Ghost Stories, #2 (Nancy Drew) Page 7

  Next morning, Nancy was in the kitchen finishing the breakfast dishes, when she heard the door of a neighboring apartment shut with a bang. She dropped

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  the dishtowel and ran to peek out the door in time to see Madame Arnette heading toward the elevator. Nancy hastily told her aunt that she was going to tail their neighbor. She slipped into the corridor and heard the elevator creaking its way to the ground floor.

  Better take the stairs, Nancy advised herself. If I wait for the elevator, she'll he gone.

  The young detective raced down and reached the door of the building in time to see Madame Arnette disappear around the corner. Quickly Nancy dodged through the crowd after her, hiding in a doorway when the witch looked back suspiciously. Madame Arnette did not see her, and Nancy resumed her surveillance when the woman went on.

  After several blocks, Madame Arnette entered a small, grimy-looking office. Stenciled on the window in gilt letters was the legend Ponsonhy Investigations.

  A bus stop in front of the window provided cover for Nancy, who mingled with the crowd waiting for the next bus. Unobtrusively, she looked through the window. She was in time to see Madame Arnette greet a large man with a beard. The witch handed him a sheet from a loose-leaf notebook. He nodded, put it in his pocket, then went to his desk and picked up several papers, which he gave to the witch. At that point, Madame Arnette wrote out a check for him, then took the documents and turned to leave.

  Quickly, Nancy ducked around the corner of the building. She watched the woman step out and go back in the direction from where she had come.

  A moment later, the bearded man who Nancy as-

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  sumed was Mr. Ponsonby, himself, emerged from the office. He locked the door behind him, then briskly walked to a yellow Ford that was parked across the street.

  I'd better follow him, Nancy thought, and looked around for a taxi. Luckily, one stopped for her just as the investigator eased his car into the traffic.

  "Could you please follow that Ford?" Nancy asked the driver and handed him a bill. "Don't let him get away!"

  The man grinned. "Fll do my best, miss," he said. "Not many drivers in this city can get ahead of me."

  Ponsonby went across Central Park to the West Side and stopped on one of the side streets.

  ''That's interesting," thought Nancy. ''He's going into a church!"

  She looked above the door for the name. It was Saint Barbara's! Now she understood why Ponsonby was there.

  After paying her driver, Nancy followed the detective inside. She was in time to see Ponsonby disappearing into the registry.

  "He's gone to check the records!" she muttered. "He won't find any Linda Brown listed there."

  Nancy was standing near the altar, beside a statue of the church's patron saint, Saint Barbara, when Ponsonby came out again. He looked puzzled.

  He'd better not see me, she thought, and ducked behind the statue of Saint Barbara.

  But her hasty movement dislodged a candle, which clattered to the floor.

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  Ponsonby turned instantly.

  Nancy froze for a moment, realizing she was trapped. Then she saw a door in the corner leading to the belltower. She dived toward it, hoping her pursuer wouldn't see her, and raced up the winding stone stairway. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming faster and faster. Finally she stumbled through the door leading to the platform around the church bell at the top of the tower. She tripped, and grabbed at the dangling bell rope to save her fall.

  As the noise of the bell reverberated through the building, Nancy heard heavy footsteps on the stairs.

  Hastily, she sneaked behind the open door and waited. Ponsonby rushed through the door, across the belltower, and looked over the parapet.

  Nancy slipped around the door, slammed it shut, and turned the key in the lock. Then she hurried downstairs and out of the church. She ran two blocks and caught the crosstown bus back to her aunt's apartment. Madame Arnette, still holding the papers Ponsonby had given her, was waiting for the elevator when Nancy arrived, but the young sleuth made sure she wasn't seen. Apparently the witch had stopped off somewhere on the way home.

  WhaVs she going to do with those documents? Nancy wondered. I think another sortie over to her place is in order.

