Chapter 22 The Clue of the Velvet Mask by Carolyn Keene
Prisoners
Driving on past the Blue Iris Inn, Nancy pulled up on another side road an eighth of a mile away. She parked the car beside a clump of willows, and the girls tramped back to the deserted building.
“You won’t go too close, promise,” Bess begged.
“Just close enough to do some looking. We’ll find out what Tombar’s doing here without his seeing us.”
“Okay.”
The green sedan still stood on the weed-choked driveway, but Peter Tombar was not in sight.
“He must be inside,” Nancy said.
“If he catches us prowling around here, we may run into all that trouble George predicted!” Bess declared uneasily.
“Now don’t get jittery,” Nancy soothed her, “We’ll stay out of sight.”
Using the old pines to shield them, the girls circled around to one side of the inn. Nancy crept up cautiously to a boarded window and peered in through a tiny crack.
“You keep watch,” she told Bess.
“What do you see?” her friend demanded in an impatient whisper. “Is Tombar in there?”
“Someone’s moving around with a flashlight. Yes, it’s Tombar all right! But what’s become of all the crates and cartons?”
“They’re gone?”
“I can’t see any, Bess. You remember before they were stacked high.”
“You’ve seen everything you can,” Bess whispered, tugging at her friend’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get away from here.”
Nancy held back. In fascination she watched as Peter Tombar lifted a trap door in the floor of the deserted room and disappeared below.
“I can’t leave now,” Nancy whispered. “Wonder what’s in the cellar?”
Bess pulled frantically on her friend’s arm.
“Come on, Nancy!” she warned. “A truck is turning in here!”
It was too late for the girls to retreat to the road without being seen. They flattened themselves against the boarded side window, hoping not to be observed.
Luck was with them, for instead of coming all the way up the drive, the covered truck halted near the road.
As the girls anxiously waited, it backed up again and drove away.
“A Taylor company truck!” Nancy exclaimed. “The store’s closed today!”
“The driver saw us!” Bess insisted fearfully.
“Maybe not,” Nancy replied. “Anyway, we’ll have time to see if Tombar brings up anything from the cellar.”
“Let’s go now,” Bess urged nervously.
Nancy ignored her plea. Peering in through the crack again, she patiently waited.
Soon she saw Mr. Tombar emerge through the trap door. He carried something in his hands.
“Black masks!” Nancy disclosed excitedly.
“Oh, this proves it!” Bess cried. “Tombar is in with the gang!”
“He’s probably one of the ringleaders!” Nancy replied. “They’re going to use those masks tonight!”
So absorbed did Bess also become in watching the discharged employee of the entertainment company that she forgot her job as lookout. The girls were suddenly awakened to their danger when Tombar started toward the side door of the inn.
“Let’s leave, Nancy,” Bess urged. “We may be too late to—”
The sentence was never finished. Nancy heard a crackle back of them and turned.
At that instant a hood was thrown over her head by a masked woman who had crept up silently behind her. At the same moment, Bess was seized and her head also covered by a man whose face was concealed by a hood.
Resistance proved useless. Though the girls struggled and tried to free themselves, they were absolutely helpless, for Tombar rushed out to assist his accomplices.
“This is the Drew girl and her friend,” the woman reported.
“So!” Tombar exclaimed. “I knew Nancy Drew was spying on me. We’ll deal with her presently. Right now, get ’em both out of the way. Harris is coming and I don’t want him to catch on.”
Nancy and Bess were hustled into the inn and taken down into the dark, musty cellar. There the masks were exchanged for blindfolds, and the girls were bound and gagged.
“You see what happens to people who don’t mind their own business?” Tombar taunted them as he ascended the stairs.
Though they could not speak or move, the captives could hear plainly what went on in the rooms above. Presently the real-estate man arrived and was greeted cordially by Peter Tombar.
“I’m glad you drove out today, Mr. Harris,” he said courteously. “I’ve been thinking over your client’s offer to buy this place.”
“Then you’ll sell?”
“If the price is right, and we can make a quick deal. My wife is tired of River Heights. We want to travel. It will have to be an immediate cash sale, though, or it’s all off.”
“Give me a couple of hours,” Mr. Harris was heard to reply. “I think I can swing it.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you at your office.”
Lying on the dusty, damp cellar floor, Nancy unhappily considered her predicament. Mr. Tombar intended to sell the inn and with his cronies leave River Heights before the police caught up with them.
