Read The Hidden Staircase Page 12


  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” said Nancy. Then suddenly she asked, “Where’s my father?”

  Willie Wharton shifted his weight and looked about wildly. “I don’t know, really I don’t.”

  “But you kidnaped him in your car,” the young sleuth prodded him. “We got a description of you from the taximan.”

  Several seconds went by before Willie Wharton answered. “I didn’t know it was kidnaping. Mr. Gomber said your father was ill and that he was going to take him to a special doctor. He said Mr. Drew was coming on a train from Chicago and was going to meet Mr. Gomber on the road halfway between here and the station. But Gomber said he couldn’t meet him—had other business to attend to. So I was to follow your father’s taxi and bring him to Riverview Manor.”

  “Yes, yes, go on,” Nancy urged, as Willie Wharton stopped speaking and covered his face with his hands.

  “I didn’t expect your father to be unconscious when I picked him up,” Wharton went on. “Well, those men in the taxi put Mr. Drew in the back of my car and I brought him here. Mr. Gomber drove up from the other direction and said he would take over. He told me to come right here to Twin Elms and do some ghosting.”

  “And you have no idea where Mr. Gomber took my father?” Nancy asked, with a sinking feeling.

  “Nope.”

  In a few words she pointed out Nathan Gomber’s real character to Willie Wharton, hoping that if the man before her did know anything about Mr. Drew’s whereabouts which he was not telling, he would confess. But from Wharton’s emphatic answers and sincere offers to be of all the help he could in finding the missing lawyer, Nancy concluded that Wharton was not withholding any information.

  “How did you find out about this passageway and the secret staircases?” Nancy questioned him.

  “Gomber found an old notebook under a heap of rubbish in the attic of Riverview Manor,” Wharton answered. “He said it told everything about the secret entrances to the two houses. The passageways, with openings on each floor, were built when the houses were. They were used by the original Turnbulls in bad weather to get from one building to the other. This stairway was for the servants. The other two stairways were for the family. One of these led to Mr. Turnbull’s bedroom in this house. The notebook also said that he often secretly entertained government agents and sometimes he had to hurry them out of the parlor and hide them in the passageway when callers came.”

  “Where does this stairway lead?” Helen spoke up.

  “To the attic of Twin Elms.” Willie Wharton gave a little chuckle. “I know, Miss Drew, that you almost found the entrance. But the guys that built the place were pretty clever. Every opening has heavy double doors. When you poked that screw driver through the crack, you thought you were hitting another wall but it was really a door.”

  “Did you play the violin and turn on the radio —and make that thumping noise in the attic—and were you the one who laughed when we were up there?”

  “Yes, and I moved the sofa to scare you and I even knew about the listening post. That’s how I found out all your plans and could report them to Mr. Gomber.”

  Suddenly it occurred to Nancy that Nathan Gomber might appear on the scene at any moment. She must get Willie Wharton away and have him swear to his signature before he changed his mind!

  “Mr. Wharton, would you please go ahead of us up this stairway and open the doors?” she asked. “And go into Twin Elms with us and talk to Mrs. Turnbull and Mrs. Hayes? I want you to tell them that you’ve been playing ghost but aren’t going to any longer. Miss Flora has been so frightened that she’s ill and in bed.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Willie Wharton replied. “Sure I’ll go with you. I never want to see Nathan Gomber again!”

  He went ahead of the girls and took down the heavy wooden bar from across the door. He swung it wide, pulled a metal ring in the back of the adjoining door, then quickly stepped downward. The narrow panel opening which Nancy had suspected of leading to the secret stairway now was pulled inward. There was barely room alongside it to go up the top steps and into the attic. To keep Gomber from becoming suspicious if he should arrive, Nancy asked Willie Wharton to close the secret door again.

  “Helen,” said Nancy, “will you please run downstairs ahead of Mr. Wharton and me and tell Miss Flora and Aunt Rosemary the good news.”

  She gave Helen a three-minute start, then she and Willie Wharton followed. The amazed women were delighted to have the mystery solved. But there was no time for celebration.

  “Mr. Barradale is downstairs to see you, Nancy,” Aunt Rosemary announced.

  Nancy turned to Willie Wharton. “Will you come down with me, please?”

  She introduced both herself and the missing property owner to Mr. Barradale, then went on, “Mr. Wharton says the signature on the contract of sale is his own.”

  “And you’ll swear to that?” the lawyer asked, turning to Willie.

  “I sure will. I don’t want anything more to do with this underhanded business,” Willie Wharton declared.

  “I know where I can find a notary public right away,” Nancy spoke up. “Do you want me to phone him, Mr. Barradale?” she asked.

  “Please do. At once.”

  Nancy dashed to the telephone and dialed the number of Albert Watson on Tuttle Road. When he answered, she told him the urgency of the situation and he promised to come over at once. Mr. Watson arrived within five minutes, with his notary equipment. Mr. Barradale showed him the contract of sale containing Willie Wharton’s name and signature. Attached to it was the certificate of acknowledgment.

  Mr. Watson asked Willie Wharton to raise his right hand and swear that he was the person named in the contract of sale. After this was done, the notary public filled in the proper places on the certificate, signed it, stamped the paper, and affixed his seal.

  “Well, this is really a wonderful job, Miss Drew,” Mr. Barradale praised her.

  Nancy smiled, but her happiness at having accomplished a task for her father was dampened by the fact that she still did not know where he was. Mr. Barradale and Willie Wharton also were extremely concerned.

