IX
Nancy Investigates
“Since I talked with Mrs. Willoughby last evening, I’ve decided that I can’t take her case after all.”
Carson Drew pushed back his empty coffee cup as he addressed his daughter who sat opposite him at the breakfast table.
“You can’t take it? Why not?”
“I forgot all about a case I have coming up this week. I’ll be in court and shan’t have time to think of anything else. I must ask Mrs. Willoughby to turn the matter over to another lawyer.”
Nancy frowned, for this did not suit her plans at all.
“Why not turn it over to me, Dad?”
“But you said you didn’t want to get mixed up in it.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I talked with Emily Crandall last night and she wants me to help her if I can.”
“Do you feel that you can handle the affair? It has the earmarks of a baffling mystery.”
“I like them, baffling,” and Nancy grinned. “If I don’t have any luck you can turn the case over to another lawyer.”
“All right, go ahead. Have you any clue?”
“Not a one,” Nancy admitted. “I thought I would drive over and interview Mrs. Potter. Then I intend to motor to Lilac Inn and talk with the manager.”
“An excellent start. I wish you luck.”
“I’ll probably need it.”
Ten o’clock found Nancy Drew driving toward the home of Mrs. Clara Potter. A trifle uncertainly, for she did not know what sort of reception to expect, she drew up in front of a large white house and walked toward the veranda. She noticed that the grounds were well kept and saw a gardener working in the flower beds.
“Mrs. Potter doesn’t appear to be poverty-stricken, at least,” Nancy told herself.
She lifted the door knocker, and presently was admitted by a trim maid. Nancy explained that she wished to see Mrs. Potter, and after a short wait was admitted to the lady’s boudoir. Mrs. Potter, languid in an exquisite lounging robe, was just finishing her breakfast, but she arose at once to greet her caller. Nancy introduced herself, explaining her mission.
“Certainly, I’ll tell you all I know about the robbery,” Mrs. Potter declared, offering Nancy a seat. “I feel very sorry for poor Jane, but I must say she brought disaster upon herself. I warned her that it was unwise to carry those jewels the way she did.”
Mrs. Potter then gave her account of the robbery, which tallied with the story Mrs. Willoughby had already given out.
“Did you see Mrs. Willoughby place the handbag on the table?” Nancy questioned, when Mrs. Potter had finished her tale.
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you know that it contained the Crandall jewels?”
Mrs. Potter hesitated.
“Well, I didn’t actually see the jewels. I went with Jane to the bank, but I remained in an outside room while she entered the vault.”
“I see. Have you any reason to believe that Mrs. Willoughby might not have taken the jewels from the vault?”
“Certainly not.”
“I have been told that Mrs. Willoughby is in rather straitened circumstance,” Nancy said, hoping to draw Mrs. Potter out.
“Yes, Jane has been having trouble with her finances,” the other admitted. “A few weeks ago I offered to lend her five hundred dollars.”
“She accepted?”
“Yes. But a few days later she came to me and said that she did not require the money.”
Nancy felt that this information was valuable, and quickly asked another question.
“Do you know where she secured the money which she evidently needed?”
“I didn’t feel that it was my concern.” Mrs. Potter looked troubled. “I hope you don’t think that poor Jane planned that robbery herself.”
“I am merely tracing down a number of clues,” Nancy replied simply. “I understand that you were the first to discover that the handbag was missing.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Potter agreed noncommittally, her expression hardening.
“Have you any theory as to what became of it?”
“No.”
It was evident to Nancy that Mrs. Potter was no longer willing to answer her questions; so after a little she said goodbye and left the house.
“I wonder if she was trying to hide something,” Nancy Drew mused as she drove toward Lilac Inn. “She certainly closed up quickly enough when I started to question her about her own actions.”
She was still considering Mrs. Potter’s apparent unwillingness to answer personal questions when she reached Lilac Inn. As it was early in the morning she found the place deserted of guests and had no difficulty in finding the manager.
“Certainly, I’ll be very glad to answer any of your questions,” the woman agreed readily after Nancy had explained who she was. “Step into my office where we shall be undisturbed.”
