The Haunted Showboat (5 page)
Read The Haunted Showboat Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
Tags: #Mardi Gras, #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Showboats, #Carnival, #Mystery & Detective, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Detectives, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Haunted Places - Louisiana - New Orleans, #River Boats, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #New Orleans (La.), #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #Haunted Places, #Mystery and Detective Stories
Bess looked at the other girls and shook her head. “I’ve never seen a bigger change in anyone. Have you, George? Donna Mae just isn’t like her old self.”
“You’re right, Bess,” replied her cousin, “and I wouldn’t say for the better. Maybe it’s Alex’s influence.”
After dinner that evening Colonel Haver took Nancy aside. “I’d like you to get started solving the mystery as soon as possible,” he said. “Time is running out.”
He explained that stories of strange happenings on the showboat had caused workmen to refuse to go near it.
“Not a single towboat captain will come here to push the
River Princess
out of the bayou. We must do something fast!” He smiled and added, “Are you ready to take over, Detective Drew?”
River Princess
out of the bayou. We must do something fast!” He smiled and added, “Are you ready to take over, Detective Drew?”
CHAPTER VI
Pirates’ Alley
GIVING the Colonel a big smile, Nancy said excitedly, “I’d like to start solving the mystery at once.”
“Fine,” he replied. “And there’s one thing I want to say. You’ll have free rein. Don’t feel obligated to report to me or to anyone else. Come and go as you like.”
Nancy was glad to hear this. The following morning she went into the garden to gaze at the bayou which lay beyond the extensive flower beds. Large water oaks, dripping with long festoons of Spanish moss, rose above the mist which covered the swamp. Eerie clumps of cypress and gum trees could be seen against the sky.
Nancy could not restrain a little shiver. “That’s the swamp we must go through to reach the showboat,” the young detective murmured to herself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Donna Mae. With a charming smile, she said, “Good mornin’, honey. Hope you slept well!” Then, following Nancy’s glance, she added, “That old place is positively spooky, isn’t it? Don’t think about it! We’re going to New Orleans and have some fun.”
“But, Donna Mae, I have some work to do for your father,” Nancy protested.
Donna Mae made a face. “Work! Who wants to work at Mardi Gras time?” she asked gaily. “You know, you’re going to be in the play we’re having just before the ball and you must get a costume at once. Alex is going to drive all of us girls to town. We’ll show you some interesting sights in the old city.”
The planned excursion sounded most attractive and Nancy brushed aside her serious mood. “You’re right, Donna Mae,” she said. “New Orleans is such a famous place. Of course I want to see it. I can start my sleuthing later. A few hours won’t matter, I guess.”
“Wonderful! We’ll start at ten o’clock,” Donna Mae said. “I’ll tell Bess and George.”
At ten Alex drove to the front door in a station wagon. When the girls from River Heights came out they wore pastel summer cottons.
“How pretty you all look!” Alex remarked as he alighted to help the girls in. Then to Nancy, who stood to one side, he whispered, “Please sit next to me. I want to talk to you about the mystery.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that,” Nancy replied coolly, ignoring the invitation. “Donna Mae just wants us to have fun today.” She deliberately climbed into the rear seat, where Bess and George would sit.
As they neared the city, Donna Mae, next to Alex, directed him to a fine old street in the residential area. She asked him to stop in front of a two-story, balconied yellow house. The property was surrounded by a wrought-iron fence with an oleander pattern. In the garden beyond were several magnolia trees and oleander bushes. Bess gave a sigh of admiration.
“The oleander blossom,” Donna Mae explained, “is the city flower of New Orleans. The juice of the bush itself is poisonous, you know.”
“Why are we stopping here?” Alex asked her.
“Madame Dupre, who lives here, rents costumes for the Mardi Gras,” Donna Mae replied. “Her selection is exceptional and the costumes unique.”
Alex decided to remain in the car while the girls went inside. It took only a few minutes to choose their costumes. At Donna Mae’s insistence her friends would represent fairies in the play. They would wear white, fluffy tulle ballet dresses with wings attached. George grumbled that she was going to feel very silly in hers.
