Chapter 16 The Mystery at Lilac Inn by Carolyn Keene
A Letter
The crash had come from the front of the inn. Everyone raced through the lobby to peer outside.
“Oh!” Nancy cried. “The historic lilac tree is down.”
The lovely “tree of good fortune” had fallen onto the lawn, splintered and charred.
“More bad luck!” Emily said mournfully.
Suddenly Maud burst out, “This is the last straw! I’m fed up with a place full of thieves, weird noises, bombs, a trembling building— I quit.”
She turned a scathing look on Mrs. Willoughby. “You got me into this. Thanks for nothing! I’ve found a better job on my own!”
Emily’s face was expressionless as Maud snapped open her purse and fumbled through its contents. She drew out a letter and flourished it.
“This is an offer of a position I received today from the Hotel Claymore in River Heights. I’ve already accepted it,” Maud stated. “Emily, I didn’t go to the employment agency just to find you a waitress, but to find a decent job for myself. But I asked the manager not to say I had been there.”
With dignity Emily said, “Maud, Dick will write a check for whatever salary we owe you.”
With a triumphant air Maud marched upstairs. Emily looked around anxiously. The waitresses and cooks had gathered in a corner of the hall. Obviously they had not missed a word of what had been said.
Nancy sensed what her friend was thinking: that the employees were probably suspicious about the fire. Now that Maud had mentioned the bomb, all of them might become alarmed enough to give notice. Prospects for Lilac Inn’s success would indeed be dim.
“I must help Em and Dick before it’s too late,” Nancy told herself determinedly.
As the rain abated and the sky began to brighten, the men went outside to examine the fallen lilac. Nancy now turned to Mrs. Willoughby, who seemed almost in a daze. “Perhaps you’d better sit down and rest,” she said kindly.
Emily’s aunt gave a great sigh. “I will. Please come with me to Emily’s office,” she asked the three girls.
When they were seated, Emily said, “Aunt Hazel, was Maud Potter threatening you in some way?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mrs. Willoughby replied wearily. “Actually I believe she wouldn’t have carried it out. But I couldn’t be sure—”
To the girls’ dismay, the woman broke down and sobbed. Nancy patted her shoulder. “Won’t you tell us about it?”
Regaining composure, Mrs. Willoughby nodded. “I feel terrible. When I brought Maud here, I thought I was helping Emily and Dick. But it’s turned out just the opposite.
“Anyhow,” she went on, “I met Maud a year ago at a party in River Heights. We became friendly—attended the theater and so forth. Maud seemed very pleasant and good company at the time. And I also felt sorry for her.”
“Sorry?” Helen echoed.
Mrs. Willoughby explained that Maud’s husband had died several years before, leaving her penniless. Since then, she had worked at various resorts, but not very long at any one.
“When Maud heard about Lilac Inn, she persuaded me that, with her experience, she’d be ideal as social director. But soon after her arrival here, she asked me to lend her a large sum of money—claimed to have a lot of unpaid bills which her salary wouldn’t cover. Maud became angry when I refused, but she continued her demands for money.”
Emily interrupted, “Aunt Hazel, why didn’t you tell us she was bothering you? Dick would have asked her to leave.”
“Maud insinuated that if I tried to force her to leave, she would say that—that I had stolen your diamonds, Emily, by getting them from the bank weeks ago, and substituting the fake stones!”
“How dreadful!” Nancy cried out, and Emily added fiercely, “That awful woman! But, Aunt Hazel, we never would have believed her.”
“I know,” Mrs. Willoughby said ruefully. “But with so many strange things happening, I guess I wasn’t thinking logically.”
Nancy had one more question to clear up regarding Maud Potter. She decided to mention Jean Holmes’ warning about the woman.
“Did any of you notice Maud going into our cottage the day of the fire?” Nancy asked. “Or our room here?”
No one had. Furthermore, Mrs. Willoughby added, “I believe Jean must have been mistaken. When Maud wasn’t with us, she stayed in her room typing. She probably was writing letters of application.”
Presently Nancy excused herself, saying she wanted to take a walk and do some thinking. Once outside, she took a trail toward the river. Drops of rain still sparkled on the foliage.
Nancy’s thoughts reverted to Jean’s story about Maud. “It sounds as though the waitress might not have been telling the truth. But why would she want to incriminate Maud? And why did Jean appear so uneasy when I mentioned ‘blue pipes’?”
The young sleuth suddenly roused from her concentration on the puzzle and became aware of an interesting, gnarled apple tree along the riverbank. Just then she noticed an envelope stuck in a crotch of the tree.
Nancy picked up the damp envelope, wondering if it had blown there during the storm or been placed in the crotch, perhaps for someone to find. There was no stamp or address on the envelope, only a name—Miss Lillie Merriweather.
