The Secret of the Golden Pavillion Read online

  “It certainly sounds as if they had been stolen,” Ned declared.

  Kiyabu did not agree. “Mr. Sakamaki was very ill, but he managed to keep good account of everything. I’m sure he told me the truth when he said the items were safe. But where are they? The old gentleman was not strong enough to carry them outside the house and bury them.”

  Nancy was quiet for a few moments, then suggested, “Perhaps Mr. Sakamaki had a visitor and gave the pieces to him.”

  “Either that, or the person stole them and warned the old man not to say anything,” Ned remarked.

  Suddenly Kiyabu’s eyes narrowed and his jaws set. “Maybe it was the man who brought the odd fish,” he declared.

  CHAPTER X

  A Daytime Ghost

  “TELL us about this man and the strange fish,” Nancy urged Kiyabu.

  The Hawaiian described the fish as being only a few inches long, with rough, scaleless skin. Because of its color and mottled markings the fish blends with the seaweed where it lives, and its paired fins enable the creature to climb about.

  “This frogfish,” Kiyabu went on, “has a great mouth, and on the snout above it is a slender ‘rod’ with a flap at the tip. The frogfish uses this as bait to lure the shrimp he eats.”

  Kiyabu said that the man who had brought the fish in a covered bucket was Mr. Ralph Emler. “Mr. Sakamaki asked him to stay to lunch and I served them,” the caretaker continued. “Later I was sent into Honolulu to find a proper aquarium for the fish. When I returned, Mr. Emler had gone. The fish lived only a few hours. And it was not until the next day when Emma was dusting that she missed the statuettes.”

  “Please describe Mr. Emler,” Nancy requested.

  The caretaker told her that he was tall, with reddish-blond hair, and had a deep voice.

  “Do you know where Mr. Emler is staying?” Nancy questioned.

  “Maybe,” Kiyabu replied. “Soon after his visit, Mr. Sakamaki grew very weak. He wrote two long letters. One was to young Mr. Sakamaki and the other to Mr. Emler. He asked me to mail them and I saw the addresses. Mr. Ralph Emler was visiting friends on Kapiolani Boulevard.”

  “Did this man come to Mr. Sakamaki’s funeral?” the young sleuth inquired.

  Kiyabu shook his head. “I never saw him again.”

  Nancy asked Kiyabu if he had any suggestions as to where she might start in trying to solve the mystery. He smiled. “I understand you are a famous girl detective. I am afraid poor Kiyabu could offer no help.”

  During the balance of the afternoon, Nancy walked round and round the Golden Pavilion, trying to figure out what its secret might be. There was no visible opening under the platform. Behind the latticework was concrete, studded with pieces of lava rock. Finally she gave up and went into the house. She made a tour of the mansion but nothing came to light which gave her any clue to the strange happenings.

  “This mystery is going to be a real challenge,” she told Ned, as they strolled outdoors after dinner.

  Dusk had fallen and Nancy said she would like to watch the Golden Pavilion for a while to see if the dancing ghost Kiyabu had seen might appear. But though they watched the building from a vantage point among the trees for two hours, nothing happened.

  In the morning, as Nancy was pondering over what new approach she could take in solving the mystery, Dave said, “Some of the other Emerson fellows have challenged us to an outrigger race. Are you all game?”

  Bess was the first to answer. “I don’t think our mixed group would stand a chance of winning. But if the rest of you want to try it, okay. Leave me out. You can have a crew of only five, anyway.”

  “You’re both right and wrong,” Dave told her. “We should have only five in the canoe, that’s true, but we’re going to win!”

  Bess, Hannah, Emma, and Kiyabu said they would come down to the beach to watch the race and root for their friends. At ten o’clock the Emerson group of paddlers appeared offshore. Nancy and George climbed into the Kaluakua’s outrigger canoe. Ned, Dave, and Burt followed, and each of them picked up a paddle. Ned sat in the stern to act as steersman.

  The outrigger skimmed over the waves and soon was alongside the other canoe. Nancy and George knew four of the boys and were introduced to the fifth, who was the steersman. “Ready? Gol” he cried out.

