The Clue Of The Tapping Heels Part 1

The Clue of the Tapping Heels.

CHAPTER I.

Tap Code.

TAP! TAP! TAP!.

"Nancy," said blond, pretty Bess Marvin, "that doesn't sound like a regular tap dance."

"It certainly doesn't," added George Fayne, a dark-haired, athletic girl, who was Bess's cousin. "I could almost imagine it's a code."

"And you'd be right," Nancy Drew replied with a broad grin.

The slender, t.i.tian-haired tap dancer stood in the center of the Drews' bas.e.m.e.nt recreation room. Her audience, besides Bess and George, was Mrs. Hannah Gruen, the kindly housekeeper. She had helped to rear Nancy since the death of Mrs. Drew when Nancy was three years old.

Mrs. Gruen said, "Nancy, why don't you tell the girls about your new mystery? After all they've been invited to help solve it."

"Another mystery?" Bess spoke up. "What's this one?"

"It involves a strange tapper," Nancy replied as she dropped into a chair. "Hannah has a friend named Mrs. Bealing. She's a practical nurse. Recently she was called on a case over in Berryville to take care of a Miss Carter who broke her leg."

"What does this have to do with tapping?" George interjected.

Hannah Gruen answered. "Mrs. Bealing is fed up with what's going on at Miss Carter's house. The woman lives alone and breeds Persian cats to sell. My friend didn't bargain on feeding and taking care of a lot of cats. Now, to add to that, she has heard mysterious tapping sounds in the walls at night."

"Ghosts?" George remarked.

"That's what we're supposed to find out," Nancy replied. "Mrs. Bealing says the sounds are like tap dancing. The poor woman hasn't had any time off and very little sleep. Miss Carter wants you and Bess and me to come out to relieve her and solve the mystery."

"It sounds spooky," said Bess, "and I don't know a thing about taking care of Persian cats."

"Cats are cats," Mrs. Gruen stated.

"Well," said Nancy, "would you girls like to go? Miss Carter wants us to visit her until we solve the mystery. You know, I'm to be in the Rivers Club play that's being given for charity. We're having rehearsals pretty often. I wouldn't be able to stay in Berryville every night, but I could commute."

Bess and George were eager to track down the tapper and said they would ask their parents' permission.

While Bess was telephoning upstairs, George said to Nancy, "You still haven't explained about the code tapping you were doing."

Nancy laughed. "Recently I decided to study Morse code. I thought it would be fun to tap out messages with my heels."

In a few moments Bess was back, smiling. "It's all right for me to go. When do we start?"

"As soon as we can pack a few clothes," Nancy answered.

After George had phoned her mother and was given a green light to work on the mystery, Nancy said she would pick the girls up at their homes in an hour. She telephoned her father at his law office to tell him of the plans.

"So you couldn't resist the challenge of another mystery?" He laughed. "Best of luck, dear, and let me know if you need any help."

Nancy and her father had always been very close and at times he asked her advice on some of his cases. On other occasions, like this one, a mystery had come to her directly.

Berryville, a small suburban community not far from River Heights where Nancy lived, was filled with cars and shoppers.

"Miss Carter's home is about half a mile from Main Street," Nancy said. "Girls, watch for Amity Place."

A minute later they saw the sign and turned down the tree-shaded street. Flowers bloomed in every yard.

"Look for number thirty-two," Nancy requested.

They had almost reached it when without warning she slammed on the brakes. Bess and George swung forward on the front seat of the convertible.

"What-?" Bess began.

Then she saw why Nancy had stopped so abruptly. An exquisite Persian kitten was wobbling slowly across the road!

"Oh!" Bess cried out. "I'm glad you didn't hit the poor thing. Isn't it darling?"

"I wonder if it belongs to Miss Carter," Nancy replied. "In any case I think we'd better pick up the kitten and take it to her."

She parked the car at the curb and jumped out. As Nancy cuddled the tiny animal, it seemed content and fell asleep at once.

"It's precious!" Bess exclaimed, stroking the t.i.tian ball of fluff.

The three girls went up the front walk and rang the bell of the colonial brick house. A plump, white-haired woman opened the door.

"h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Bealing," said Nancy and introduced her friends.

"I'm so glad you came," the nurse said. "Things are so spooky around this place. Why, where did you get that kitten, Nancy?"

When she heard that it had been found in the roadway, Mrs. Bealing declared the little creature must be one of Miss Carter's valuable cats. "We'll carry it upstairs and ask her."

The house had a center hallway with wide doorways to adjoining rooms. The furnishings were a pleasant conglomerate of antique and modem pieces. Draperies and fibergla.s.s curtains hung at each window.

Miss Carter sat in a cheerful, sunny bedroom. She was slight in build with gray hair and bright, laughing brown eyes. She welcomed the girls cordially with both hands from a couch. Her right leg was in a cast. A wheel chair stood nearby.

"You were so good to come," she said, and added with a trilly little laugh, "Oh, have you brought me a kitten?"

Nancy shook her head and explained where she had found the animal. "I thought perhaps it belongs to you."

Miss Carter took the kitten on her lap. "Why, I believe this is one of mine," she said quickly. "But how in the world did it get out of the locked garage and caged area where I keep my pets?"

Though she had not been downstairs in weeks, Miss Carter insisted upon going out to her back yard to investigate. Nancy and George carried the frail woman to the first floor, and Bess brought the wheel chair downstairs.

The first floor was on ground level so there was no difficulty in wheeling Miss Carter across the rear lawn toward the garage. On the way she explained that after purchasing the house she had had no money left to build a cattery for the Persians.

"But my pets seem to be content to sleep on hay on the floor of the garage or up on shelves around the walls. A friend gave me several Persians and thought I might breed them. They do sell for good prices."

By this time they had reached the garage. The big double front doors were locked as well as the entrance door on the right side.