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ПРИЯТНОГО ЧТЕНИЯ!
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Fifty-Four
The Strange Message in the Parchment
Copyright © 1977 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
A SHEEP farmer receives a mysterious telephone call shortly after he buys a series of pictures painted on parchment. “Decipher the message in the parchment and right a great wrong,” the voice says. Puzzled, the owner asks Nancy to help.
With Junie, his daughter, Nancy tracks down a kidnapper and a group of extortionists. Clues weave in and out of several puzzles, two of which are linked with Italy. Is there a connection between the message in the parchment and a boy artist on another farm? And who is responsible for the atmosphere of fear in the neighborhood?
After several harrowing experiences, Nancy begins to tighten the net around a ruthless villain and calls on the assistance of her friends Ned, Burt, Dave, Bess and George to bring his nefarious schemes to a dead end.
CHAPTER I
Stolen!
“IT’S perfectly beautiful!” Nancy exclaimed.
She was standing in front of a long mirror in the Drew hallway, admiring herself in a sheepskin jacket. Near her stood a girl of the same age, eighteen. The two were of identical height and slender, but Nancy was a strawberry blond with blue eyes, while the other girl had brown hair and eyes.
“Junie Flockhart, you’re a darling!” Nancy said, hugging her friend, a former schoolmate. Junie’s family had moved many miles away, to a large sheep farm.
Junie smiled. “You know, Nancy, you were always one of my father’s favorites. When I told him I was coming here to visit, he sent you this gift. By the way, how would you like to solve a mystery for him?”
Nancy’s eyes sparkled. A mystery!
At this moment a motherly, middle-aged woman came into the hallway to greet Junie and admire the sheepskin jacket. She was Hannah Gruen, the Drews’ housekeeper, who had been a mother to Nancy since the girl was three and her own mother had passed away.
“Did your father make the jacket?” Hannah asked Junie.
“Yes,” she replied. “At one end of Triple Creek Farm he has a factory that produces sheepskin articles. Dad also makes parchment from the sheep’s skins.
“He has a marvelous collection of parchments from all over the world,” Junie went on. “Some are very old. A few have illuminated writing on them in foreign languages; others have beautiful painted pictures.”
“I’d love to see them,” Nancy put in.
“You will if you come home with me to solve the mystery. My father has a parchment that has four lovely small paintings on it. He is intrigued by the parchment because of a strange phone call he received soon after he bought it. A man who didn’t give his name said the picture had a message. Anyone who could figure it out would bring happiness and comfort to several people, and right an old wrong.”
“That’s strange,” Nancy replied. “If the man knew this, why didn’t he tell the whole story?”
“He hung up abruptly,” Junie answered, “as if someone had approached him and he couldn’t say any more. Everyone in our family has tried and failed to decipher the meaning of the picture.”
“I’d like to try to solve the mystery,” Nancy said. “When do I start?”
“As soon as you can get ready. And say, why don’t we have a house party? Ned, Burt, Dave, Bess, George, and my date, Dan. I know you’ll like him.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Nancy replied. “What do you think, Hannah?”
Mrs. Gruen smiled. “The instant I heard there was a mystery to solve at Triple Creek Farm, I knew you’d want to go. I think the idea is great. If your father hasn’t any special work for his sleuthing daughter, I’m sure he’ll agree.”
Nancy took off the sheepskin jacket and laid it on a chair in the living room for her father to see when he came home. Then she went upstairs with Hannah and Junie to look through her closet and select appropriate clothing for the trip.
“Don’t bother with a lot of dresses,” Junie said. “At the farm we just about live in jeans, shirts, and jackets.”
All this time Hannah Gruen had been grinning. “Junie, you’ve never seen Nancy when she’s trying to solve a mystery. She’s like a hound on a scent and never gives up until she has caught the villain!”
Junie was about to say something, but just then Nancy whispered, “Listen! I heard the front door close softly. Let’s find out who’s there.”
She and Junie hurried down the stairs. No one was in sight and when Nancy called out, asking who was in the house, there was no answer. Then she noticed something strange.
“My new jacket is gone!” Nancy cried.
The girls stared at the empty chair.
“My beautiful sheepskin jacket must have been stolen!” Nancy exclaimed.
She rushed to the front door and opened it wide, just in time to see a girl disappearing around the end of the curved driveway. She was wearing the sheepskin jacket!
“Let’s chase her!” Nancy urged. She whistled for her little terrier, Togo, who hurried from the kitchen. “Come on, old boy! We must catch a thief.”
“Come on, Togo! We must catch a thief!”
Togo followed her and Junie out the door. For a few seconds the dog ran alongside Nancy. As soon as they reached the street, however, and his mistress pointed to the fleeing thief, he knew what he was supposed to do and bounded off. The stranger had a good head start and was running like a trained athlete.
“We’ll never catch her,” Junie said.
“She must be a professional thief,” Nancy added. “She was so quiet she didn’t even disturb Togo.”
Junie wondered how the girl had known about the coat. “Of course I carried it in a plastic see-through bag,” she said. “That girl may have noticed it and followed me from the train to your house.”
Nancy nodded. “She may have been spying and when we went upstairs, she came in. But how did she get in?”
By now Togo had almost caught up to the stranger. At the same moment all three girls saw a policeman in the distance. The thief, realizing it was useless to proceed, quickly turned into a driveway.
By the time Nancy and Junie reached the spot, the suspect was out of sight. Togo was returning, however, to present them with a chunk of cloth, which he held in his teeth. Nancy reached down and took it.
“This is a piece from that sneak thief’s skirt!” she exclaimed. “What a great clue! Togo, you’re a clever little dog.”
Togo barked as though he were urging Nancy to continue the search. “Maybe the thief is hiding,” Nancy said.
The girls raced down the driveway to the rear of the property, where there was a hedge. Nancy’s jacket lay on the ground in front of it! Togo pulled it along the ground, growling all the time.
Nancy picked it up. “Togo, you’re marvelous! You scared that girl into discarding the jacket when you took a piece out of her skirt!”
“Let’s go on!” Junie urged. “Maybe we can catch her.”
The girls parted the hedge and went through. The thief was not in sight. Trying to guess which direction she had taken, they ran into the adjoining yard. Here the two searchers separated, one going along the left side of the house, the other to the right.
Within a few seconds they met on the front sidewalk and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of the person they wanted.
Nancy heaved a sigh. “Anyway,” she said, “I’m thankful to have my beautiful jacket back. And Togo got a good clue we can take to the police.”
