The Whispering Statue Read online

  Bess spoke up. “We did our best. Who do you think the man was—a burglar?”

  Nancy explained that he was the man who had escaped through the front entrance of the Drew home the night Mrs. Merriam was there.

  “Since he didn’t break into the art shop, he must have a key to it,” said George. “This is proof that he’s in league with Mr. Basswood.”

  “Yes,” Nancy replied. “I’ve been sure of that ever since he broke into our house and attacked Dad. Well, girls,” she added, “let’s hope the police catch him. And don’t feel too bad about ‘losing your man.’ We got a valuable clue.”

  “We did?” Bess asked blankly.

  Nancy pointed out that the intruder had murmured the name Marco. She at once thought of M De K. “The person could be Marco De K?” the young detective said excitedly. “And if he’s tied in with the mystery of the whispering statue, Marco may know where it is. We must try to find him.”

  “Apparently,” George added, “Mr. Basswood owes Marco and this man a large sum of money.”

  “Do you suppose,” Bess suggested, “that Mr. Basswood keeps a lot of money in the shop? For instance, in that hidden room?”

  “Very likely,” Nancy replied. A moment later she added in dismay, “We’ve locked ourselves out! And that book on painters and sculptors is inside! Now I can’t check to see if M De K or a Marco De K is mentioned in it!”

  “Cheer up!” Bess urged. “Here come the police. Maybe they can open the door.”

  Two officers arrived in a car and were given the details of what had happened and also the license number of the car in which the intruder had escaped.

  “I’m Debbie Lynbrook and I work at the shop,” Nancy added.

  George spoke up. “That man didn’t get anything. By the way, he forced his way into the Drew home in River Heights. The police are still looking for him.”

  The girls gave a minute description of the man, then Nancy asked if the officers had any way of getting into the art shop. They shook their heads.

  Before the officers stepped into their car, Nancy said, “We’re staying at the yacht club. If you pick up this man, will you please call Mr. Ayer and tell him. He can pass the message on to us.” The men promised to do so and left.

  As the girls started for the taxi stand, Bess stopped abruptly. “Wait a minute!” she said. “I just had a horrible thought! Suppose that thug tells Mr. Basswood he saw us in the shop?”

  Nancy frowned. “He may, but more likely he’ll be afraid to tell because Mr. Basswood would know he was poking around the shop.”

  When the girls arrived at the yacht club, it was near lunchtime and Bess declared she was starving. “I could go for a great big steak and French fries and a chocolate fudge sundae,” she said.

  George looked at her cousin sternly. “Eat all the steak you want but no French fries or sundaes. How about substituting a big bowl of spinach and a grapefruit?” Her cousin did not reply. She merely made a face at George.

  Everyone was talking about the gas-main explosion and what damage it had done. They asked Debbie Lynbrook about the art shop and were sorry to hear that some statuary and paintings had been ruined.

  Nancy suddenly thought of the statue on the front lawn of the yacht club. “Is it all right?” she asked the people at the next table.

  “Yes,” a woman replied. “The earth tremor wasn’t felt that badly up here.”

  Mr. Basswood did not telephone Nancy to come back so the three girls put on beach clothes and wandered down to the dock. Dick was there.

  “Hi!” he said. “You’re just the people I was going to contact. Debbie and George, how about you and Ned and Burt entering the races this weekend?”

  “It would be fun,” said George, “but we don’t know whether or not the boys are coming down.”

  Nancy remarked. “If we enter, we’ll certainly need a little practice.”

  Dick suggested that the girls go out now. Bess said she would stay ashore this time. She giggled. “I don’t want to get dumped into the water again.”

  Nancy and George exchanged smiles. They knew that Bess preferred staying on land and talking to Dick, who was certainly a most attractive companion. They rowed out to Top Job and climbed in. Nancy set the sails while George handled the tiller. There was a stiff offshore breeze and Nancy began tacking.

  For a while the girls were the only sailors on the bay. Then a craft larger than theirs headed toward them at racing speed. Nancy and George thought nothing about it until suddenly they realized that the skipper was not going to give them the right of way.

