Mystery of the Moss-Covered Mansion Page 7

  “But the landing wheels aren’t down!” murmured the woman who had followed the girls outdoors.

  With Nancy and George she watched breathlessly. Upon landing the plane might spin around.

  Fortunately the pilot made a skillful belly landing and all the waiting friends and relatives gave sighs of relief. Mr. Drew and the Billingtons were among the first to get off. The pilot had already come out and the two men hurried to catch up to him.

  “Congratulations on your fine work!” Mr. Drew called. Mr. Billington also complimented the pilot.

  “It’s all in a day’s work,” the young captain answered with a smile, then disappeared into the offices of the airline.

  Mr. Drew introduced the Billingtons, who said they had been looking forward to meeting Nancy and her friends. As soon as they were seated in the car, Mr. Billington requested that the girls tell him about the fire.

  Nancy reported on it in detail and told him the arsonist had not been caught. “Mr. Billington, we have found Tina and Antin a complete mystery. Do you think it possible that he had anything to do with the fire?”

  “Not Antin,” Mr. Billington said quickly. “I always thought he loved my orange grove and would be heartbroken if something happened to it.”

  Nancy and George made no comment. Antin had certainly not shown this kind of regret about the burned trees and packing house.

  George told about the girls’ experience on the way to the airport. “Mr. Scarlett was positively contemptible, and he said that the Webster house had been taken off the market.”

  “Dad,” said Nancy, “could you find out if it is really true?”

  When he nodded, she added, “The girls and I have wondered if Scarlett is acting in collusion with the owner of the moss-covered mansion.” She told the men about the wild animals they had seen. “The trainer was very hostile to us. I suspect he doesn’t want any new neighbors.”

  Mr. Drew asked, “Have you talked to the police about the place?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Nancy replied, “but I’ll do 80 first thing in the morning.”

  When the Drews and their friends arrived at the Billington house, they were amazed to hear of Mr. Scarlett’s rude behavior toward Hannah and Bess.

  Mr. Drew scowled. “I don’t like his actions. I doubt that he is to be trusted. You say he went into the grounds of the moss-covered mansion furtively?”

  “Yes,” Nancy replied. “Suppose I call the police right now and ask if they can tell us anything about who lives there.”

  She phoned at once but was told she would have to wait until morning when the office with the local records was open.

  The next day Nancy lost no time in getting the information. The old house had been purchased by a man named Fortin. He had been a trainer of wild animals for a circus. Fortin had received a permit to have the beasts there as long as they were properly caged. Nancy thanked the clerk and hung up.

  “I wonder if Fortin was that tall heavy-set man with the whip,” she said to Bess and George.

  Nancy was more convinced than ever that Fortin was in back of the move to keep the Drews from buying the Webster house. He might have found out she was an amateur detective and did not want her so close. She might report that he allowed the dangerous animals out of their cages.

  “I wish I could get inside that mansion,” Nancy said. “I have a strong hunch there’s something going on between Scarlett and Fortin which has a direct bearing on the Webster property.”

  Bess spoke up. “You’d better forget it, Nancy. We came down here to solve the mystery of the explosive oranges. Why don’t we forget that place with the wild animals and go hunting for Hamlin orange groves as George suggested?”

  “I’m ready to start,” Nancy said.

  The girls set off in the Billingtons’ car. Nancy drove up one road and down another. Many people had small groves, others large ones, but none had Hamlin oranges. Most were apparently Valencias.

  At last the girls spotted a big grove of smooth-skinned Hamlins. Nancy turned into the long driveway and went to the packing house. She introduced herself and her friends to the foreman, saying they were from the North and were interested in solving the case of the explosive oranges.

  “My father is the attorney for Mr. Billington,” she said. “I’m eager to find out which grove those particular oranges came from. Can you help me?”

  The foreman, who told them his name was Tom Seever, smiled. He looked up at the darkening sky and said, “We’d better run into the packing house. I’ll tell you what I know. Looks like a heavy shower coming any second.”