The little dog was jumping and barking. Junie looked puzzled.
“Togo is asking for further instructions from me,” Nancy explained. She leaned over and patted him once more. “He’s eager to continue the case. I—”
Nancy stopped speaking abruptly when Togo barked again. This time he leaped to the pavement and ran alongside a car that was speeding down the street.
“What’s Togo doing that for?” Junie asked. Without replying, Nancy started running also. Her first thought was to keep Togo from being killed if the driver, either accidentally or deliberately, swerved and hit him.
“Togo, come backl” she cried out.
The little dog paid no attention. Suddenly Nancy caught a glimpse of the young woman on the passenger side and realized why. The dress matched the sample Togo had snatched from the thief’s skirt!
The car’s driver, evidently sensing the situation, put on speed. Out of breath, Nancy stopped. She was in time to catch the number on the license plate and memorize it. Togo had given up the chase, too, and returned to Nancy on the sidewalk.
“Thank you, Togo,” she said, hugging him. “Now we’ll go.”
Junie hurried up to them and was told of Nancy’s discovery. She was astounded at the rapidity with which clues were mounting.
“All you have to do,” she said, “is report the license number to the police. They’ll learn who the car’s owner is, the name of his passenger, and catch the thief.”
“I hope it will be that easy,” Nancy said. “But—”
“But what?” Junie asked.
“The driver may not be the owner of the car.”
“You mean, he might have stolen it?”
“Right. If he did, he’ll probably abandon it. Another possibility is that the driver does not know his passenger. She could have hitchhiked and not given her name.”
Junie’s look of hope faded. “And here I thought it would be easy. Well, it may still be. Let’s think positive, Nancy, and go to the police with a report.”
CHAPTER II
Triple Creek Farm
“LET’s go back to the house first and get my car,” Nancy suggested. “It’s some distance to the police station. Then we’ll show Chief McGinnis the shred from the thief’s dress and the jacket. He’s a good friend of mine.”
Junie asked, “What can the police find out from the jacket?”
“Sometimes they discover the most amazing facts about the person who wore a garment.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, the blood type, kind of skin, height, weight, male or female—”
By this time her friend from Triple Creek Farm was laughing. “Don’t tell me any more. I’m lost already.”
When they reached the house, Nancy took Togo inside and told Hannah where they were going. Then, taking along the new jacket, Nancy backed her sleek blue car out of the garage and drove to headquarters. Chief McGinnis greeted the girls enthusiastically.
“Nancy, I know you have come to tell me about a mystery. I see it in your eyes. What is it this time?”
Nancy grinned, then introduced Junie. She told the middle-aged, good-natured man she was trying to track down a thief.
“Junie brought me this beautiful jacket from her father’s sheep farm, but a short while later, a girl sneaked into our house and stole it.”
Chief McGinnis looked puzzled. “You say this jacket was stolen?”
“It was. But we got it back.” Nancy told him about the whole incident and produced the piece of material from the thief’s skirt. Her eyes twinkled. “You see, Chief McGinnis, I even have Togo trained to be a detective.”
“He’s very clever. Maybe you ought to put him into our Canine Corps!” the chief replied. Then he promised to alert his men and have them track down the thief, using the shred of cloth she had brought as a clue. Nancy told him the license number of the car in which the girl had escaped.
“I’ll trace it at once,” Chief McGinnis said.
Nancy explained that the thief had actually worn the coat and run in it for several blocks. “Then she saw a policeman ahead, and Togo was close to her heels. So she threw the jacket onto a hedge. Do you think you might find any clues to her from this?”
“I don’t know. But if you’ll leave it here, together with the cloth, I’ll have our lab inspect them carefully.”
Nancy thanked the officer and the two girls said good-by. That evening Mr. Drew was amazed to hear the story, and wondered how the thief had entered their home. Nobody could explain it and for several seconds there was silence in the living room, where the family had gathered with their guest.
Suddenly Togo, who had been lying on the floor with his ears cocked, jumped up, stood on his hind legs, and walked around.
Junie laughed. “How cute!” she remarked. “Not only is he a detective dog, but a trick dog!”
Nancy explained that there was more to the gesture than that. Whenever Togo was trying to convey a message to anyone in the family, he would do this. The little dog now dropped to all fours and hurried to the front door. Nancy followed and asked the others to join her.
As they watched, Togo got up again on his hind legs and held the handle of the door in his fore-paws. Next he put his teeth around the handle and presto! the door opened. The Drews and Junie looked at the animal in astonishment.
“You little scamp!” Nancy said to him. “You’re the one that left the door open so the thief could come in!”
Togo acted very pleased with himself. He danced around some more and gave several short barks.
“That was a neat trick,” Mr. Drew remarked, “but I think we’ll have to put an extra lock on the door. One that Togo can’t reach and open for burglars.”
Togo seemed to understand. His tail dropped, a sad look came to his eyes, and he lay down.
As Nancy patted him, she told her father about the invitation to Triple Creek Farm. “Bess and George and also Ned, Dave, and Burt are to be invited for a house party up there.”
The lawyer’s eyes twinkled. “With a mystery to solve and a house party included, I don’t see how you could refuse.”
Nancy kissed her father, then immediately went to call her friends and give them the exciting invitation. Nancy would go ahead with Junie; the other guests were to follow later.
While she was on the phone, Mr. Drew said to Junie with boyish pride, “I have a few sheepskins of my own. Come with me and I’ll show them to you.”
He led her into his study. Between bookcases and pictures hung framed diplomas. One was from high school, another from college, and the third and most impressive was from law school.
“I see you graduated from all three places with honors,” Junie said. “My congratulations!”
“Thank you,” the lawyer replied. “The other day we were discussing the laws governing the ownership of sheep in your state. If you have a flock and any of the sheep are killed by wild animals, will the state reimburse the owner for his loss?”
“Yes,” Junie replied. “And wild dogs are also classed under the heading of wild animals. It has always amazed me how dogs differ. Wild dogs will kill sheep and eat them, but those that have been reared from puppies by human beings love the sheep. They guard them and take care of them. We have several sheep dogs at the farm. My favorite is Rover.”
The conversation was interrupted by Nancy, who reported that all of their friends would be able to visit Triple Creek Farm.
“Bess and George can make it next weekend,” she said, “but the boys are uncertain when they can come. They’ll try to visit at the same time as the girls.”
