Chapter 12 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
Trixie’s Disappearance
So swiftly did the automobile drive away that Nancy barely had time to jot down the license number.
“They did seem to be afraid to meet you,” Mrs. Chatham admitted. “Do you think we should notify the police?”
Nancy already was starting toward the house to seek a telephone. For a moment she had been tempted to pursue the fleeing couple in her own car, but she realized that such a course might prove to be dangerous. The police, in a fast cruiser, would have a much better chance to capture the kidnapers.
With Mrs. Chatham hovering at her side, Nancy made a terse report to the central station, asking that the couple be held for questioning. The task accomplished, she then asked the widow to tell her everything she had learned about the Browns.
“They seemed to be nice,” Mrs. Chatham responded. “They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Fred Brown, arousing my interest by saying they were trying to find the widow of a certain Captain Tomlin. They claimed to have known him well before his death.”
“I don’t wonder you were taken in by such a clever approach. Did they question you about the treasure map?”
“Only in an indirect way. They hinted they knew about it by saying Captain Tomlin had told them a great secret before his death. They warned me to be on my guard if I were his widow.”
“On guard?”
“They explained that a certain man—they would not give his name—was determined to gain possession of a valuable paper belonging to Captain Tomlin.”
“Of course they referred to the map!”
“I thought so, although I pretended to have no idea as to what they meant. They advised me to leave Rocky Edge for a time lest the man threaten or harm me.”
“What reply did you make, Mrs. Chatham?”
“I told them that I wanted you to hear the story before I made any decision.”
“You told them my name?”
“No, I merely said you were a friend.”
“Then that explains why they were so startled to see me come up the path,” Nancy said with a broad smile. “My sudden appearance must have given them a great shock.”
“I wonder how much they really know about the lost map and the treasure?” speculated Mrs. Chatham.
“Probably not as much as we do. They may believe you have it in your possession. Either they’re working with that man who hid in the studio or else they’re hoping to get ahead of him in stealing it.”
Mrs. Chatham walked nervously to the French window, gazing into the garden.
“I don’t know what to do. I’ve been very uneasy since that dreadful man was hiding in the studio. But I don’t want to follow the Browns’ advice either.”
“If I were in your place, I would hire guards,” Nancy said emphatically. “Why, if the place is left alone for any length of time the Browns may gain possession of the map. For all we know, it may be hidden somewhere on the premises.”
The suggestion appealed to Mrs. Chatham who promised to attend to the matter directly.
“Do you feel we should give up the proposed trip to New York City?” Mrs. Chatham asked as she walked with Nancy to the Drew car.
“Quite the contrary,” the girl responded quickly. “Considering what has happened, it’s all the more important to learn the contents of your husband’s safety deposit box.”
“Then I’ll see your father tomorrow,” Mrs. Chatham promised. “By taking a plane it should be possible to make the trip in a day if necessary.”
Nancy drove home in a haze of excitement. The moment her father arrived from the office she began to pour forth the story of her day’s adventures, ending by teasing him to allow her to accompany the widow to New York.
“Why, Nancy,” he said in surprise. “Only a day or so ago you told me that she was a rather unpleasant person!”
“I still don’t approve of her manner toward Trixie, but I like her much better now than I did. Oh, please let me go, Dad!”
“I’ll decide after I’ve talked with her,” the lawyer smiled.
All that evening Nancy mulled over the strange developments which had followed her entry into the case of the missing map. Was the man who had broken into the Tomlin Smith house Spike Doty? Could he be the person who had been surprised in the studio?
“And where do the Browns and Mr. Bellows fit into the picture?” she pondered. “I wish I knew if they are working together or separately.”
When Nancy finally went to bed it was to dream that a heavy-set man with wicked-looking eyes peered at her from behind various objects. In this fantasy she seemed to be standing on a high revolving platform. Regardless of which direction it turned, she kept seeing the same terrifying man in different costumes. Nancy awoke to find herself clawing the bed covers wildly.
