Chapter 2 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
A Secret Panel
Nancy wheeled about and caught a fleeting glimpse of a long row of brass buttons down the front of a man’s coat. The next instant the panel had closed.
In her excitement the girl’s hand brushed over the piano keys. A weird crash of chords broke the eerie stillness of the cottage.
Usually steady of nerve, Nancy tried to be calm but her heart thumped madly. Deciding it might be dangerous to investigate the cottage further at this time, she hastily left the studio. Once outside, she gazed about the grounds, but no one was in sight.
“I’m glad Trixie didn’t come with me,” she said to herself. “I’ve never believed in ghosts and I refuse to do so now. All the same, something is very wrong at this place.”
Always of an inquiring turn of mind, Nancy nevertheless understood the wisdom of using caution in any investigation she might attempt. Nothing intrigued her more than a mystery. At River Heights where she had lived since her mother’s death, the Drew girl had won an enviable record as an amateur detective, solving such cases as “The Secret of the Old Clock” and “The Mystery of the Brass Bound Trunk.”
In her quest for clues she frequently was assisted by her father, Carson Drew, who was a well-known criminal lawyer, or by her chums, Bess Marvin and George Fayne. The latter always enjoyed the surprise people registered when they heard her boyish name. Recently the three girls had shared an exciting adventure when they had visited a secluded Moss-Covered Mansion. Not only did they solve the mystery of various strange sounds which issued from the quaint old dwelling, but they were responsible for the recovery of a missing person.
Now as Nancy stared moodily at the Ship Cottage, she wished that Bess and George were with her to talk things over. Why had the piano made no sound when first her fingers had moved over the keys?
“It wasn’t imagination,” she mused. “At first it didn’t play, then for no reason at all, it did!”
Just then the girl heard her name called. Turning, she saw Ellen motioning to her from far up the path.
“Coming!” Nancy answered.
“I’m ready to leave whenever you are,” Ellen announced, joining her new friend. “What became of Trixie?”
“She ran off.”
“An impossible child, isn’t she?”
“Oh, I rather like her,” Nancy declared with sincerity. “I can’t say as much for her mother.”
“Nor I. She speaks so harshly to her daughter, and then the next minute she is as sweet as honey. I can’t understand her.”
“You’ve decided not to come here for the summer, I hope?”
“Mrs. Chatham offered me a very good salary, so I told her I would think it over a few days.”
“I’ve been considering the matter,” Nancy said slowly. “There’s something about Rocky Edge I don’t quite like. I wish you wouldn’t come here—at least not until we’ve made a complete investigation of the place.”
“Why, Nancy!” Ellen stared at the girl in astonishment. “You speak so seriously! Have you learned anything about Mrs. Chatham?”
“Not a thing,” Nancy answered truthfully. “It’s mostly a feeling I have. I’ll explain it later. When must you give your answer?”
“Mrs. Chatham didn’t say, but I imagine she’d want to know soon.”
During the ride into the city Ellen, sensing that her friend was keeping information from her, sought to draw her out. Smilingly, Nancy refused to divulge what she had learned.
“I’ll tell my secret when you tell yours,” she joked. “But seriously, please don’t accept Mrs. Chatham’s offer until after I talk with Dad.”
“All right, I won’t,” Ellen promised.
Nancy took the girl to a bus which would carry her back to the Music College, then drove to her father’s office. Although he was unusually busy, the man laid aside his papers, kissed his daughter affectionately, and listened attentively to her tale about the mysterious Ship Cottage.
“You’re certain you saw the panel open and close, and heard the warning?” he asked when she had finished the story.
“Yes, I did, Dad. Also, the piano was mute at first. Then later it played. How do you account for such happenings?”
“I can’t,” replied the lawyer soberly. “However, I am sure of one thing. You must not go there again.”
“Oh, Dad!” Nancy protested in dismay. “How can I help Ellen?”
“Well, don’t go alone,” he amended, flashing her an understanding smile. “You’re all I have, Nancy, and I can’t have you taking unnecessary risks.”
