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ПРИЯТНОГО ЧТЕНИЯ!
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Forty-One
The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes
Copyright © 1964 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
Warnings not to go to Scotland can't stop Nancy Drew from setting out on a thrill-packed mystery adventure.
Undaunted by the vicious threats, the attractive young detective - with her father and her two close friends - goes to visit her great-grandmother at an imposing estate in the Scottish Highlands, and to solve the mystery of a missing family heirloom.
And there is another mystery to be solved: the fate of flocks of stolen sheep.
Baffling clues challenge Nancy's powers of deduction: a note written in the ancient Gaelic language, a deserted houseboat on Loch Lomond, a sinister red-bearded stranger in Edinburgh, eerie whistling noises in the Highlands. Startling discoveries in an old castle and in the ruins of a prehistoric fortress, on a rugged mountain slope and in a secluded glen, lead Nancy closer to finding solutions to both mysteries.
Wearing a time-honored tartan, Nancy climbs the mountain of Ben Nevis in the dark of night and plays a tune of historic heroism on the bagpipes -all part of her daring plan to trap the sheep thieves and to recover the valuable heirloom.
CHAPTER I
Mysterious Heirloom
“Nancy, lass, would ye fly off wi’ me to the land ’ bagpipes and kilts?” Mr. Drew asked her with a grin. “And how do you like my Scottish accent?” he teased.
His daughter burst into laughter. “It’s ver-r-ry good!” Nancy replied. “And will I be wearin’ a kilt and dancin’ to the pipes?” she countered, trying to imitate her father.
“You’ll be solving a mystery,” Mr. Drew answered in his natural voice. “The mystery of a missing heirloom—an heirloom of great value which was supposed to come to you, but has been mislaid or lost.”
Nancy’s eyes opened wide with interest. “It’s me? And it’s in Scotland?”
Mr. Drew, a lawyer, explained that Nancy’s maternal great-grandmother, Lady Douglas, who lived in Inverness-shire, had recently written to him. She intended to turn over her large house and estate to the National Trust of Scotland. This had been founded to preserve old castles, ruins, and other places of historic interest.
“In the case of the Douglas property, the transfer cannot be made until a number of relatives have signed releases,” Mr. Drew went on. “Lady Douglas has asked me to get these signatures and also donations for an endowment from interested members of the Douglas family in the United States. In order to do this, I must go to Scotland and find out more about the case.”
“The heirloom—” Nancy began, but was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. “Excuse me, Dad. I’ll see who it is.”
The caller was Ned Nickerson, a college student who often dated Nancy. He had just returned from a trip to South America.
“I want to come over and tell you about it,” Ned said.
“Oh, have dinner with us,” Nancy replied. “Ned, it’s wonderful to hear from you!” She laughed. “This will be sort of hello and good-by. Guess what! I’m flying to Scotland!”
“That’s great!” Ned answered, then said, “Well, I’ll see you at seven.”
Nancy returned to her father and told him about the call. “Now, please tell me more about my heirloom,” she begged.
Mr. Drew smiled. “I don’t know what the heirloom is—your great-grandmother didn’t say. She only mentioned that it was missing.”
At once Nancy was intrigued. “Was it lost in the house?”
“Lady Douglas didn’t give any further details.”
Nancy looked into space for several moments. Finally she said, “Could it have been stolen?”
“I suppose so,” her father replied. “Now, I’ll tell you about the trip to Scotland. In the first place, I must confer with lawyers in Glasgow, then Edinburgh. After that, we’ll go up to Douglas House.”
“It sounds terribly exciting!” said Nancy. “And it will be such fun going on a trip with you and also solving a mystery.” She grinned. “Especially since I’ll be looking for something that I know hardly anything about. And Douglas House is probably very beautiful.”
Mr. Drew agreed. “I have been to Douglas House only once, and everything was very handsome. I can understand why the National Trust will be happy to open it to the public as a place of historic interest.”
The lawyer said he would like to do a little work before dinner, so he went into his first-floor study. Nancy entered the kitchen, where the Drews’ pleasant-faced housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, was just taking a lemon meringue pie from the oven.
“That looks luscious!” Nancy remarked.
