Chapter 12 The Bungalow Mystery by Carolyn Keene
A Black Abyss
As Jacob Aborn stared into the closet where Nancy was hiding, the girl detective wished wildly that she were invisible. There was no telling what harm the man might inflict if he saw her!
“He has such a violent temper,” Nancy realized.
But Aborn’s glance did not stray to the dress section. Instead, he reached up for two large suitcases which were on a shelf above the clothes. He set them on the floor outside and shut the closet door.
Beads of perspiration trickled down Nancy’s neck as she relaxed. Presently she heard the man leave the room and shut the hall door with a loud bang.
Nancy waited a moment, then left her hiding place. “I suppose I’d better leave while I can,” she advised herself.
But running away from a chance to pick up a clue was not in Nancy’s nature. As she heard Laura’s guardian descending the stairs to the first floor, she became aware of a woman’s voice somewhere below. Nancy decided, “I’ll stay and see what’s going on.”
Before leaving Laura’s bedroom she gave it a final searching look and shook her head, puzzled. The room was one which Nancy would be happy to call her own. The feminine furnishings and good colonial pieces showed evidence of discerning taste. They did not fit the Aborns’ character. Perhaps an interior decorator had planned it!
“One could believe from this room that the Aborns really wanted Laura,” Nancy pondered.
It just did not make sense. Many criminals, Nancy knew, laid the groundwork to lull any suspicion on the part of their victim, then cornered him. But Laura had not even been settled in her new home when the Aborns had begun to persecute her.
Soundlessly Nancy opened the bedroom door, and keeping her flashlight low to the floor, tiptoed along the carpeted hall. Step by step, she edged down the stairway to the floor below. Here there was no sign of activity but Nancy saw a light shining through louvered doors to her left.
“That’s probably the kitchen. The Aborns are in there,” she thought.
A moment later the woman said, “Here’s the combination. I’ll pack this stuff while you open the safe.”
Quickly Nancy stole into the living room and hastily ducked out of sight behind a large sofa. She was just in time. One of the louvered doors opened and Laura’s guardian came into the living room carrying a suitcase. He flicked on a table lamp.
Near it hung the small oil painting of a ship. Aborn lifted it from the wall and set the picture against a chair.
Nancy’s eyes widened as she saw that the painting had concealed a wall safe. Aborn deftly twirled the dial to the left, then several notches to the right, and back to the left again. He swung the safe door open.
With a grunt of satisfaction, the man removed several packages of bank notes and some papers which looked like stock certificates. Mr. Aborn chortled and called to his wife:
“When we get the rest of these cashed, you and I will be set for life—thanks to Laura and a few others.”
Nancy, startled, almost gave herself away. So Laura did have a sizable inheritance other than the jewelry! But how had the securities reached the safe? Had Aborn brought them here or was he stealing them from someone else? Nancy felt more confused by the moment.
As her thoughts raced, Aborn replaced the loose papers in the safe and closed it. Then he put the money and securities into the suitcase. Giving a tired yawn, he switched off the lamp and left the room.
“Guess I’ll turn in,” he called to his wife. “Got to be up early tomorrow and get Fred. You ready?”
“Yes.”
Marian Aborn came from the kitchen carrying the other bag. Together the couple ascended the stairs. Nancy heard a bedroom door above close.
“Now I must get the police,” the girl detective thought.
She paused for several seconds, after coming from behind the couch, to stretch her cramped limbs. “I’d better go out the front door,” she decided. “The bedrooms don’t overlook that.”
Noiselessly Nancy slipped outside and started for her hidden car. Then a temptation came to her. “Why don’t I investigate that shack in the woods first? I may have an even bigger story to tell the police! I’ll do it!”
Taking a deep breath of air, Nancy hurried toward the path leading to the dilapidated building. Had she been right about having heard someone inside? Was he a friend or an enemy of Aborn’s? Were the packages being carried there and what did they contain? Loot?
“Maybe just food,” Nancy concluded. “But being taken to whom?”
Beaming her flashlight on the ground, the young detective soon picked up the trail she had taken earlier in the day. It was quiet and eerie as she stumbled along the uneven ground. Nancy became apprehensive once or twice as she heard scuffling noises of forest creatures in the underbrush, but went on.
“I wish Dad were here now,” she thought fervently.
Nancy reached the shack without mishap and paused in front of it. A sixth sense seemed to tell her there was someone inside who needed help. No person would stay in such a place unless forced to.
“This is no time for me to hesitate,” she told herself.
As Nancy moved toward the rear of the tumbledown building, she glanced at her flashlight and was alarmed to see that it was beginning to grow dim.
“Just my luck when I need it the most!”
In an attempt to save the battery, Nancy switched off the light. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she moved toward the window she had looked through earlier that day. Appraising it, the young sleuth realized that the window ledge was too high from the ground for her to climb through unassisted, even when standing on the box.
Undaunted, she began to examine the other windows. On the south side of the shack she found one which opened from the rickety porch. It was boarded up.
“This is my entry,” Nancy determined.
She began searching the yard for something with which to pry off the boards, and finally found a stout stick. Nancy began wedging it between the boards with all her might.
The first board offered stubborn resistance. Then, with a groan and a squeak, it gave way. The remaining boards were removed with less difficulty.
To Nancy’s joy, the window was unlocked! Pushing it up, she beamed her flashlight inside. The room beyond was bare and quiet as a tomb.
“Well, here comes Nancy Drew, housebreaker and spy!” Nancy thought with amused determination. “It’s certain now no one lives here.”
When she was halfway through the window the young sleuth hesitated without knowing just why. She glanced back over her shoulder. A queer sensation made Nancy quiver as she turned searching eyes toward the woods.
“How silly!” she scolded herself. “No one’s there. It’s just nerves.”
Bravely Nancy swung herself through the window. Hastily she moved toward an adjoining room, noting that her flashlight was growing dimmer. Soon she would be left in total darkness! She must hurry!
Her light revealed a small room, also empty, its walls and floor dusty from long lack of any occupant’s care. Nancy was disappointed to find nothing of interest.
“I’d better leave and drive to police headquarters,” she thought.
Just then Nancy’s flashlight revealed a trap door in the floor. Quickly she moved over toward it. But she had taken only a few steps when an unusual sound arrested her attention. Had she heard a board creak behind her, or was it a night sound from the woods?
After hesitating a second, Nancy again started for the trap door. As she reached down to grasp the ring in it, her body became tense.
This time there was no mistake. She had heard a peculiar sound which seemed to come from beneath the floor.
“It sounded like a groan!” Nancy decided. She felt cold all over.
Someone was imprisoned in the cellar! Who? And why?
As Nancy tugged at the ring, another idea came to her. This might be a trap laid for her!
“Oh, what should I do?” she thought, hesitating. There was still time to run away from danger.
But the fear that some person was in distress gave her the courage to open the trap door. As it swung upward, Nancy saw before her a flight of stone steps, leading down into complete darkness. A gust of damp, musty air struck her in the face and momentarily repulsed her.
Nancy glanced nervously at her flashlight. The battery could not last much longer. Already the light was so weak that she could barely see the steps in front of her. Did she dare investigate the cellar?
“It won’t take long,” she thought.
She descended the steps and came to a landing. The rest of the stairway went toward the left. Nancy peered anxiously into the black abyss below.
To her horror, she saw a man stretched out full length on a bench. His face was turned upward and Nancy caught a full glimpse of the countenance.
He was Jacob Aborn!