Nancy went on to say that her friend Ned Nickerson had told her about an interesting artist who lived in the vicinity of Triple Creek Farm. She asked Junie if she had ever heard of Vincenzo Caspari.
Junie shook her head. “I never have, but my parents may know him. Why did Ned mention him?”
“I was telling Ned about the strange phone call regarding the parchment. He said this man might be able to help us.”
The girls went to bed early and were up at seven o’clock, packing their bags. By nine they drove off, with good wishes from Mr. Drew and Hannah Gruen. They took turns driving Nancy’s car, since it was a long ride. Afternoon shadows were lengthening as the travelers finally reached the six-hundred acre Triple Creek Farm.
“What a wonderful place!” Nancy exclaimed, as Junie turned into a long lane that led to the farmhouse.
Though the building had many wings and extensions in every direction, it was attractive and inviting. Mr. and Mrs. Flockhart were there to welcome the girls.
The owner was a large, handsome man with graying hair. Nancy thought his beautiful gray eyes looked as if they had stars shining in them.
Junie’s mother was small and dainty. Although her daughter resembled her, Junie was already half a head taller than Mrs. Flockhart.
After making Nancy feel very much at home in the roomy, comfortable house, which was furnished with beautiful antique furniture, Mr. Flockhart tweaked Junie’s chin. “It’s high time you got home, young lady,” he said. “The lambs are crying for you.”
Junie laughed and explained to Nancy that she worked for her father. Her job was to look after the newborn sheep. These were kept in a special barn with individual stalls, so they would not be endangered by other animals.
As the group walked into the living room, Nancy noticed a framed, glass-covered picture hanging over the fireplace mantel. It measured about twelve by twenty inches.
“Is this the mystery picture?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “Nancy, it’s all yours to solve. We’ve given up.”
“But let’s not start now,” Mrs. Flockhart begged. “Dinner is ready.”
After the meal was over, Nancy looked at the parchment paintings again. The first of the four was of a beautiful woman; the second a young man with his back to the viewer. Nancy was intrigued by the third picture. It portrayed a group of angels surrounded by clouds. The figure in the center was holding an infant. The last painting depicted a collision between a steamer and a sailing vessel.
Junie and her father had walked up behind Nancy. “What thoughts are going through your mind, young lady?” Mr. Flockhart asked. “I’ve never had the pleasure of being this close to a detective in action before. I’d be interested in hearing your ideas.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t much to offer at the moment,” Nancy said. “My first reaction is that the picture tells a story about a family. There was happiness in the beginning, but then tragedy struck. I think there is a connection between the second and last paintings. Perhaps something happened to the man at the time of the accident.”
“Do you have an inkling of what the strange message might be?” Junie queried.
“I haven’t the faintest notion,” the girl detective replied, “but give me a little time. When I’m on a case, the facts are foremost in my mind. I refer to them off and on. My best thinking hours seem to be late at night or early in the morning.
“By the way, Mr. Flockhart, have you met an artist named Vincenzo Caspari, who lives in this area?”
The answer was no, and Junie’s father asked why Nancy wanted to know.
“Ned Nickerson thought he might be able to help us,” she said.
Mr. Flockhart went to the phone and called the artist. A woman who answered said Mr. Caspari would be out of town for a few days.
“I’ll call again,” Mr. Flockhart said.
Nancy and Junie were weary from their long ride and retired early. The following morning they dressed in shirts and jeans, had a quick breakfast, then went to the barn where the newborn lambs were. Nancy fell in love with each baby as she came to it.
Suddenly she exclaimed, “Why, here’s a pure black one lying down! Isn’t he darling?”
The man in charge walked up to the girls, and Junie introduced him as Finney.
“Something happened to this poor little fellow,” he reported. “Maybe he got stepped on. Anyway, he can’t stand up. I guess we’ll have to send him over to the slaughterhouse.”
“Not yet,” said Junie quickly. “Let me look at him.”
She entered the stall. As Nancy and Finney watched her, she manipulated the lamb’s legs, massaging them, then rubbing the little animal’s body. To the onlookers’ amazement the little black lamb stood up and bleated “Baa!”
“Well, I’ll be—he’s gonna be all rightl” Finney exclaimed.
“I think he will be,” Junie said jubilantly, watching the black lamb closely. Then she explained to Nancy that she had had some training in animal massage.
Nancy had noticed that outside there was a great deal of activity, carts and trucks going in both directions. Most of them contained full-grown sheep. Wishing to watch this part of the operation more closely, she walked out of the barn. Junie followed.
Just then a high-powered car roared around the corner of the barn, put on speed, and headed in the girl’s direction. The driver made no attempt to swerve out of their path.
Horrified, Nancy and Junie jumped back against the wall to avoid being hit!
CHAPTER III
Plaintive Bleating
THE big car whizzed past Nancy and Junie, missing them by inches as they braced themselves against the wall of the barn. On the passenger side stood a sassy little dog, who leaned out the window and gave quick staccato barks.
The driver yelled at him, “Shut up!” But the dog paid no attention.
The man stopped abruptly and jumped out of the car. He was short and stocky and had a swarthy complexion. He walked back to the girls, and without a greeting of any sort he said to Junie, “Where’s your father?”
Before replying, Junie asked, “What was the idea of almost running us down? We might have been killed!”
When the man ignored her question, she went on, “Mr. Rocco, this is my friend Nancy Drew from River Heights. Nancy, this is a neighbor of ours from across the hill.”
Rocco did not acknowledge the introduction. His beady black eyes stared into Nancy’s blue ones for a few seconds, then he said, “I’ve heard your name somewhere. In the papers, maybe? Have you ever been in jail or in some other kind of trouble?”
Nancy was taken aback by this rudeness. She merely said, “No.”
Junie squeezed her friend’s hand and indicated she was to say no more. She herself addressed the man. “Mr. Rocco, I think my father is at the factory. At least, that’s where he usually goes in the morning.”
Without another word, the crude visitor turned on his heel, went to his car, and jumped in. He drove off rapidly, his dog still yapping.
Junie said to Nancy, “Isn’t he horrid? But we have to be nice to him because he’s one of my father’s best clients. By the way, would you like to go to the factory and see how parchment is made?”
“Yes, I’d like that very much,” Nancy said and the two girls got into the Triple Creek jeep and went off.
As they approached a string of one-story buildings, Junie said, “Some of these places are pretty smelly from the animals. Think you can take it?”
Nancy assured her she could and in any case, she would put up with it in order to learn about parchment making.