  The race was to be for half a mile along the beach to a buoy and back again. For a few minutes the two outriggers stayed side by side, then the one with the all-male crew began to pull ahead.

  George scowled. “They mustn’t beat usl” she called out. “Let’s put on some steam!”

  Everyone paddled harder, but they could not seem to catch up to their rivals. Finally Ned said, “I think our timing’s off. We need better rhythm. When I call out, ‘Dip—dip,’ all pull together!”

  As soon as he did, the paddling became smoother. The first canoe made the turn and started back. Soon Ned’s group reached the half-mile mark and made a close turn, losing no time. Gradually the distance between the outriggers began to close.

  Little by little, Ned urged his paddlers to dip faster. As the two canoes neared the finish line, George cried out that they must go even faster. With arms working so quickly that thev were a blur to the watchers on shore, the mixed group of paddlers finally nosed alongside the other canoe. The race ended in a photo finish!

  The hot, panting contestants lay their paddles across the canoes and caught their breaths. In a few moments, however, they were calling back and forth to one another.

  “Didn’t think you could do it!” said the steersman of the all-boy crew. “Congrats!”

  The others laughed and Burt said, “All you need are girls who paddle like boys, and you’re set!” Then he praised Nancy and George for their work.

  The five Emerson boys waved good-by and started back for the Halekulani. Nancy and her friends picked up their paddles and turned toward shore. They had not gone far when Nancy, gazing at the Golden Pavilion, gave a start.

  “Look!” she exclaimed. “A woman wearing a long white muumuu just crawled from underneath the pavilion!”

  All eyes turned in the direction of the building. The woman was standing still and the watchers wondered if she were going to dance.

  “But she couldn’t have crawled from beneath the pavilion,” George spoke up. “Kiyabu told me it has no opening.”

  Nancy nodded. “And I didn’t find any. It must be well hidden.”

  Suddenly the woman started running toward the house. A moment later she disappeared among some shrubbery.

  “Oh, she’ll probably go inside!” Nancy cried out worriedly. “I’m sure the house is unlocked, and Bess and Hannah and Kiyabu and Emma aren’t looking that way!”

  She and George tried to signal the group on shore about what was happening, but none of them seemed to understand and stood awaiting the canoeists.

  “I wonder if she’s the ‘ghost’ Kiyabu saw,” Nancy mused, “and why she’s around in the daytime.”

  “The ghostly hula dancer!” Nancy exclaimed

  The canoeists worked the paddles furiously as they came nearer and nearer the shore. Finally Dave and Burt jumped out and pulled the out- rigger up onto the beach. With a quick explanation to those on shore, the others started running toward the house.

  The woman in the long white muumuu was not in sight, but Nancy felt sure this meant she had already entered the house. “We’ll surround the place, so that she can’t escape!” the young sleuth suggested.

  The others spread out, planning to encircle the building completely. Nancy and Ned dashed up the front porch and burst through the entrance into the hall.

  At that moment, from somewhere inside the house, came a bloodcurdling scream!

  CHAPTER XI

  A Tantalizing Gift

  AS THE sounds of the scream faded, the watchers outside the house dashed in, some through the kitchen door, others through a side door to the sunroom. All ran to the front hall.

  “Who was it?” Bess cried out. “And where is
she?”

  “We don’t know, but everybody look for her!” Nancy ordered.

  Part of the group bounded up the front stairway while Kiyabu and Emma took the rear one. Nancy, Ned, George, and Burt searched the rooms on the first floor. They looked in closets, behind curtains and screens, and even underneath pieces of furniture, but there was no sign of the woman in the white muumuu. Disappointed, the whole group of searchers met once more in the front hall.

  “How could that woman have escaped from the house?” Bess asked, puzzled. “We were watching every window and door.”

  “Up to a point, we were,” Nancy replied. “But when the woman screamed, everyone who was outside came running in. It’s my guess she grasped the opportunity to go out a window at that time.”

  “You mean,” George spoke up, “that she screamed on purpose to lure us inside so she could get away?”