  Five minutes later, the persistent girl detective edged herself along the ledge between the balconies and was rewarded with a glimpse of Madame Arnette in her bedroom, inserting the sheets from the detective

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  agency into her green loose-leaf notebook, which she then placed in the top drawer of the bureau.

  J het it's information on dead people —reJatives of Madame Arnette's clients, Nancy thought. If only I couJd prove itl

  "Are you through with sleuthing for today?" her aunt asked over lunch. "Bloomingdale's is having a sale. I thought we could do some shopping."

  "Good idea," Nancy said. "I don't think watching Madame Arnette is going to be any more productive at this point. I have an idea what her racket is. All I have to figure out is how to get the evidence."

  The young detective and her aunt spent a delightful, if exhausting, afternoon trying on slacks, dresses, and shoes. Then, as a special treat, they had dinner at the Russian Tea Room, Nancy's favorite New York restaurant.

  The phone rang as they were getting ready for bed. It was Ned Nickerson, Nancy's boyfriend. He was in town for a football conference and was staying at a hotel only two blocks away.

  "I'll be free by tomorrow evening," he told Nancy, "and then we can have some fun."

  Next day, while Aunt Eloise was teaching school, Nancy spent the afternoon at the Museum of Natural History.

  When she returned to her aunt's apartment, she found Madame Arnette on the doorstep, all smiles.

  "Miss Drew," the woman purred. "I have interceded with Diana on your behalf and she is willing to reach

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  your friend, Linda Brown. But she feels the aura would be strongest in the vicinity of the burial place. Would you be free to accompany me there this evening?"

  Nancy's mind was racing. She knew this must be a trap. But if she refused to go, she might never be able to prove Madame Arnette's dishonesty.

  ''Yes, of course," she told the witch. "What time would you like to start out?"

  "My car is in the garage around the corner," explained Madame Arnette. "We can leave at once."

  Nancy quickly decided to call her friend Ned for help.

  "I'll just get my purse," she told Madame Arnette and ducked into the bedroom. Hastily, she dialed Ned's hotel, holding her breath till he answered.

  "Thank goodness you're there," she said in relief, and quickly told him what was happening.

  "It will take me about five minutes to go downstairs, hop into my car, and drive over to your aunt's apartment," Ned said. "Just stall your witch long enough for me to get there." He hung up.

  Nancy went back into the living room. Aunt Eloise and Madame Arnette were talking about a Broadway play. The girl detective had read the review, and quickly launched into a lengthy description of the critic's point of view. She went on and on, until Madame Arnette became impatient. "Well, we'd better go," the woman declared. "Diana does not like to be kept waiting."

  With a pretty smile, Nancy nodded and followed the woman downstairs to a long black car with smoked

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  glass windows and a silver statuette of Diana on the hood. It suits its owner weJJ, Nancy thought. Like a modern broomstick.

  As the witch threaded her way through the traffic, Nancy tried to look back inconspicuously. Since she did not know what kind of car Ned had rented, she could not tell for sure whether the green Datsun she glimpsed now and then was her friend's. She hoped desperately that it was!

  Soon they had reached a desolate area of abandoned warehouses near the Hudson River. Nancy became frightened. The woman had not gone to
the cemetery! If Ned was not right behind them, he would never find her!

  Madame Arnette stopped the car. "Here's where we get out," she announced.

  "But you said—"

  "I am going by the aura," the witch replied. "My feeling tells me that this is the place. Come with me!"

  She led Nancy to an empty warehouse. No way I'm going in there, the girl detective said to herself. But before Madame Arnette could open the door, it was pushed out by a man who instantly grabbed the girl. He was Ponsonhy, the detective!

  Nancy screamed, fighting and kicking, but between the two of them, her enemies had her subdued in a moment.

  "So much for you, young lady!" the detective sneered. "You won't make any more trouble for us. We'll see to that!"

  "No Linda Brown was buried at Saint Barbara's,"

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  Madame Arnette put in. "We also checked on you and found out you're a detective!"

