10 Password to Larkspur Lane



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010 Password to Larkspur Lane

CHAPTER III
A Chase
“LET me go or I’ll scream!” Nancy cried out.
Instantly the man released her arm, but he
swiftly stepped in front of her. “Wait a
minute,”
he commanded. “You want to help your
father, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Nancy said warily. She studied the husky,
broad-shouldered man. He had heavy brows,
deep-set eyes, and a cruel mouth.
“You’re Nancy Drew, aren’t you?”


Nancy hesitated, afraid he might be trying to
find her father to harm him. “Are you sure
you’re talking to the right person?” she asked.
“Okay,” the man said bitterly, “play it smart.
It’s been years since I saw Drew and maybe
I’m wrong. But I could be right, so you take a
message.”
Nancy did not reply, and the stranger went
on, “Tell Carson Drew to mind his own
business or he’s in for a bad shock.”
“If you’re through,” Nancy said coldly, “I’ll
go now.”
The man stepped aside and she hurried from
the parking lot, her heart pounding. As she
reached the sidewalk Nancy came face to
face with two friends.


“Why, Nancy Drew!” exclaimed Jean Moss.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” Her escort,
Bill Wright, added, “Been solving any
mysteries lately?”
Nancy’s heart sank. Had the man in the
parking lot heard them? She managed to talk
pleasantly with the couple for a few minutes
but she was worried.
As Jean and Bill moved off, Nancy heard a
soft laugh from the shadows. A moment later
a deep voice said mockingly, “Good night,
Miss Drew.” The speaker melted into the
darkness.
Biting her lip in vexation, Nancy ran to police
headquarters. The officer on duty directed her
to the Detective Bureau. Here Mr. Drew was
conferring with Lieutenant Mulligan, a red-


faced, brawny man with thinning hair. He
knew the Drews only by reputation.
11
Once again Nancy told her story. The
detective jotted down the partial license
number of the suspicious car.
When Nancy handed him the bracelet, he
said, “Hmm. Has an inscription, but it’s old.
Mary and Joe could have been dead for years.
No last name or dates, either. Afraid it won’t
be much use to us.”
“If you don’t mind,” Nancy said, “I’d like to
see if I can trace the owner.”
“Go ahead,” the lieutenant said and gave it
back. “We’ll check out the car’s license


number, but probably the kidnappers are
using phony plates.”
As Nancy and her father walked to the
parking lot, she told him about the stranger
who had accosted her there and the warning
message.
Mr. Drew frowned. “I don’t know who he
could be. Some crank, I suppose.”
Cars were closely parked on either side of
Nancy’s convertible, so she gave her full
attention to pulling out of the tight space.
Soon after she had driven into the street and
turned toward home, headlights appeared in
her mirror. The right one was dim!
“Dad, the same car that followed us before is
behind us,” Nancy said tensely. “I’m afraid


the driver’s the man who wants to harm you!
Let’s try to shake him.”
Keeping within the speed limit, Nancy drove
into the residential section of the city, taking
every cutoff and winding street she knew.
Meanwhile Mr. Drew watched the car
behind, which continued to follow.
“It seems useless to try getting away,” he said
finally. “I’d like to get a good look at the
driver.”
“All right,” Nancy replied.
She increased her speed, widening the
distance between the two cars, until she
approached an intersection where there was a
bright overhead light. She swung around, her


tires squealing on the asphalt, and stopped
short, facing her pursuer.
When he came abreast of them, Carson Drew
gasped. “Trail him!” the lawyer ordered as
the driver zoomed off.
Nancy turned again and pursued the sedan.
Just as she was about to overtake it, the traffic
light ahead turned red. The driver rode
straight through, rounded a corner, and
disappeared.
Nancy sighed. “We’ll never find him now.”
“Never mind,” said Mr. Drew. “It was a good
try. Let’s go home.”
12


“Who was that man, Dad?” Nancy asked.
“Adam Thorne, an escaped convict. Thank
goodness he didn’t hurt you.”
Nancy shuddered. “What was he jailed for?”
“Thorne was given ten years for embezzling
the assets of an estate. While in jail he became
very bitter and at times violent.”
“But what’s his interest in you?” Nancy
queried.
Mr. Drew explained that Thorne had been a
River Heights attorney. “He was disbarred
prior to his trial and I was in charge of
gathering the evidence against him.”


“I see,” said Nancy. “Dad, I have a hunch
Adam Thorne is involved in the bluebell
mystery.
He must have been spying outside Dr. Spire’s
house and recognized you. Probably he’s not
only looking for revenge, but wants to keep
us from working on the case.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. For Pete’s sake be
careful, Nancy.”
“You too, Dad.”
A few minutes later the Drews reached home.
While Nancy checked on Hannah, who was
asleep, Mr. Drew called Lieutenant Mulligan
and reported his daughter’s encounter with
Adam Thorne and the resultant, unsuccessful
chase.


