Chapter 6 The Sign of the Twisted Candles by Carolyn Keene
An Important Errand
Nancy urged Carol to talk quickly before they might be interrupted.
The girl seemed hesitant to say more. “Oh, Nancy, I wish I were as smart as you. Everything seems so clear to you. To me it’s all a muddle.”
“Nonsense,” Nancy replied. “Just tell me whatever comes into your mind.”
“All right. But it’s difficult. Maybe I’d better talk about myself first. I’m an orphan—I guess you gathered that from what Mother Jemitt said. I know nothing about my parents. I was found in a church when I was two years old. The authorities couldn’t locate any of my family, so I was sent to an orphanage. I lived there until I was ten years old when the Jemitts took me.
“I’ve worked hard for them. Every day after school I would come home to find dishes and clothes piled up for me to wash. As soon as the law allowed me to leave school they made me stay home. Mr. Sidney urged them to let me go on, but they wouldn’t do it. I don’t think I owe the Jemitts anything. I’ve paid my way.
“Mr. Sidney was always nice to me, but after the Jemitts practically forced him to stay in the tower by telling him he wasn’t well and that he’d fall if he tried to come downstairs, they began to make me work harder and never let me go anywhere.”
“That’s a shame,” said Nancy. “Was it after Mr. Sidney stayed upstairs that you first suspected Mr. Jemitt of not being fair?”
“Yes.”
Carol, warmed by the new friendship, leaned toward Nancy, her eyes round with excitement. “I’m pretty sure that Father Jemitt is robbing Mr. Sidney. I’ve seen him sneaking around mysteriously and going to town with packages. After that he suddenly seems to have a lot of money, much more than this restaurant brings in. Of course I—”
“That’s very interesting,” Nancy said loudly. “Once we had some baby robins in a vine outside a bedroom window, too. Do you have many wrens?”
Carol’s mouth opened wide in astonishment.
“Good morning, miss!” said a man’s voice.
Carol gulped. The voice was that of Frank Jemitt, and at once she understood why Nancy had suddenly interrupted her conversation with the strange remark about birds.
“Have you been served?” Jemitt asked, approaching the table. “Carol, get up and bring the young lady a glass of water!”
“Oh, please don’t bother.” Nancy smiled, restraining Carol. “I wasn’t planning to eat lunch so early.”
Jemitt pulled a chair from an adjoining table and prepared to join the conversation.
“You live hereabouts?” he asked Nancy.
“In River Heights,” she answered. “I came back this morning with my father, whom Mr. Sidney wished to consult.”
“Oh, are you Dr. Crosby’s daughter?” Jemitt asked. “I knew he had a beautiful daughter, but I didn’t dream—”
“I don’t know Dr. Crosby,” Nancy put in. “My father is Carson Drew.”
Frank Jemitt’s face turned a shade paler, and he swallowed heavily.
“Carson Drew—he’s upstairs?” he asked.
“Yes, he’s been there for over an hour now,” Nancy replied coolly. “It must be an important consultation.”
“I’m sure it can’t be—I mean yes, it must be,” Jemitt stammered, rising hurriedly. “Er—excuse me.” The agitated man fled from the room.
Nancy watched his retreat with amusement. She wondered if he was a thief, and perhaps afraid Mr. Sidney had discovered that he was dishonest and was going to take action?
“I never saw Father Jemitt so upset,” Carol commented. “He seems to be scared of your father.”
“Which would confirm your suspicions and mine,” Nancy remarked. “I think I’ll keep an eye on Mr. Jemitt.”
“Oh dear! I’ve talked too much.” Carol sighed. “Maybe I’m all wrong.”
At that moment Nancy heard her father’s footsteps on the stairway. She arose and hurried to the hall.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
“No,” Mr. Drew replied. “Mr. Sidney’s case is strange and complicated. After what I’ve heard, I shall not leave this house until the document is witnessed by someone competent to stand up under a grueling trial in court.”
He went into the hall telephone booth and made a call. Nancy saw him frown, and in a minute came out, looking disappointed.
“The man I want to reach will be out for half an hour. I didn’t want to give the message to anyone else. Nancy, I guess you’ll have to help me. Speed is essential. Will you drive to the Smith’s Ferry branch of the River Heights National Bank and ask for Mr. Hill—Raymond Hill? He’s the executive vice president.
“Tell Mr. Hill I want him to come back here with you to witness an important document. I’m well acquainted with him, and I’m sure he will grant me this favor. Remember, the sooner you get back with him the better.”
“I’ll go at once,” Nancy replied, excited by the new element of mystery.
She ran back to the table and told Carol that she had to go on an important errand for her father, but that she would return shortly.
As Nancy was talking, she saw the swinging door which led to the kitchen move slightly. Someone was listening.
“I think I’ll go out this way, it’s shorter,” she said abruptly, skipping across to the kitchen door and suddenly pushing it ajar. As she had expected, the door did not open far, and there was a muttered exclamation from behind it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I hit somebody?” Nancy asked.
Mrs. Jemitt was revealed, looking rather dazed and rubbing her ear. “No, not much,” she said sarcastically.
The woman wheeled about, darted through the kitchen, and vanished into the garden. Nancy was at her heels, but Mr. Drew called her back.
“You were a little too fast for me.” He smiled. “I just wanted to tell you that Peter Boonton and Jacob Sidney, the two men you told me about, are coming here this morning. We want the will signed and witnessed before they arrive. That’s the reason I’m asking for the greatest possible speed.”
Nancy nodded and left the house. She saw Jemitt, who seemed to be having difficulty starting his automobile. His wife, her back to Nancy, was beside the car talking and gesticulating violently to him.
“She’s probably telling him about my errand,” Nancy thought, “so I must hurry. On the other hand, I may never have another opportunity to look at that buried box. I must find out if it belongs to Asa Sidney.”
Out of sight of the Jemitts, she ran to the barn. It took only a moment to roll away the logs in the improvised woodpile and uncover what Jemitt had buried underneath.
“If it’s what I think, I’m sure Dad would want me to take the chest to the bank,” the young sleuth told herself.
The loose dirt was easy to brush aside, and anxiety gave Nancy added strength. She saw at a glance that the chest was indeed the one with the carved twisted candles, and marked Private property of Asa Sidney. She lifted it out.
Lugging the heavy ebony and brass chest, Nancy went around the far corner of the house and climbed into her car. She started the motor, locked the doors, and sped off.
The highway ahead was clear. Nancy glanced into her rear-vision mirror to see if anyone was on the road behind. What she had feared was true. Frank Jemitt’s big car had lurched into the road and was roaring after her!
“Does he know where I’m going, and why?” she thought.
Jemitt’s car, although left behind by Nancy’s first burst of speed, began to crawl up.
“There’s no doubt about it, he’s after me,” Nancy told herself. “Either he’s going to prevent my bringing Mr. Hill, or force me to give up the stolen chest!”