Chapter 21 The Whispering Statue by Carolyn Keene
INSIDE THE OLD HOUSE
After the truck had left, Nancy went immediately to the side door of the old house. She was disappointed to find it locked.
“I’m afraid Miss Morse has left,” the girl thought. “She probably returned to Sea Cliff a whole hour ago.”
To make certain that no one was inside, Nancy pounded upon the panel. The sound was scarcely audible above the wild roar of the sea. The wind too was rising, and as the Drew girl cast a quick glance upward at the swiftly moving clouds, she feared that the predicted storm might break at any minute.
Thinking that it would be well to test the other doors, Nancy made a tour of the mansion. She was unable to reach the rear porch for the tide was high, and angry waves were lapping over the sagging floor boards.
“I don’t believe the house will be standing by tomorrow,” Nancy reflected. “Mr. Albin was probably right. One storm will finish it.”
She stood staring up at the dark structure, thinking what a pity it was that the building now was doomed. No amount of money could save it, for it had been neglected too many years. But the furnishings might be salvaged if only someone would go to the trouble of doing it.
“No one cares except Mr. Albin,” Nancy decided, “and the administrator of the estate will not listen to him.”
Regretfully she turned away. Had it been possible for her to enter the house, Nancy would have tried to save the ship model for the old gentleman. The only way she could figure how to get inside was to smash a window.
Nancy had walked only a few paces when suddenly she halted. She had heard footsteps. Noiselessly the girl slipped back behind a tall shrub.
A figure came slowly toward the house. It was Joe Mitza.
Glancing neither to right nor to left, the man walked directly to the side door. Taking a key from his pocket he fitted it into the lock.
“Where did he get that?” the girl speculated. “Miss Morse must have given it to him. But how was she able to obtain it?”
Nancy decided to secure answers to some of the questions which perplexed her. After Mitza had entered the house she did not hesitate to follow him.
After waiting for several minutes, she cautiously opened the door a tiny crack. To her astonishment she heard the faint murmur of voices within.
“Miss Morse must be there after all!” she thought. “Either she didn’t hear my knock or else she chose to ignore it.”
From the sound of the voices Nancy judged that probably the couple were in the living room at the far end of the house. Cautiously she let herself into the dark hallway.
Three steps led upward to a narrow landing. There Nancy paused again to listen and to make certain that no sound had betrayed her to Joe Mitza and Miss Morse. The couple were too engrossed in their talk to suspect that any other person had entered the place. Although the steady murmur of their voices reached Nancy, she was unable to distinguish what was being said.
She moved noiselessly into the room to her right. It appeared to be old Mr. Conger’s den, for the walls were lined with book shelves filled with moldy volumes. The rich, heavy carpet over which she trod had been riddled by moths and beetles. Nothing in the room seemed to have been touched by any human hand since the day when the place had been boarded up. Only time had left its marks. Dust lay everywhere.
As Nancy’s eyes adjusted themselves to the darkness, she distinguished an elaborate marble mantel at the far end of the room. Just above it there stood a striking model of a ship.
Nancy was certain it must be the hand-wrought brig of which Mr. Albin had spoken, for she had never seen a more perfect piece. She ran her palm over the structure, and found it to be well preserved despite the adverse conditions to which it had been exposed.
“I must try to save it for Mr. Albin,” she told herself.
However, for the moment she allowed the ship to remain where it had been standing for so many years. Leaving the den, Nancy walked through another hallway, which was a passage leading to the living room.
She was now close enough to Joe Mitza and Miss Morse to realize that they were embroiled in a bitter argument. It was not a surprise to her to learn that it concerned the packet of money which Mitza had dropped in the garden.
“I thought you would take a sensible attitude about things, Miss Morse,” Mitza said irritably. “I tried my best to keep our agreement. I swear I brought the money here tonight, but I dropped the roll of bills in the garden. When I went back to look for it it was gone.”
“Such a story sounds very unlikely to me,” Miss Morse replied tartly. “You can’t expect me to turn over my five thousand dollars unless you put up a similar amount.”
“I’m telling you the honest truth. As I was standing in the garden I heard a voice distinctly whisper, ‘Keep away!’ It seemed to come from the marble statue.”
“Bosh! I don’t believe such tommyrot!”
“Whether you do or not, that’s how I lost the money,” Mitza muttered angrily. “I’d have brought another five thousand with me, only the banks are closed. You give me your share tonight, and in the morning I’ll put up my part even if I have to borrow it.”
“I think I’ll keep my money until I see the color of yours,” the old woman replied stubbornly.
“I don’t believe you have five thousand dollars,” Mitza said crossly. “You’ve been stringing me along.”
“Yes, I have the money,” the old woman insisted. “Right here in my purse.”
A little silence fell between the two, both of them hostile and calculating. Each was trying to size up the other. It seemed to Nancy as she viewed Joe Mitza’s grim face in the candlelight that he was considering the possibility of taking the money forcibly from Miss Morse. The old woman appeared to divine the thought too, for instinctively she retreated a step.
The Drew girl gave the man no opportunity to carry out his evil intent. Unexpectedly she stepped from the hall into the living room and moved into the circle of light.
Miss Morse, taken completely by surprise, cried out in alarm.
“Don’t be afraid, Miss Morse,” said the girl quietly. “I am a friend, and I have come to help you. My name is Nancy Drew.”