The first place was the shearing room. Several men were cutting the thick wool from the sheep’s bodies. They were using electric knives, which operated very quickly. Now and then one of the sheep bleated pleadingly and Nancy realized that a knife had gone too close and nipped the skin.
As soon as all the wool had been taken off, the sheep were driven into the next building through a fenced-in alleyway. The girls left the shearing room and walked to the slaughterhouse.
“I see what you mean by smelly,” Nancy remarked, holding her nose for a moment. “When Bess and George get here, I’ll bet Bess won’t come near this place. She not only can’t stand bad odors, but she can’t watch any living creature being killed.”
Before the sheep were slaughtered, they showed great fright and their bleating caused a terrific din in the place. Junie told Nancy that after being killed, the animals were hung up to drain. Nancy nodded silently, not looking too happy.
“I guess you’ve had enough of this,” Junie said understandingly. “Let’s go in the next building. That’s more civilized!”
Here the skins of the animals were skillfully removed so that the meat underneath would not be damaged. As soon as the carcasses were ready, they were carried to a waiting refrigerated truck.
“From here they go to wholesale meat plants,” Junie explained. “My father is not involved with that part of the business.”
“Now what happens?” Nancy asked.
“I’ll show you how the hides are treated before it is possible to make them into parchment,” her friend replied.
In the next building men were busy shaving and scraping the tough hairs from the skins of the sheep.
“When these are ready,” Junie said, “the hides will be covered with lime. This is done to absorb excess fat. The next step is to douse the hides in a pure water bath, then hang them up to dry. You can see some of them over there being stretched on frames. This is to make them smooth.”
“There’s a lot of work involved,” Nancy remarked.
“You’re right,” Junie agreed. And the farm girl made Nancy laugh by reciting an original ditty:
Junie had a little lamb.
She kept it in a stall.
But Daddy took the lamb away;
Now it’s a parchment on her wall.
“Junie, you’re a great poet!” Nancy said. “Let’s see if I can do as well. Nancy thought for a few seconds, and then she recited a rhyme of her own:
Junie had a little lamb.
It really got her goat
When Daddy took the pet away
And made her friend a sheepskin coat!
“Very clever!” Junie praised. “We’re so good we should go in the poetry business.”
“Not so fast, partner,” Nancy cautioned. “First we will have to solve the mystery of your father’s parchment.”
“Righto. Well, back to my duties as a guide. The last process in making parchment is again scraping the hides and then sandpapering them. By that time they will look like your father’s diplomas.”
“What if a sheep has real thick skin?” Nancy asked.
“Then it’s possible to separate the outer from the inner layers. Very fine vellum is made from the inner layer. That’s the most expensive kind of what we normally call writing paper, but it’s really not paper at all because it’s not made from the wood of trees. Can you imagine going into a fine stationery store and asking for a box of sheepskin to use for letters?”
Nancy chuckled. “Right. The salesclerk would think you’d escaped from a funny farm. By the way, can you make parchment and vellum from other animal hides, too?”
“They use the hides of calves and goats, but they’re coarser than sheepskin, so my dad doesn’t bother with them.”
Nancy said it had been a very interesting and enlightening tour.
“Oh, the sightseeing isn’t over yet,” Junie replied.
“Really? What else is there to visit?”
“I want you to meet a very interesting character who works for my dad. He has nothing to do with this factory, though. He’s an elderly shepherd who lives high on one of our hills and takes care of a large flock of sheep. His name is Ezekiel Shaw, but everyone calls him Eezy. I won’t tell you any more about him now, but you’ll like him. I have a walkie-talkie in my car for him.”
Junie drove the jeep partway up the hill, then parked it. “We’d better walk from here. Sometimes the engine of this jeep disturbs the sheep. They’re timid and scare easily.”
Almost immediately a beautiful sheep dog came to meet them. “Hello, Rover!” Junie said to him, ruffling his thick fur. “Rover, this is Nancy Drew, who is visiting me. Make her welcome to Triple Creek Farm.”
Rover sat down and put up his right paw to shake hands. Nancy responded and patted the dog lightly on the back of his head.
“I’m glad to meet you, Rover,” she said. “I take it you guard the sheep.”
The dog seemed eager to be off. Junie said he probably felt he should get back to Eezy, his master. The girls followed him as quickly as they could, but could not worm their way among the sheep as easily as the dog did.
Nancy and Junie finally reached the top of the hill. Before them stood a small cabin with trees around it. The place was quiet and well kept.
“Is that where Eezy lives?” Nancy asked.
“Yes. But when the weather is good, as it is today, he’s usually outdoors. He must be around here somewhere. Often he’s seated on that big rock over there. From that spot he can look all around and see if any of the sheep need attention, or if there are any prowlers.”
“What kind of prowlers?” Nancy asked.
“Oh, rustlers who come to steal sheep, or sometimes wild dogs.”
Junie began calling Eezy’s name. There was no response from the elderly shepherd.
“This is strange,” Junie said. “I wonder where he is.”
Suddenly Rover began to bark wildly and to zigzag quickly among the sheep. He headed down the slope at a different angle from the direction the girls had taken to come up.
“Let’s find out where Rover’s going,” Junie suggested. “I suspect trouble.”
She and Nancy hurried down the hillside. By now all the sheep seemed disturbed. They began to move around, and a few started to run. Had the dog caused this, or was there some other reason?
Far down the hillside the girls could hear both Rover’s bark and the sheep’s loud bleats.
Junie looked worried. “Now I’m sure there’s trouble of some kind down there. We’d better find out what it is—and fast!”
CHAPTER IV
Eezy Shaw
NANCY followed her friend as fast as she could. The sheep were everywhere. Some were standing, others were lying down. In her haste to keep up with Junie, Nancy decided to hurdle some of the animals. Once, while jumping across an old sheep that was lying down, she stepped on the tiny tail of a younger one. Immediately there was a loud baaaaa.
“I’m sorry,” Nancy called back, as she sped on.
When the girls neared the lower end of the hill, they noticed two men running as fast as they could toward a road at the foot.
“They must have caused the disturbance,” Nancy called. She asked, “Do you know who they are?”
“No,” Junie replied. “Maybe they were trying to rustle our sheep.”
“That’s bad,” Nancy remarked.
The men were too far ahead for the girls to get a good look at them. Junie said she still did not recognize either one of them. A moment later the two intruders jumped into a waiting car that roared off.
