Chapter 7 The Secret of the Wooden Lady by Carolyn Keene
Mark of a Thief
The entire contents of the captain’s desk had been emptied onto the floor. His bunk was torn apart, and the drawers beneath it had been forced out and splintered. The wardrobe door gaped open and clothing was strewn about the room. An old chest looked as though it had been hacked with an ax, and there were great gashes in the beautiful paneled walls.
“Oh, Nancy,” Bess gasped, “who would do such a horrid thing?”
George shook her head. “The captain will be terribly upset when he sees this. Old Grizzle Face must have come back during the night.”
“I’m calling the police right now,” declared Nancy.
Detectives Mallory and O’Shea of the Boston Police Department arrived promptly. With thoroughness and efficiency they examined the damage in the captain’s cabin, and then tramped over the entire ship looking for some clue to the vandal.
Finally Detective O’Shea summed up. “There’s been unlawful trespass and considerable property damage, that’s plain. Whether there’s been robbery too, only the captain himself can say. Know when he’ll be back?”
Nancy told the officer she had not heard from the captain for two days. “My father and I were to meet him here yesterday morning. But Captain Easterly didn’t appear. And it looks as if he hadn’t slept on board last night, or he would have driven the intruder away.”
“Know where the captain can be reached?”
Nancy shook her head, frowning. “I honestly don’t think he expected to be away. He was very anxious to have my father—he’s a lawyer—trace the ship’s title. He’d surely want to keep the appointment he made with him.
“And another thing, Captain Easterly knew someone had been coming aboard the Bonny Scot secretly. He wouldn’t leave it unguarded—the whole night.”
Mallory’s eyes narrowed. “Think there’s been foul play, Miss Drew?”
“I hope not,” Nancy said earnestly. She told the officers about the anonymous telephone call to her father in River Heights, warning him to stay away from the clipper ship. She also spoke of the mysterious sailor who had pushed her into the wardrobe.
“Describe him, please,” O’Shea ordered.
“We call him Grizzle Face,” George put in.
Nancy gave the detectives a detailed description of the sailor in dungarees. “Whoever he is,” she added, “he must be looking for something of great value. That’s why I’m worried about Captain Easterly.”
“You mean you think the skipper has been kidnaped?” Bess asked excitedly.
Detective Mallory frowned. “Let’s stick to facts, girls. Is there any other information you can give us?”
Nancy, wondering if Flip Fay might be involved in any way, asked if they had been notified that the robbery suspect might be in Boston. O’Shea said he had noticed the report on Fay.
“Do you know him?” Mallory inquired.
“We all do,” Nancy said. “He used to work at a service station in River Heights.”
“Why don’t we give you girls a ride to police headquarters?” O’Shea suggested. “I think the lieutenant would like to talk to you.”
“I’m not going,” Bess stated firmly. “I don’t want to remember that horrid man. He knocked me out, officer, and stole my mother’s jewelry. Anyway, Nancy, you can tell the lieutenant everything he wants to know.”
Mallory smiled. “Very well. Shall we go, Miss Drew?”
“I’m ready,” Nancy said. “I’ll meet you girls here later.”
“I should say not!” cried Bess. “I’m getting off this spooky old ship. And George is coming with me.”
George shrugged. “You know Bess. We’ll do some sightseeing and meet you at lunchtime, Nancy.”
They settled on a restaurant in the center of the city. George and Bess left for a tour of the historic spots in Boston, and Nancy accompanied the detective to the precinct station to meet Lieutenant Hennessy.
At the lieutenant’s request Nancy recounted once more the strange events which had taken place in River Heights before she and her father had come to Boston. She also described Flip Fay’s looks as accurately as she could, adding that he had an irritating and insolent manner.
“Is there any unusual characteristic by which we could identify him?” Lieutenant Hennessy asked.
“He has a short middle finger on his right hand.”
“Anything else?”
“Fay dropped a ring, which I found after the robbery and gave it to the River Heights police. There was a strange F on it.”
“Strange?” Hennessy repeated.
“Yes, it looked like—” Nancy searched her mind for the right word—“like a crow’s foot.”
Hennessy’s eyes widened. “Did you say a crow’s foot?”
“Yes.”
Pushing back his chair, the lieutenant moved to a file of records, pulled out a folder, and handed Nancy a sheet of drawing paper.
“Something like this?” he asked.
Nancy’s heart gave a leap. On the paper was the sketch of a symbol—the identical crow’s-foot F she had seen on Flip Fay’s ring!
“That’s exactly like it, Lieutenant Hennessy!” she exclaimed.
The officer leaned back in his swivel chair, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “You say you think you saw this man here in Boston?”
Nancy nodded. “Yesterday. Down at the water front, near the Bonny Scot. He drove away in a taxi, and I tried to follow in mine, but we lost him.”
“Young lady,” the lieutenant said gravely, “you’ve given us some very important information. This peculiar looking F is the mark of a dangerous criminal. He is known to the police as The Crow!”