Chapter 9 The Sign of the Twisted Candles by Carolyn Keene
Doubtful Friendship
Mr. Drew said he would meet Nancy downstairs—he wanted to speak to Frank Jemitt before leaving. His daughter lingered to ask Asa Sidney a few questions.
“Please tell me which bedroom you and your wife used to occupy.”
“The master bedroom at the east end of the hall overlooking the driveway.”
“Do the Jemitts use it now?” Nancy queried.
“No, they’ve taken one at the west end. Carol’s is opposite theirs. Mine and two others used to be given to travelers, but no guests have been here for a couple of years. Emma said the place was making enough money without it.”
Nancy made no comment. Instead she asked, “Would there be any special way to identify the hiding places of the articles?”
“Oh yes. By the design of a twisted candle. It is also on boxes and chests.”
“That will make it easy,” Nancy said.
With a sudden feeling of affection and pity for the old man, she kissed him and said good-by, promising to start her search the next day.
At the front porch Nancy came upon another dramatic scene and stepped back a couple of feet into the hall so as not to intrude. Her father was talking to Frank Jemitt, whose back was against an open window in the dining room.
“What was your income from the pastureland last year?” Mr. Drew was saying.
“Only about two hundred dollars.”
“Did you give Mr. Sidney an accounting of it?”
“I spent the money fixing up the place.”
“In general repairs to the building, or in the restaurant equipment?” Mr. Drew asked.
“I—I forget,” Jemitt said, wiping his brow. “General repairs, of course. Sure, that’s right.”
“The house hasn’t been painted,” Mr. Drew commented. “The grounds are in bad shape. What improvements did you make?”
“Say, I’m not on the witness stand!” Jemitt snarled. “I’m not going to answer questions you got no business asking. If you think there’s anything crooked going on, maybe you’re right. Keep an eye on those two guys who were here this morning.”
Nancy had stood so quietly that she had not been noticed by Mrs. Jemitt, who had sneaked in from the kitchen. The woman cautiously took up a position at the window near her husband.
As Mr. Drew paced up and down the porch, Mrs. Jemitt, using the drapery for concealment, whispered something to Mr. Jemitt. He slyly pulled a long envelope from beneath his jacket and held it behind him. His wife’s hand reached out and took it.
“Yes, Mr. Drew,” Jemitt went on, “and what’s more I think each one of those fellows suspects the other of sneaking things out of this house.”
Nancy stepped softly from the hall and walked up behind Mrs. Jemitt, who smiled as she glanced at the letter, then turned noiselessly away. On her face was a look of secret triumph, but the expression was quickly wiped away as Nancy confronted her.
“What do you want?” the woman snapped.
“Nothing at all,” Nancy said with an innocent air. “I was just looking for an envelope— Oh, you’ve found it, haven’t you?”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Jemitt replied, concealing the envelope beneath her apron. “This is for me and it just came in the morning mail.”
“Perhaps you made a mistake?” Nancy remarked. “May I look at the address?”
“You may not,” Mrs. Jemitt retorted. “I guess a body has a right to some privacy in her own house, even if it is open to the public.”
She brushed past Nancy, only to meet Mr. Drew. Attracted by the sharp voices, he had entered the room to investigate.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked.
“No trouble at all, thank you,” Mrs. Jemitt said. “Just a little misunderstanding.”
Nancy spoke up. “I happened to see Mr. Jemitt pass an envelope through the window to his wife, and thought it might—er—be for Mr. Sidney.”
Her announcement took Mrs. Jemitt completely by surprise. In her agitation she dropped the envelope, and Nancy swiftly scooped it up.
“There is a misunderstanding,” she said. “This letter is for Mr. Sidney.”
“I was just going to take it up to the old gentleman,” the woman said.
“Then I apologize for detaining you.” Nancy smiled. “I see it’s from the Midwestern Mining Company.”
Without another word Mrs. Jemitt took it and hurried upstairs. Nancy, with a wink at her father, followed to be sure it was delivered.
When she came down, Mr. Drew said, “My business here is finished. Let’s go!”
As they walked to the car, he continued, “You’ve just given me some very valuable information, Nancy. Among Mr. Sidney’s assets are shares of stock in the mining company. The old man thought they were worthless because he had received no dividends in several years.
“I promised to investigate,” the lawyer said, “because I have some of that stock myself and it pays well. I’m sure that envelope contained a dividend check because I’ve just received one.”
“Then you suspect the Jemitts of taking Mr. Sidney’s dividend checks and forging the endorsements on them?” Nancy asked as they rode along.
“I’m afraid so,” Mr. Drew replied. “It will take time to prove it, though.”
“While you’re doing that,” said Nancy, “I’ll start my search in the house for cupboards marked with the sign of a twisted candle.” She slid into the driver’s seat.
Mr. Drew got out of the car at his office. Nancy, excited by the prospect of going back to the Sidney mansion with Bess and George, went directly to the Marvin home. To her dismay, she saw Peter Boonton’s car at the curb.
“Oh dear! I don’t want to meet him,” she thought. “Maybe I’d better drive over to the Faynes’ and see if George is there.”
As she sat debating, Nancy suddenly saw George look out a window directly at her. To Nancy’s surprise George did not wave; just stared, then moved out of sight.
“How strange!” Nancy thought. “Something seems to be on George’s mind. I’m sure she saw me.”
Nancy decided to try seeing the girls, anyway, and tell them of Asa Sidney’s request. She walked to the door.
Bess answered the bell. “Hello, Nancy,” she said, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “Great-Uncle Peter’s inside. I hear you were at The Sign of the Twisted Candles again today.”
Nancy nodded. “That’s what I want to talk to you about, Bess. Call George, will you? I have some exciting things to tell you, and we must go out there tomorrow.”
“Oh, I don’t think I care to come,” Bess replied. “And I’m sure George wouldn’t be interested, either.”
Nancy flushed with disappointment and embarrassment at Bess’s cool retort.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said with a lump in her throat. “Dad has been retained as Mr. Sidney’s lawyer, and I’ve been given a job too. Some problems have come up. We’d have fun tackling them together.”
“Oh, so your father is really taking sides in the case, is he?” Bess asked frigidly. “I’m sorry, Nancy, but I must go back inside.”
Stung by the snub, Nancy ran to her car and drove away, tears brimming in her eyes. What sinister influence in the bitter Boonton-Sidney feud had brought Bess and George to a point of breaking off a lovely friendship?
Nancy drove on and on, lost in thought. Suddenly she realized that the road she had subconsciously chosen led to the Sidney mansion.
“Maybe fate is steering me back there,” the young sleuth told herself.
When she arrived at the turn and walked in, no one was around. The Jemitts’ car was gone. When Carol did not come out to greet Nancy, apprehension seized her. Had something happened?
She shook off the feeling and ascended the stairs. After all, she had a right to be here—this was a public restaurant. At the top of the stairway she met Carol.
“Nancy!” the girl cried. “Oh, I’m so glad you came back. I have something marvelous to tell you. Right after you left I heard Mr. Sidney’s bell ring and rushed up there. He said he’d asked you, Bess, George, and me to do some searching, but that you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, so he wanted me to start. The Jemitts have gone to town.
“Mr. Sidney remembered a false drawer in the bottom of a bureau in the empty master bedroom and had me look there. What do you think I found?”
“Clothes?”
“No.”
“Jewelry?”
“You’re getting warm. Nancy, it was a diamond bracelet!”