Rover had been after the men, but could only scare them away. When he realized the girls were coming down, he turned and trotted up to their side.
“Good dog!” they both said, and Junie hugged him affectionately. As the three climbed the hill, Nancy asked, “I wonder where Eezy is?”
“I do, too,” Junie replied. “It’s not like him to leave his station, especially if there’s any trouble and the sheep are disturbed.”
As soon as the girls reached the top of the hill where Eezy’s cabin stood, they began to call the shepherd’s name. When there was no answer, Junie went inside the house. He was not there.
Puzzled, she said to Nancy, “I can’t imagine what happened.” She leaned down to the dog and said, “Rover, where is your master? Go find Eezy. Take us to Eezy.”
The beautiful animal cocked his head. Then, as if understanding what was wanted of him, he sniffed along the ground, apparently trying to pick up the scent of Eezy’s footprints. Presently he disappeared into a small copse of trees. Meanwhile, the girls looked all around the cabin and some distance beyond it. There was no sign of Eezy, nor any clue as to what had become of him.
“This is really strange,” Junie remarked. “Eezy has never left this place since he became a shepherd here.”
At this moment Rover began to bark wildly. Nancy and Junie followed the sound, which led them to an area in the copse of trees. The faithful dog was standing beside his master, who lay stretched out on the ground, unconscious!
“Oh!” the girls cried out and knelt down next to him.
The shepherd was just beginning to revive. He mumbled and presently Nancy caught the words, “I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away.” [1]
Nancy looked at her friend for an explanation. Junie said that Eezy was a very religious man, who often quoted the Bible to explain the philosophy behind some situation. “I think he’s blaming himself, perhaps for letting some of the sheep be rustled.”
“It looks as if you and I got here just in time,” Nancy said.
Junie nodded and gave the stricken man some first aid to help him regain full consciousness. He did not respond at once, so Junie said, “Nancy, you try it.”
Nancy did and in a short while the shepherd opened his eyes wide, then smiled wanly. Finally, with their help, he got to his feet.
“This is no kind of reception at all,” the slender, elderly man said. “And, Junie, I see you’ve brought a beautiful young lady to meet me.”
“Yes, this is my friend Nancy Drew,” Junie told him.
“Sorry I was sleepin’ when you came up,” Eezy said. “Next time I’ll be wide awake, I promise.”
The girls looked at each other, then Junie said, “Eezy, you were not just asleep. You were unconscious. What happened to you?”
The shepherd hung his head. “I see I can’t keep anythin’ from you. Well, two men came up here to see me. We didn’t quite hit it off. They got mad and knocked me out. Never gave me a chance to fight back.”
Nancy explained that she and Junie had seen two men running very fast down the hill with Rover after them.
“But,” Junie added, “before we got close enough to identify them and see their license plate, they sped away in a car.”
“That’s just as well,” Eezy said. “They’re tough, bad people. Take my word for it. And don’t get involved with ’em.”
Junie begged the elderly shepherd to tell them why the men had been there. Eezy shook his head. “I’m not goin’ to say anything more about ’em ’cept that they wanted me to do somethin’ I don’t approve of. We had just better let it go at that.”
By now Eezy seemed to have recovered his strength, and he walked back with the girls to his cabin. “May I invite you lovely ladies to join me in a glass of cool lemonade?” he asked. “This is the time of day I like to wet my whistle.”
Nancy and Junie accepted and followed the shepherd inside. The place was immaculate and attractively decorated with furniture Eezy had made. He was pleased that the girls were interested in his handicraft.
He did not refer to the unfortunate incident, except to say that he was mighty thankful to Rover for having run the men off the premises.
Nancy asked, “Where was Rover when the men were here?”
“I think he was off chasin’ a wild dog, maybe. I heard another dog bark.”
“I have something for you in the jeep,” Junie said. “My father asked me yesterday to bring you a walkie-talkie. If you have any more unwanted visitors here, just call the farmhouse and reinforcements will come at once to help you.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Eezy said. “I hope I won’t have to use it.”
As the girls walked to the car to get the instrument, Junie said, “It’s too bad Eezy didn’t have the walkie-talkie sooner.”
“I wonder if he would have had a chance to use it,” Nancy said. “Obviously he talked to the men first, but didn’t realize they would beat him up.”
Junie nodded. “Now that he knows, he can call if he sees them in the distance.”
When the girls returned to the cabin, Junie showed the shepherd how to use the walkie-talkie.
Eezy’s eyes twinkled. “I can call you now and ask you to come up and keep me company!”
“You do that,” Junie said, then the girls bid him good-by. On the way home they discussed the incident.
“Have you any idea what the men could have wanted that Eezy didn’t approve of?” Nancy asked.
“Not the slightest,” her friend replied. “Of course, I suspect that they might have been trying to bribe him into helping them rustle sheep. But then it might have been something more personal that Eezy didn’t want to talk about.”
Nancy asked if there was much sheep rustling in the rest of the neighborhood.
“No,” Junie replied. “There are only a few sheep farms around here besides Dad’s. More than likely, since they had only a car with them and planned to steal sheep, they would have taken only one or two for food.”
“Then it’s more of a puzzle than ever what they wanted Eezy to do that he wouldn’t, and his refusal made them so mad they knocked him out.”
Junie suggested that perhaps her father might have some ideas on the subject, so after dinner that evening she asked him. He thought for some time and wrinkled his brow. “I don’t like this. There are so many miles of unguarded fields in this area that all kinds of things could happen. The attack on Eezy bothers me. It’s too bad you didn’t get a better glimpse of those men.”
Nancy said they were of medium height and build. Both wore hats pulled far down, so she could not see the color of their hair or their skin.
“Hm,” Mr. Flockhart said, “I’ll alert the State Police to keep an eye open.” He went to the hall telephone to call them.
While he was gone, Nancy stared at the parchment over the mantel. Then she got up and stood beneath it, taking in every detail.
When Mr. Flockhart returned to the room, he said, “I see you have already started looking for clues to solve the mystery of my parchment.”
Nancy admitted that she had noticed only one thing so far. She could not find an artist’s name on it.
“That’s right,” he agreed.
“The first picture,” Nancy went on, “is of a lovely woman but she’s not doing anything to indicate what part she is playing in the message.”
“That’s true,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “What about the second one?”
Nancy studied it for several seconds. “A portrait of the upper part of a man, but a rear view,” she said. “All I can see is that he seems stocky and has dark hair. That’s not much help.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“The third picture is the most intriguing of all,” Nancy went on. “See that group of angels in flowing robes floating in the heavens? And the one in the center is holding an infant. All the others are looking at it adoringly. It’s just beautiful. Only a very fine artist could have painted that.”
