Race Against Time Page 9

  Lights were glowing from the windows of the old house, and most of the film club members were already on hand as Nancy and Ned drew up in front. The place was soon busding with activity.

  In the scene to be filmed, Nancy, her fiance, and the elderly doctor were to rush out of the mansion with a lantern after glimpsing a weird face peering in at them. At first, they would only see a bat fluttering among the trees.

  Then the script called for Nancy, who had wandered off a little way from the others, to notice a figure beckoning to her just beyond the aura of light from the mansion's windows. Mistaking the figure for that of her fiance, she would run toward it, only to find herself face to face with the vampire!

  Ned—marvelously made up with slicked-back hair, a black cape, and fangs—was to play the vampire. There was a brief run-through of the action, and the lights were carefully arranged. Then the filming of the scene began.

  The club members held their breath in suspense. Everything seemed to be going perfectly! Jane Logan kept the camera trained on Nancy as she started toward the beckoning figure.

  Suddenly, a flash of light blazed out from among the trees, bathing the night in dazzling brilliance! Nancy stopped short in confusion, almost blinded by the flash.

  Angry shouts and groans arose from the club members. "Who would pull a trick like that?" Jack Billings demanded indignantly.

  "Maybe the same two jokers who spied on us yesterday," Mike Jordan suggested. He and the other young men darted to hunt for the perpetrators. They soon gave up, however, realizing that it was hopeless in the darkness.

  Ned was as angry as the others, but felt they should go on filming. "Maybe we can salvage most of the footage."

  "What if those nuts do the same thing all over again and spoil another take?" Sara asked anxiously.

  Ned gave a helpless shrug. "We'll just have to take our chances, I guess. Otherwise we may as well give up for the night."

  Once again, filming got underway with Jack holding out a mike on a boom and Jane Logan operating the camera. Nancy resumed her actions from the point at which the scene had been interrupted.

  But as she ran toward the beckoning figure with an eager cry, loud mocking voices blared out from the woods all around them!

  15. Spook Trap

  The scene was ruined, and the club members were furious.

  "Lets get those rats!" Jack Billings exclaimed.

  "Well need more light than this," Ned warned. "We haven't much hope offinding them in the dark."

  Hastily snatching up what flashlights were available, the whole group spread out into the woods, hoping to catch at least one of their tormentors. No lurking figures showed up in their flashlight beams.

  Every now and then another taunting voice would jeer at them from the darkness. But always, it seemed just out of reach.

  Ned heaved an angry sigh of frustration. "Oh, what's the use? This game of hide-and-seek could go on all night!"

  Nancy said, "Wait, Ned! Shhhr The two had just made a mad rush to a spot where a voice seemed to be coming from, but had found no one.

  They had a single flashlight between them. Only leafy underbrush and the tree trunks all around them were visible in its glow.

  "Did you hear^something?" Ned asked, lowering his voice.

  "No, but I'm sure we made no mistake about the direction of that voice we heard," Nancy replied with a puzzled frown. "There must be someone or something concealed around here, Ned!"

  They stood silently for a while, listening. Ned swung his flashlight beam here and there, probing the darkness. Their wait seemed useless, and they were just about to move on when a shrill voice came from the shrubbery at their side.

  Whirling, Ned aimed his light into the foliage.

  "Look!" Nancy gasped.

  There, hidden among the leaves, was a walkie-talkie radio propped among the branches of the shrubbery! Another loud jeer blared from the device as they stood looking at it.

  "No wonder we couldn't catch anyone," Ned said angrily, reaching for the walkie-talkie.

  "Wait, don't move it!" Nancy said urgently, "I've a plan." Looking around, she added, "Ned, could we remember this spot well enough to find it again?"

  "Sure, I guess so. But why?"

  "Come on, let's get the others! Ill tell you on the way." As they headed back toward the house, Nancy went on, "Where do you suppose whoever's doing this is broadcasting from?"

  "Who knows? Probably somewhere in the woods close enough to see us. But they could be a mile away. It all depends on how powerful their sets are.

