Chapter 16 The Mystery at the Ski Jump by Carolyn Keene
Slippery Sidney
The word “Dunstan” seemed to satisfy the man at the other end of the wire. Evidently convinced that he was talking to Mitzi Channing, he identified himself as Sidney.
“Listen, Mitzi!” he said excitedly, “I’ve got a deal cooking here for a thousand dollars’ worth of stock. That crazy Mrs. Bellhouse will buy it.” He laughed softly. “But I’ve got to work fast and push it while the old lady’s in the mood.”
“Swell,” Nancy murmured in a carefully muffled voice.
“Sure it’s swell,” Sidney agreed. “But the trouble is, I’m nearly out of certificates. You’ll have to get more printed and rush ’em to me!”
“You mean to River Heights?”
“Speak up!” Sidney ordered. “I can scarcely hear you.”
“I said—where do you want the stock sent?” Nancy repeated.
“Why, to the Winchester Post Office, of course. General Delivery,” the man snapped. “As soon as I make this sale, I’ll beat it to Dunstan’s. I think we’d better all lay low for a while. G’bye, Mitzi.”
The receiver clicked as the man abruptly ended his conversation. For an instant, Nancy leaned against the door of the telephone booth and waited for her wildly beating heart to calm down.
Her ruse had worked! Now she knew definitely where one member of the gang could be located.
Nancy hurried from the New Lasser back to her own hotel. Here she found her father impatiently pacing back and forth in the lobby.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Please hurry and pack.”
Mr. Drew explained that he had been called back to River Heights and that they must leave immediately. He had secured reservations on a plane taking off within the hour.
There was no chance for Nancy to tell him what she had learned until they were seated in the plane. The Drews had taken time, though, to telephone Chuck Wilson and give him the reason for their hasty departure.
“Please let me know about John Horn,” he had begged.
“We’ll do that,” Nancy had promised.
As the plane sped swiftly toward the River Heights airport, Nancy told her father about the mysterious Sidney.
“I’m sure he’s Sidney Boyd,” she said. “The one who sold stock and earrings to that actress, Bunny Reynolds, in New York. And then stole the earrings from her!”
“Obviously you’re right,” Mr. Drew agreed. “But if Sidney Boyd is to be trapped, you must supply him with new stock to sell to Mrs. Bellhouse.”
“Yes, and that’s where I’m stumped,” Nancy sighed. “Dad, would it be possible to make copies of the stock from Hannah’s certificate and mail them to Sidney Boyd at the Winchester Post Office?”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Drew answered. “I know a trustworthy printer who would do a rush job for me. However, as a lawyer, I must warn you, Nancy, that it’s illegal to print fake stock even for a worthy purpose. So suppose I telegraph the attorney general and get his permission first?”
The big plane had no sooner landed at River Heights than Nancy and her father departed on their separate ways. The lawyer went immediately to his office. Nancy hurried to a telephone and searched diligently through the books in an effort to locate Mrs. Bellhouse. But without results. Next she went to the public library and thumbed through various directories. She had no luck.
Apparently no one by the name of Sidney Boyd’s intended victim lived either in Winchester or in any of the near-by towns. Nancy went home, wondering how she could find the woman.
At dinner her father reported that he had received permission to copy Hannah’s stock certificates. And that the printer would do a rush job and have the stock ready by noon the next day. Mr. Drew would rush them to Montreal and have them air-mailed to Winchester.
“I’m glad,” Nancy answered. “But something worries me, Dad. I can’t find Mrs. Bellhouse’s address anywhere.”
“Never mind!” the lawyer said cheerily. “As soon as those stocks are mailed, we’ll notify the Winchester police. They can watch the General Delivery window at the post office and shadow Sidney Boyd after he takes the package.”
“But, Dad,” Nancy said, “suppose Mr. Boyd calls for the package under another name? Mitzi might have sent it that way.”
“You’re right,” her father agreed. “And also Boyd might go to Mrs. Bellhouse and collect the thousand dollars. That is a poser.”
It was Hannah Gruen who solved the problem. She said that if Mrs. Bellhouse was elderly she probably needed medical attention from time to time. “So why not seek Dr. Britt’s aid?” the housekeeper suggested.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Nancy said excitedly, rushing to the telephone.
Dr. Britt was as obliging as usual. He had never heard of Mrs. Bellhouse, but he offered to inquire about her at once among his medical friends.
“I’ll let you know what I learn, Nancy,” he promised.
Next morning Bess and George arrived at the Drew home, bursting with curiosity about Nancy’s adventures in Montreal. Seated tailor fashion on the floor in front of the fireplace the three girls enjoyed an hour’s confab.
George reported that John Horn had gone ice fishing for a few days on a friend’s farm, but as soon as he returned, the trapper wanted to talk to the Drews.
“He says Chuck Wilson’s a right handsome lad,” George put in.
“And to think that you skated in a contest with him,” Bess purred. “Some girls have all the luck!”
“Well, wish that my luck still holds.” Nancy smiled. “I hope Dr. Britt can find Mrs. Bellhouse.”
At that precise moment the telephone bell rang. Answering it, Nancy recognized the voice of the physician’s office nurse.
