The Moonstone Castle Mystery

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WHEN Nancy Drew receives a valuable moonstone as a gift from an unknown person, she is amazed and puzzled. But it is only the first of several startling events in this complex mystery that challenge the ingenuity of the pretty sleuth.

Why are the Bowens—a missionary couple who recently returned to the United States—having so much trouble finding their missing seventeen-year-old granddaughter? Trying to uncover a clue to the orphan girl’s whereabouts, Nancy and her friends travel to Deep River, the town where young Joanie Horton lived with her guardian grandmother until Mrs. Horton’s death fourteen years ago.

From the motel where Nancy, Bess, and George stay, they see in the distance an intriguing castlelike structure with a drawbridge. Gossipy Mrs. Hemstead at the village tearoom insists that Moonstone Castle is haunted. Curious, the three girls attempt to explore the abandoned castle, but an ominous voice warns them away.

Other strange happenings in Deep River convince Nancy that there is a connection between Moonstone Castle and the mysterious moonstone gift. But what is the significance? And where does the baffling disappearance of Joanie Horton fit into the intricate puzzle?

How the young detective exposes a cruel hoax that has far-reaching results makes a dramatic and exciting story.

Copyright © 1991, 1963 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam &
Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A
NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuste
Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

eISBN : 978-1-101-07741-2

2008 Printing

“HURRY! Open the package, Nancy!”

Three girls stood in the hallway of Nancy Drew’s home, gazing at a small paper-wrapped box, which had just arrived by mail. There was no sender’s name or address on it.

“Somebody is being very mysterious,” commented Bess Marvin, a pretty, blond girl.

“Yes,” agreed attractive, titian-haired Nancy, studying the uneven way the sender had pasted on the letters and numbers of the address. “These are cut from a newspaper, and I’d guess the person was very nervous when he wrapped the package.”

“Well, open it,” coaxed the third girl, George Fayne, impatiently. She was a dark brunette, very slender, and tomboyish. “The sender’s name probably is inside!”

Nancy, prompted by her detective instincts, was careful not to destroy the wrapping. The white carton inside was unmarked. It contained a plain jeweler’s ring box. By now the girls were holding their breath in anticipation. Nancy lifted the lid.

“How gorgeous!” Bess exclaimed.

Nestled in the groove of the satin-lined case was the finest moonstone Nancy had ever seen. She stared in amazement.

“Pretty neat,” said George. Then she grinned. “A mystery for you to solve. The case of the unknown admirer!”

Nancy laughed. “Anyhow, you can’t tease me that it was Ned. The package was mailed right here in River Heights and he’s at a camp miles from here.” Ned Nickerson was a college student who often dated her.

Suddenly Nancy noticed a piece of paper wedged into the bottom of the white carton. She unfolded it quickly and together the three girls read aloud the message pasted on it from newspaper words:

“Nancy, what are you up to?” Bess demanded. “It sounds dangerous.”

“Until now, I didn’t think so,” Nancy answered thoughtfully. “Dad is working on a case and has asked me to help him. Girls, let’s dash down to the post office and see if we can find out who mailed the moonstone.”

She led the way outside and hurried to the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat of her convertible, Nancy backed the car out and the three friends headed for the post office. They had gone only a block when Nancy parked the convertible.

“Trouble?” George asked.

“No, but I thought it might be more sensible to go on foot. The contents of the well-wisher’s note made me think somebody may be shadowing or spying on me. Why don’t I go ahead and you girls follow and watch?”

“Okay,” George agreed, and Bess, who was George’s cousin, said, “Be carefull We’ll meet you here later.”

Nancy strode down the sycamore-shaded street at a fast pace. When she reached the business area, she turned onto the avenue where the post office was located.

Bess and George were about a hundred yards behind. Suddenly Bess grabbed her cousin’s arm. “That man who just crossed the street! He’s following Nancy!”

“Looks that way.” George watched him intently.

The man followed Nancy into the post office. When she approached the parcel-post window, the stranger stood behind her while she spoke to the post-office clerk.

“He is spying,” Bess declared, as she and George watched from the sidewalk.

The man, thin, dark, and wearing a scowling expression, turned and left the building. He went across the street and stood in the doorway of a store.

“I think we should warn Nancy,” said Bess.

George did not agree. “Why don’t we follow him?” she suggested. “Then we might find out who he is and what he’s up to.”

“All right.”

Meanwhile, Nancy had learned nothing helpful about the sender of the mysterious, uninsured package. No one in the post office recalled the person who had handed it in, or had noticed the pasted-on letters for her name and address. She refrained from mentioning the contents.

Disappointed, Nancy turned away and started for home. The strange man came from his hiding place and followed. Bess and George brought up the rear.

“I don’t think he has noticed us,” Bess remarked to her cousin. “But what shall we do when we reach the car?”

“Let’s worry about that when the time comes,” George advised. “If that man was watching the house, he certainly saw us drive out with Nancy. He must have figured we went home. Let him think so.”

When Nancy came to her convertible, she got in, deftly backed into a driveway to turn around, and headed for home. The man sprinted up the street to keep her in sight. Bess and George ran, too.

As Nancy turned into the circular driveway of her home, the stranger paused. He stood very still, his head lowered, as if he were trying to decide what to do.

Bess and George had stopped also. Suddenly the man turned in their direction. He must have recognized them, because he started to run, heading in the opposite direction.

“Come on!” George urged her cousin.

At the corner the stranger held up his right hand to signal a bus. Before the girls could reach him, he had jumped aboard and the bus was rumbling down the avenue.