  “Nancy, there’s no identification on his boat and look at him!” George cried out.

  “He’s wearing a stocking mask!” Nancy exclaimed.

  It was evident the stranger not only did not want to be recognized, but that his plan was to upset Top Job and injure the girls.

  “Hard alee!” yelled Nancy and swung the boom. She avoided the other boat by inches. Nancy still ran with the wind toward the clubhouse dock. Twice her pursuer tacked across her bow but each time she zigzagged out of his way and got back on course. Finally he gave up and headed toward the ocean.

  George heaved a sigh. “What do you make of that?”

  Nancy admitted she was puzzled. “That skipper may be someone we’ve seen. I’m sure he’s part of the gang that would like to see us quit work on one or both of our cases.”

  When the girls reached shore they told Bess and Dick what had happened. Dick said he would report the incident to the police at once. “That guy out there is a menace.”

  “Agreed,” George replied.

  Bess said that Dick had offered his car to the girls for the rest of the afternoon.

  “Terrific,” said George.

  Nancy smiled. “Thanks a lot, Dick. That’s great.”

  The girls went to their bedroom to change into street clothes. As they opened the door, the telephone was ringing. Nancy scooped it up.

  “Debbie Lynbrook?” a male voice asked. “Yes.”

  “Hello. This is Sylvester Holden. I have some interesting information for you. There is a man named Marco De Keer who makes very fine reproductions. He lives in Readville, which is about twenty-five miles from Waterford. If you can get over there, I suggest you pay him a visit.”

  “We’ll certainly do that,” Nancy said, “and thank you very much, Mr. Harry Silver.” She and Mr. Holden laughed over his pseudonym.

  When Nancy told her chums the news, George was excited and eager to meet Marco De Keer.

  Bess said she was a little scared to do so if he were a pal of Basswood’s. “And speaking of pals, I wonder if the police have caught that man who got away from George and me.”

  “I’ll find out,” said Nancy and dialed police headquarters.

  Captain Turner said he had no news to give her. “We think the man has left this area, but there is still an alarm out for his arrest.”

  The three girls finally got started for Readville. When Nancy drove into Waterford, she did not take the highway but began weaving through various streets.

  “What’s going on?” George asked. “Are you giving us a sightseeing trip of this town?”

  Nancy explained that she was trying to elude any car which might be following her. “At the moment we know that at least three people don’t trust us—Mr. Basswood, Mr. Atkin, and the man who attacked my father and came into the art shop.”

  George nodded. “And don’t forget the guy who tried to capsize us on the bay and those kidnappers.”

  After Nancy was sure no one was on her trail, she drove to the highway and headed the car toward Readville. The trip was made quickly. She learned that Marco De Keer’s studio and workshop were in an old barn on the outskirts of town.

  The front yard was filled with terra-cotta statues which stood amid high grass. Here and there a rosebush reared its head above an overgrown flower bed, and a few hollyhocks towered above the weeds.

  Nancy did not pull into the driveway but parked ac
ross the road. She chuckled. “For a quick getaway if necessary.”

  The large double doors of the barn were wide open. The girls walked in. On display were statues of many sizes, made of various materials. There were a few marble pieces and the girls wondered if these were originals from which Marco De Keer was making reproductions. The rest of the barn was cluttered and untidy.

  Bess and George decided to go outside and look at the sculptures in the yard. “Maybe we can pick up a clue for you, Nancy,” George said.

  The young detective walked through the barn and found a man in a rear room just putting on a white smock. As Nancy said, “Good afternoon,” he turned around.

  “Oh. How do you do?” he said. “You startled me. Why didn’t you ring the bell?”

  “I’m sorry,” Nancy answered. “I didn’t see one, Are you Marco De Keer?”

  “Yes. Who sent you here?”

  As Nancy was trying to make up her mind how to answer his question, she appraised the man intently. He was middle-aged and had a swarthy complexion. His dark hair was long and he wore a full beard. De Keer’s outstanding feature were his black eyes which glistened intensely.