“My, what a nightmare!” she shivered, sitting up in bed. “I can see that face yet!”
Now that she was awake, the girl realized her subconscious mind had played a trick upon her. The face she had seen in her dreams was that of the man on the ladder at the Smith home. The eyes were those above the brass button “apparition” which had haunted the Ship Cottage at Rocky Edge.
“Why, that’s a clue!” she thought suddenly. “Why didn’t I think of using Trixie before?”
Leaping from her bed, Nancy ran to her desk and switched on a reading light. Inspired, she seized a crayon and made a color sketch of the leering face as it had appeared to her.
“Tomorrow I’ll show it to Trixie,” she decided. “I wonder if the picture will seem familiar to her?”
The opportunity which she sought came the next morning. Mrs. Chatham called upon Carson Drew at his office, bringing along her young daughter. At the moment of Nancy’s arrival Trixie had just upset an ink bottle and Mr. Drew’s secretary was nearly in hysterics.
“This young imp is driving me crazy!” she confided to Nancy in a whisper.
“Let me look after her,” the Drew girl offered willingly.
She led Trixie to an anteroom, there entertaining her by relating fairy stories to her. The child listened enthralled, scarcely moving as she sat and drank in every word.
“Oh, I have a picture to show you!” Nancy said finally. “It’s a drawing I made last night.”
She took the crayon sketch from her purse and laid it before Trixie. The child gazed at it, then gave a muffled shriek.
“It’s that same ghost!” she cried.
“Does this really look like the face you saw at the Ship Cottage?” Nancy inquired, well pleased at the result of her experiment.
“Yes, it’s the same one,” the child answered nervously. “Take it away, please! Even the picture makes me feel funny.”
Nancy smiled while comforting the little girl and returned the drawing to her pocketbook. Just then Mrs. Chatham and her father came from the inner office.
“Everything is arranged,” the widow declared triumphantly. “Your father prepared the papers I’ll need in New York. And he says you may go with me.”
“Oh, that’s splendid!” Nancy exclaimed, flashing her parent a grateful glance. “When do we leave?”
“In two hours, if you can be ready in such a short time,” Mrs. Chatham replied.
“I can be ready in fifteen minutes,” Nancy laughed. “How about plane reservations?”
“Your father made them for us by telephone.”
“Then everything seems to be settled,” Nancy said, starting to gather up her purse and gloves.
“Did you hire the guards to watch your home?”
“Yes, two men are there.”
Nancy started toward the door, saying, “I’ll dash home and toss a few things into a bag.”
“I want to go with you!” Trixie announced petulantly.
“You can’t, dear, and that’s all there is to it!” Mrs. Chatham replied in a firm voice. “Now don’t tease,” she added, starting off. “Nancy, I’ll pick you up later,” she called.
After the two had gone, the lawyer turned to his daughter. “Have you told anyone that you are intending to leave for New York?” he asked.
“I discussed it with Hannah Gruen.”
“No one else?”
“Well, George and Bess know I want to go there.”
“I’ve advised Mrs. Chatham to keep the reason for her trip a secret,” Carson Drew resumed. “Of course, those taking care of Trixie will have to know where her mother can be reached. I believe you’ll have no trouble, but it’s just as well to be cautious.”
“You think someone may follow us to the bank?”
“The Browns have demonstrated that they will go to any length to gain possession of the treasure map, Nancy. That’s why I want you to be careful.”
“I will, Dad,” the girl promised. “And now I have something for you.”
She gave him the crayon sketch of the man in the studio and told him of Trixie’s positive identification.
“I’ll tell the police,” he offered, studying the face. “This is an important step forward. I hope the little girl was sure of her identification and not just frightened by the sinister-looking face.”
“Trixie is very bright,” replied Nancy. “I believe we can depend upon her reaction as being accurate. Well, I must run or I’ll never catch the plane!”
Aided by the faithful housekeeper, she packed an overnight bag and changed into traveling clothes. By the time the widow stopped for her, Nancy was waiting.