Hannah Gruen had been mother and counselor to Nancy ever since the time she was a very young child, when her own mother had passed away.
The housekeeper looked fondly at Nancy. She was proud of the slender, attractive, titian-haired girl whose penchant for solving mysteries had brought fame and respect to the Drew household. From The Secret of the Old Clock to the revelations in The Moonstone Castle Mystery, Nancy had spent a great deal of her later teen-age years helping people uncover mysteries which were troubling them.
For the next hour. Nancy and Hannah Gruen talked about the proposed trip to Scotland and what clothing the girl should take. Nancy recalled to Hannah the almost unbelievable, fairy-like tales about her great-grandmother’s life as the wife of a member of the House of Lords.
“To think that I’m going to see her at last!”
Hannah Gruen smiled. “I hope that heirloom is something small. This house is so full of trophies and objects from all over the world there isn’t a corner left for another one!”
“Maybe we’ll even have to move the piano out!” Nancy teased.
Just then the front doorbell rang and Nancy went to answer it. Ned Nickerson stood there, a wide grin on his handsome face. Nancy thought that next to her good-looking, athletic father, this special friend of hers was the nicest man she knew. He stood high in his classes at Emerson College, played football, and recently had been sent on a special assignment to South America in connection with his courses.
“Hi!” he said. “I left my car right back of yours on the street. Okay? Would you like me to put yours in the garage?”
“After a while, yes,” Nancy answered. “But first, come and tell me all about yourself.”
When they were seated in the living room, and Ned had described some of his exciting trips into the jungles, he remarked, “Nancy, in case you get lonesome in Scotland and want a mystery to solve, I can tell you about one.”
Nancy’s blue eyes sparkled. “What is it?”
Ned said that he had recently read in a newspaper about a ring of thieves who were stealing sheep and lambs in the Highlands of Scotland. “The authorities are baffled, so here’s your chance, Nancy. You may as well solve the case of the poor gimmers!”
“The what?” Nancy asked.
“A gimmer is a young female lamb. Incidentally, how long will you be away, Nancy?”
“Dad didn’t say. In fact, I doubt that he knows himself.”
Ned gave a great sigh. “I’ll have to talk to your father about getting you back here by June tenth.
My fraternity is giving a big windup party for the season,” he announced. “You just have to be there.”
“I ought to be able to make it,” Nancy replied. “It’s now the middle of May.” She smiled broadly. “I’ll do what I can to speed up my sleuthing.”
“Good!” From a pocket Ned took out a small package and handed it to Nancy. “A souvenir from South America,” he said.
The gift was a very unusual pin made of wood carved to represent a laughing monkey.
“He’s adorable!” Nancy said, as she pinned the monkey on her blouse. “Thanks a million, Ned.”
“The natives say it will bring good luck to the wearer,” Ned informed her.
“Well, that’s what I’ll need if I expect to solve two mysteries in Scotland,” Nancy told him, and explained about the missing heirloom.
Later, as they were finishing dinner, the telephone rang. Nancy excused herself to answer it. An excited girl’s voice came over the wire. “Oh, Nancy, you’ve helped me win the most wonderful prize!”
“Bess Marvin,” Nancy said to her blond, slightly plump but very attractive friend, “what are you talking about?”
Bess did not answer the question directly. “It’s for two and you have to share it with me!”
“I? How? What is it?” Nancy exclaimed.
“It’s so utterly marvelous I know you won’t object. Nancy, this is what I did. I read about a contest offered by the magazine Photographic Internationale. A photograph had to be submitted. I used a picture of you sleuthing.”
“What!” Nancy exclaimed, utterly amazed. She begged for more information and a clearer explanation of what had happened.
“We won a trip!” Bess almost shouted over the wire.
“Bess, please—”
But Bess had to tell the story in her own way. “Nancy, do you remember the picture of you with a magnifying glass, looking at the footprints?”
“Yes. Is that the one you sent in?”
“It’s a wonderful picture!” said Bess. “It won first prize! And the prize is a trip for two to anywhere I want to go. Since you helped me win it, I think you ought to go with me!”
By this time Nancy, overwhelmed by the news, had dropped into the chair alongside the telephone table. She detested publicity, and here she had suddenly and inadvertently been brought to the attention of the reading public!