  Ponsonby tied Nancy's hands and feet with a thick rope, while Madame Arnette went on, "You've been spying on us! Well, you'll see what happens to someone who tries to trick Diana's priestess!"

  While Nancy looked on helplessly, the witch and Ponsonby grabbed laTge cannisters from a shelf near the door and poured a trail of gasoline along the walls of the rickety old building. As soon as they lighted the gas, flames shot up, licking the dry wood and gradually catching the deteriorating boards.

  The two criminals had left a large enough area around the door to insure their retreat. "You'll be a sacrifice to Diana!" Madame Arnette shouted as they hurried outside. "Good-bye, Nancy Drew!"

  A moment later, Nancy heard nothing but the crackling, burning wood around her. Feverishly, she tugged on her bonds and screamed for help. The fire was spreading fast. If no one heard her within the next few minutes, it would engulf her completely!

  Smoke was already scratching her nostrils, and tears streamed from her eyes. Her bonds, rather than giving way, cut deeper and deeper into her wrists.

  Suddenly, the door was flung open. "I'm coming, Nancy!" Ned yelled. "Hold on just one more second!"

  He whipped out his pocket knife and freed the girl, then he pulled her up. "Come on. Hurry."

  He dragged the choking girl out the door, barely escaping the fire, which had worked itself closer and closer to the frame. A moment later, part of the old

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  structure fell in with a thundering crash. Flames pierced the night sky as Ned and Nancy ran away from the inferno to Ned's rented green Datsun.

  "I got stuck in traffic!" Ned explained after they were safely in the car, and he had started the engine. "Luckily, I saw the black limousine when I came down this street. I thought that's where you had gone, but I wasn't really sure until I recognized that Diana ornament on the hood."

  Just then they heard a bell clanging in the distance. Firemen, alerted by the blaze, were rushing toward the scene.

  Ned cut the engine. "We might as well stay and tell them what happened," he said. "I just hope they believe us and don't suspect us of starting the fire."

  Nancy nodded, wiping her tears. A moment later the two were talking to the fire chief. "Nancy Drew?" he asked. "Seems I've heard that name before. Aren't you the famous girl detective?"

  "Yes," Nancy replied and rubbed her sore wrist. Then she told her story.

  "My aunt, Eloise Drew, will confirm that I left her apartment with Madame Arnette tonight," the girl concluded. "And I don't really want to alert the police until I can spring a trap on that woman. If she gets scared away, I may never be able to prove her scheme!"

  "How long do you think you'll need?" the fire chief inquired. "We have to make a report, you know."

  Nancy nodded. "I understand. But I believe that I can expose the witch if I drop in on her meeting, which should have started by now."

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  "Okay," the fire chief said. "It will take us some time to get things under control here, anyway. Good luck!"

  When Nancy and Ned returned to the apartment, Aunt Eloise told her that the coven had, indeed, assembled and that the chanting had stopped only a few moments ago.

  "Good," Nancy exclaimed. "That means Madame Arnette is going into her trance. Here's my chance!"

  She ran to the balcony door, then turned around. "Ned, please call the police and tell them to come over right away!" A moment later, she was gone. She made her way to Madame Arnette's bedroom, opened the unlocked window, and climbed in. Silently, she tiptoed to the bureau and pulled out the witch's green notebook. On the first page, she saw the entry she was looking for. "Need more information about Nancy Drew."

  Nancy quickly leafed through the rest of the ledger and realized it contained personal notes on members of the coven and their dead relatives, obviously all the result of Ponsonby's investigations.

  Nancy closed the book and turned to leave, when she noted something odd on one wall. A hole was stuffed with green, crinkled paper, the kind used for decorations. In front of it stood a lamp with a powerful electric bulb.

  The open-mouthed sphinx must be on the other side, Nancy said to herself. It produces an eerie green glow when the light is on.

  Quickly, she examined the hole and found a tube concealed in the paper. Aha, Nancy thought. Someone stands here and speaks in Diana's unearthly voice/ I'm

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  sure the members of the coven will he surprised when they see this.

