Chapter 9 The Clue of the Tapping Heels by Carolyn Keene
Strange Sounds
Led by Nancy, the girls tiptoed up the stairway. They could hear the wailing sound still and felt certain it came from a room at the far end of the upper hall.
“What can it be?” Bess murmured nervously. “No baby would make a cry like that.”
“It sounds more like an animal in distress,” George whispered.
Nancy turned the knob and was astonished to discover that the room was locked.
“Maybe the door is only stuck,” Bess suggested. “Give it a hard jerk.”
“No, it’s locked, all right,” Nancy declared, after she had tried again. “Is anyone inside?” she called.
There was no answer, but in a moment the girls heard the wailing cry once more.
“We simply must get into the room,” Nancy said determinedly.
She tried the key which the landlord had given her but it would not fit.
“Listen!” George commanded suddenly in a startled whisper.
The stairway creaked. Someone was tiptoeing up the steps!
Hurriedly the girls moved into a nearby bedroom, but did not have time to close the door. A man, whose face they could not see, crept noiselessly down the hallway. Warned by some slight sound which Nancy and her chums were unaware they had made, he whirled toward them, whipping out a revolver.
“Hands up!” he ordered sharply.
The chums obeyed, then Nancy began to laugh.
“Detective Keely!” she exclaimed. “My, but you frightened us.”
“Well, how did you get here?” demanded the man in chagrin. “I thought I had captured Fred Bunce.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to search farther,” Nancy replied. “We got a key and came to see if we could find any clues.”
“No luck, I judge?”
“None yet,” Nancy admitted, “but this locked door has us puzzled.”
“What locked door?” the detective asked in surprise.
Nancy indicated the room. At the same time the wailing sound was heard again.
“That’s queer,” the detective commented.
He went down the corridor and boldly tried the door. Satisfied that it was locked, he took a ring of keys from his pocket and patiently tried them one by one. Finally he found one which would turn. He pushed open the door and the group stepped inside.
“The sound has ceased now,” Bess said in disappointment. “But I’m sure it came from this room.”
“It did,” the detective agreed. “I heard it myself.”
The girls looked about them with interest. The room evidently had been used for the storage of odds and ends. There were several pieces of broken furniture, a roll of carpet, and a bundle of faded curtains.
Nancy explored an overturned box containing old rags. With a cry of astonishment she reached down and picked up something soft and fluffy.
“A Persian kitten!” she cried. “And here is another!”
“That explains the whimpering sound, of course,” Bess laughed. “How do you suppose these poor pussies got locked up in this room?”
“Because Mr. and Mrs. Bunce left them here,” Nancy replied, her blue eyes flashing. “The kittens are half starved,” she added, cuddling one to her. “Probably they’ve had nothing to eat or drink since the house was closed.”
“How could anyone be so cruel?” Bess asked indignantly.
“I wonder where the Bunces got these kittens in the first place?” Nancy mused. “They look very much like Miss Carter’s Persians.”
“Yes, they do,” George agreed quickly. “I heard Mrs. Bealing say that her mistress had lost several of her most valuable kittens. She believed that they had run away.”
“I’ll venture to say Fred Bunce took them,” Nancy said, cradling the pets in her arms. “But it’s queer he left them here, for he could have sold them for a good sum of money.”
“He may have gone away in too big a hurry,” Detective Keely remarked. “Either that, or the kittens eluded him.”
“I think a man should be jailed who would leave helpless animals to starve,” Bess said feelingly. “Let’s take the poor things over to Miss Carter’s house right away and give them saucers of milk.”
“Just a minute,” Nancy replied, stooping to look into the box. “We want to be certain there are no others locked in here.”
She pulled the old rags out on the floor, satisfying herself that there were no additional kittens in the place. As she was stuffing the clothing back into the container, she saw a torn scrap of paper lying at her feet. It bore handwriting.
“Detective Keely!” she exclaimed. “This seems to be part of a note. It may have been written by Mr. Bunce!”
“Let me see it,” the detective requested.
Nancy smoothed out the torn message. All save two lines had been destroyed. The words which remained read:
“—got papers from ‘D’ home, hid in tool chest in——”
“Do you suppose the writer refers to our home?” the girl asked excitedly. “ ‘D’ would stand for Drew!”
“That’s just what I was thinking,” the detective nodded, his eyes on the paper. “If Bunce stole the papers from your father’s den, and is the author of this note, he has hidden them in some tool chest.”
“Let’s search the premises,” Nancy proposed, starting toward the door.
Taking the two Persian kittens with them, the girls followed Detective Keely downstairs. They made a thorough inspection of the basement and the garage but no tool box could be found.
“We have a large one at home in our own garage,” Nancy told the detective. “Do you suppose Bunce might have run in there immediately after the robbery and dropped the letters into Dad’s tool chest, intending to get them later?”
“That is a possibility. The man may have been afraid he would be caught with the papers in his possession.”
“As soon as I get home I’ll examine the tool box,” Nancy promised.
Detective Keely kept the torn note for more intensive study, but said that he would be appreciative if the girls would look after the Persian kittens. They promptly carried them over to Miss Carter’s house.
“Where did you find them?” the actress cried in delight. “Of course they belong to me. I lost them last week, and I’ve been fairly ill about it ever since. They are my most valuable kittens.”
Nancy revealed where the animals had been found.
“Then Fred Bunce must have taken them!” Miss Carter declared indignantly. “I recall now that my kittens disappeared following one of his visits.”
Nancy prepared food for the pets. They ate as though they were half starved. After they had satisfied themselves, they curled up close to the actress’s chair and went to sleep.
“I never liked Mr. Bunce,” the woman told the girls, “but I didn’t believe he could be so wicked. He should be punished for his cruelty.”
“Indeed he should,” Nancy agreed. “I believe he will be, too, if Detective Keely succeeds in tracing him.”
Miss Carter was silent a moment. Then she said in a low tone:
“Do you know, I sometimes wonder if he really did go away?”
“Why, what do you mean?” Nancy inquired in surprise. “He and his wife were seen leaving with suitcases.”
“It does seem logical that he left Berryville—and yet I wonder. Someone has been prowling about our house for the past two days and it occurred to me that it might be Bunce.”
“You’ve not seen anyone who resembles him?”
“Last night Mrs. Bealing and I thought we saw a face at the window—we couldn’t be sure.”
“You might have been mistaken,” Nancy suggested.
“Yes, that is true, but we haven’t imagined the tapping noises we heard.”
“Indeed not,” Mrs. Bealing broke into the conversation. “After the lights have been turned out it has been very disturbing. A body would think the house was haunted.”
“Haunted, indeed,” echoed Miss Carter nervously.
“Can’t you localize the sound?” Nancy inquired thoughtfully.
“Sometimes it comes from one place, and then again from another,” the actress declared.
“I searched the house from cellar to attic,” Mrs. Bealing added. “We can’t understand it at all.”
Nancy could offer no explanation, for she too was puzzled by the strange tapping noise. She made up her mind that when she was not so pressed for time she would return and try to solve the mystery. Meanwhile she had important work to do for Detective Keely.
“Don’t allow the sounds to disturb you,” she advised Miss Carter. “Perhaps the wind is rattling a shutter or some loose object.”
The actress smiled and made no reply. It was plain that she did not agree with Nancy. For that matter, the girls were rather inclined to believe that the tapping might have a sinister meaning, but they did not wish to alarm the two women.
“I’ll try to get back tomorrow or the next day,” Nancy promised as she said good-bye to Miss Carter. “Perhaps then we can make a thorough investigation of the house.”