Bess raided on. “You’ll be famous all over the world! Newspapers and magazines and just everything will be printing the story!”
Nancy actually felt weak. If she was going to do any sleuthing in Scotland, the last thing she wanted was to be recognized. “Maybe I’ll have to go incognito,” she thought.
After a prolonged silence, Bess asked worriedly, “Are you still there? Don’t you like—”
Nancy was suddenly jerked out of her reverie by a terrific crash on the street outside the Drew home. “Bess, I’ll have to call you back,” she said and hung up quickly.
By this time Ned had reached the hall. He and Nancy dashed outdoors and down the driveway toward the street. A dismaying sight met their eyes. An old but heavy truck had rammed head on into Nancy’s car. That, in turn, had smashed into Ned’s automobile.
Nancy was heartsick. She was very fond of her blue convertible which had played a big part in helping her solve mysteries. At first glance it looked to be a total wreck.
Nevertheless, her thoughts turned at once to the unfortunate driver of the truck. As she and Ned ran at top speed toward the accident scene, she said worriedly, “Oh, I hope the man isn’t badly injured!”
CHAPTER II
A Plaid Clue
When Nancy and Ned reached the smashed-in cab of the old truck, both closed their eyes for a second before getting up enough courage to look at a sight they dreaded to see. A light on the Drew grounds illuminated the twisted wreckage enough for them to view it clearly.
An expression of amazement came over Ned’s face. “No one’s in the cab!” he exclaimed.
Instantly Nancy realized that the door had been forced open. Perhaps the driver had been thrown clear! She quickly searched the street and around the truck, but no one was in sight.
“Ned, did you see anyone running away?” Nancy asked. Ned shook his head.
The couple examined the wreckage further. It was evident that no one was wedged between the pieces of crumpled metal and upholstery.
“Nancy, how could anyone have been in a smashup like this and not been injured?” Ned asked.
“I’m sure no one could have,” Nancy replied. “It’s my guess that the truck driver jumped out before the crash and ran away.”
Ned set his jaw. “This could even have been done on purpose!” he exclaimed.
“But why?” Nancy asked. “Why would anyone want to wreck my car?”
Now that she knew there was no injured person involved, she too became angry. Her beautiful convertible was ruined! She turned aside so that Ned could not see she was biting her lips to fight back tears.
While she was regaining control of her emotions, Ned dashed to the rear of the truck. “No license plate!” he fumed. “This proves the crash was caused deliberately!”
“Maybe we can trace the person by the engine number,” Nancy suggested. “I’ll get a flashlight.”
As Nancy started up the driveway, she met Hannah Gruen and her father. Mr. Drew carried a flashlight in his hand. A moment later neighbors began to arrive. Everyone was amazed to learn that apparently the truck had run itself into Nancy’s car.
Meanwhile, Nancy and Ned were searching the wreckage for the engine number. Finally they found the place where it had been, but the figures had been cleverly scratched so as to be illegible!
“Now we have proof this whole thing was done on purpose!” Nancy told her father. “What I can’t understand is why.”
The lawyer frowned. “What did the person hope to accomplish?” he asked. “Obviously, he wasn’t trying to injure you or Ned. And you hadn’t planned any particular trip in your car, nor were you using it on any mystery.”
Hannah Gruen offered to notify the police, while the others continued their investigation. First, they looked at Ned’s car. Fortunately, there was no damage other than broken headlights and two bent fenders.
Next, they began searching the truck for clues to the owner or driver. There was no name or initials, but Nancy remarked that the police laboratory would be able to detect any lettering which might have been painted over.
“Have you looked inside the truck?” Mr. Drew asked his daughter.
“Not yet,” Nancy answered.
She climbed into the back and beamed the flashlight around. There was nothing on the floor or sides. The person or persons who had caused the crash had removed every kind of identification.
In a few minutes a police car and two wreckers arrived. Flashlight photographs were taken and a fingerprint expert went to work on the wheel and door handles. The man reported that too many people had handled them to make a positive identification of any one set of prints.
“We’re getting nowhere I” Nancy whispered to her father and Ned.