  "So we might be wasting our time searching around here," Nancy pointed out.

  The two stopped near the mansion and called out to the others. Ned also waved his flashlight to catch their attention. Singly and in pairs, the rest of the club came walking back empty-handed and frustrated. Ned told them what he and Nancy had found.

  "Ooh, Td like to get my hands on those wise guys," Mike said. "Id teach them a lesson!"

  Nancy said, "They've been clever. But we'll fool them. Let's pack up our equipment and drive away."

  "You mean just give up?" Denise said. Other voices were raised in protest and disbelief.

  "I don't mean leave for good," Nancy explained. "I just mean drive far enough away to make them think weVe gone for the night."

  She pointed out that walkie-talkie sets were expensive, and that the hoaxers must have placed several around the mansion. "Surely, they won't go off and leave them," Nancy reasoned. "So we'll sneak back on foot and catch them red-handed when they come to collect their sets."

  The film club greeted her plan with a show of enthusiasm. They packed away their equipment and turned off all the lights in the mansion. Then Ned locked up the place. Piling into their cars, they deliberately slammed the doors noisily and started the engines with a roar, hoping to be heard by the hoaxers. But they drove only to the edge of the forest, where the entrance lane branched off from the North Road.

  Parking quietly out of sight by the roadside, they took their flashlights and hurried stealthily back to the mansion.

  "Spread out!" Ned hissed to the others. "And try not to be seen!"

  He and Nancy retraced their steps toward the spot where they had found the walkie-talkie and crouched down in a clump of underbrush nearby.

  Several minutes passed. Nothing was heard except the gentle sighing of tree branches in the evening breeze, the occasional call of a night bird, and the chirping of crickets. But presently, footsteps were approaching through the woods.

  "Here they come!" Nancy whispered, clutching Ned's arm.

  A voice spoke in the darkness. "All clear?"

  "Sure, the house is dark," another voice said. "They've gone."

  "Okay, the funs over, I guess." A third speaker chuckled. "Lets get our walkie-talkies and leave. I bet we really had em tearing their hair!"

  In a moment, a darkened figure appeared through the trees, coming toward the spot where Ned and Nancy were hiding. He switched on a flashlight and shone it down among the shrubbery, looking for his walkie-talkie. As he bent down to pick up his set, Ned sprang out of the underbrush and grabbed him in one swift movement!

  "Hey!" the searcher blurted in a terrified voice. But instead of releasing him, Ned twisted his arm behind his back so he could not get away.

  Nancy shone the light on his face. It was the spotty-faced youth that she had seen talking to Gwen Jethro and Lenny Arthur on the street near Westmoor University.

  "Ned," Nancy cried, "he's from Burnside Tech! I

  remember him from the dance. He's in their film club!"

  Meanwhile, the two other Burnside Tech students had been caught by the rest of the Westmoor group. One of them sheepishly admitted that he had been the intruder who slid down the porch roof. The spotty-faced youth, whose name was Cliff, had been with him.

  "Gwen and Lenny told us what your film was about," Cliff confessed, "so we decided to find out if it was as good as it sounded."

  "And maybe keep u
s from finishing it before the deadline!" Jack Billings cut in belligerently.

  The Burnside trio did not try to deny the charge. But they insisted that they knew nothing about the missing painting, the smoke bomb, or the fire. "Wed never do anything like that, honestly!" the apparent ringleader declared. "We just wanted to pester you enough to hold up your shooting schedule."

  Nancy was inclined to believe him, as were most of the Westmoor group. "But," Ned said, "that's not all you fellows did. We not only lost time due to your dirty tricks; we also wasted a lot of expensive film footage!"

  "How about if we replace the wasted film?" Cliff said guiltily.

  "And promise not to pull any more funny business," the ringleader added. "Will that square things ?"

  The Westmoor club members agreed that they would be satisfied with these truce terms, so the Burnside trio was allowed to leave with no worse punishment than the derisive grins and jibes of their erstwhile victims.