  Next to the lamp on the table lay a piece of paper with this evening's script. It was hand-written on personal stationery with the name Christina Egmont in the upper left corner!

  Nancy gasped in surprise. Then she took a deep breath, and with a pounding heart, opened the door to the living room. There, the high priestess, bathed in moonlight, was in the middle of her trance act, intoning a prediction to one of the women.

  Nancy found a switch next to the door and turned on the light. Madame Arnette stared at her, open-mouthed, while the members of the coven cried out in surprise.

  The young detective held up the green notebook. She read an excerpt, consisting of Mrs. Hughes's communication with her husband at the last meeting. "This information was supplied to Madame Arnette by a detective named Ponsonby," she explained. "He and the high priestess tied me up in a warehouse earlier tonight and set it on fire. They wanted to kill me because I was on to their scheme!"

  The women sat, frozen in shock, and the head witch, no longer wrapped in moonlight and mystery, looked panic-stricken.

  "If you'll all come into the bedroom," Nancy went on, "I'll show you a hole stuffed with green paper and a lamp in front of it. Madame Arnette's neighbor, Christina Egmont, an actress, plays Diana for you at these meetings."

  Suddenly, the women came back to life. They

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  shouted furiously, some running into the bedroom to see the evidence, others crowding around Madame Arnette, accusing her of lying to them. **We want our money back!" A tall, heavyset woman cried out, "You're not going to get away with this!"

  Just then the bell rang. Nancy opened the door and admitted two police officers, followed by Ned and Aunt Eloise. To Nancy's surprise, Mrs. Egmont appeared a moment later. She had heard the commotion and had come to find out what was going on. As soon as she saw the police, however, she turned on her heels and tried to run.

  ''Stop that woman!" Nancy cried. "She's in on this scheme!"

  When one of the officers brought the actress into the room, Mrs. Egmont acted indignant. "What is this all about?" she demanded. "Why are you holding me?"

  "Because you played Diana," Nancy told her. "Your training enabled you to project your voice and sound convincing. When you were finished, you retreated to your apartment over the balcony. And to divert any suspicion from yourself, you complained to my aunt about the noises in here. Very clever!"

  "You can't prove a thing!" Mrs. Egmont snapped. "It's all conjecture."

  Nancy smiled. "It would have been if you had
n't left your script, written on your letterhead!"

  Mrs. Egmont's mouth dropped open and she did not say another word. When the police had led the two women away, the rest of the coven began to leave. Many thanked Nancy for exposing the fraud, and Mrs. Hughes gave the girl a big hug.

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  "I was such a fool," she sobbed. "I spent all my savings to be able to talk to my husband ..." Her voice trailed off.

  ''I'm sure most of the money w^ill be found in Madame Arnette's bank account," Nancy said, "and be refunded."

  "I'm glad that evil w^oman can't continue her dishonest game," Ned added. "Nancy, you did a v^onderful job!"

  An impish smile crossed Nancy's face. "I guess the moral is: be careful what you write in your notebook. It may come back to haunt you!"

  THE PHANTOM OF ROOM 513

  Pretty, titian-haired Nancy Drew clutched her right side and took a deep breath as the electronic doors of Rosemont Hospital swung open. ''Dad, don't worry," she said to Carson Drew. "I'm sure I'm fine."

  "Just the same," her father replied, "I'll feel better when the doctor says you're fine. This is no ordinary stomach ache!"

  They walked into the brightly lit emergency room. A nurse in a crisp white uniform and stiff white cap approached them. "Can I help you?" she asked Nancy, noticing the girl's pale, drawn face.

  "My side hurts," Nancy replied.

  "Follow me," the nurse said, leading them to an examining room. What's your name?"

  "Nancy Drew. This is my father, Carson Drew."

  The nurse nodded. "Mr. Drew, would you go to the front desk and fill out some papers? After that, please

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  take a seat in the waiting room. We'll call you when your daughter's been examined." Then she disappeared through a door in the back of the small room.