Presently the officers came over and queried the Drews, asking who they suspected might have perpetrated the incident.
“We have no idea,” the lawyer replied.
As soon as the wreckers had hauled off Nancy’s car and the truck, Ned taped Mr. Drew’s flashlight and one of Nancy’s onto the front of his car.
“I’d better get to a garage and have new headlights put in,” he said. Before leaving, he added cheerily, “Nancy, if the police don’t solve this mystery right away, suppose I try my hand at it while you’re in Scotland?”
“That’s a good idea,” she agreed.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to see if the police have found out anything,” Ned said. He drove off, and one by one the neighbors sauntered back to their homes.
The Drews and Hannah Gruen went into the house and sat down to discuss the whole affair. But suddenly Nancy jumped up. “Bess!” she exclaimed. “I forgot that I promised to phone her back!”
When the connection was made, Bess complained, “What happened to you? I’ve been waiting here for ages!”
When Nancy told her what had caused the delay, Bess burst out, “How perfectly dreadful! And what an awful person to do such a thing! Well, I certainly hope the police find him!”
“I do too,” said Nancy. “But now, tell me more about this trip you won.”
Bess revealed that the trip could be made to any place in Europe. By the time she finished speaking. Nancy had an idea.
“Why don’t you take your cousin George? Then we three girls can go with my dad.”
“Do you mean it?” Bess asked.
“Of course I mean it.”
“Where is your father going, by the way?”
“To Scotland. There are two mysteries waiting to be solved. Wouldn’t you and George like to help tackle them?”
Bess’s cousin, George Fayne, had been invaluable to Nancy in her detective work. She was level-headed and very courageous. She liked her name George, and tried to live up to it by wearing boyish haircuts and plain-tailored clothes. She was dark-haired, slender, and athletic.
“I’ll phone George right away and let you know,” Bess offered.
Within ten minutes she called back excitedly. “Everything’s arranged! When do we leave? And will your dad make the reservations?”
Nancy hurried to ask her father. “We’ll start three days from now,” he told her. “I’m glad the girls are coming along.”
When Nancy relayed the news, Bess gasped. “Three days! We’ll make it, but my goodness what a rush! I’m glad we have our old passports.”
Nancy soon said good night to her father and Hannah Gruen and went to her room to start her packing. When she finally went to bed, the weary girl drifted off to sleep immediately. She was awake early, and helped prepare a breakfast of fresh strawberries, bacon and eggs, and muffins.
Not long after Mr. Drew had left the house, the postman arrived with a handful of letters. One, which was printed and bore no return address, was for Nancy. Curious, she opened it quickly. As she read the note inside, she gave a gasp of amazement. “Bad news. Nancy?” Mrs. Gruen asked. “Yes, in a way. This is a threat!” “Oh, my goodness!” the woman exclaimed, and took the letter. Aloud she read: “ ‘Your wrecked convertible is just the first of a series of accidents that will befall you and any car you ride in.’“ The note was unsigned.
Nancy, fingering the envelope, thought she felt something inside it. She reached in and drew out a tiny square of plaid cloth.
“It’s a piece of Douglas tartan!” she cried out. Hannah Gruen looked perturbed. “What does this all mean?” she asked worriedly.
Nancy was silent for several seconds. Finally she said, “My guess is that the writer of this note is warning me that the accident is connected with my trip to Scotland. I wonder if it could have anything to do with the missing heirloom. Hannah, maybe whoever wrote this message is the thief and he doesn’t want me to try finding it.”
“But this letter was postmarked here in River Heights!” the housekeeper objected.
Nancy’s forehead wrinkled in deep thought. “Maybe the valuable heirloom was shipped to this country. Anyway, I’m going to turn the note over to the police.”
Nancy went off to do this, then spent the rest of the day shopping and talking to the garage repairman and to an agent of her automobile insurance company. Nancy was thankful that the convertible could be repaired, although the job would take some time. So far, the police had uncovered nothing regarding the owner of the truck or the person who had caused the wreck.
That evening Nancy and Hannah decided to take their terrier, Togo, for a little run. Mr. Drew was working in his study.
Half an hour later Nancy, after a long sprint, said, “Togo, you have me out of breath! I think you’ve had enough fresh air for tonight. Home we go!”