Nancy now concentrated on the fourth painting, the scene of a sailing ship being rammed by a steamer.
“I think it’s an accident that really happened,” Junie said. “Nancy, what’s your guess?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps the steamer is wrecking the sailing ship intentionally. I’m sure there’s a message here. But what?”
Turning to Mr. Flockhart, she asked, “From whom did you buy this parchment?”
“From my neighbor, Sal Rocco,” Junie’s father replied.
Nancy instantly remembered the unpleasant man and became very thoughtful. “Did he tell you where he got it?”
“He said he bought it at an auction, but was tired of it and agreed to sell the parchment painting to me.”
“Does he know what it means?”
“No. I asked him if there was any story to it, and he said not as far as he knew.”
“Have you ever taken this parchment out of its frame?” Nancy went on.
“No,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “Why?”
“There might be a message on the back, or at least a clue to one.”
“Good idea,” Mr. Flockhart said. “Let’s take it out right now!”
CHAPTER V
Bird Attack
THE mystery picture was carefully framed, and looked as if it had never been opened. Mr. Flockhart removed the backing, then slid out the parchment. He held it up for the others to see.
“It’s even more beautiful out of the frame!” Junie exclaimed.
Mr. Flockhart handed the picture to Nancy, who turned it over.
“Here’s an initial,” she noted. “It’s an A.” She flipped the picture over to look at the front again. In a moment she exclaimed, “The A is directly in back of the baby who is being held by the angel!”
Mr. Flockhart said, “I wonder if it has anything to do with St. Anthony.”
The others doubted this, and Junie asked, “Is there another notation on the back?”
Nancy looked closely. “Yes, there is,” she said, excited. “In the lower right-hand corner are the initials DB, and under it is printed Milano.”
“Milano?” Mr. Flockhart repeated. “That must mean Milano, Italy, although there is one in Texas.”
Nancy turned to him. “I assume Mr. Rocco is Italian. Perhaps he brought the parchment from Italy.”
“That’s a logical guess,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “He might have bought it at an auction over there.” He smiled at Nancy. “I can see why you are known as such a good detective. Just by taking the parchment out of the frame you’ve come up with a couple of clues already!”
“Oh, don’t compliment me now,” she answered modestly. “Wait until I’ve solved the case.”
Junie teased, “Your next stop may be Milano!”
“I think we should go and see Mr. Rocco,” Nancy said. “He might be able to tell us more.”
Junie’s father agreed, but said, “Not tonight, please. Wait until morning.”
Nancy asked Junie if she knew the way to the Rocco farm. The girl shook her head. “I’ve never been there. Dad, can you tell us how to get to Mr. Rocco’s?”
“Sure,” Mr. Flockhart said and gave the girls explicit directions. “As you know,” he added, “I don’t care for the man. Please be very careful while you’re there. He may become suspicious that I’m sending you over to see him with some ulterior motive in mind. I don’t want that to happen. After all he is a good customer and I’d hate to lose his business.”
Nancy and Junie said they understood and would follow his instructions. Then they went to bed early so they would be well rested for their mission.
The following morning after breakfast they drove to the Rocco Farm. When they arrived, the girls noticed that the house and grounds were surrounded by a high fence. There were two iron gates blocking the entrance.
The friends looked at each other in dismay. “Your father was right,” Nancy said. “This man must be suspicious of everyone in the area to barricade himself like this. What a terrible way to live!”
Junie tried to open the gates, but found that they were locked. “Stymied already,” she said.
“Here’s a bell,” Nancy said, pushing the button. “We’re not defeated yet. Where there’s a will, there’s a way!”
The girls waited, but no one came to answer their call. Nancy pressed the button again, holding it firmly in place for several seconds. Still there was no response of any kind.
“I can’t imagine that there’s no one around,” Junie remarked. “Surely there must be someone to come and let us in.”
Nancy said that perhaps the owner did not want any visitors. “Or maybe the bell doesn’t work,” she added. “Are you game to climb over the fence with me, Junie?”
“Sure.”
Since both girls were wearing jeans and shirts, it was not much trouble for them to get over the enclosure. In front of them was a long lane, bordered on both sides by a stone wall.
“Not a very inviting place,” Junie remarked, gazing ahead. “Soon we’ll see a sign saying, ‘Beware of the people who live here. They may bite.’ ”
Nancy laughed, then said, “Let’s keep our eyes and ears open. We don’t want to miss anything. Look over there. Several cars are parked near the house. This proves somebody is home. Probably Mr. Rocco is having a very private meeting and doesn’t want any outsiders around. That’s why he wouldn’t answer the bell.”
The girls went on. They had almost reached the stone farmhouse when they became aware of great fluttering overhead. Startled, they looked up. The next second a huge flock of black birds descended and attacked the visitors viciously!
The vicious birds attacked Nancy and Junie.
“Ouch!” Junie cried out. “That hurts. Get away from me!”
She and Nancy tried hard to fight off their unfriendly attackers. The large birds had long claws and prominent beaks. Each girl put one arm over her face and with her free hand tried batting at the birds to make them fly away. But their efforts seemed hopeless, and the battle continued.
Making no headway, Nancy and Junie began to scream as loudly as they could. “Help! Help! Someone please help us!”
Their cries were almost drowned out by the raucous noise made by the birds. No one answered the girls’ pleas, so in desperation they dropped to the ground and doubled up, putting their heads and arms under their bodies. This seemed to anger the birds, who made more noise than ever and pecked mercilessly at the helpless visitors.
Once Nancy raised her head and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help us! Quick! We need help! Hurry!”
Whether it was her cry that was heard by the men in the house or the frightening noise of the birds, the girls did not know. Several men rushed out, yelling. Finally the birds flew off.
One man walked up to Nancy and Junie and asked in an unpleasant, demanding voice, “What are you doing here? Don’t you know this is private property?”
Junie explained that her family was a neighbor to Mr. Rocco and they had come to see him on an important matter. “Please take us to him.”
“You can’t visit him now,” the man replied. “He’s in conference. How did you get into the grounds?”
Neither girl answered. They were staring at their interrogator and at the other men who by now had arrived at the scene. All of them looked tough and unfriendly. Rocco’s pals resembled underworld characters, Junie and Nancy thought.