  The girls hurried after him and went into the shelter. Pickers from the grove and a visitor who had just driven in began rushing inside too. By the time the rain came down hard, the place was so crowded that moving around was impossible.

  Suddenly the lights went out. A few seconds later Nancy felt a rough hand against her arm. She realized that someone was trying to cut the strap of her handbag.

  Quickly she clutched the bag in one hand and with the other grabbed the man’s wrist. Finding it, she pinched the flesh so hard that the purse snatcher cried out in pain. Instantly she could feel him moving away.

  A few seconds later the lights went on. Nancy craned her neck to look at all the people who had taken shelter in the packing house. It was hopeless to try identifying the suspect, but she saw the visitor dash to a car and drive off. Was he guilty and had he followed her here?

  The rain had stopped and the men had begun to file outside. Nancy and her friends were the last to leave the building. After talking to Mr. Seever for a few minutes about the mystery, she was convinced that there was nothing he could tell them which would cast any light on the case. All his oranges were sold to trustworthy buyers he knew well, and no fruit had been stolen.

  The young sleuth asked if he would give them directions to another Hamlin grove.

  He told her of one about a mile away and the three girls headed for Owen’s Grove.

  It was a large grove and there were many pickers at work. Nancy was directed to the office of the owner, Mr. Owen. It was in a small building that stood a short distance from the packing house.

  She went to the door and asked, “May I come in?”

  The owner rose, smiling, and said, “Yes, indeed. Won’t you sit down?”

  Bess and George had stayed outside to look over the packing house.

  The young detective introduced herself. “My father is working on Mr. Billington’s case. Since the explosive oranges that were brought into the Base were Hamlins, I wondered if you might possibly have a clue to help solve the mystery.”

  Mr. Owen said he did. “The FBI were here, of course, and I told them a suspicion of mine. One of my workers never showed up here after the affair. He was a strange, uncommunicative person by the name of Max Ivanson. We tried to get in touch with him where he boarded but were told that he had disappeared.”

  “Did he take anything from here with him?” Nancy asked.

  Mr. Owen nodded. “Several sacks of oranges were missing. We think he took them. I’ve forgotten the number now but it corresponded to the count which the NASA authorities had listed in their report about the delivery.”

  Nancy was intrigued by this information. “What did Max Ivanson look like?”

  Mr. Owen opened a desk drawer and pulled out a photograph. “This is the man. I just came across it.”

  Nancy tried not to show her surprise. Ivanson looked enough like Mr. Billington to be a brother!

  “Can you tell me anything more about him?” Nancy queried.

  “A little. Ivanson’s a bachelor. He was a good picker but would never stay to work overtime.”

  Nancy, arose. “You have been most kind and helpful,” she said, putting out her hand.

  Mr. Owen shook it warmly and wished her luck in solving the mystery. “I’m glad if I’ve been of help,” he said.

  Bess and George were excited when Nancy told them what she had found out, and discussed
the clue as they started for home. A shortcut led them past the Nickersons’ house.

  “Let’s go in,” Nancy suggested, and turned into their driveway.

  Both of Ned’s parents were home and were amazed at all Nancy had accomplished, particularly her last clue. Then the conversation turned toward the Webster house and the moss-covered mansion.

  “I certainly wish I could get inside that weird-looking place with the wild animals,” said Nancy.

  Mr. Nickerson grinned. All three girls thought how much Ned looked like his father when he smiled broadly.

  “I think I just might arrange such a visit,” Mr. Nickerson said. “I know a man who is an animal control officer in the Public Health Service. Perhaps he could make a routine inspection of the moss-covered mansion and”—he winked at Nancy —“perhaps he could take a secretary with him!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  Eerie Inspection

  “WHAT an exciting suggestion!” Nancy exclaimed. “Think of going inside the moss-covered mansion!’

  All the others agreed it was a good idea except Bess, who looked worried.