“I hardly think I rate wings, anyway!” she said wryly. “And the costume reminds me of dancing school when I was four years old!”
Donna Mae had her way, however. The costumes were packed and the girls walked outside with the boxes. To their amazement Alex and the station wagon were not in sight.
“Now where did he go?” asked Donna Mae, annoyed.
Minutes later Alex returned and explained that he had been doing some sight-seeing while waiting for them.
“We’ll tour the old city first,” said Donna Mae, “and then lunch at Antoine’s.”
The Vieux Carré, or old city, was nestled on the east bank of the Mississippi. The modern city of New Orleans spread beyond it for some distance. Alex parked and the tour began on foot.
The visitors were intrigued by the narrow streets and sidewalks, the ancient shops and restaurants, and the homes with their heavy wooden doors and iron hinges and locks.
The two- and three-story buildings looked delightfully quaint with their lovely wrought-iron railings. Boxes of bright-colored flowers dotted the porches. Here and there were open gates leading to charming old-fashioned courtyards.
“Visitors are welcome to walk in and look around,” Donna Mae announced as she led the way into one of the gardens.
“Oh, how artistic!” Bess exclaimed
The flagstone courtyard was decorated with tubs of flowering bushes in full bloom. In the center a fountain played and at the far side a curved stone stairway led upward to a flower-decked balcony. The warm tropical sunshine lent an air of tranquility to the scene.
“It’s heavenly, simply heavenly!” Bess sighed.
As the sight-seers left the quaint spot, Donna Mae said, “Nancy, you and the girls will surely want to see the haunted house. It’s famous in this area.”
“What makes it haunted?” Bess asked quickly.
“Well,” began Donna Mae, “a long, long time ago there was a fire in the old house. The owner and his wife were not there when it happened, so firemen and neighbors broke in and saved what furniture they could. To their horror they found slaves chained in the attic.
“When the owner and his wife heard that their dreadful cruelty had been discovered, they ran away. But it’s said that the ghosts of those slaves haunt the place.”
“I don’t think I want to see that house,” Bess said with a shudder.
Alex suggested that probably they would be more interested in the pirates, anyway. To Donna Mae, he said, “How about showing the girls the place where Pierre Lafitte was a prisoner?”
Donna Mae led the way to Jackson Square, the heart of the Vieux Carré. In the center of this grassy esplanade stood a statue of Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States. The general sat astride a rearing horse.
When George remarked that it was amazing how the forelegs of the horse remained in space with no support, Donna Mae said that this had been accomplished by making the statue perfectly balanced. “An unusual and difficult feat in this case.”
Donna Mae went on, “The government of New Orleans has been in the hands of different ruling groups five times. Sometimes it was the Spanish, sometimes the French, sometimes the United States, and once the city was independent.”
Around Jackson Square were numerous public buildings and apartment houses. Alex, who had been on the tour before, led the way to the
Cabildo.
This large, many-arched building had originally been the municipal hall for old New Orleans. Now it was a museum.
Cabildo.
This large, many-arched building had originally been the municipal hall for old New Orleans. Now it was a museum.
Off the center courtyard around which the
Cabildo
had been built was the small cell in which Pierre Lafitte, the pirate, had been jailed. At the moment there was little in it—the most interesting objects being two ancient safes with decorated crosspieces of a hobnailed design.
Cabildo
had been built was the small cell in which Pierre Lafitte, the pirate, had been jailed. At the moment there was little in it—the most interesting objects being two ancient safes with decorated crosspieces of a hobnailed design.
“Are these what the pirates kept their gold in?” George asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“So
the legend goes,” Donna Mae answered. “Pierre and his brother Jean had a blacksmith shop a few blocks from here. They didn’t do much blacksmithing, though. They were too busy smuggling in slaves from Africa and selling them.
the legend goes,” Donna Mae answered. “Pierre and his brother Jean had a blacksmith shop a few blocks from here. They didn’t do much blacksmithing, though. They were too busy smuggling in slaves from Africa and selling them.