“I think we’ve located that Mrs. Bellhouse for you,” Miss Compton said. “A Dr. Green recently placed a Mrs. Bellhouse in the Restview Nursing Home, at the edge of Winchester. Visiting hours are between two and three-thirty.”
“Oh, thank you,” Nancy cried gratefully. “I’ll be there on the dot of two.”
“Any news about the stock swindlers?” the nurse asked.
“One of them may be caught in Winchester,” Nancy replied. “The police are watching for him.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Miss Compton said in a tone of satisfaction. “Let me know if any of them are caught, will you?”
Nancy said she would, then hung up. After telling the cousins about the patient who might be the Mrs. Bellhouse she wanted to locate, Nancy announced that she was going to call on her.
“Will you go along?” she asked. When George said, “Wouldn’t miss it,” Nancy added, “Let’s start now. It’s a long drive.”
On the way she confessed to being fearful that Sidney Boyd might have become suspicious and already have taken the thousand dollars away from Mrs. Bellhouse.
“Oh, don’t worry so much,” Bess urged. “Maybe she’s not the right woman after all.”
Just a few minutes before two o’clock the girls pulled up in front of a rambling, white house flanked on the right side by a grove of birch trees. Nancy rang the bell. After a long wait a uniformed nurse opened the door.
In answer to Nancy’s request that she be permitted to see Mrs. Bellhouse, the nurse said that her patient was not able to have any callers that day. She had been ill and was now asleep.
“Could you please come tomorrow instead?” the nurse suggested.
“Yes, of course,” Nancy murmured.
Back at the car she told the cousins of her disappointment, but suggested they stay near by to see if Sidney Boyd showed up. Bess groaned at the thought of an hour and a half’s wait, but she finally settled back to enjoy the car’s radio and a box of crackers.
Of all the callers at the rest home there was not one man, and at last the girls drove home. But promptly at two o’clock the next day the three friends returned, hoping to catch Sidney Boyd. Nancy had learned that he had not called at the Winchester Post Office General Delivery window. And no one who had asked for mail had been suspected by the detective on duty of being the stock salesman.
The same pleasant-faced nurse Nancy had seen the previous afternoon admitted the girls. She led them toward a small but sunny front room on the second floor.
“My patient will be pleased to see you,” she informed them. “She loves young people.”
Mrs. Bellhouse was a fragile old lady with silvery hair and faded blue eyes. She looked up and smiled as Nancy approached her bed.
“You’re very pretty,” she said gently. “Do I know your name?”
“I’m Nancy Drew, Mrs. Bellhouse. And these are my friends, George Fayne and Bess Marvin.”
“So young—all of you,” murmured the invalid. “Did Sidney Boyd send you? Sidney’s a relative, you know. The husband of my dear cousin Elsie.”
Nancy looked around quickly and saw that the nurse had left the room. “Are you expecting Sidney today?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. This very afternoon,” Mrs. Bellhouse nodded. She crooked a finger and motioned Nancy to bend nearer. “I have something for Sidney, but I don’t want that starchy old nurse to know,” she chuckled. “See, it’s right here.”
As she spoke, the old lady pulled out a drawer of her night table. Under some tissues lay a crisp pile of currency.
“It’s a thousand dollars!” she confided.
Nancy pretended surprise, saying how generous the woman was.
“Not generous at all,” Mrs. Bellhouse answered crisply. “I’m buying stock from Sidney in a wonderful mink ranch. The dividends will pay my board here for a long time. I wish Sidney would hurry.”
George had posted herself near a front window to watch for the salesman. Presently a car parked and a man alighted. George gave Nancy the high sign, and the three girls said a hasty good-bye to Mrs. Bellhouse.
In the hall Nancy gave quick orders. George was to go downstairs and call the police. She and Bess secreted themselves in an empty sewing room which adjoined that of Mrs. Bellhouse. Here she opened the connecting door a crack, and motioned Bess to silence.
Their retreat was just in time. A dapper-looking man with a pencil-thin mustache came striding into the old lady’s room.
“Cousin Clara!” he exclaimed, clasping her hands. “How well you look! Charming! I wish I might spend the afternoon with you, but you know how business is. Well, I’ve brought you the stock certificates. Is everything ready?”
“Sidney, I’ve been thinking about dear Elsie,” Mrs. Bellhouse quavered. “She never did let me know when she married you.”
“Never mind. You’ve probably forgotten,” he said evasively. “Now we must hurry before that horrid old nurse comes back. Have you got the money?”
“It’s right here,” said Mrs. Bellhouse. “Are you sure that these stocks will give me a big income, Sidney? That I won’t have to worry?”
“Of course, Cousin Clara. Now you take the stock,” he handed her an envelope. “And I’ll take the money. That’s it.”
While the indignant girls watched the man stuff the bills into his pockets, they heard footsteps behind them. George! She bobbed her head to indicate success, forming with her lips, “Radio police car coming.”
As Sidney Boyd started to leave his victim, he cocked his head and listened to the braking of an automobile in front of the house.
The man rushed to a window and looked out. A look of consternation spread over his face and he bolted from the room without a word.
Nancy was already at the door. As she entered the hall, she was just in time to see Sidney Boyd disappear down the back stairs.
“Come on, girls!” she urged. “He’s as good as caught!”