With the peppy terrier pulling on the leash, Nancy and Mrs. Gruen hurried home. Just as they started up the driveway, they saw a figure slip furtively away from the front of the house and go off toward the rear of the property. At once Nancy and the dog went after him, but by the time they reached the backyard, the man had disappeared.
At last they returned to the housekeeper, who declared, “Whoever that person is, his business wasn’t honest or he wouldn’t have sneaked away.”
“I agree,” said Nancy. “Let’s see if we can find any clues to his identity.”
She put Togo in the house, then took a flashlight from a drawer in the hall table. Nancy began looking for footprints and found some faint dirty marks coming up the steps to the front porch. Another set led away. Before Nancy had a chance to try following them, Hannah cried out, “Something just started ticking in the mailbox!”
Nancy turned quickly and looked at the wrought-iron mailbox which was fastened to a hook alongside the front door. An expression of horror came over her face.
“It’s a bomb!” she cried out.
CHAPTER III
Unwanted Publicity
As Nancy dashed forward to yank the mailbox from the hook, Hannah Gruen warned, “Don’t touch it!”
“The ticking just started,” Nancy replied quickly.
In a split second the box was in her hands. She flung it far out onto the lawn. Nancy and Hannah waited breathlessly. So far there had been only five ticks. Six—seven—eight—nine—
BOOM!
The explosion ripped the box apart, dug a deep hole in the ground, and scattered dirt, stones, and debris in all directions.
The noise brought Mr. Drew outside on the run. “What happened?” he asked.
By this time Hannah, her knees trembling, had dropped into a porch chair. As Nancy began to speak, the housekeeper rocked back and forth furiously.
“It’s terrible!” she said weakly.
Nancy felt somewhat shaky herself, but assured her father they were unharmed.
Mr. Drew was greatly concerned. “You two might have been killed!” he cried out angrily. “The perpetrator of this crime must be found!”
The lawyer said he would phone the police. As he disappeared into the house. Nancy went to the lawn and examined the fragments caused by the explosion. Her sharp eyes soon detected fresh bits of paper with writing on them.
“That’s funny,” she thought. “We’ve already taken in today’s mail. Surely the person who planted the bomb didn’t leave a note.”
Nancy gathered up all the paper scraps she could find and showed them to Hannah, still seated on the porch. “I wonder when this note was put into the mailbox. Have you any idea, Hannah?”
The housekeeper frowned. “Well, just before dinner tonight, the doorbell rang. When I went to answer, no one was there. Do you suppose the person who left the note rang the bell and then ran?”
“Possibly.” More puzzled than ever. Nancy went into the house and spread the scraps of paper on the dining-room table. It took her a while to place the tiny fragments in their proper positions. Although parts of words were missing, she could clearly get the meaning of the message. It said:
Drew is going to bomb you!
Nancy stared at the warning. Who had sent it? “And who or whatever is Drew?” she asked herself.
Hannah and Mr. Drew walked in to say that two policemen had arrived and were making moulages of the prowler’s footprints. Nancy showed them the message.
The housekeeper threw up her hands in dismay. “I’m glad you’re both going to Scotland. It certainly isn’t safe for you around here!”
Nancy and her father were forced to agree, but Nancy added, “Even if I have a mysterious man for an enemy, I think I have an unknown woman for a friend. This looks like a woman’s handwriting.”
“Yes, it does,” said Mr. Drew. “However, your unknown enemy is very sly. Who knows where he may strike next?”
While they were talking the front doorbell rang. The caller was Chief McGinnis of the River Heights police force. He and the Drews had often cooperated on solving local mysteries.
The chief was ushered into the dining room. After greeting Nancy, the middle-aged, good-natured officer said, “I want to hear about this whole mystery. Start at the beginning. Nancy.”
She did so, and ended by showing him the message on the table.
He whistled softly. “If you have a piece of cardboard and some glue, I’d like to paste this warning together and take it to headquarters.”
Nancy produced glue and cardboard and together they accomplished the tedious job. By this time the policemen had completed their work outside the house and reported to the chief. The two men then said good night and left.