  “Possibly,” Nancy answered. “But also she may have been injured or frightened. I’m going to get my magnifying glass and see if I can find any clues.”

  She hurried upstairs and from one of her suitcases took the magnifying glass which her father had given her for Christmas. It was a very fine one and Nancy called it her “Pride and Joy.”

  When Nancy came downstairs again, Kiyabu followed her from place to place, his eyes lighting up with amazement as she made such amusing, but accurate remarks as: “Kiyabu, you really should ask Bess not to lean her elbows on the piano. It makes marks. And, Dave, when you dance, better not wear that tan sweater. It sheds.”

  Nancy’s friends laughed and explained to Kiyabu that the young sleuth probably could have deduced this in the pitch dark. The caretaker shook his head in astonishment and remained silent. But he continued to follow Nancy around.

  In the sunroom she stopped in front of a statue of a Japanese warrior. The figure was holding a samurai sword poised for action. Nancy examined the weapon carefully with her magnifying glass. Then she smiled.

  “I believe the lady in the white muumuu screamed because she raked her head or arm on this sword.”

  “You mean there’s blood on it?” Bess asked, horrified.

  “No, but there are tiny bits of human flesh and hair.”

  Bess shivered as Ned stepped to the window near the statue. “And she probably went out here.” He surveyed the flat, lava rock below.

  Nancy nodded. The low, open window was well hidden by bushes, and the searchers were now convinced that the woman had escaped from the house this way. Since there were no fingerprints on the window sill, Nancy concluded that the woman had sat on it, whirled, and jumped down.

  Nancy climbed out the window and Ned followed. With her magnifying glass, she examined the rocks carefully but could find no footprints. In the soft earth between a row of bushes, however, were small, light footprints.

  “The woman doesn’t weigh much,” said Ned. “Right?”

  “Right,” Nancy agreed. “And she runs gracefully. She’s probably a dancer. But all this doesn’t help to identify her. Is she the wife of one of the Double Scorps? Or is she some other intruder mixed up with the mystery of Kaluakua?”

  Directly after luncheon, Kiyabu announced two callers from Honolulu. One was a police detective, Sergeant Hawk, and the other an executor from the bank which was handling old Mr. Sakamaki’s estate. He introduced himself as Henry Dutton. The men addressed most of their remarks to Nancy.

  Sergeant Hawk spoke first. “Police Captain McGinnis of River Heights phoned Honolulu headquarters. He said your father had been in touch with him and suggested that someone from our department come to see you, Miss Drew. I understand that you have up-to-the-minute information on Mr. Sakamaki’s case, and that certain suspicious things have happened since you became interested in Kaluakua.”

  Nancy gave a full account of all she knew in connection with the mystery, including the episode of the strange woman in the white muumuu. The detective, meanwhile, was busy making notes in a small book. From time to time he asked questions. Finally he put away his pencil and smiled at Nancy.

  “This is a very fine, full report. The Honolulu police will start at once trying to locate the man who uses the names Jim O‘Keefe and Tim O’Malley. From your description, we should have no trouble locating him. Also, we shall try to find Ralph Emler.

  “As to the woman wearing the white muumuu, it’s my deduction that she does not wear this except on occasions such as this morning. So it will be more difficult to locate her. Now I would like to examine the statue on which she scratched herself and also the footprints outside.”

  Ned offered to take the detective to the two spots, so that Nancy might talk further with Mr. Dutton.

  “Would you mind telling me something about the claimants to the Sakamaki estate?” Nancy asked the banker.

  “I’ll be very happy to,” Mr. Dutton replied. “In fact, after I was informed by the police about your prowess as a detective, Miss Drew, I decided to tell you everything and ask your assistance.”

  Nancy blushed a little. “Oh, I fail sometimes,” she said modestly. “But I’ll do everything I can to be of help.”

  Mr. Dutton told her that the two mysterious claimants to the Sakamaki fortune were very reticent. Roy Chatley and his sister Janet Lee had had little to say, apparently relying on the various papers they had with them to prove their case.

  “Do they have a lawyer?” Nancy asked.

