The Mystery of the Missing Heiress (16 page)

BOOK: The Mystery of the Missing Heiress
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“She was. Heavens, this group hasn’t had a bite to eat since goodness knows when. I’ll just whip up some batter, and we’ll have waffles and bacon in a few minutes. Won’t you stay, Doctor? I’ll start the coffee perking.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be pushing on. I’ve patients waiting in my office. Brian, you can rewind that bandage on her wrist tomorrow. Let her sleep as long as she will, Mrs. Belden. If she awakens and seems restless, give her another of those small white pills.”

Brian, the future doctor, straightened in his chair. “Dr. Gregory was pretty much rocked over what happened to Janie,” he said. “Who could possibly have it in for a girl like her?”

Who?
Trixie echoed the question in her mind.
Who? We haven’t a whisper of a clue. Tomorrow, though, we’ll talk to Sergeant Molinson.

“Did anyone hear anything from Juliana today?” Jim asked, interrupting Trixies thoughts. “This business of Janie put her clear out of my head.” Mrs. Belden clapped her hand over her mouth. “Jim, I forgot! Juliana stopped in here about an hour ago. She said she had been away from Mrs. Vanderpoels house all day. I promised her that someone would call her and tell her about Janie. Jim, will you please call? Use the phone on the sun porch. It’s quieter there. Have you beaten the eggs, Trixie?”

“Yes, Moms. Di wants to make the salad. Where is the lettuce hiding?”

“In the hydrator, where it always is. Brian, will you mix some of that salad dressing you like? Jim— Oh, he’s telephoning....”

“No, I’m not. Juliana wasn’t home. Boy, does she get around!”

“Maybe she got an answer to her letter,” Honey suggested.

“If she did, she didn’t tell Mrs. Vanderpoel. She hadn’t even told her that Janie was lost. I guess that gives us a pretty good idea how much she cares about any of us.”

Mrs. Belden put some plates to warm in the top of the oven and turned around slowly. “It probably means that Juliana has worries of her own.” She began pouring the batter. “Let’s concentrate on supper now.”

Soon hungry Bob-Whites descended on the stacked waffles, while Mrs. Belden kept the iron steaming and mixed another bowl of batter.

“Did Janie eat anything?” Honey asked.

“A bowl of soup, but her eyes were almost closing,” Mrs. Belden answered. “Bobby will be cross when he knows we’ve had waffles. He loves them.”

“My mom gave him his dinner at our house with the twins before I brought him home,” Diana said. She laughed and went on, “I hate to tell you, but I ate dinner then, too; I never could resist waffles.”

“It’s a Belden specialty,” Mr. Belden said and passed the jug of maple syrup to Diana at his side. “Bobby must have had quite a day. He was so tired he couldn’t hold his head up. I let him climb into bed with his clothes on—even his shoes.”

“You didn’t!” Mrs. Belden said, more amused than shocked. “Brian, will you please answer the doorbell? Who could be stopping by now? One of the neighbors, I guess, to ask about Janie.”

When Brian returned, Juliana was ahead of him. Her eyes traveled quickly around the group at the table. “Where’s Janie? Nobody told me about her. Did you find her?”

“I tried to telephone you,” Jim said, “but you weren’t home.”

“Janie’s resting,” Mrs. Belden explained. “She had quite a fall. It’s been quite a day for all of us. Will you have waffles, Juliana? There are hot ones just coming up.”

Juliana shook her head.

“Or coffee?Or a piece of cake? I baked it while I was waiting for everyone to come back. I’d have lost my mind if I hadn’t been able to do something.”
Moms is talking too much,
Trixie thought.
That means she’s nervous. Juliana seems to do this to people.

“I'm sorry I wasn’t here to go with the rest of you,” Juliana said, addressing her remark to Jim. “I've had things to attend to.”

“Did you have an answer from Holland?”

“No, Jim, and I just
have
to have an answer pretty soon... very, very soon.” Juliana’s voice thinned. “Those thoughtless people in The Hague. No word at all!”

“Maybe you should have written to Mrs. Schimmel to take care of it for you,” Trixie suggested. “She’s right there in The Hague, as you know.”

“Mrs. Schimmel? Who— Oh, yes, Mrs. Schimmel. I always called her by a pet name. She’s far too busy.” Juliana got up hurriedly. “If Janie seems to be all right, I’ll go on. You don’t need to go with me, Jim. I’ll go by myself.”