  After getting their cars and setting up their equipment once more, the film club resumed shooting. It was almost eleven o'clock before they were through, but by that time the night scene had been filmed successfully and everyone was happy with the results.

  "Were still going to have to work double time though, to bring this in under the wire!" Ned told them.

  The next day, Nancy put on jeans and a cotton print shirt and left early for the Grimsby Mansion. As she drove past Hugh Morstons opulent estate, she saw him on the lawn, examining a big evergreen tree. On impulse, Nancy stopped and greeted him.

  "Well, Nancy," Hugh Morston said and smiled, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

  Nancy related how she had seen him at the library on the previous evening, reading a magazine, and how the sight of Roger Harlow's photograph on the open page had caused her to stop and skim the article about his feud with Howard Ainslee.

  "Forgive me if I seem snoopy," she went on, "but do you mind telling me why you looked up that article?"

  Morston seemed shaken by her question. "Just curiosity, I suppose," he said with an awkward shrug.

  "Why now? Did you know Howard Ainslee?"

  "I didn't at the time of his trouble with Roger Harlow, but I've met him since." Mr. Morston seemed reluctant to say anything further, adding, "I really know nothing about the matter, beyond what we've both read."

  But Nancy persisted. Smiling winningly at him, she said, "Mr. Morston, if you know anything at all that might possibly have a bearing on the Shooting Star case, it would be such a big help."

  Hugh Morston's troubled expression relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "Nancy, you could charm the birds out of the trees, I'm sure," he said.

  With a sigh, he went on, "Well, there's just one thing I can tell you. Ainslee recently moved into this area. Less than a month ago, he bought a house on the other side of Brookvale Forest."

  16. A Shimmer of Beauty

  Nancy was startled by the news about Roger Harlow's old enemy, Howard Ainslee. If Ainslee now lived in this area, he might well be involved in the mystery that she had been asked to solve!

  "Thank you, Mr. Morston," she said slowly. "You've certainly given me something to think about."

  Her informant stroked his thin mustache and shrugged. "Just a small piece of information, my dear. It may or may not be important. That's for you to judge. If there's any other way I can help, please call on me."

  "I shall. And thanks again, Mr. Morston."

  As she drove off, Nancy pondered what she hadjust learned. Was it possible that Ainslee still bore a bitter enough grudge against Roger Harlow to have stolen his prize thoroughbred? The idea seemed fantastic, especially after a lapse of ten years. Yet both men had invested millions of dollars in their feud with the result that Ainslee had lost his chance to win control of a vast corporation. Surely, crimes had been committed in revenge for far lesser grievances than that!

  For that matter, maybe Howard Ainslee was still trying to take over the same company and felt that any trouble for Roger Harlow would work out to his own advantage.

  Nancy put the whole matter out of her head as she parked her car in the courtyard of the old Grimsby Mansion. Most of the Westmoor film club members had already arrived and were busy getting set up to begin shooting.

  Denise Foley came scurrying up eagerly in a full-skirted gown as Nancy entered the house. "Do I look all right in this silly bonnet?" she asked a trifle breathlessly.

  Nancy could see that she was nervous at the prospect of acting in front of a movie camera with the rest of the film club looking on. "Of course! It's perfectr she assured Denise.

  The first scene that morning was to be filmed in the parlor. Denise was to play the role of an inquisitive neighbor. She had seen a tall dark stranger in a black cape lurking near the mansion at twilight the previous evening, so she was calling to find out if Nancy had attracted a new suitor.

  The filming began soon after Nancy had changed into her costume and applied her makeup. All went smoothly as Ned called "Cut!" and ordered spotlights to be moved into position so the two actresses could be photographed in close-up.

  "Hey, what's that?" Mike muttered suddenly. He held up his hand, signaling the others to be still for a moment.

  A sound could be heard coming up through the floor!

  "It sounds like something ringing down in the basement," said Ned. He looked around at the other club members. "Is anyone down there?"

  Heads were shaken. "No, were all here," Sara White replied.

