“Let’s go take a look at the statue,” he suggested.
The couple danced to the entrance leading to the front porch. Then they started slowly across the lawn.
The marble figure cast a broad shadow. There was something eerie about the scene with the beautiful young woman looking longingly in the direction of her Italian homeland.
“Too bad the owner’s wife was ill and unhappy here,” Nancy thought. “The place is so beautiful anyone should find it delightful.”
It was very quiet and Nancy and Ned found themselves tiptoeing along and not saying a word. Suddenly Nancy caught Ned’s arm and they stopped walking. He locked at her questioningly.
“Ned,” she said in a very low tone, “the statue is whispering!”
CHAPTER X
A Near Discovery
NANCY and Ned moved toward the statue quietly, as if their presence might disturb it. The whispered sounds continued.
Finally the couple reached the marble figure and stood listening. A moment later broad smiles spread over their faces. The sounds were not coming from the statue. In fact, it was not whispering at all!
On the other side of the figure a couple sat on the ground, their backs against the sculpture. A young man was saying, “You must marry me. Life is nothing without you.”
A girl’s trembling voice answered, “I can’t! Maybe a year from now when I graduate from college.”
Chagrined, Nancy and Ned tiptoed away and returned to the yacht club. There they had a good laugh and Ned remarked, “I wonder how that romance will turn out.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” Nancy replied. “I didn’t recognize the voices, so they must be a couple who came here just for the day.”
The thought of the statue whispering stayed in Nancy’s mind. The following morning after church she and Ned strolled once more to the front of the club to look at the marble lady. A strong wind had come up, so Nancy took a scarf from her pocket and tied it over her wig.
As they neared the statue, Nancy exclaimed, “Listen!”
The two stood still. This time Nancy was not wrong—there were murmuring sounds coming from the marble figure!
“This is remarkable!” Ned exclaimed. “The statue didn’t make a sound last night. What do you attribute this to?”
“Two things,” Nancy replied. “The wind, for one. And as you know I suspect this is a reproduction. I believe the person who made it came here very late last night and did something to it so that when the wind blows, the statue will make a whispering sound.”
“But why should he bother to do that?” Ned questioned.
Nancy said whoever did it hoped to allay any suspicions that the statue was a reproduction.
“I’d like George and the others to hear this,” she said.
“I’ll get them,” Ned offered. “You stay here and see what the young lady has to say.”
During his absence the wind died down completely. No sounds came from the statue, but just as the others arrived, the wind suddenly began to blow hard again.
Bess put her ear close to the statue. “I can’t believe it!” she said.
George admitted that there were sounds all right, but she could not distinguish any words. “Don’t tell me, Bess, that you can make anything out of it.”
A slightly frightened look crossed Bess’s face. She said, “It sounded as if the statue were murmuring the words, ‘Go home! Go home!’”
Dave shook his head. “You certainly have great imagination, Bess.”
Nancy examined the statue but could not discover anything different about it.
The three boys looked at their watches and said they must leave directly after dinner. “We’d better eat now,” Burt suggested.
The young people went into the club. Nancy stopped to tell Mr. Ayer about their discovery but learned he had gone out to dinner.
While they were eating, Dave said, “Girls, this has been a really groovy weekend. Invite us down again if you need some male help.”
“You bet!” George replied. “But I have a hunch Nancy is going to solve this mystery within a few days.”
“And that would mean you’d go back to River Heights?” Dave asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Nancy replied.
During the afternoon it rained hard and the girls were forced to stay indoors. By the next morning the weather had cleared.
Before Nancy left for work she dropped into Mr. Ayer’s office. “Guess what,” she said. “The statue is whispering!”
“You’re joking!”
“It’s true, but only when the wind blows.”
“I’ll go out and listen. By the way, the books Ned ordered arrived a few minutes ago. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Yes, thank you. Shall I get in touch with Mrs. Merriam or will you?”
The manager said he would do it. “Perhaps by the time you get back here, I’ll have some news for you.”
There were many customers during the morning at the art and bookshop and Nancy was kept very busy. At one point the thought went through her mind, “Mr. Basswood has a wonderful business. He doesn’t have to be dishonest. Why should he do anything underhanded?”
Mr. Basswood did little of the selling. He remained in his office, always keeping the door locked. Each time Nancy went to see him, she knocked and he unlocked it. He never let her inside and did not open the door far enough for her to get even a peek at the interior.
“He’s certainly secretive and peculiar,” she decided.
After she had made her tenth sale of the morning, he gave her a smile and said, “Miss Lynbrook, you are doing a very good job.”
Whenever she appeared at the office, he would give her change from his pocket. She was surprised that he carried such a large amount of cash. As Nancy was mulling this over near the book department, she saw a couple come in.
“Oh!” she thought in dismay. “They’re Mr. and Mrs. Thompson from River Heights and they know me well!”
While she was debating where she might hide, Mr. Thompson signed the register for the two of them. Nancy decided that she just had time to hurry to the powder room and hide there until the couple left.
But her hopes were dashed when Mrs. Thompson turned in that direction. Her husband came the other way toward Nancy.