“We may be a little early,” Mrs. Chatham remarked, glancing at her watch. “Our plane doesn’t leave until eleven.”
When she and Nancy arrived at the airport, they at once checked in at the ticket office.
“You are Mrs. Chatham?” the man at the desk inquired. “If so, you are to telephone your home at once. The call came about five minutes ago.”
“Oh, dear, I hope nothing is wrong,” the woman said anxiously as she hurried to a telephone.
In a few minutes she joined Nancy, her face tense and pale.
“Trixie has disappeared!” she announced dramatically.
“Oh, how dreadful! Did she carry out her threat to run away?”
“The servants were too excited to give me any real information. I’m afraid the poor darling has been kidnaped.”
Dismissing from their minds all thought of the New York trip, Mrs. Chatham and Nancy ran outside and took a taxi. As fast as the speed laws would permit they raced to the mansion.
“I am afraid Trixie has been kidnaped by that dreadful man who hid in the storeroom!” Mrs. Chatham said apprehensively. “If only those two guards I hired had paid strict attention to their duties!”
Arriving at the mansion, they learned that a search for the missing child already was under way. Observing that things were moving haphazardly, Nancy organized the servants into units so that every inch of the grounds could be covered.
“It’s no use,” Mrs. Chatham said brokenly. “We’ll never find her. She’s been kidnaped, I know.”
“Now don’t give up hope,” Nancy comforted the mother. “I’m going to search the studio.”
As she started away she chanced to pass the Chatham automobile parked on the circular driveway. The girl stopped short, staring because the lid to the rear-compartment trunk had been left open.
Nancy’s quick eye next noted a slight movement among the bushes only a few feet from the driveway. Darting toward them, she pulled aside the thick branches, revealing the cowering Trixie.
“I’ve found her!” she called to Mrs. Chatham.
As the widow started down the driveway, Nancy whispered something in Trixie’s ear. The child hugged her tightly and said in a frightened voice:
“I won’t do it again, honest I won’t! I’ll be good.”
The widow embraced her daughter in relief, then began to scold her.
“Trixie, you bad child, you’ve made me miss my plane! You keep me in a constant state of agitation!”
Nancy drew the woman aside. “Mrs. Chatham, may I offer a suggestion? Apparently the people here aren’t giving your daughter the proper attention. Don’t you think it would be a good idea for Ellen Smith to come over while you’re gone?”
The woman was pleased with the suggestion. Fortunately Nancy was able to reach the girl by phone. After hearing the story, Ellen promised to start at once and stay constantly with Trixie.
“But I’ll have to leave tomorrow afternoon,” she said.
“Probably we’ll be back by that time,” replied Nancy, then hung up. “Mrs. Chatham, it’s all arranged. And I think if we hurry we may be able to catch the plane. We certainly shall if it happens to be late.”
“Let’s try,” Mrs. Chatham proposed.
Quickly she told the servants of Ellen Smith’s coming while Nancy summoned the chauffeur. He drove as fast as he could toward the airport.
“It will be a close race,” said Nancy. Rolling down the car window she began to watch the sky for the incoming plane.
“Oh, there it is,” she groaned a moment later.
“Then we may as well turn back. We’ll never make it now,” cried Mrs. Chatham.
“We may,” Nancy insisted. “It remains here ten minutes before the take-off.”
At the airport, unknown to the two women, a Mr. Bellows was making a polite inquiry at the ticket desk.
“Has Mrs. Chatham arrived yet?”
“Twenty minutes ago,” was the brief answer.
Mr. Bellows glanced about the waiting room to make sure that the widow was not there. Assuming that she had boarded the plane, he bought his own ticket.
“She’ll not elude me this time!” he chuckled as he walked outside. “I’ll get what I want before her return from New York!”
At the very moment that the Chatham car drove up before the airport, he boarded the transport.
“Take any seat you wish, sir,” the stewardess greeted him pleasantly.
Before he realized that Nancy and Mrs. Chatham were not aboard, the young woman had slammed the door and the plane taxied away.