XI
A Trip to the Inn
After leaving the Hidelberg shop, Helen Corning drove Nancy Drew home in her runabout. She declined an invitation to remain for dinner.
“It’s getting late and I really can’t stop,” she said. “I’ll see you again in a few days.”
“If you should hear anything about Mary Mason, I wish you’d let me know.”
“I certainly will, Nancy; but I imagine you can find her at Lilac Inn. She probably found work there.”
Helen said goodbye and with a wave of her hand drove away, leaving her chum standing at the curb. As Nancy Drew walked toward the house she reviewed the events of the afternoon. The more she considered Mary Mason’s peculiar actions, the more puzzled she became. Where had the girl secured money? When she had called at the Drew household seeking work, she had been rather shabbily dressed, but at the store Nancy had noticed that she was wearing an expensive gown.
“Of course, it’s possible she found work,” she reasoned; “but even if she did, it’s not likely her wages would be enough to permit her to buy dresses at Hidelberg’s. I can’t understand it at all. Probably I’m doing Mary Mason an injustice,” she told herself; “but I feel I owe it to Emily to investigate every clue. I wish there were fewer or that a few of them were clearer.”
Nancy paused on the veranda and glanced at her wrist watch. It was after five o’clock and she could hear Mrs. Carter bustling about in the kitchen preparing dinner.
“I’ll have time to run out to Lilac Inn if I hurry,” she decided.
Pausing only long enough to tell Mrs. Carter that she might be a few minutes late for dinner, she backed her roadster from the garage and started off down the lake road. Arriving at the inn, she swept up the driveway and came to a halt in front of the door. There were only a few automobiles parked near by, and Nancy guessed that the scandal of the loss of the jewelry had already affected the trade. Entering the inn, she sought the manager and was conducted to a private office.
“I’m sorry to trouble you again,” Nancy apologized. “But I find I must ask you a few more questions.”
“I’ll answer them gladly,” the manager returned graciously.
“Have you a girl in your employ by the name of Mary Mason?”
“Mary Mason? No, there is no one here by that name.”
“Perhaps she applied for work.”
“Not that I can recall. Can you describe her appearance?”
Nancy gave a detailed description of Mary, but when she had finished the manager of the inn shook her head.
“I am certain that she never came here. In fact, if she had, I would have hired her at once, for I am short a girl in the kitchen.”
“That’s queer,” Nancy murmured, half to herself. “Helen told me the girl said she would come here.”
“She must have changed her mind. Perhaps she found work at another tea room.”
“That’s possible,” Nancy agreed as she rose to leave. “I’ll try to find out.”
Driving back toward River Heights a few minutes later, she was ready to admit that the trip to Lilac Inn had been unfruitful. Apparently, she had been unjustly suspicious of Mary Mason, for if the girl had never been employed at the inn, it was ridiculous to attempt to connect her with the robbery.
“Just the same, I’d like to know where she got that handsome dress she was wearing this afternoon,” Nancy thought. “I think I’ll try to find out where she is working.”
Upon reaching home, she found that she was just in time for dinner. Mrs. Carter had prepared an excellent meal, but Nancy was a trifle preoccupied as she ate. Carson Drew noticed how quiet she was and surmised the reason.
“Not worrying about the Willoughby case, are you, Nancy?” he questioned.
“I’m afraid I am,” Nancy admitted reluctantly. “So far, I’ve not made any headway.”
“What seems to be the trouble?”
“I can’t get a real clue. I thought perhaps I had one this afternoon, but it didn’t amount to that!” Nancy snapped her fingers contemptuously.
“Want me to take charge?”
“N‑o,” Nancy returned slowly. “I haven’t given up yet.”
“Mrs. Willoughby came to my office this afternoon. She’s beginning to expect results.”
“I’m doing my best, Dad.”
“I know you are, Nancy. I’m not trying to rush you. Only I’m afraid things are coming to a crisis.”
“You mean the police are going to arrest Mrs. Willoughby?”
“I’m afraid of it.”
“If I just had a clue—something to start work on!”
“There are some mystery cases that have never been solved,” Mr. Drew remarked by way of comfort. “This may be one of them.”
“I won’t admit defeat!” Nancy retorted, thrusting her chin into the air.
“Let’s thrash this thing out together,” Mr. Drew said kindly. “Whom are you considering as the possible criminal?”
“Well, there’s Mrs. Potter. She was reluctant to give me any information about herself.”
“What motive would Mrs. Potter have? I understand that she has plenty of money of her own. She hasn’t a grudge against Mrs. Willoughby?”
“Not to my knowledge. Then of course there is that waiter at Lilac Inn—Jennings they call him.”
“You questioned him?”
“Yes, and didn’t learn anything of value.”
“How about the persons who were guests at the inn at the time of the robbery?”
“I’ve considered them all. The two who took the auto victims to the hospital are out of the picture. They had a perfect alibi.”
“And the women who were unwilling to be searched—especially the one who protested loudly?”
“I’ve not learned anything of much interest about her.”
“Wasn’t her name Viola Granger?”
“Yes, it was.”
“That name strikes me as familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard it somewhere.”
“Can’t you remember?” Nancy asked eagerly.
“Let me see—now I have it! That woman has a prison record!”
“A prison record!” Nancy exclaimed. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, the affair happened at least ten years ago, but I have a good memory for names. As I recall, she was sentenced to five years in prison.”
“On what charge?”
“Robbery.”
“Then you think it was she who took the jewels?”
“The clue may be worth investigating.”
“But I don’t see how she could have been the one,” Nancy declared, with a troubled frown. “She was sitting on the opposite side of the room, a long way from Mrs. Willoughby’s table. Several of the guests were willing to swear that she never stirred from her chair, even when the others rushed to the windows.”
“H‑m, that does seem to explode the theory, doesn’t it? Well, take the tip for what it’s worth.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about Viola Granger,” Nancy promised. “But I really don’t see that she had the opportunity to take the jewels.”
“Once a thief always a thief, they say, Nancy. Then, with that excitement, can you be sure that your witnesses knew what they were talking about?”
“Perhaps not.”
“After all, Nancy, the police may be right. Suspicion points more strongly to Mrs. Willoughby than to anyone else. She had motive and she had the opportunity.”
“Oh, Dad, don’t say that! Poor Emily. Oh, I won’t let myself think she’s guilty! Emily’s a dear, Dad, and that would break her heart, I’m sure.”
After a time Nancy left the dinner table and went to her own room. She tried to write a letter, but found that she could not keep her mind off the Crandall robbery.
“Emily is depending upon me,” she thought miserably. “I’m beginning to think that I may fail her.”
Over and over she sifted the evidence, but found it impossible to arrive at a conclusion as to the person guilty of the robbery. At last, in sheer disgust, Nancy tumbled into bed.