  “Nancy, please think this over. You know the trouble we almost got into with those wild animals on the outside of the house. No telling what may happen if you go indoors.”

  Nancy turned to Mr. Nickerson. “Surely it can’t be dangerous if the Health Department goes there regularly to inspect the place.”

  Ned’s father nodded. “I can soon solve this,” he said. “My friend Mr. Wilcox, the animal control officer, will know whether or not it’s possible and also safe for you to go into the moss-covered mansion.”

  He went to make the call. While waiting, George said she was envious of Nancy’s visit to the place. Bess remarked timidly, “Well I’m not. I don’t mind telling you those animals frightened me half to death.”

  Mr. Nickerson soon returned, a wide smile on his face. “Everything is arranged. Mr. Wilcox will be here tomorrow morning at ten to pick you up.”

  “That’s wonderful!” the young detective exclaimed. “I think we’d better dash home now. I’ll see you at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. By the way, Mr. Nickerson, will you request Mr. Wilcox not to introduce me at the moss-covered mansion?”

  “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “If they know your name, you might not get a friendly greeting! Anyway, since you are not a regular member of the Public Health Service staff, let the people at the mansion think of you as Wilcox’s Girl Friday.”

  This reference to the Robinson Crusoe story struck Bess funny and she began to laugh. “You’ll be Mrs. Robinson Crusoe,” she remarked. On the way home, however, Bess sobered again. “I just hope nothing happens to you!”

  “I promise to keep my eyes open,” Nancy told her friend.

  She could hardly wait for the following morning to come, but during the remainder of the afternoon, Bess kept referring to the possible dangers Nancy might encounter.

  Once she said, “Suppose that leopard mauls you!”

  George looked at her cousin severely. “Will you be quiet? Nancy is determined to go and I don’t blame her. There’s no point in trying to scare her away.”

  Bess said no more but Hannah Gruen did. She was inclined to agree with Bess. “I know Mr. Wilcox will be with you, but what protection would he be against an angry lion?”

  When Mr. Drew and Mr. Billington heard what the plan was, they took a different attitude. Both were sure Nancy could not be harmed if Wilcox was with her.

  The lawyer added, “I know you will keep alert, Nancy, and look in all directions at once.”

  Nancy bent to kiss her father and patted him on the cheek. “Are you trying to make me into some kind of a wonder of science?” she teased. “I’ve never learned to swivel my head!”

  He chuckled, then said that he and Mr. Billington were going out to have dinner with Mr. Datsun.

  “See you in the morning,” he told the others and the two men set off.

  The three girls went up to Nancy’s room to help her pick the outfit she would wear the following morning. The choice was a white dress and shoes. Nancy would arrange her hair in a bun so she would look older.

  Bess announced she was suffering with hunger pains so the trio went downstairs to have dinner with Mrs. Billington and Hannah. Once more the Resardos were not there. The rest of the evening was spent reading the latest reports of the forthcoming flight to the moon.

  “I see that there are going to be many celebrities here,” Mrs. Gruen remarked. “Even the president may come down!”

  The newspaper carried pictures of well-known press correspondents who had arrived to report the shoot. There were photographers by the hundreds and a sprinkling of visitors from other countries.

  “It’s going to be fabulous!” Bess exclaimed. “Aren’t those astronauts who are on the mission handsome?”

  “Yes, and remarkably brave and intelligent,” George added.

  Finally it was time for the group to retire. Nancy was too excited to drop off to sleep but eventually she did and woke up refreshed and ready for the day’s adventure. After breakfast the girls drove to the Nickerson home. A few minutes later Mr. Wilcox arrived and was introduced to them. He wore a khaki smock-type suit.

  “So this is the young lady who will accompany me,” he said, smiling at Nancy, “and act as secretary for the trip.” He handed her a stenographer’s pad and a pencil. “Take lots of notes,” he added with a wink.

  Nancy laughed. “I understand. Some for you and some for me.”

  The two went to the car. Nancy noticed a pair of asbestos gloves on the seat.