“Jean and Pierre Lafitte were in trouble with the law most of the time,” Donna Mae continued, “but somehow, they were always able to get out of it. But, strange though it seems, they turned out to be very patriotic citizens during the War of 1812 in the Battle of New Orleans.”
“Well, I’m glad they made up for their miserable deeds,” said Bess.
“Let’s walk up Pirates’ Alley,” Alex suggested. “That’s the street where the pirates carried on their nefarious schemes.”
As the group walked across Jackson Square to Pirates’ Alley, the girls became interested in the many sidewalk artists. The men and women lined one side of the square. Many wore smocks and jaunty berets. Some sat on stools, sketching portraits of tourists, and all had pictures on display to sell.
One aggressive man smiled at Nancy, “May I paint your portrait, miss?” he asked. “Your face would be lovely on canvas!”
Nancy laughed. “Not today, thank you,” she answered.
Alex led the way into the narrow street nicknamed Pirates’ Alley. It was so attractive, with its quaint architecture and flowering plants, that it was hard for the girls to think of sinister plans once being made there by scheming pirates.
Just as the sight-seers emerged from the alley, Nancy grabbed George’s arm. “I just turned around and saw a man who looks exactly like the one who stole my car! He must be following us!”
George suggested getting a policeman, but Nancy said, “No. I’d like to follow him if possible. We may learn something. Suppose you and Bess and I duck into the first antique store we come to and let him pass us.”
George whispered directions to Bess, as Nancy glanced over her shoulder to be sure the man was still following. He was!
Coming to a gift shop, she announced quickly to Donna Mae and Alex, “Bess and George and I are going to do a little shopping. Suppose we meet you later at Antoine’s.”
Without further explanation, the three girls ducked into the shop. Donna Mae, looking impatient, followed them, but Alex remained outside. When the proprietor came forward, Bess and George engaged him in conversation about a flowered plate. Nancy pretended to examine a miniature vase on a table near the window while watching to see if the suspect passed.
To her complete astonishment, the man stopped and spoke to Alex. It was nearly a full minute before he moved on. Nancy signaled to Bess, who said to the proprietor:
“Thank you very much. I’ll think it over.”
Quickly Nancy left the shop, followed by the other girls. The suspect was not far ahead of them. Nancy started off at a brisk pace to speak to him and perhaps find a policeman.
“What’s the hurry?” Alex asked, catching up to and taking her arm.
“I want to talk to someone,” Nancy replied hastily. “By the way, what did the man who stopped to speak to you want?”
“That fellow! Why, he—uh—wanted to paint your picture.”
“What did you say to him?” Nancy asked.
Alex laughed. “I told him there wasn’t a ghost of a chance of painting you.”
Nancy gazed straight at Alex to determine if he was telling the truth or teasing her. But there was only an amused look in his eyes which gave her no clue.
“I’d like to speak to the man myself, anyhow,” Nancy declared and hurried on.
Alex and the other girls quickly followed, but by this time the suspect was out of sight. Nancy was annoyed at herself for letting him get away. “I’m sure he just pretended to be an artist!” she said to herself.
Alex led the way to Antoine’s restaurant. Here the group walked through several crowded rooms before being shown a table. Nancy and the cousins observed with interest the walls that were covered with autographed photographs of famous persons.
“I’m sure that he is the man who stole my car!”
“Now, Alex,” Donna Mae said gaily, “let’s have some of those scrumptious dishes you and I adore.”
As her fiancé nodded and beckoned to a waiter, Nancy said, “Please order something special for me.” She rose from the table. “And please excuse me a few minutes. I have to make a phone call.”
Closing herself into a nearby booth, she got in touch with police headquarters, told her story about the stolen convertible, and the fact that she thought she had seen the suspect in town.
“We’ll look into the matter at once, Miss Drew,” the officer in charge promised.
“Thank you. I’m staying with Colonel Haver at Sunnymead,” said Nancy and gave him the number.
The young detective hung up and started to open the door. Outside stood Alex Upgrove, staring at her intently!
CHAPTER VII
A Swamp Accident
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