Desperate, she jumped behind a life-sized bronze statue of a sailor. As the man moved, she tiptoed around it. All this time she kept one eye out for Mrs. Thompson. Minutes later the woman came into the room and walked toward her husband.
Nancy wondered what to do. She could not hide from both of them! Could she depend on her disguise not to be recognized? In a panic she turned her back on the couple.
“Oh, miss, will you help us?” Mr. Thompson called out.
Instead of replying, Nancy quickly pulled a pad and pencil from her pocket and wrote:
I’m here incognito. Please don’t identify me and put this note in your pocket.
She planned to take the Thompsons into her confidence and hoped they would not unwittingly reveal who she was. Surreptitiously Nancy put her hand backward around the side of the statue and the note was taken. There was silence for a couple of moments.
Feeling it was safe now to face the Thompsons, Nancy walked toward them. She held back the two sides of the long hair which partially covered her face. Recognizing her, Mr. Thompson gave the pretty detective a big wink and his wife smiled broadly. They did not call her by name.
Mr. Thompson said he wanted to look over the rare books. His wife was interested in purchasing a statuette.
A few minutes later when neither the owner nor his assistant was around, Mr. Thompson whispered to Nancy, “Are you on another mystery adventure?”
“Yes. Someday I’ll tell you all about it.”
She sold the Thompsons two books and a statuette, wrote the sales check, and took the money to Mr. Basswood’s office. She knocked on the door but there was no answer.
“He must have gone out,” she decided. “I wonder where
Mr. Atkin is.”
The assistant was not in sight. Since he always stood near the front door when anyone was in the shop, Nancy was puzzled.
She called his name but there was no answer. Nancy walked into the rear room but he was not in it.
“I must leave this money some place!” she thought.
Once more Nancy knocked on the office door. When there was still no response, she tried the knob. To her surprise the door was unlocked.
She opened it wide and walked in. Then she gasped.
Mr. Atkin was slumped over a desk!
CHAPTER XI
Telltale Letter
NANCY was horrified to see that Mr. Atkin was motionless in his chair. The upper part of his body was face down on the desk. She rushed in and immediately felt his pulse. It was extremely faint and intermittent.
“Anyway, he’s alive,” she murmured. “But I must get help.”
She hurried back to Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and told them what had happened.
“Please come,” she begged.
They immediately followed her. Mr. Thompson, a physical education teacher, gave the victim a quick examination and said he thought Mr. Atkin had had a heart attack.
“We must get him to the hospital as quickly as possible. Nancy, call the police and get an ambulance here right away.”
As she dialed the number, the River Heights couple gently laid the patient on the floor. Mrs. Thompson took some smelling salts from her handbag and tried to revive Mr. Atkin. There was no response.
Nancy by this time was talking to Captain Turner. When she told of her discovery, he said a hospital ambulance would be sent at once to the shop. Within minutes a doctor was giving the victim oxygen.
“He’s in bad shape,” the doctor said.
During this procedure Nancy had been glancing around the office to learn as much as she could about it. On the desk lay a penciled notation. It read: M De K 500 on acct.
Just then Mr. Basswood walked in. He turned pale at the sight. “What happened?” he asked.
Nancy replied, “Apparently Mr. Atkin has had a heart attack. I found the door unlocked and entered. He was slumped across the desk. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson came in to help.”
The shop owner gave her a searching look. “This office is private and I don’t like any outsiders coming into it!” he said unpleasantly.
The doctor and Mr. and Mrs. Thompson looked at the man in disgust. He did not seem the least bit concerned about the condition of his assistant.
“I’m taking Mr. Atkin to the hospital,” the doctor told him.
“Very well. And be quick about it,” Mr. Basswood said icily.
A stretcher was brought in, but before Mr. Atkin could be put on it, Mr. Basswood ordered Nancy and the Thompsons out of the office. The instant the victim had been removed, he stepped outside, slammed the door shut, and locked it.
Nancy was shocked by the man’s rudeness, but she said calmly, “Mr. Basswood, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson bought two books and a statuette. I left these and the sales slip in your office.”
“I’ll get them,” the shop owner said.
He brought them outside and told Nancy to wrap the two volumes. “I’ll attend to the statuette myself,” he said, handing the change to Mr. Thompson.
After he had disappeared into the back room, Mrs. Thompson whispered to Nancy, “Don’t bother to wrap the books. They’re so small they’ll fit in my purse. How do you stand it to work for such a man? And why are you here?”
“I can’t tell you now.” Nancy glanced at her watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. Where are you going?”
“To the yacht club.”
“Would you mind giving me a ride?” Nancy asked.
“Glad to,” Mr. Thompson said.
Presently Mr. Basswood arrived with the statuette. “I noticed from the sales slip that you’re from River Heights,” he said. “By any chance do you know Carson Drew who lives there with his daughter Nancy?”
Nancy did not show any emotion at the question. She listened intently for her friends’ answer.
To her delight Mr. Thompson replied, “Mr. Drew is a prominent lawyer in town. He’s well known. I understand his daughter is very attractive.”