  “I wear those whenever I have to go inside a cage,” he explained.

  When they arrived at the moss-covered mansion, Wilcox turned into the narrow path that wound through the orange grove and the jungle to the house. He parked and they walked up the steps of the old-fashioned house.

  The Public Health officer rang the bell. He and Nancy stood waiting but there was no answer.

  “Maybe the bell doesn’t work,” Nancy suggested.

  Her companion pounded loudly on the door. After a long while it was opened a crack. Nancy’s heart began to beat a little faster. Would the huge man with the whip open the door?

  Wilcox called into the crack, “Mr. Fortin?”

  “Yes,” came the answer. “No visitors allowed!”

  “I’m Wilcox from Animal Control of the Public Health Service,” he told him. “I have an order to inspect your place again. Here are my credentials.”

  All this time two dogs had been yelping and barking in the background. Mr. Fortin certainly had protection, Nancy thought.

  “Wait until I tie up these animals,” the owner said.

  He closed the door and was gone so long that Nancy thought perhaps he was not going to let them in. Finally the door opened.

  “No visitors allowed!” Fortin said sharply

  Fortin was a slender man about fifty years old with a reddish complexion. It flashed across Nancy’s mind that he did not give the appearance of an animal trainer. His hands were rather soft-looking, not like those of a person used to heavy work. He escorted the callers through the center hall and out to the kitchen. He opened a rear door which gave a view of the many cages backed up against the house just beyond the kitchen door. Nancy got her notebook ready.

  “These cages look very clean and the animals well-kept,” Wilcox remarked, and Nancy wrote this down.

  She followed him outdoors and around the three sides of the cages which seemed to be well-constructed. Each had a sheltered area.

  “Very good,” said Wilcox.

  All this time Nancy’s eyes had been roaming around the jungle. She could not detect anything suspicious.

  Fortin led the way back inside the house and headed for the front door. At once Wilcox spoke up. “I have orders to look over the whole mansion.”

  The owner frowned and said, “Why is this necessary? A license issued to me to keep the animals certainly doesn’t permit the Public
Health Service to pry into my private life!”

  Wilcox replied, “Those are my orders. There could be vermin in the house from those wild animals.” Before Fortin could object, Wilcox started up the stairway. Nancy followed, then Fortin.

  After a quick inspection of the second-floor rooms, Wilcox said, “Everything seems to be all right.” He turned to Fortin. “I thought maybe you had some small animals up here.”

  “Well I don’t!” Fortin snapped.

  He started down the stairway, but Nancy held the health officer back. She whispered, “See that door over there? It probably leads to the third floor.”

  Her companion nodded. “I want to take a look upstairs, Mr. Fortin,” he called and walked over to the door.

  As Wilcox opened it, the owner’s face turned red with anger, but all he said was, “You’ll find nothing up there. It’s an old tower.”

  Nevertheless, Wilcox climbed the stairs, with Nancy at his heels and Fortin behind her. The tower had windows which looked out on the ocean. In front of one stood a powerful telescope.

  “That came with the house,” Fortin explained. “It’s so old I guess it was put in soon after the people built the place. They probably watched the ships at sea.”

  Nancy had walked over and looked through the telescope. She could plainly see the Space Center and the rocket that would take the astronauts to the moon.

  “Everything okay?” Fortin asked in a sarcastic tone.

  “Everything’s okay,” the Public Health officer replied, and Nancy wrote this down, along with her observations relating to the telescope.

  As the visitors were coming down from the second floor, Nancy noticed a man in the lower hall. He was the big fellow with the whip! Instinctively she held the notebook partly across her face so that she would not be recognized.

  When they reached the foot of the stairs Fortin ignored her. He introduced his associate to Wilcox as Joss Longman, saying he was the best animal trainer in the world.

  Wilcox nodded, then checked through the first floor with Nancy. They found nothing suspicious. Back in the hall the two men were waiting for them sullenly.