“Who owns those birds?” Nancy asked. “Mr. Rocco?”
In a surly voice one of the group replied, “What makes you think anybody owns them? In any case, it’s none of your business. What right do you have to ask questions? Now get out of here before you cause any more trouble.”
Junie asked him, “Will you please unlock the gate?”
The man squinted at the girls and said, “No, I won’t, and neither will anybody else. We’ve had enough guff from you smart alecks. You got in here; now get out. But don’t try any funny stuff, because I’ll be watching you!”
With no choice Nancy and Junie hurried down the lane. The man who had ordered them out followed at a distance. He made no move to open the gate, so once more the girls were forced to climb the fence.
Junie then drove toward Triple Creek, but took a road traversing the neighboring village. “Let’s stop at the general store and get some ice cream,” she said. “All that exercise has made me hungry. Besides, when I get mad I get hot, and something cool will taste good.”
The girls went into the store, which included a few tables where customers could eat sandwiches, cookies, and ice cream.
Nancy and Junie sat down. Presently a woman came to wait on them, and after serving heaping saucers of vanilla ice cream topped with whipped cream and pecans, she stopped to talk to them. Junie introduced her as Mrs. Potter, and said she managed the store for a friend. She then told the woman of the girls’ recent experience.
“You know Mr. Rocco, don’t you?” Junie said. “What can you tell us about him?”
The woman stiffened. “Nothing good,” she replied. “Besides, he has some men working for him that I don’t like. They were in here one day, talking to me. I couldn’t agree with a thing they said. I never want to see them again and I hope from now on they’ll all shop in another store.”
“Could you tell us why you don’t like him?” Junie asked.
“No, I’d rather not. It was something concerning my work, and I don’t care to discuss it. Sorry.”
The girls respected the woman’s wishes and said no more. As soon as they had finished their ice cream, they left the store.
After they were in the car and on the way home, Nancy asked Junie if Mrs. Potter was always so abrupt.
“Oh, no,” Junie replied. “She’s a very nice person and usually full of fun. I can’t understand why she acted the way she did.”
Nancy was silent for a few minutes, then said, “It’s my guess she has been intimidated, perhaps by the same men and in the same way that Eezy was!”
CHAPTER VI
“No Speak English!”
LATER, when Nancy thought Mr. Rocco would be free, she called his home. Another man answered and said he would get the owner. Several minutes passed but no one returned to the phone.
“Maybe he had to go a long way to find Mr. Rocco,” Nancy reasoned.
A few minutes later, she thought, “It wouldn’t surprise me if Mr. Rocco didn’t want to talk to me after I climbed his fence!” She could not understand, however, why her call had not been disconnected. Over and over she said into the phone, “Hello? Hello? Hello!”
Finally she heard Mr. Rocco, who was not very cordial. He said, “If you want to see me, I’m glad you called up for an appointment. I don’t like people who climb over my fence uninvited!”
Nancy apologized for having done this but added in a pleading voice, “Junie Flockhart and I were eager to see you. When we thought the bell didn’t work, we took a chance. Please forgive us.”
“What do you want?” Rocco asked abruptly without acknowledging the apology.
“I have come across some very interesting information that I would like to discuss with you—but not over the phone.”
After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, Mr. Rocco said, “You know I am a very busy man.”
“Oh, yes,” Nancy replied, “but we won’t take up very much of your time. Please. We’d like to talk to you as soon as possible.”
“How about next week some time?” the man asked.
Nancy’s heart sank. Next week! She could not wait that long. “We were hoping that perhaps we could see you tomorrow,” she said.
There was another long pause, then Mr. Rocco said, “What’s the hurry?”
“I’ll be able to tell you that when we get together,” Nancy answered. “Couldn’t you spare a few minutes tomorrow morning, say at nine o’clock?”
“Nine o’clock! I make my workers get up at six!” the man said.
“Any time you say will be all right with us,” Nancy told him.
Mr. Rocco reluctantly agreed to eight o’clock and added, “Don’t be late. I can’t stand tardiness.”
Nancy thanked him and cradled the phone. She went to tell Junie of their early appointment.
“Oh, Mr. Rocco is impossible, just as my father said!” Junie exclaimed. “But we’ll be there. In fact, I suggest we arrive at his home by quarter to eight so he won’t get mad. By the way, congratulations for persuading him.”
Nancy smiled. “It was a bit of a problem, but it worked.”
The two agreed to go to bed early in order to awaken in time for their conference.
The following morning they arrived promptly at quarter to eight. In response to the bell the gate swung free. A man opened the door to the house and said he would see if Mr. Rocco had finished his breakfast. Nancy and Junie looked at each other but said nothing. What about Mr. Rocco’s bragging that he made his workers get up at six o’clock?
Nancy thought, “He’s a bit of a slave driver.”
In a few minutes the farm owner appeared. He neither smiled nor shook hands. Instead he growled at them, “I told you not to be late but I didn’t want you to come so far ahead of our appointment, either!”
Junie said that the girls would wait until he was ready. Both she and Nancy felt that this unpleasant man tried to intimidate anyone with whom he came in contact. When Rocco realized that his method did not work on the girls, he scowled and paused for several seconds before replying to his callers.
“You don’t have to wait. But be quick about what you want. I haven’t much time, you know.”
Without hesitation Nancy said, “We are very interested in the parchment you sold to Mr. Flockhart. Did you bring it from Italy?”
“Yes,” Rocco replied. “I bought it at an auction there.”
“Can you tell us anything about it?” Nancy went on.
“I don’t know anything about it. At first I liked the figures painted on the parchment, but a while ago I got tired of looking at them, so I decided to sell the picture. It’s very fine work and brought a nice price. I guess Mr. Flockhart recognized a good thing when he saw it.”
“The parchment’s lovely,” Nancy agreed. Then she asked Mr. Rocco if he had ever taken the parchment out of its frame to look for anything of interest that might have been written on the back.
The man stared at his visitors intently. “No,” he said. “It never occurred to me. Did you find something?”
The two girls glanced at each other. They thought it best not to tell him what they had discovered.
“Oh, we studied it, but there wasn’t much on the back,” Nancy said lightly.
Rocco did not inquire just what they had discovered, and the girls were glad. Suddenly the man bombarded them with questions.
“Why this great interest in the parchment? Do you feel there is something wrong with it? Is your father sorry he bought the painting? Does he expect me to buy it back?”
Mr. Rocco paused, but only long enough to catch his breath. “You young whippersnappers come barging into my home and hammer me with questions. What’s going on? I think I have a right to know.”
