The Secret of the Golden Pavillion

Table of Contents

 

 

 

Copyright © 1987, 1959 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

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

eISBN : 978-1-101-07737-5

2008 Printing

NANCY DREW, her lovely blue eyes sparkling with excitement, stared in fascination from the cabin of a private helicopter. The craft was headed for the River Heights airport, a few miles beyond. Below, the rooftops of the town stood out clearly in the moonlight.

“We’re almost home, Togo,” Nancy said to the terrier beside her. Fastened to his collar was a blue ribbon that he had won at a dog show in a city some distance away.

Leaning forward, Nancy asked the pilot, “Could we please go lower? I’d love to see my house from the air.”

The young man shook his head. “It’s against regulations. Maybe these will help you.” He handed her a pair of binoculars.

Nancy adjusted them and in a moment her home came into focus. “I see it!” she exclaimed. But a second later she suddenly gasped in alarm, “A man’s climbing into a dormer window on our third floor!”

“You mean a burglar?” the pilot asked.

“Yes. All our windows on the first and second floors are wired for a burglar alarm. The thief must know that. Oh, dear, he may harm Hannah! ”

Quickly Nancy explained that Hannah Gruen was the Drews’ housekeeper and that Mrs. Gruen had been like a mother to her since she was a little girl and had lost her own mother.

“Radio the airport tower, please!” Nancy urged. “Tell them what’s happening and ask them to page my father. He’s waiting for me. He can contact the police to catch that burglar!”

Instantly the pilot made the call. Then, at Nancy’s request, he began to circle above the Drew home. Less than five minutes later, they saw the burglar step out backward from the dormer window onto a long, slender ladder. In his hand was a brief case.

“It must be one of Dad’s,” Nancy told the pilot.

The intruder made a nimble descent. Then he collapsed the ladder into a small bundle, picked it up, and disappeared among the trees that lined the Drew driveway.

“Please relay all this to the tower,” Nancy begged.

The pilot followed her request, then said, “I’d better get to the field pronto.”

His landing was cleared and soon the helicopter was standing on the concrete runway. Nancy tucked Togo under one arm and her purse under the other, while the pilot grabbed her week-end bag. Then the two hurried to the gate.

At the exit stood a taxi driver whom Nancy knew well. “Good evening, Joe,” she said.

“ ’Evening,” he replied. “Your father asked me to drive you home. I hear you’ve been having some excitement at your house. Mr. Drew said something about his fetching the police and nabbing a burglar.”

“Then Dad did get the message!” Nancy exclaimed. “Let’s hope they caught the thief before he got off the grounds.”

She thanked the pilot for his assistance, then ran to Joe’s taxi and hopped in. He drove as quickly as possible to Nancy’s home.

As the taxi came to a halt at the front door of the large, brick house, Mr. Drew stepped from the doorway and took Nancy in his arms. “So good to see you again,” said the tall, distinguished-looking lawyer.

“It’s good to be here,” his daughter replied. “The burglar—Did you catch him?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Togo, who had scampered into the house, was running around in circles and yipping with joy at being home. In a moment Hannah Gruen appeared from the rear of the house.

“Are you all right, Hannah?” Nancy asked, as she hugged the housekeeper affectionately.

“Oh, yes. But to tell the truth, I’m mighty embarrassed. I didn’t even hear that burglar,” she went on. “I dropped off to sleep waiting for you and your father, and never woke up once. By the way, what did the man take?” she asked Mr. Drew.

The lawyer said that so far as he could find out, the burglar had been after only one thing—a brief case containing papers relating to a new case which he had just taken.

“The intruder may have wanted these for some special reason, but also he may have been after an odd-looking object that was in the brief case. My client was sending it to you, Nancy. It was a copy of a rare old Polynesian artifact—a wooden figure, half human and half bird. It had little monetary value, so I’m puzzled about that aspect of the burglary.”

“Perhaps,” said Nancy, “the thief believed the piece to be old and rare.”

“Possibly,” her father agreed.

Nancy inquired how the burglar might have learned about the contents of the brief case. Mr. Drew stared into space a moment, then answered, “I had luncheon today with my new client, Mr. Sakamaki. He’s a Hawaiian. He talked rather freely about his case. It was a public restaurant and perhaps the burglar was seated nearby listening to the conversation.”

“Does the case involve something Polynesian?” Nancy asked.

“Well, yes and no,” the lawyer replied. “I’d prefer that Mr. Sakamaki tell you the whole story himself. You may pick up a few points which I missed,” he complimented his daughter. “When I happened to mention to him that you loved to solve mysteries, he was interested at once.”

Mr. Drew looked directly at Nancy, a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “There is a very unusual mystery in connection with the case. Mr. Sakamaki would like you to solve it for him.”

Nancy’s face broke into a broad grin. “And I’d like to do it!” she said eagerly. “How soon may I talk to Mr. Sakamaki?”

“Tomorrow morning at my office.”

While Hannah prepared a midnight snack of angel cake and fruit juice, Mr. Drew went to the telephone and called police headquarters. The sergeant on duty reported that his squad had not apprehended the burglar as yet. The clue of the collapsible ladder was an excellent one, he said, and his men had stopped and searched a hundred cars in the general area of the Drew home. But no ladder had been found in any of the automobiles.

“We’ll keep on looking,” the sergeant promised. “Something may turn up yet.”

The next morning after breakfast Nancy and her father set out for his office. It was not long after they arrived that Mr. Drew’s secretary announced a caller.

“Mr. Kamuela Sakamaki is here.”

“Please show him in,” Mr. Drew replied.

A smiling man about forty years old walked in. He was of medium height, with lightly bronzed skin and friendly dark eyes. Mr. Drew presented him to Nancy.

“I’m very happy to meet you,” Mr. Sakamaki said. “And I hope that you, as well as your father, will consent to taking my case.”

As everyone sat down, the caller explained that he was part Polynesian, part Japanese. “My Polynesian first name means ‘Sam’ and when necessary I use the English version for business. I am very proud of my Polynesian forebears.”

Mr. Sakamaki explained that he had perfected certain methods for finishing handmade furniture —an art practiced by his Polynesian ancestors. Like them, he used sharkskin instead of sandpaper.

“At present I am lecturing and demonstrating in a furniture factory here. Mrs. Sakamaki and I have rented a house in River Heights for a year.”

He went on to say that he had recently inherited a large estate of both money and property from his grandfather, Nikkio Sakamaki, in Honolulu. The estate was called Kaluakua. Abruptly he asked:

“Miss Drew, would you like to go out there to solve my mystery?” From his pocket he brought out a paper on which two symbols had been drawn. “I believe these are a clue that will help.”