Mrs. Belden and the Bob-Whites followed her to the front door.

“It’s getting late, Juliana,” Mrs. Belden said, “quite late, and its dark. After Janie’s experience.... Don’t you think Jim had better go with you?”

“No. I like the walk,” Juliana said hastily. “This isn’t New York’s Central Park, you know. It’s the little hick village of Sleepyside. I’ll see you later.” Mart whistled. “She almost
blew
out the front door. She’s in a thing about something.”

“Whether she wants it or not, I’m going to walk along behind her,” Jim announced. He closed the screen door quietly. “We’ve had enough episodes for one day.”

Back in the kitchen, the Bob-Whites grew quieter, realizing, finally, how tired they really were. But, even so, the girls had the dishes done in no time at all. Mr. and Mrs. Belden settled in the living room to read.

“Stay with me tonight, Honey, please,” Trixie begged. “I’m still tingling. I can’t sleep, I know. We can talk—”

The door slammed. Jim came stalking in without knocking.

How do you like that?” he interrupted, sputtering. “I’m the world’s prize nitwit. I should have known she wasn’t walking home. It was that car again—the green Buick—parked down the road. I saw her get into it. Why couldn’t she have said so?”

“Maybe she’s going to give the Dutch lawyer the heave-ho,” Mart suggested. “Maybe she’s found a new love.”

“She doesn’t need to be so secretive about it. Who cares?” Trixie snorted. “Oh, Jim, I forgot. After all, she
is
your cousin.”

“That doesn’t keep me from wondering, too. Maybe she doesn’t want Mrs. Vanderpoel to know. I don’t know why she pussyfoots around the way she does. But, as your mom told me, it’s really none of my business. I’m ready to call it a day. Come along, Honey. We’ll take Di home. It’s a shame Dan couldn’t have stayed for some of those waffles, Mrs. Belden. Thanks a million.”

“I think Honey will stay with me, Jim, maybe even for the weekend. She almost promised,” Trixie told him.

“I’d love to, if you think Mom won’t mind, Jim. Do you?”

“Have you ever known her to mind when you stay at Crabapple Farm? Come along, Di, you’re stuck with me. I’ll drive you home. I’ll stop early in the morning, and we’ll all go and talk with the police about those signs.”

Brian and Mart went to their rooms.

Mrs. Belden went to Janie’s room to check on her, then she and Mr. Belden said good night to Trixie and Honey.

Trixie let Reddy out and watched him go galloping around the yard. Then she and Honey went upstairs.

Report to Sergeant Molinson ● 14

AS THE STATION WAGON left Crabapple Farm the next morning to take the Bob-Whites to confer with Sergeant Molinson, Trixie said unexpectedly, “Let's stop at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house. Maybe Juliana would like to go with us.”

Mart turned around and looked at her as though she had two heads.

Jim, surprised, said quickly, “Okay.”

Dan Mangan, the most matter-of-fact member of the club, asked, “Why? She wasn’t anyplace in the woods yesterday. She’s never with us.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Trixie said. “I’ve been thinking that we could have tried harder to be with her more. It’s Janie’s accident that threw us off—when she lost her memory and we brought her to live with us. I guess we just paid more attention to her because she seemed to need us more.”

Juliana wasn’t at home, as usual, when they stopped.

“She went out early this morning, about nine o’clock,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said. “Come in, all of you. I haven’t seen any of you but Jim for a long time. You must be pretty busy getting ready for the horse show at the Turf Club. That Regan is a slave driver, isn’t he?”

Honey laughed. “Usually he is. He’s been swell about our practicing lately. He and Dan give the horses a workout. We help when we can. It isn’t often enough. Did you hear what happened yesterday, Mrs. Vanderpoel?”

“Yes, I did. Jim told me some of it. Then, when Juliana came home, she told me more. She seemed to be pretty badly disturbed about it.”

Trixie raised her eyebrows. “She didn’t show any sign of it when she stopped at our house. She hardly listened to anything we said about Janie’s fall.”

“Juliana doesn’t show emotion. Dutch people don’t.” Then Mrs. Vanderpoel added, “Not on the surface, but we feel things deep down. I feel so sorry for that poor little nameless girl, Janie. I feel the same about you Bob-Whites, too. Your plans have had to take second place—your work at the hospital, helping at home, the Turf Show. Juliana is working on some dolls for a booth at the Show.”

