Chapter 8 The Clue of the Tapping Heels by Carolyn Keene
The Flight
“Not coming back!” Nancy echoed in amazement. “Surely Mr. and Mrs. Bunce wouldn’t go away and leave all their furniture.”
“Oh, it doesn’t belong to them,” the boy returned. “They rented this place furnished. I heard the landlord say they had damaged a lot of stuff too.”
As Nancy and Ned returned to the car, the girl remarked with a frown, “Well, this certainly throws a different light on the situation. Bunce must be guilty of something or he wouldn’t have skipped out.”
“Didn’t you say your father was taking action against him?” Ned asked.
“Yes, I suspect the man ran away to avoid giving an accounting of Gussie’s money. I must telephone Dad at once.”
At a drug store Nancy made use of a public telephone.
“There’s no question but that Bunce left Berryville to avoid trouble,” Mr. Drew told his daughter after he had heard of the situation. “Papers were served on him last night.”
“What will happen now, Dad?” Nancy inquired anxiously.
“We’ll have to postpone everything until the man can be located.”
“I doubt that he’ll ever come back to Berryville.”
“No, not unless we bring him forcibly. The thing to do is to put a detective on his trail. Stephan Keely is just the man for the case.”
Nancy was well acquainted with the detective to whom her father referred, for he often did work for Mr. Drew. She felt that if anyone could trace Fred Bunce he would be the person who would be able to do it.
“Keely is in the office now,” Mr. Drew continued. “I’ll speak to him. Hold the wire, please.”
There was a brief wait. Then the lawyer told Nancy that Keely had agreed to take the case. He would drive immediately to Berryville.
“I’d like to have you wait for him,” Mr. Drew instructed his daughter. “Tell him everything you know about Fred Bunce and introduce him to Miss Carter, who may be able to give him helpful information.”
“I’ll wait at her home,” Nancy promised her father.
She and Ned were watching the road when the detective’s coupe drove up. Before escorting the man into the house they told him everything they knew about the case.
“I’ll take you now to see Miss Carter,” Nancy declared. “She is rather sensitive about her financial reverses and doesn’t wish anyone to learn that she was once a well-known actress with a large income.”
“I’ll be careful in questioning her,” the detective promised. “Her secret is perfectly safe with me.”
“Miss Carter really is a dear, but so impractical,” Nancy went on. “Mrs. Bealing told me that she is supporting a young actress named Beverly Barrett. She sends money to the girl to live in style while she herself hardly has the barest necessities of life.”
“I should think the girl would be ashamed to take the money,” Ned commented.
“Miss Carter has led Miss Barrett to believe that she is in comfortable circumstances. When the girl writes for money the woman is too proud to tell her the truth about how poor she really is.”
“It looks as if the charming Lady Violette is too kind-hearted for her own good,” Ned replied. “She needs someone to watch out for her interests.”
Miss Carter was expecting the detective. After Nancy had presented him, the woman answered his questions to the best of her ability. She really knew very little about Bunce or his wife, and had no idea where they might have gone. Stephan Keely finally left the house without gaining even one worth-while clue.
In company with Nancy and Ned, the man next visited the landlord of the vacated house. Again they met disappointment, for the owner could give them no definite information about his tenants who had left so unexpectedly.
“I’d like to find Fred Bunce myself,” he said irritably. “He ran off owing me rent for two weeks, and the interior of the house is a wreck. I’ll have to redecorate the whole place before I can offer it to another tenant.”
Detective Keely refused to be discouraged. “I’ll trace the man if it takes me a year,” he said cheerfully. “I’m only starting my work.”
It was growing late, so Nancy and Ned bade the detective good-bye, leaving him to interview other persons who had known Gussie’s guardian.
“I wish we had asked the landlord for permission to go into the vacant house,” Nancy remarked regretfully as the two drove to River Heights. “It’s possible we might find letters or something of the sort there which would reveal where Bunce went.”
“Yes, I should think it would be worth while to search the place,” Ned agreed. “Speaking of letters, your father never found those which were stolen, did he?”
Nancy shook her head.
“No, and that’s another reason why I’d like to prowl around in the house. I have an idea that Bunce may have been the thief.”
“If he did take the letters one would think he’d be smart enough to destroy them.”
“Yes, but remember that he and his wife left in a great hurry. In that case Bunce might have overlooked them, although I’ll admit that possibility is pretty slim.”
Nancy made up her mind that she would return to Berryville the following day and get permission to search the vacant house. Later that evening she telephoned Bess and George to ask if they would accompany her.
“Of course we’ll go,” George declared enthusiastically after hearing Nancy’s request. “We’ll do everything we can to help you. And it’ll be fun, besides. I love poking around for things.”
The next morning dawned dark and gloomy. Undismayed by a prospect of rain, the girls set off soon after breakfast. Before they reached the home of Bunce’s landlord it had started to drizzle.
“You girls wait here while I run in to get the key,” Nancy suggested when they arrived. “I hope the man will give it to me!”
She was back in a few minutes, smiling, and waving the desired article. “Success!” she laughed.
Inside the vacant house everything was in disorder and it was evident that the Bunces had departed in great haste. Papers were scattered on the floor. In the kitchen food remained on the shelves and some of it was spoiling.
“I don’t blame the landlord for being indignant,” Nancy said as she glanced around. “It will take a lot of work to put this place in livable condition again.”
The girls set themselves to the task of searching through desks, bookcases and buffet drawers. They found many old letters and papers, but nothing to give any clue as to where Fred Bunce might have fled.
“The man probably took pains to destroy every scrap of evidence,” Nancy remarked.
Suddenly, before Bess or George could find time to reply, the three girls were startled to hear a plaintive cry. It seemed to come from one of the upstairs rooms.
Bess clutched Nancy’s hand very nervously. “What was that?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” her chum admitted.
“It sounded almost like a baby,” George declared in awe.
“Yes, it did,” Nancy agreed. “But how could a baby get into the house? The place has been locked up ever since Bunce and his wife went away.”
“I don’t believe a baby could make such a wail as that,” Bess insisted. “Let’s get away from here.”
“No, wait,” Nancy pleaded.
The girls remained motionless, listening. In a moment the strange cry was repeated. This time they were certain it came from somewhere above them.
“I’m going up to investigate!” declared Nancy.