  “He may be talented,” Nancy thought, “but I’ll bet he’s cruel and scheming.”

  Aloud she said, “I wasn’t exactly sent here. Your name was given to me by a man in New York who knows a lot about statuary. He suggested that I might find a statuette I like.” Nancy gave the man a naive smile. “I can’t afford an original marble.”

  “I see,” Mr. De Keer replied. “Well, look around, and if you see anything you like, let me know. But I warn you, my prices are high.”

  Nancy made no comment. She went back to the main part of the barn and started looking around. Presently she picked up the statuette of a monkey and turned it over. On the base were the telltale initials M De K.

  Meanwhile Bess and George had been walking around outside. Bess happened to glance down the road and saw an approaching car. The next instant she grabbed her cousin’s arm.

  “Here comes Mr. Basswood!” she cried. “We must warn Nancy!”

  CHAPTER XV

  An Abrupt Departure

  BESS was in a panic. “If we run inside, Mr. Basswood will see us!”

  “And if we don’t,” George replied, “Nancy will be trapped!”

  Bess added, “If we don’t show ourselves but call out Debbie or Nancy, he’ll be sure to hear it.”

  By this time Basswood had pulled into the driveway alongside the barn and parked in the rear. Nancy, having heard the automobile, appeared in the big doorway. Bess and George signaled to her frantically to come outside.

  The young detective hurried to her friends and asked, “What’s up?”

  Quickly George explained and Bess said, “We’d better get away from here as soon as possible!”

  “And lose the chance of obtaining a valuable bit of evidence?” Nancy asked. She turned to Bess. “Here are the car keys. Suppose you drive it around the bend out of sight. Then Mr. De Keer will think we’ve left.”

  As Bess scooted off, Nancy and George hid behind large terra-cotta statues and waited to see what would happen. In a moment the two men came from the rear into the large showroom.

  “It was a catastrophe!” Mr. Basswood was storming. “They said it was a gas-main explosion. Felt like an earthquake. I lost a lot of things and need some more statuettes.” Suddenly his mood changed and he laughed. “I want real pieces, of course.”

  Marco De Keer laughed uproariously. “You’ve come to the right place, my friend. My originals are so original nobody knows the difference!”

  George whispered to Nancy, “The cheat! Let’s go in there and confront the two of them with the truth.”

  Nancy restrained George. “I’m afraid we’d come out the losers.”

  Just then Mr. De Keer said, “A girl walked in here a little while ago looking for an inexpensive reproduction. Said somebody in New York City had told her about me.”

  Mr. Basswood looked apprehensive. “What did she look like?”

  Marco De Keer described Debbie Lynbrook exactly.

  “Where is she now?” Mr. Basswood asked. alarm showing in his voice.

  “I suppose she drove off. Anyway, her car is gone.”

  Basswood burst out, “I’m sure that’s the girl who works for me. Her name is Debbie Lynbrook. I don’t entirely trust her—not that she would steal anything, but she’s kind of nosy. I’d fire her, only she’s an excellent saleswoman. As you know, Atkin is in the hospital. He’ll be coming out pretty soon, though, and then I think I’ll get rid of the girl.”

  Nancy chuckled inwardly. Basswood did not call her Nancy Drew! He might think Debbie Lynbrook was a bit nosy, but at least he did not suspect that his employee was Nancy Drew, the young detective I

  George called softly, “Are you ready to leave? Those men may come outside at any moment.”

  Nancy nodded. She most certainly did not want to be caught and this was a good time to vanish. Dodging among statues, the two girls reached the roadway and hurried to where they were to meet Bess.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said. “I was imagining all sorts of things about your becoming prisoners of those two men. What did you find out?”

  “A good bit,” Nancy replied, “but I want to learn more. I noticed a restaurant in that house next to the barn. Why don’t we have an early dinner there and watch the barn from the window?”

  “Food. Super!” Bess said. “I vote for that.”

  She drove the car to the restaurant, turned into its driveway, and parked in the rear. There was a side entrance so the three friends entered through this door.

