Chapter 18 The Whispering Statue by Carolyn Keene
A RENDEZVOUS
Nancy crouched behind the Whispering Girl statue, wondering what had brought Miss Morse to the Conger estate. The old lady carried the suitcase which the girls had left earlier in the day at the railroad station checkroom. She appeared very tired as if she had walked from Sea Cliff. While still some distance from the garden she set the bag down and leaned wearily against a tree trunk.
“She’s here to meet someone,” Nancy reasoned as she saw the old woman glance at her watch. “I wonder if it can be Mitza.”
After a few minutes Miss Morse arose. Picking up the bag, the woman trudged on toward the house. She glanced casually toward the statue behind which Nancy crouched, then looked away.
The mysterious person walked around to a side door, and for a moment was out of view. Nancy daringly emerged from her hiding place and moved forward far enough so that she might obtain a glimpse of the woman again.
The side door stood slightly ajar. Miss Morse evidently had entered the house.
“Now how did she get inside?” Nancy speculated. “I know that door was locked. She must have found a key.”
The girl was debating whether or not to follow the woman inside, when she was startled to hear footsteps. Someone was coming up the road.
Barely in time to escape detection, Nancy darted back behind the group of statues. Joe Mitza suddenly came into view. He walked hurriedly, as if late for an appointment.
“I was right!” Nancy thought triumphantly. “I’ve either interrupted an important rendezvous or am about to witness one!”
The girl had no intention of letting Miss Morse become the innocent victim of Mitza’s fraudulent scheme, and would do all she could to prevent it. If only she might go after the police! She knew there was not time for that. Before she would have a chance to return with the officers Mitza doubtless would have obtained the woman’s five thousand dollars.
The man had paused not far from the garden. Nancy saw him remove a package of money from his pocket and count it hurriedly.
“He’s here to meet Miss Morse, all right,” she reflected. “Oh, I can’t let him succeed in his wicked plan.”
For an instant Nancy was tempted to step out and confront the trickster, but her good judgment told her she would not accomplish anything that way. Should it come to an argument, she could not depend upon Miss Morse to stand by her, for the peculiar old lady seemed to be of a contrary disposition. It would be quite in keeping with her strange character, Nancy thought, to side with Mitza.
“If I do save that five thousand dollars for her I’ll have to do so in spite of Miss Morse, rather than with her help,” she reflected.
Nancy was sorely puzzled as to what course to follow, when suddenly an idea came to her. She would frighten the man by whispering to him a warning which would appear to come from the marble statue!
The daring girl realized that the scheme could fail. Mitza might decide to investigate, in which case she would be discovered. The trick was worth trying, however.
“I’ll be aided by the gathering darkness and the roar of the ocean,” she thought. “The setting is almost perfect for the ‘Whispering Girl’ to speak.”
Nancy wrapped her white dress closer about her so that the wind could not whip it into view. Then she began to moan softly, trying to blend the weird sound with the soughing of the wind in the pine boughs overhead.
Joe Mitza stood perfectly still and turned his eyes toward the marble statue. He listened intently.
“K-e-e-p a-w-a-y,” Nancy whispered warningly. “K-e-e-p a-w-a-y.”
Joe Mitza fingered the roll of bills nervously. Nancy knew from the expression on his face that he had heard the words. She could see him straining his ears in an attempt to hear the statue speak again. His lips moved slightly as he muttered something to himself.
“He can’t make up his mind whether he actually heard the warning or not,” she thought with a chuckle.
Nancy bided her time and waited until she saw that Mitza was convinced his ears had tricked him. With a shrug of his shoulders he turned toward the house.
“K-e-e-p a-w-a-y,” Nancy whispered again in the same mournful tone. “K-e-e-p a-w-a-y.”
This time Mitza knew that he had not imagined hearing the voice. He wheeled about, and with a gasp of fear turned and bolted down the road. In his haste he dropped the packet of money and did not stop to retrieve it.
Nancy leaned weakly against the statue and laughed softly to herself. Quickly she smothered her merriment as a man’s curt voice rang out through the trees:
“There he goes! After him, men!”
She heard a great crackling of the underbrush and saw several shadowy figures emerge from the shrubbery along the road as they took up pursuit after Joe Mitza.
“Police officers!” Nancy thought in astonishment. “They must have followed him to Old Estate and been lying in wait.”
A stick broke sharply just behind Nancy. She sprang backwards, it startled her so, but she laughed in relief as she saw Bess and George.
“Oh, Nancy, come away quickly before we’re seen,” the latter pleaded. “This is no place for us. We’ve run into some sort of police ambush, I think, and we might be arrested as suspicious persons.”
“Did you see a man running down the road?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, he acted as if he were frightened half out of his wits,” Bess returned nervously, plucking at her chum’s sleeve in an effort to pull her toward the sheltering woods. “George and I saw everything. A police car drove up and the officers hid along the shrubbery. Then this man came running down the private road and they started to chase him.”
“He was Mitza,” Nancy supplied. “I hope the police captured him.”
“They didn’t,” George answered. “The fellow escaped into the woods.”
“Do come away, Nancy,” Bess insisted fearfully. “Listen to the wind howl! It sounds as if ghosts were talking, and I’m afraid.”
“Silly,” Nancy laughed. “No, I’m not ready to leave just yet. First I must find the roll of money Mitza dropped when I frightened him.”
“So you were responsible?” George demanded. “I might have guessed it. What did you do?”
“Oh, nothing much. I just whispered a warning from behind this statue.”
“Some day you’ll be a bit too daring,” Bess said severely. “Please, let’s leave.”
“You may go if you wish, but I intend to find the money Mitza dropped when he fled.”
Nancy began to grope about the place where the man had stood. It was now so dark that she could not see very plainly. Overhead black clouds were rolling menacingly. Rain might begin to fall at any minute. Bess and George joined their chum in the search, and almost at once the latter found the roll of paper money which she gave to Nancy.
“There must be a fortune here!” George gasped in awe. “What will you do with it, Nancy?”
“Oh, give it to the police, or else throw it away.”
“Throw it away?” George echoed in a shocked tone.
“The money is worthless. I can tell by the feel of the paper that it’s all fake stuff.”
“Mitza must have intended to exchange it for Miss Morse’s genuine money,” Bess murmured. “You ruined his little game, Nancy.”
“For the time being, but he may try the same trick later on. That’s why I must go into the house and warn Miss Morse.”
“You’d not enter that spooky old place now that it’s so dark?” Bess asked incredulously. “Let’s go back to the car, Nancy.”
“You and George go. It will take me only a minute to talk to Miss Morse.”
“The house is dreadfully quiet,” Bess said. “I don’t believe anyone is inside.”
“You’re just saying that so I’ll not enter the place,” Nancy smiled. “Unless Miss Morse has vanished into thin air she’s still there, and I intend to talk with her.”
Bess and George realized that their chum’s mind was made up. They offered rather halfheartedly to accompany her if she insisted, but Nancy said that she preferred to go alone.
“Wait in the car for me,” she told them. “I’ll join you just as soon as I can.”
“Please be careful, Nancy,” George warned her friend anxiously as she and Bess reluctantly turned away.
“There’s no danger with Mitza gone,” the Drew girl replied carelessly. “Now try not to worry, for I promise you no big bad ghost will get me.”
Smiling to herself, Nancy slipped the packet of money into her dress and moved swiftly toward the gloomy old mansion.