Nancy continued to study the handwriting on the strange note. She was sure that it held a good clue to the solution of the mystery. Procuring a piece of tracing paper, she copied the message.
Chief McGinnis laughed. “Is this a challenge?” he asked. “I hear you’re leaving for Scotland in a couple of days. You’ll have to hurry it you’re going to beat me in finding the writer of this note!”
Nancy chuckled. “It will have to wait. I’ve already planned some sleuthing for tomorrow.”
In the morning Nancy told her father she was going to inquire of various shopkeepers if they had seen any Scottish persons in town who were strangers to the community. “Such a person might have sent that piece of plaid.”
“Good luck!” he called as Nancy left the house.
She went from place to place, putting her questions but receiving only negative responses.
“That plaid lead certainly didn’t pay off,” Nancy told herself as she started for home.
As she walked up the main street her eye was attracted to the window of a photographic shop. Staring straight at her was her own photograph!
Nancy hurried to the window. In the center of the display was a copy of Photographic Internationale. On the cover was the picture of Nancy sleuthing with a magnifying glass.
“It’s pretty good,” she thought. “But oh, how I wish Bess had won the trip some other way!”
Nancy was so intent upon the magazine that she did not notice she was slowly being surrounded by a throng of curious persons. As she turned to leave, a cheer went up and everyone began to clap. This attracted the attention of more people, who came hurrying from every direction.
“It’s really you—Nancy Drew!” exclaimed a little girl in the crowd. “You’re famous!”
“You’re the girl detective!” cried another.
Suddenly a boy pushed his way through to Nancy and begged, “Please, miss, may I have your autograph?” The boy had big, blue pleading eyes. He was very shabbily dressed, and Nancy guessed that his family had little to spend on clothes. She smiled sympathetically and wrote her name on the piece of paper he held out.
“Oh, thank you!” The boy grinned and moved to the back of the crowd.
“I want one too!” said a little girl, running forward. “But I haven’t any paper.”
“Oh, that’s all right, honey,” said Nancy. She opened her handbag and took out a small notebook. After writing her name on one of the pages, she tore it out and handed the signature to the child.
This became the signal for a dozen children to push forward and ask for Nancy’s autograph. She graciously obliged, but as several adults came up, the young sleuth shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said politely. “I did it just for the children.”
As she spoke, Nancy noticed that the shabbily dressed little boy was still at the rear of the crowd. To her annoyance, he was actually handing her autograph to a man, who in turn was giving the boy a dollar bill for it!
“Why, the idea!” Nancy thought. She called out to the man, “I said the autographs were only for the children. Please give that back!”
Instead of doing this, the man gave her a supercilious grin. “Thanks, babe,” he shouted. “This will come in handy!”
He wheeled and hurried down the street. Nancy was furious. Instinct told her he was a person of whom to beware. She must get back that paper!
Pushing through the surprised crowd, she dashed down the street. Her quarry, who had had a good head start, turned a corner. When Nancy reached it, he was nowhere in sight. Disappointed, she retraced her steps and once more started up Main Street.
To her relief, the crowd at the photography shop had dispersed. The only one who lingered was the little boy who had sold her signature.
Seeing Nancy, he rushed to her side. “Please, may I have another autograph?” he asked.
Nancy was angry. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she faced him squarely. “To sell?” she asked.
The little boy began to quiver. “N-no,” he stammered. “It’s just for me.”
“Who was that man you sold my autograph to?”
The boy began to cry. “I don’t know—honest I don’t. After you said you wouldn’t give out autographs to grownups, he waved that dollar bill in my face and I couldn’t say No. My mother needs money awful bad.”
Nancy released her grip on the boy’s shoulders. He kept insisting he was telling the truth. “All right,” said Nancy finally, taking the note pad from her purse. “Suppose you give me your autograph, and write down your address too.”
The lad gladly did so. Nancy took it and said, “Johnny Barto, some time I will come to your house, and if I find you have been telling the truth, I’ll give you another autograph.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “All right?”
The boy smiled back, said he was sorry, and shuffled off. Nancy was tempted to follow him, still a bit suspicious that he did know who the purchaser of her signature was. Various thoughts flashed through her mind. Why was the man so eager to obtain the signature? Did he plan to use it in some illegal way?