“You believe it would be unwise for Ellen to accept Mrs. Chatham’s offer?”
“I should say it would be most unwise until we’ve checked the place thoroughly.”
“I had hoped you might be able to tell me something about it, Dad.”
Mr. Drew gazed out of the window for several seconds. Then he said slowly, “It seems to me I do recall some trouble a few years ago at Rocky Edge. But that would have been before the Chathams bought it.”
“Who owned it?” asked Nancy.
“I can’t remember the name of the man,” her father answered, “but I think he was an inventor and there was a strange lawsuit against him, due to one of his gadgets. As soon as I can, I’ll look into the matter for you.”
“I wonder if there might be some connection between the gadgets and the strange things that happened today,” suggested Nancy.
“I don’t know. It seems to me Mr. Chatham was a friend of the owner and bought the place after the man died. Mr. Chatham himself passed away less than two years ago. He had lived on the estate only a short time.”
Nancy was silent a moment, then asked her father what she should tell Ellen.
“Advise her to stall,” Carson Drew responded promptly.
The Drew girl decided that instead of telephoning to Ellen she would drive the next afternoon to Blackstone Music College. The talented young woman was to take part in a recital and Nancy was eager to hear her sing. She invited her chums, Bess and George, to accompany her.
“We seem to be late,” George remarked as the group entered the college auditorium. “Nearly all the seats are taken.”
“We’ll squeeze in somewhere,” declared Nancy cheerfully. “I see two places down front where the performers are seated.”
She induced George and Bess to go forward and take the vacant places, asking them to introduce themselves to Ellen Smith afterward and tell her the Drew girl was there. As Nancy’s gaze roved over the audience she saw Mrs. Chatham, half-hidden beneath an enormous picture hat, near the rear of the auditorium. There was an empty chair beside the woman. Impulsively the girl made her way to it.
“Are you saving this seat, Mrs. Chatham?” she asked politely.
The woman shook her head slightly. The next moment, recognizing the newcomer, she beamed upon the girl as if she were an old friend. Thus encouraged, Nancy began a conversation which she adroitly steered in the direction she wished it to take. By declaring that she had found Rocky Edge picturesque, she induced the widow to reveal that the property originally had been purchased by Mr. Chatham from the estate of an inventor.
“We have found a few ingenious gadgets of his in the house,” she said lightly.
Tucking this interesting bit of information away for future consideration, Nancy next inquired if Mr. Chatham ever had collected ship models.
“Oh, dear, no, the ship models I have belonged to my first husband,” Mrs. Chatham responded with a pensive sigh. “He was such a good, kind man. It made me so sad to see those darling little boats in the house that I asked Mr. Chatham to move them to the studio.”
Nancy watched the widow’s face closely.
“Do you frequently go there?” she inquired casually. “To the studio, I mean?”
“Oh, no, almost never.”
“I suppose it was built by your husband?”
“Indeed not,” the widow corrected. “It was on the property when we took over the place.”
Nancy would have asked additional questions had not the orchestra begun to play. For an hour and a half she enjoyed the recital and was proud that Ellen Smith’s vocal solos were by far the best numbers on the program.
“Do come and see me sometime,” Mrs. Chatham invited casually as she arose to leave the auditorium.
“I should love to,” Nancy answered without an instant’s hesitation. “I’ll try to drive to Rocky Edge within the next few days.”
“Yes, do,” the widow responded.
Just then Bess, George and Ellen came through the auditorium, seeking Nancy.
“Oh, here you are!” exclaimed the latter. “We’ve looked everywhere for you.”
She paused, slightly embarrassed to find herself face to face with Mrs. Chatham.
“My dear, your singing was marvelous, perfectly marvelous,” the widow gushed. “I had no idea you were so talented. I’ll be happy to have you teach music to my Trixie. You are accepting the position?”
Ellen glanced at Nancy, seeking a cue as to the proper response.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” she stammered nervously. “I want to think it over.”
“I must know at once,” insisted Mrs. Chatham.