Mrs. Thompson spoke up. “She has the loveliest golden red hair you ever saw.”
Nancy could have hugged both of them but she remained motionless.
She said to the shop owner, “It’s twelve o’clock. May I go now?”
“All right. But be back here promptly at two.”
He turned and walked away without another word. The Thompsons grinned and shook their heads.
A few minutes later Nancy was in the couple’s car and heading toward the yacht club. Mr. Thompson asked Nancy, “What name are you using? I don’t want to make a mistake if I happen to see you in the lobby or the dining room.”
His question reminded Nancy that she had promised to tell him and his wife about her case. Without going into detail or involving Mr. Basswood directly, she said she was trying to trace a collection of books he had been commissioned to sell. Since he was uncommunicative on the subject, she was hoping to pick up some clues at the shop.
When they reached the club, Bess and George were waiting for Nancy. After she had thanked the Thompsons and introduced them to her friends, Bess drew her aside. “Come into Mr. Ayer’s office,” she whispered excitedly. “He has some news for you.”
The girls excused themselves and hurried off to talk to the manager. He gave Nancy a broad smile. “Miss Lynbrook,” he said, “you’re certainly on the right track. Mrs. Merriam was here. In one of the books that Ned bought she found a letter which had been written by her uncle to her father but never mailed.”
“That’s a marvelous clue!” Nancy exclaimed. “There’s no doubt that the books are hers.”
“It certainly looks,” said Mr. Ayer, “as if Mr. Basswood is guilty of fraud.”
George spoke up. “What are you going to do—have him arrested?”
Nancy shook her head. “Not until I notify my father. By the way, Mr. Basswood’s assistant is in the hospital.”
“What!” the others cried.
Nancy told them about Mr. Atkin suffering a heart attack. “I wonder how he is. When I go back to the shop this afternoon, I’ll find out.”
Bess asked, “When you were in Mr. Basswood’s office, did you see anything suspicious?”
“No, but I saw an interesting notation on his desk.”
She told about the note saying M De K 500 on acct. Nancy asked Mr. Ayer if she might use his phone to get in touch with her father. He nodded and she put in the call. Mr. Drew was neither in his office nor at home. According to his secretary, the lawyer was in Washington.
“If he calls here, I’ll give him your message,” she told Nancy.
The girls went to the dining room for lunch but did not talk about the mystery, afraid that someone might overhear them. Nancy, however, could not keep her mind off it.
“One thing seems certain,” she said to herself. “Since Mr. Atkin has access to Mr. Basswood’s office, he must know what’s going on and is in league with his employer.”
She was determined to do more sleuthing in the shop. When Nancy arrived there, she asked Mr. Basswood how his assistant was.
He answered nonchalantly, “Oh, he’ll be all right. Atkin gets these attacks once in a while. Doesn’t watch his health.”
At that moment a customer arrived and Nancy asked if she could help him. This was the beginning of a very busy afternoon for her. Mr. Basswood did not wait on anyone, so Nancy had no chance to do any investigating in the shop. At four o’clock sharp he told her to go and locked the door behind her.
As she walked toward the taxi stand, the young detective said to herself, “If I had this job as my real livelihood, I’d certainly ask for higher wages. Mr. Basswood is a selfish old meany. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve brought him over a thousand dollars in sales.”
Nancy was cheered, however, by the o
ne possible clue she had discovered—the mysterious M De K notation.
A visitor was waiting for her at the yacht club. A pleasant, serious-faced man of about forty said he was Sylvester Holden and had come to examine the statue on the front lawn.
In a low tone he said, “Your father sent me.”
Nancy nodded. Mr. Ayer, Bess, and George followed Nancy and Mr. Holden outdoors. The sculptor carried a small bag of tools.
“This is a fine piece,” he remarked as they approached the statue. “I suspect it is a reproduction, however.”
He took a strong magnifying glass from his tool kit and spent several minutes going over the statue. Presently he brought out a chisel and tapped the marble.
“It doesn’t ring,” he said. “An original would. This piece is made from marble dust mixed with a white casting cement. But I must say it’s one of the finest reproductions I’ve ever seen.”
“Do you think it was made in this country?” Mr. Ayer asked.
Mr. Holden said there was no way of being sure, but he suspected that it had been made in the United States. “I think this is powdered Vermont marble.”
Nancy spoke up. “Can you give us any clue about how we might find out who the sculptor was?”
“That depends on whether or not the person who made the piece wanted to keep his identity a secret. Most sculptors and makers of reproductions put a mark on the base of the statue. Let’s turn this lady on her side and take a look.”
“Let’s hope it hasn’t been cemented down,” Nancy remarked.
She was relieved to find this had not been done yet. The statue was tipped over and gently laid on the lawn. Everyone peered at the base.
“I see something!” Nancy exclaimed. “It’s very faint, but it says M De K!”
CHAPTER XII
Unexpected Clue
BESS and George also stared at the initials on the base of the statue. “M De K!” they exclaimed, recalling what Nancy had told them about the notation in Mr. Basswood’s office.
Turning to Mr. Holden, Nancy asked, “Do you know a sculptor with the initials M De K?”