  “I’m going to call Captain Rossland and ask him to send some policemen out here at once,” Nancy stated. “What better place for Mr. Gomber to hide my father than somewhere along that passageway? How far does it go, Mr. Wharton?”

  “Mr. Comber says it goes all the way to the river, but the end of it is completely stoned up now. I never went any farther than the stairways.”

  The young lawyer thought Nancy’s idea a good one, because if Nathan Gomber should return to Riverview Manor and find that Willie was gone, he would try to escape.

  The police promised to come at once. Nancy had just finished talking with Captain Rossland when Helen Corning called from the second floor.

  “Nancy, can you come up here? Miss Flora in. sists upon seeing the hidden staircase.”

  The young sleuth decided that she would just about have time to do this before the arrival of the police. Excusing herself to Mr. Barradale, she ran up the stairs. Aunt Rosemary had put on a rose-colored dressing gown while attending her mother. To Nancy’s amazement, Mrs. Turnbull was fully dressed and wore a white blouse with a high collar and a black skirt.

  Nancy and Helen led the way to the attic. There, the girl detective, crouching on her knees, opened the secret door.

  “And all these years I never knew it was herel” Miss Flora exclaimed.

  “And I doubt that my father did or he would have mentioned it,” Aunt Rosemary added.

  Nancy closed the secret door and they all went downstairs. She could hear the front-door bell ringing and assumed that it was the police. She and Helen hurried below. Captain Rossland and another officer stood there. They said other men had surrounded Riverview Manor, hoping to catch Nathan Gomber if he did arrive there.

  With Willie Wharton leading the way, the girls, Mr. Barradale, and the police trooped to the attic and went down the hidden staircase to the d
ank passageway below.

  “I have a hunch from reading about old passageways that there may be one or more rooms off this tunnel,” Nancy told Captain Rossland.

  There were so many powerful flashlights in play now that the place was almost as bright as daylight. As the group moved along, they suddenly came to a short stairway. Willie Wharton explained that this led to an opening back of the sofa in the parlor. There was still another stone stairway which went up to Miss Flora’s bedroom with an opening alongside the fireplace.

  The searchers went on. Nancy, who was ahead of the others, discovered a padlocked iron door in the wall. Was it a dungeon? She had heard of such places being used for prisoners in Colonial times.

  By this time Captain Rossland had caught up to her. “Do you think your father may be in there?” he asked.

  “I’m terribly afraid so,” said Nancy, shivering at the thought of what she might find.

  The officer found that the lock was very rusty. Pulling from his pocket a penknife with various tool attachments, he soon had the door unlocked and flung it wide. He beamed his light into the blackness beyond. It was indeed a room without windows.

  Suddenly Nancy cried out, “Dad!” and sprang ahead.

  Lying on blankets on the floor, and covered with others, was Mr. Drew. He was murmuring faintly.

  “He’s alive!” Nancy exclaimed, kneeling down to pat his face and kiss him.

  “He’s been drugged,” Captain Rossland observed. “I’d say Nathan Gomber has been giving your father just enough food to keep him alive and mixing sleeping powders in with it.”

  From his trousers pocket the officer brought out a small vial of restorative and held it to Mr. Drew’s nose. In a few moments the lawyer shook his head, and a few seconds later, opened his eyes.

  “Keep talking to your dad,” the captain ordered Nancy.

  “Dad! Wake up! You’re all right! We’ve rescued you!”

  Within a very short time Mr. Drew realized that his daughter was kneeling beside him. Reaching out his arms from beneath the blankets, he tried to hug her.

  “We’ll take him upstairs,” said Captain Rossland. “Willie, open that secret entrance to the parlor.”

  “Glad to be of help.” Wharton hurried ahead and up the short flight of steps.

  In the meantime, the other three men lifted Mr. Drew and carried him along the passageway. By the time they reached the stairway, Willie Wharton had opened the secret door behind the sofa in the parlor. Mr. Drew was placed on the couch. He blinked, looked around, and then said in astonishment:

  “Willie Wharton! How did you get here? Nancy, tell me the whole story.”

  The lawyer’s robust health and sturdy constitution had stood him in good stead. He recovered with amazing rapidity from his ordeal and listened in rapt attention as one after another of those in the room related the events of the past few days.

  As the story ended, there was a knock on the front door and another police officer was admitted. He had come to report to Captain Rossland that not only had Nathan Gomber been captured outside of Riverview Manor, and all the loot recovered, but also that the final member of the group who had abducted Mr. Drew had been taken into custody. Gomber had admitted everything, even to having attempted to injure Nancy and her father with the truck at the River Heights’ bridge project. He had tried to frighten Miss Flora into selling Twin Elms because he had planned to start a housing project on the two Turnbull properties.

  “It’s a real victory for you!” Nancy’s father praised his daughter proudly.

  The young sleuth smiled. Although she was glad it was all over, she could not help but look forward to another mystery to solve. One soon came her way when, quite accidentally, she found herself involved in The Bungalow Mystery.

  Miss Flora and Aunt Rosemary had come downstairs to meet Mr. Drew. While they were talking to him, the police officer left, taking Willie Wharton with him as a prisoner. Mr. Barradale also said good-by. Nancy and Helen slipped out of the room and went to the kitchen.

  “We’ll prepare a super-duper lunch to celebrate this occasion!” said Helen happily.

  “And we can make all the plans we want,” Nancy replied with a grin. “There won’t be anyone at the listening post!”

 


 

  Carolyn Keene, The Hidden Staircase

 


 

 
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