“Juliana?” Mart shouted. “Juliana working on a booth? She won’t even be here. At least, I know she hopes she won t be here that long.”

“I know that. She’s pretty sure she won’t be here, but she’s making a lot of dolls—Dutch dolls—for the doll booth. Didn’t any of you girls know it?”

Trixie, sobered and ashamed, shook her head. “We didn’t,” Honey said.

“No, and I’d never have dreamed it,” Diana said. “That’s what she does daytimes, mostly,” Mrs. Vanderpoel told them. “She didn’t tell me anything about what she was doing until yesterday. I thought you knew. I hope she won’t mind my mentioning it now. She must have wanted to surprise you.”

“Heavens!” Trixie said. “Think of it!”

“Every day she goes to work with some woman named Thompson. I don’t know her. I think Juliana may have known her sister in the Bronx. This woman telephones to Juliana often. Her husband has been away, and she has time on her hands. She used to be a seamstress. I’ll show you one of the dolls.”

Mrs. Vanderpoel left the room.

“Boy, if that wasn’t a blockbuster!” Mart said. He saw Jim’s face and added quickly, “Well, did
you
think she’d make dolls for a booth? Did any of the rest of you think so?”

“See, isn’t she pretty?” Mrs. Vanderpoel held up a little, flaxen-haired doll, it's two yellow braids sticking out from an apple-cheeked rag face.

“She’s darling!” Trixie and Honey said in unison. “I guess we all need to take a second look at Juliana,” Brian said slowly. “We’ve sure jumped to some wrong conclusions, Mrs. Vanderpoel.”

“Maybe so.Maybe not. She puzzles me. I don’t think she’s happy. Maybe it’s that business about the land that’s worrying her, but she’s up in the air one day and down the next. I think it’s probably good for her to work with the dolls.”

“Nights, too?” Jim asked, remembering. “Do they work on those dolls nights, too?”

“I guess they do. One of Mrs. Thompson’s sons —I think—picks her up. He’s been by several nights. I never see him. He just honks his automobile horn for her.”

“Tell her we’re so sorry we didn’t get to see her on our way to talk to the police about those warning signs that were moved. We think someone did it on purpose, and that’s why Janie fell.”

“It doesn’t seem possible anyone could be so cruel. You’re right to try and track down who did it. This is more detective work for you, isn’t it, Trixie?”

“If I can help,” Trixie answered. “Oh, look at the time. It’s almost noon. We’ll see you later, Mrs. Vanderpoel. Be sure and tell Juliana We stopped by, and tell her we think it’s simply super about the dolls. The only other booth we know anything about is the one Moms will have—the plant booth, with seedlings from her garden.”

“Now, what do you think of that?” Trixie asked when they were once more on their way.

“I think we all need our heads examined,” Mart said. “Moms kept telling us, one by one, that we should be more tolerant....”

“Yeah. A fine bunch of Bob-Whites we turned out to be!” Brian said.

“It gives us something to shoot for in the future,” Jim said.

Trixie, deep in thought, said to Honey, “It’s the strangest thing—I wish I could remember where I’ve heard the name Thompson. Maybe Moms will know. Wasn’t that the cutest doll?”

When Jim parked the car in front of the courthouse, Trixie said, “I suppose Sergeant Molinson will be as impatient as he always is.”

“Yeah,” Mart answered. “He thinks you mess up his investigations and get in the way of his men when they’re working on a case.”

“She
does
get in the way,” Honey said spiritedly. “And a good thing, too. All he has to do is to think back to some of the cases Trixie and I have helped to solve— Shhh... here we are!”

“Good morning, Trixie. Good morning, Honey. Good morning, boys. I’m glad you stopped in. I have some questions to ask you about what happened up there on the cliff yesterday.”

“Did Dad see you this morning?” Jim asked. “Yes. He’s putting some men to work today to fence off that ledge where the girl fell. The erosion there has to be stopped, too. I have a call in for the county engineer right now. Trixie, although I still disapprove of your dangerous methods, you were a real heroine yesterday. If I have the story the way it happened.”

BOOK: The Mystery of the Missing Heiress
8.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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