  Although nobody said so, everyone immediately wondered if another intrusion was taking place.

  "Id better go see," Ned said.

  "Well both go," Mike declared.

  The two young men started down the hallway leading to the rear of the house. The others followed uneasily. But when Ned pressed the switch for the landing light, the back stairway remained dark. Nor could any glow be seen from below when he pressed the cellar light switch.

  "That's funny," Jack Billings said with a frown. "They should both work. We replaced every bulb in the house."

  "Never mind. We can grope our way down," said Ned. "There's probably enough light coming through the basement windows to see what's ringing."

  "No, wait!" Nancy spoke up anxiously. "Those stairs are too steep to take any chances!"

  She dashed out to her car and returned with a flashlight. "Here, use this!"

  Ned grinned and flicked it on. "Whatever you say, ma'am." He started down the steps with Mike close behind him.

  They had just gone around the bend of the landing when the others heard startled exclamations from the two youths.

  "What's wrong, you guys?" Jack called.

  "Take a look!"

  As the others crowded down the stairs and craned for a glimpse, they saw that a wire had been stretched at ankle height across the third step down from the landing!

  "Good grief!" Jane Logan gasped in dismay. "You two could have fallen and broken your necks!"

  Ned Nickerson nodded grimly. "We would have if Nancy hadn't insisted on me taking this flashlight!"

  The ringing noise could still be heard, although it now seemed to be dying away. While Mike disconnected the wire, Ned went on down to investigate. He soon returned to the foot of the stairs to show the others what had caused the sound.

  "An alarm clock!" Sara exclaimed. "Whose is it?"

  "Good question," Ned responded. "Will the owner please speak up?"

  Nobody said a word.

  "The next question," said Ned, "is why the lights won't work." He went off to check the fuse box. Presently, he called out. "Try turning them on now!"

  When Jack pressed the switches at the top of the stairs, both the landing and basement lights went on.

  "The fuses were unscrewed," Ned reported.

  Nancy was horrified. It seemed clear that someone had deliberately set a booby trap for them. The alarm clock must have been placed in the basement the night before and set to go off the following morning. And t
he same party had no doubt stretched the wire across the stairs and unscrewed the two fuses. As a result, anyone who went down the unlit steps to investigate the alarm sound was almost certain to trip over the wire!

  'Tm still not sure what's going on," Nancy confided to Ned a little later when they were alone for a few moments. "But whatever it is, this is more serious than we realized."

  Ned nodded, his face grave. "I agree. I wonder how the creep who set the trap got into the house last night."

  "Are there any signs of a break-in?"

  "The door locks haven't been tampered with. I've already checked. Of course, whoever did it might have pried open a window, I suppose."

  Despite the ominous way in which the day had begun, two good scenes were successfully filmed during the morning. As lunchtime approached, Ned mentioned to Nancy that Bess Marvin would be needed again that afternoon to play the role of maid.

  "I know. I phoned yesterday to remind her," Nancy said. "In fact, I promised to go and pick her up.

  Bess was ready and waiting when Nancy arrived at the Marvins' house. The plump, blond girl was bubbling over with excitement, eager to resume her movie-acting career.

  "What happens today?" she asked, settling herself beside Nancy in the car.

  "Oh, a couple of juicy scenes. One of them," Nancy added with a giggle, "is where you accidentally sweep up the vampires fangs!"

  After stopping on the way for hamburgers, they drove to the Grimsby Mansion. Nancy was not needed for the sweeping scene so she did not get back into costume immediately. She was opening the drapes wider in the sitting room in order to provide more light for the filming, when her eye was caught by a glimmer of colors from the bushes just outside the window.

  "Oh, my goodness! What's that?" Nancy said. She hurried outside for a better look and returned moments later, wide-eyed at her discovery.

  "What is it?" asked Bess, who had just come downstairs in her maid's costume. She gasped as Nancy showed her what she had found. "An opall'

  "And its hugel" Denise said as she and the other club members crowded around to see it.

  The lovely gem was aflame with color and attached to a silver chain.