  The first floor of the farmhouse had been converted into a charming, old-fashioned dining room. A pleasant-faced woman, who reminded Nancy of Hannah Gruen, showed them to a table next to a window. It overlooked a low hedge between the two properties.

  “We have no printed menus,” the restaurant owner said. “Tonight we have homemade vegetable soup, baked ham or pot roast, sweet potatoes, and some of my home-canned peaches with chocolate cake for dessert. Maybe you noticed my orchards. The peaches grew right here.”

  Bess sighed. “It must be heavenly living on a farm and raising all your own produce. Do you have chickens and cows and everything?”

  The woman, who said her name was Mrs. Ziegler, beamed. “Yes, everything.”

  Nancy asked where she kept the livestock. “I see the barn near you is a sculptor’s studio.”

  Mrs. Ziegler said that the barn had not belonged to her farm. “We keep our horses and cows and chickens across the road.”

  Bess smiled at her and said, “Your baked-ham dinner sounds marvelous. I’ll have it. And you might add a glass of milk from one of your cows.”

  Nancy and George decided to have the same dinner as Bess. When the soup was served, the three girls were looking out the window. Willis Basswood and Marco De Keer were driving off together in the art dealer’s car.

  “I wonder if they’ve left for the day,” Bess spoke up.

  Mrs. Ziegler said, “I guess so. The sculptor doesn’t stay around very long.” She smiled. “He doesn’t keep farmers’ hours!”

  George asked the woman what kind of a sculptor Mr. De Keer was. “Famous?”

  Mrs. Ziegler shrugged. “Statuary isn’t one of my interests, so I’ve never paid attention to the man. He’s rather a man of mystery. Hardly anyone comes there except a trucker. I guess he brings supplies and carries away statues.”

  Mrs. Ziegler walked off and did not return until the girls had finished the vegetable soup. In the meantime they discussed the man next door.

  “So he’s a person of mystery who makes ugly statues!” George said.

  “We already know that,” Bess remarked. “Nancy, how do you plan to find out more about this suspect?”

  The young detective’s eyes sparkled. “As soon as we finish eating, I’m going back to Mr. De Keer’s place and do more investigating.”

 
; “But surely,” George said, “he must have locked the barn.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t going to trespass,” Nancy told her. “We may find some clues on the grounds around the barn.”

  Half an hour later the girls paid their checks and then strolled over to the Marco De Keer place. Most of the statues were made of terra cotta and were grotesque. Among them was a two-headed monster and a tall skinny figure with an elongated head that rose to a peak and had slanted eyes and an upturned mouth.

  “These would give me a nightmare,” Bess remarked.

  “Let’s try tipping this one over to see if it has M De K on the bottom,” Nancy suggested.

  The statue, though large, was not heavy and the girls laid the figure on its side easily. Stuck to the bottom of it was part of a torn letter.

  “How did this get here?” Bess asked.

  “My guess is,” said Nancy, “that pieces of a letter were thrown away but this scrap must have missed the basket or been blown by the wind and plastered itself to the bottom of the statues.”

  “What does it say?” George asked, walking around Nancy to read it.

  “Another puzzle,” said Bess. “What does it mean?”

  The words on the jagged piece of paper were:

  time to move

  competitors are bepicious.

  Stop work

  ble reproductions.

  phone from Pit

  soon as I look

  whispering statue

  Quickly Nancy took a notebook from her purse and copied the words in case she lost the original paper.

  “What a marvelous clue!” she exclaimed.

  CHAPTER XVI

  Unwelcome Command

  “YOUR clue is wonderful,” said Bess, “but how can you use it? The words in that torn letter don’t make any sense to me.”

  George said, “Why don’t we drive back to the yacht club? You can study it there, Nancy.”

  The young detective did not want to leave yet. “Let’s search for the rest of the letter,” she said.

  The girls turned over all the pieces of statuary but found nothing. The hedge and every bit of the ground around the barn were scrutinized carefully. No other clues were found.