If only she and Bess could escape and bring state troopers there in time to thwart their plan! But their bonds were secure and there was no chance of loosening them.
“And maybe no one will find us,” Nancy reflected despairingly as she heard Harris’ car leave.
Only George Fayne knew where she and Bess had gone. In the old days, their failure to return to River Heights in a reasonable length of time would have signaled trouble to their friend. But now George was not herself. Could she possibly be depended upon to send help?
Twenty minutes elapsed, then the girls heard footsteps on the cellar stairs. Their ankles were unbound and the prisoners were pulled rudely to their feet.
“Come along,” a man said gruffly. “You’re going to be moved.”
The girls’ hearts sank. Their one chance of rescue was vanishing!
“Unless,” Nancy thought, “our rescuers could pick up our trail.”
As the girls were prodded up the stairway, Nancy wondered how she might leave a clue. She thought of the buttons on her dress. Could she possibly get one off?
Stumbling sideways against the wall, she deliberately tried to tear one off. Luck favored her. A protruding nail ripped her dress. She heard a button drop on the step!
“It’s a slight hope,” she thought as her captor yanked her around unceremoniously.
“Keep goin’,” he ordered. “No stallin’.” When they reached the main floor of the inn, he said, “Okay, Pete.”
“Get those girls out of here,” Tombar ordered. “And make it snappy. No telling what they have up their sleeves.”
The girls’ ankles were bound again. Their arms still tied behind them, and with blindfolds and gags in place, they were lifted into a vehicle and laid on the floor. The driver started the motor and pulled out of the driveway at high speed. Nancy and Bess wondered if it was the Taylor truck they had seen backing out of the driveway.
In the front seat were evidently the two who had captured them. The girls were sure that they were speaking in disguised tones.
“If I can catch them off guard,” she thought, “maybe they’ll speak in their natural voices.”
Suddenly Nancy thumped her two feet up and down.
“Florence, what’s that?” the man cried.
“That detective up to her tricks again.”
Florence Snecker’s voice! Was her companion her husband? He did not sound like the man whose voice she had heard in the apartment.
“You girls keep quiet or you’ll be sorry,” the woman warned. “We don’t want no trouble with you!”
Nancy smiled inwardly. She had achieved her purpose, but as to making trouble, what chance did she have? She was bruised from the constant jolting, and her resistance was being lowered momentarily by the long ride. Her head throbbed and her back ached.
She wondered about Bess who had made no move. Was she asleep or had she fainted? When dreadfully frightened, Bess did sometimes black out for a time.
The two girls were at opposite ends of the truck. Nancy tried to reach Bess but the effort was too painful for her to continue. She longed for the journey to end.
Presently the truck slowed down. They must be in a town. After turning several corners, it finally stopped. The motor was switched off, apparently in some back alley, for there were no street noises. Nancy heard the woman remark to her male companion:
“I’m glad our friend’s going to Harris instead of waiting for him at the inn. He used good sense to unload on Harris and pull out, too. This town’s getting too hot for all of us.”
Nancy felt certain that Mrs. Snecker was speaking of Peter Tombar. If so, it meant that he would flee the city as soon as he had collected the cash from the real-estate agent. The police would not find him, even if it occurred to George Fayne to send them to the inn to investigate.
“I wish I’d never been dragged into this deal,” Mrs. Snecker whined.
“Oh, shut up,” her companion growled. “After tonight, you’ll be on easy street.”
The girls were hauled out of the truck, untied, and forced to walk into a building. There they were made to sit on the floor while their wrists and ankles were rebound.
“Good-by, blondie,” Mrs. Snecker said, giving Nancy a vicious prod with her shoe. “Let’s see you run to the police now and tell what you know.”
“We’ll take you away in a little while to a place where you’ll never squeal!” the man added.
A heavy door was rolled shut and locked. The room became silent as a tomb.
Nancy squirmed and twisted but she could not loosen the cords which held her prisoner. Seldom had she been in a more hopeless situation!
She had fully established that Peter Tombar and the Sneckers were working together in the Velvet Gang. Likewise, she was almost certain that they meant to pull one final robbery and flee.
But what good was this knowledge? She was unable to notify the police or even to free herself and Bess. Moreover, these scoundrels meant to take them away and keep them prisoners indefinitely.
“Oh, why did I let myself get caught!” Nancy thought helplessly.