“If Thorne’s tied in with Dr. Spire’s
kidnapping,” said Mulligan, “he’ll stop at
nothing. I’ll broadcast a bulletin immediately.”
The next morning Nancy was up early and
went to talk to Hannah Gruen.
“I have good news for you,” the housekeeper
said. “My niece Effie has offered to come
here and work while I’m laid up.”
“Good. Effie’s fun.”
“And scatterbrained sometimes,” Hannah
remarked.
After breakfast Nancy drove off to get Effie
Schneider. When she rang the bell of the
small frame cottage, the door was opened by
Effie’s mother.


“Hello, Mrs. Schneider,” said Nancy. “How
are you?”
“Fine, thanks. Please come in. Effie isn’t
dressed yet. She’s been reading a movie
magazine instead of putting on her clothes....
Effie!” she called.
13
“Here I am, Mom,” a high-pitched voice
replied. “Hi, Nancy!” said the girl as she
walked into the living room munching a
banana.
“Hello, Effie,” Nancy greeted the thin,
seventeen-year-old girl.
Effie had light-blond hair, which she wore
close-cropped with feathery bangs over her


forehead. She was dressed in a Chinese-style
pink kimono, with high-heeled satin mules.
“This outfit is like the one Ling Su wore in
the movie, ‘The Chinese Wall Mystery,’ ”
Effie remarked, making an Oriental bow.
Nancy grinned, but Mrs. Schneider said tartly,
“Hurry up and put on street clothes, Effie.”
As her daughter went off, Mrs. Schneider
turned to Nancy. “Once Effie stops mooning
about movie stars and singers, she’s really a
good worker and a dandy cook.”
Nancy had her doubts about this, but later
was agreeably surprised when Effie prepared
a delicious luncheon of chicken salad, hot
rolls, and iced tea. She would not let Nancy
help her.


“Aunt Hannah told me you’re working on a
mystery,” Effie said. “That’s exciting. You
keep your mind on the case. I’ll do the work
around the house. I once read a mystery about
a circus girl who was shot out of a cannon
and disappeared. It took three detectives a
whole month to find her. Bet you can’t guess
where.”
Nancy grinned. “Inside the cannon?”
“Oh gee, how’d you know?” Effie said. “You
must have read the story.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Bewildered, Effie shook her head and walked
off. After eating lunch, Nancy decided to start
tracing the owner of the bracelet. Half an
hour later she walked into Butler and Stone’s


jewelry store and asked for Mr. Stone, who
was a personal friend.
“Well, Nancy, what can I do for you?” the
jeweler asked cordially. “Are you interested in
a diamond-studded detective badge today?”
he teased.
Nancy laughed. “Do you sell them?” she
countered.
“Oh sure. To the police,” the jeweler replied
with a grin.
Nancy took the bracelet from her purse. “Mr.
Stone, could you trace this coat of arms?”
The jeweler held the bracelet toward the
window to get a better look at the heraldic
design on the shield. As he did, Nancy


noticed a large woman in a pink butterfly
print dress looking through the plate-glass
window
14
“Just a moment,” Nancy said quickly to Mr.
Stone. “Is there some other place—”
The jeweler understood at once. “Another
mystery?” he asked.
When Nancy nodded, he motioned to a
private office at the back of the store. Once
again Mr. Stone examined the bracelet. “This
was made in Victorian times,” he announced.
“I doubt if it was designed around here.
Hmm, an attractive coat of arms. Three
mullets dexter and a Maltese cross sinister;


crest, a falcon’s head embattled, with the
motto ‘Esse quam videre.’
“Every authentic coat of arms is a matter of
record,” Mr. Stone explained. “It will take
time, but we will be able to trace the family, if
not the individual owner. May I keep the
bracelet temporarily?”
Nancy hesitated. “It doesn’t belong to me,”
she said. “Could you make a copy of the
crest?”
“Certainly. Please take a seat.” Mr. Stone
excused himself and went out. In fifteen
minutes he returned, gave the bracelet to
Nancy, and said he would send the tracing to
Mr. Abelard de Gotha, an expert on coats of
arms.


“Thank you. I’ll stop by in a couple of days
to see if you’ve heard about it,” Nancy said.
As the young detective left the store her
thoughts turned to the sick woman who had
given the bracelet to Dr. Spire.
“I wonder who she is, poor thing.”
At the corner Nancy waited with a group of
people for the light to change. As the walk
signal came on, someone pushed roughly past
her and darted out into the street. Nancy
recognized the pink butterfly print dress and
at the same moment realized that her arm felt
strangely light.
“My handbag!” Nancy gasped. “It’s gone!”


The woman was hurrying ahead of the
crowd. Nancy was sure she had stolen the
bag and sprinted after her.
“Stop!” Nancy shouted, but the woman broke
into a run.
Nancy put on a spurt of speed and caught up
to her on the far sidewalk. “Give me back my


The big woman whirled and gave Nancy a
powerful push that sent her reeling. She fell
backward off the curb!
15



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