“Thank you,” Nancy returned pleasantly. “But if you don’t mind, I would like to see the table where Mrs. Willoughby sat.”
“Why, of course. Right this way. She sat at this table by the window.”
Nancy glanced at the table and then stepped to the window and looked out upon the rear veranda.
“As I understand it, Mrs. Willoughby ran to the window on the opposite side of the room when the crash came,” the manager explained. “From where she sat it was impossible to see the crossroads.”
“And during the brief time that her back was turned the handbag disappeared?”
“So Mrs. Willoughby claims.”
“Do you doubt her story then?” Nancy demanded quickly.
“I really can’t say,” the manager evaded. “After the accident took place, I rushed outside with a number of the others. When I returned I learned that the purse had disappeared.”
“I have been told that two of the guests failed to return to the dining room after the accident.”
“I took it upon myself to investigate that angle, Miss Drew. I called the Mercy Hospital this morning and learned that the victims of the automobile accident were brought there by two persons who had been dining here.”
“Then you discredit Mrs. Willoughby’s theory that her purse was snatched by one of the guests.”
“Yes, I do.”
Nancy Drew accepted this for what it was worth, making ample allowance for the fact that the manager undoubtedly was bent on preserving the reputation of Lilac Inn. She determined that she would not drop this clue without a little investigation of her own.
“How about your help?” she inquired, starting out on a new line. “Are you sure that everyone in your employ is honest?”
“Yes. I am very particular. The handbag could not have been taken by anyone who works at the Inn.”
“How many waiters were in the dining room at the time when Mrs. Willoughby discovered her loss?”
“I employ fifteen waiters. Eight or nine were in the room, I should judge.”
“Were they all searched?”
“No, only Jennings. He served Mrs. Willoughby.”
“Why were the others not searched?”
“I did not deem it necessary. They were occupied at tables in other parts of the room and could not have snatched the purse without being detected.”
“May I talk with Jennings, please?”
“Certainly. But it will only be a waste of time. He had nothing to do with the robbery, I am sure.”
“If you please, I think I will ask him a few questions.”
“I’ll call him.”
The manager stepped to the kitchen door. Presently she returned, followed by Jennings. He was tall, precise in gait, and a trifle sullen in appearance. He regarded Nancy Drew with obvious misgiving.
“Jennings,” the girl began quietly, “where were you at the time of the automobile accident?”
“I was on my way to the kitchen with a tray of dishes, Miss. Someone let out a scream. I set the tray on a table and ran to the door to see what had happened.”
“On your way to the door did you pass Mrs. Willoughby’s table?”
“No, Miss.”
“At any time did you notice Mrs. Willoughby’s purse?”
The waiter hesitated before answering this question and Nancy regarded him sharply.
“I saw it when I was serving her.”
“And at the time of the alarm?”
“I did not look that way.”
“Well, I believe that will be all. No, I have one more question. What do you think became of the handbag?”
“I couldn’t rightly say, Miss. I only know that I didn’t like the looks of that woman with Mrs. Willoughby. She was a queer one.”
“Queer? In what way?”
The waiter shrugged his shoulders.
“I can’t rightly say—it was just a feeling I had. Now if you’ve finished with me I’ll go back to my work.”
Nancy nodded absently and the waiter departed with alacrity.
“Do you wish to question any of the others?” the manager asked politely.
“Perhaps it won’t be necessary. Have you engaged any new help recently?”
“Indeed, I haven’t,” and the manager smiled. “I am looking for another salad girl, but it’s a real problem to find the right sort of help. I’ve almost given up trying.”
“I can sympathize with you there,” Nancy laughed. “I’ve been having difficulties of my own. And now I’ll not take any more of your time. Thank you for helping me.”
She said goodbye to the manager and left the Inn. Driving back to River Heights, she reviewed the conflicting information which she had secured. After all her work had she really made any progress toward solving the mystery of the Crandall jewels? True, she had unearthed a great many clues, but in untangling them might she not lose her bearings in a hopeless maze of detail? Sorely perplexed and a trifle discouraged, Nancy Drew admitted to herself that the mystery of Lilac Inn was likely to prove even more baffling than she had anticipated.