Suddenly Nancy’s eye was caught by the fact that in the typed name the letter a was very faint. This, as well as the rest of the typing, reminded Nancy suddenly of the envelope found with her charge plate.
“I wonder if they were done on the same machine!” she thought excitedly.
The flap of the envelope had become unsealed from dampness and the girl slid the letter out easily. A pink lilac spray adorned the top left corner of the stationery. A message below it, all typed, read:
Dear Lillie:
I hope we can get together soon. I’ve been busy lining up an important job. Give my best to your dad. Tell him I have a beautiful blue pipe for him. Hope to see you soon.
Hastily, but with love,
Gay
Nancy’s heart was thumping with excitement. Lilacs—“blue pipes”—two envelopes bearing the same type—was someone named Gay her impersonator?
“The name Lillie Merriweather sounds vaguely familiar,” the girl detective thought.
Hastily she slid the letter back into the envelope and put it in the tree. She would alert the police to watch for anyone returning to look for the letter.
As Nancy hurried back to the inn, she recalled Mrs. Willoughby saying that Maud Potter had been typing. By some chance was the director still a possible suspect in the mystery? Was she the person who had typed the envelope containing Nancy’s charge plate?
“I’ll check,” Nancy determined. She went upstairs and knocked on Maud’s bedroom door. It was flung open by the director.
“Yes?” she snapped.
“May I come in?” Nancy asked.
Grudgingly, Maud allowed Nancy to enter and the detective saw that a suitcase was nearly packed. On a desk stood Maud’s typewriter, with a blank piece of paper in the roller.
“Well, Nancy, what do you want?” Maud asked.
Watching the woman closely, Nancy queried, “Have you heard from Gay or Lillie lately?”
“What?” Maud appeared flabbergasted. “I don’t know any Gay or Lillie. Now stop quizzing me as if I had done something criminal.”
“I suppose,” Nancy said icily, “that practically blackmailing Mrs. Willoughby isn’t?”
To her surprise, Maud burst into tears. Between sobs she told Nancy that she had never intended to carry out her threat. “I don’t know why I did it. Hazel has been very good to me. I guess I’ve just been upset and worried about money ever since my husband’s death.”
Nancy could not help feeling a little sorry for the woman. Nevertheless, she asked, “Do you know anything about the time bomb that was set off in my cottage?”
“No!” Maud looked shocked. Nancy was sure she was telling the truth. “I’ve been jealous of you, Nancy,” she admitted, “but I’d never do anyone physical harm.”
As Maud dried her eyes, Nancy walked toward the desk. Nonchalantly she typed out her name on the typewriter. N-a-n-c-y. All the letters were clearly defined. The suspicious envelopes had definitely not been typed on this machine.
She turned to Maud, wished her good luck in her new position, and left. Then Nancy went downstairs and told Helen, Dick, and the Willoughbys about the letter and her interview with Maud. “I’m convinced that Maud won’t cause any more trouble,” she stated. “And now, if you’ll keep everyone out of earshot of the phone, I’ll call the State Police and suggest they watch for Gay.”
Nancy had just finished her conversation when Maud Potter came downstairs. She looked ashamed, and said she would not accept the check Dick offered her. She asked him to use the money for work on the resort. A few minutes later the ex-director left in a taxi.
Suddenly everyone was startled by Mr. Daly rushing frantically from his office.
“Gracious! What’s the matter?” Mrs. Willoughby asked him.
“My blue pipe’s missing! Has anyone seen it?”
“Do you mean the one you were carving from lilac wood?” Nancy asked.
Mr. Daly nodded, saying he had just completed work on the pipe a few hours ago. He had searched everywhere for it. Although the pipe was of no great value, he had promised it to a friend. No one present had seen the hand-carved piece.
“Why would anyone take it?” Helen puzzled.
At that moment Nancy recalled the wording of Gay’s letter. “Tell him I have a beautiful blue pipe for him.” Could Gay possibly have referred to Mr. Daly’s pipe, and she, or some accomplice, have stolen it for Lillie’s Dad? If so, Gay was certainly familiar with Lilac Inn and its occupants.
At that moment Nancy glanced into the dining room. Jean Holmes was setting tables for supper. Suddenly Nancy had a vivid recollection of the shy waitress staring at Mr. Daly’s pipe while he had been showing it to Nancy. Could Jean have stolen it for Gay? But for what reason?
Saying nothing of her speculations, Nancy asked her friends if the name Lillie Merriweather meant anything to them.
“There’s an actress named Lillie Merriweather,” Helen spoke up. “She plays bit roles on Broadway. I think now she has parts mostly in stock theaters throughout the country.”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Daly. “In fact, I read that she’s with a stock company in Bridgeton, about seventy-five miles from here.”
“Helen, let’s drive to Bridgeton tomorrow!” Nancy proposed excitedly. “I have a hunch Lillie Merriweather can tell us something about the mystery at Lilac Inn!”