MOMENT Nancy was wide awake. Thinking it best not to turn on the bedroom light, she felt for the chair near the window on which she had laid the dress she had worn that evening and pulled it over her head.

  As she stepped into loafers, Nancy gazed out the window. Her heart began to beat faster.

  In the center of the lawn, a life-size puppet in ballet costume was jerkily dancing across the grass!

  To Nancy’s amazement, a flashlight was trained on the figure. The light came from some bushes along the driveway leading into the estate. Nancy could not see the person holding the light.

  “I must hurry!” she told herself, and although it took only a few seconds to zip up her dress, it seemed like an hour to the excited young detective. She grabbed her own flashlight and dashed along the hallway toward the rear stairs.

  “Cally old boy isn’t in yet,” she told herself, noting that his door was still open and the bed-covers still in place.