  “Not yet,” the executor replied. “But today they threatened to obtain one if we don’t accept their credentials pretty soon.”

  “There’s doubt in your mind, then, about them?” inquired Nancy.

  “Naturally. I knew elderly Mr. Sakamaki well. It seems strange that he never mentioned the California relatives.”

  Mr. Dutton paused a moment, then said, “Since the estate is so large, it is certainly worth fighting for. So far the credentials of these California people seem to be in order, but I understand your father, Miss Drew, is going to stop in California on his way here and check everything.”

  Nancy asked if there were any letters from old Mr. Sakamaki to Janet and Roy or their mother or grandmother among the papers of proof.

  “No,” Mr. Dutton answered. “The brother and sister claim to have read a news account of the will in a California paper.”

  “Where are they staying?” Nancy inquired. The executor replied that they were visiting friends named Pond in Honolulu. “I can’t remember the address exactly. I’ll send it to you,” he promised.

  By this time the police detective had finished his work. He returned to the house and a short while later the two men were saying aloha to Nancy and her friends. Both insisted that Nancy get in touch with them at once if any trouble developed at Kaluakua.

  Just before a late dinner that evening, Kiyabu came into the sunroom where the guests were seated. He presented Nancy with a long box which evidently contained flowers. The caretaker waited as she opened it. Inside was a deep purple, almost black, sweet-smelling lei.

  “How very unusual!” Nancy remarked, as she picked up the florist’s envelope containing a card. Pulling it out, she read aloud, “From the Armstrongs.”

  “Why, isn’t this sweet of them!” she exclaimed.

  Nancy lifted the black lei from the box and started to put it around her neck. Seeing this, Kiyabu snatched it from her hands.

  “Oh, please! No, no! Do not wear the lei!” he begged. “This is—this is a funeral offering!”

  Nancy was mystified. Certainly the Armstrongs were familiar with the customs of the Islands. Why would they send her such a lei? Rising from her chair, she went at once to the telephone and called Mrs. Armstrong.

  “A lei?” the woman repeated after Nancy. “Mr. Armstrong and I did not send it to you.”

  Nancy’s heart skipped a beat and she stood lost in thought. Was the lei a threat from some unknown person?

  CHAPTER XII

  The Lei Maker’s Hint

  BEFORE rejoining the group in the living room, Nancy decided to call the fl
orist where the lei apparently had been purchased.

  Fortunately, the shop was still open. But upon looking at their records, the proprietor declared that he had not filled such an order.

  “Is it true that a lei made of deep purple flowers is used as a funeral piece?” Nancy inquired.

  The florist said that this was a custom among some people. He himself did not make such pieces, and he doubted that any florist would suggest one.

  Nancy thanked the man for the information and put down the phone. More perplexed than ever, she returned to the group in the sunroom. “The lei didn’t come from that florist,” she told her friends. “It must have been made privately.” Then she explained what she had learned.

  George, curious to know more about the flowers, had picked up the lei and was examining it. “This is odd,” she said suddenly. “Scattered here and there among the flowers are sharp-pointed, brownish-colored tacks.”

  As she pointed them out, Bess exclaimed, “And wherever the tacks are, the flowers are wilting!”

  Nancy gazed at the mysterious lei. “Put it back in the box, George. I think those tacks have been dipped in poison.”

  “What!” Ned cried out, springing forward.

  Nancy explained that she thought the sender had hoped she would wear the lei, be pricked, and poisoned.

  “Oh, how horrible!” Bess exclaimed. “This mystery is getting to be dreadful.”

  Everyone was disturbed by the incident, and Ned remarked that the sender must indeed be desperate to resort to such measures. “But what I can’t understand is why should he or she want to harm you personally?”

  George answered for Nancy. “To get you away from here.”

  At this moment Hannah Gruen walked into the room. She had heard none of the conversation and everyone decided not to worry her. George quickly whisked the box of flowers behind her chair. The Drews’ housekeeper did not notice her action. She announced that dinner was ready and requested that they come to the dining room.

  Ned tarried behind and hid the box in the hall closet. He would bury the poisonous lei later, or give it to the police if they wanted it.