By this time the man was very excited, and for a short time Nancy felt guilty about upsetting him. Then she thought of several things that had happened and her attitude changed. She said she was sorry if she and Junie had harassed the farm owner. They meant no harm. Their main interest was to learn the background of the parchment. This seemed to satisfy Mr. Rocco for the time being.
Junie changed the subject and asked Rocco, “Were you ever married?”
“No!” Rocco said quickly, and did not volunteer any more information. Instead, he stood up as if he were afraid Nancy or Junie might ask more questions he did not want to answer. He indicated that the visit was over.
The girls walked to the front door, with Rocco following them stiffly. On the way home in the car, Junie said, “I wonder why Mr. Rocco was so unwilling to give us anything but the barest information about either the parchment or himself.”
Nancy said she thought he was a man with many secrets, which he had no intention of divulging.
Junie remarked, “I just think he’s an old grouch. How are we going to find out anything about the picture he brought from Italy if he won’t talk?”
Nancy thought for a few seconds, then replied. “Let’s try to get the information in spite of him! We’ll leave the car on the road and hike across the fields until we meet one of his workmen. Maybe he’ll talk, and we can learn more about Rocco.”
“His first name is Salvatore, by the way,” Junie said.
It was several minutes before they saw a man hand hoeing in one of the vegetable fields. The girls went up to him and smiled.
“Good morning,” Nancy said.
The man remained silent, though he smiled at her. She wondered if he were deaf, so this time she shouted her “good morning.” Still there was no response and the farmer went on working.
Junie walked close to the man and shouted at him, “Do you live here and work for Mr. Rocco?”
The man shrugged. “No speak English,” he finally said.
Nancy and Junie looked at each other and walked on. Across the field they saw another worker and headed in his direction. They put the same question to him and received the same answer, “No speak English!”
Junie sighed. “No one around here seems to speak our language. We’re getting nowhere fast.”
As the girls walked on Nancy suddenly spotted something and pointed. “I see a boy over there. Maybe we’ll have better luck with him.”
They walked toward the lad, who appeared to be about ten years old. He was handsome with large brown eyes and black curly hair.
The boy was seated on the ground in the shade of a large branch, and was holding a sketching pad and colored pencils. He was drawing a picture of the landscape spread before him. Against a tree nearby stood a hoe.
“That’s very good, sonny,” Junie told him, looking closely at the sketch. “What is your name?”
The little boy smiled but said nothing.
“Do you speak English?” Nancy asked.
The boy shook his head. “No English. Italian.”
Suddenly the young artist jumped up. He hid his sketching pad and pencils under a sweater and grabbed the hoe. He moved off a little distance and began to work furiously. Nancy and Junie looked at him in surprise. Since they made no attempt to move, he pointed in the distance. They followed the direction of his finger. Mr. Rocco was coming toward them at a fast pace!
“We’d better scoot,” Junie warned. “I doubt that Mr. Rocco would like our being here.”
Nancy nodded and the girls hurried off in the opposite direction. On the way home, Nancy said, “I believe if young Tony could speak English he might give us some clues.”
“How do you know the boy’s name is Tony?” Junie asked.
Nancy grinned. “I saw it on his sweater!”
“Good observation!” Junie praised. “I didn’t even notice his sweater.”
As soon as the girls reached the farmhouse, Nancy called her father’s office. He was there and asked how she was progressing with the mystery.
“Not very well,” she replied. “I need your help.”
“Sure thing. What can I do for you?”
“Will you please find out from the Immigration Department all you can about Salvatore Rocco, who came to the United States from Italy about ten years ago?” She told her father all she had learned so far.
“I see you’ve been busy,” he said. “I’ll check with Immigration and let you know the answer.”
After the call, the girls went to look at the mysterious parchment again. They puzzled over it for some time before Junie asked Nancy if she had come up with any new theories.
Nancy’s eyes sparkled. “I have a wild guess!” she said.
CHAPTER VII
A Mean Ram
“I THINK we can assume,” Nancy said to Junie, “that Mr. Salvatore Rocco knows more about the parchment than he is telling. The initial A on it could stand for Anthony, and a common nickname for Anthony is Tony.”
Junie knit her brows. “Are you trying to say that Tony, the little boy we met on Mr. Rocco’s farm, might be the baby in this parchment picture?”
Nancy nodded. “I told you it was a wild guess.”
“It sure is,” Junie agreed, “but I respect your hunches.”
Mr. Flockhart walked into the room and was told Nancy’s latest theory. He chuckled, but said he was impressed with the idea. “Nancy, please continue with your suppositions. It sounds like an intriguing story, and the first hypothesis that has been made so far in the mystery of the parchment.”
Junie remarked that the man pictured on the parchment, who had his back to the viewer, could be the boy’s father. “But why wouldn’t he be facing the viewer? Was the artist ashamed of him?”
“That’s a possible answer,” her father agreed. “On the other hand, maybe the artist just didn’t like the person and turned him around so nobody could recognize him.” He said to Nancy, “Have you any more guesses?”
“Not yet,” she replied, “but I may have after I learn more about little Tony and Mr. Salvatore Rocco.”
Mr. Flockhart reminded the girls that it was generally believed in the community that Mr. Rocco was the child’s uncle and that the boy’s parents had died.
“That gives me an idea,” Nancy said. “The last picture on the parchment portrays the collision of a sailing ship and a steamer. Maybe,” she added, “Tony’s parents were killed in the accident.”
“Very reasonable assumption,” Mr. Flockhart said. “I wonder if Mr. Rocco legally adopted his nephew.”
“I guess,” said Junie, “that we’d have to go to Italy to find out.” She teased, “Nancy Drew, detective, Milano is getting closer and closer.”
Nancy grinned. “Maybe, but I have a hunch I’ll solve the mystery right here at Triple Creek Farm.”
Junie and her father looked at their guest, then Junie said, “Nancy Drew, you’re holding back one of your hunches, or theories, or wild guesses. Come on, what is it?”
Nancy nodded. “You’re right. In the first place, I’m not convinced that Mr. Rocco’s story to Mr. Flockhart and to us about buying the painting at an auction is true. I’ve been thinking of poor Tony. He has so much talent as an artist, and so does the person who made these paintings, whose initials are DB. That person could be a close relative of Tony’s. By the way, what’s his last name?”
“I don’t know,” Junie’s father replied. “I have always supposed it