The Mystery at Lilac Inn - Carolyn Keene [38]
“Maud insinuated that if I tried to force her to leave, she would say that—that I had stolen your diamonds, Emily, by getting them from the bank weeks ago, and substituting the fake stones!”
“How dreadful!” Nancy cried out, and Emily added fiercely, “That awful woman! But, Aunt Hazel, we never would have believed her.”
“I know,” Mrs. Willoughby said ruefully. “But with so many strange things happening, I guess I wasn’t thinking logically.”
Nancy had one more question to clear up regarding Maud Potter. She decided to mention Jean Holmes’ warning about the woman.
“Did any of you notice Maud going into our cottage the day of the fire?” Nancy asked. “Or our room here?”
No one had. Furthermore, Mrs. Willoughby added, “I believe Jean must have been mistaken. When Maud wasn’t with us, she stayed in her room typing. She probably was writing letters of application.”
Presently Nancy excused herself, saying she wanted to take a walk and do some thinking. Once outside, she took a trail toward the river. Drops of rain still sparkled on the foliage.
Nancy’s thoughts reverted to Jean’s story about Maud. “It sounds as though the waitress might not have been telling the truth. But why would she want to incriminate Maud? And why did Jean appear so uneasy when I mentioned ‘blue pipes’?”
The young sleuth suddenly roused from her concentration on the puzzle and became aware of an interesting, gnarled apple tree along the riverbank. Just then she noticed an envelope stuck in a crotch of the tree.
Nancy picked up the damp envelope, wondering if it had blown there during the storm or been placed in the crotch, perhaps for someone to find. There was no stamp or address on the envelope, only a name—Miss Lillie Merriweather.
Suddenly Nancy’s eye was caught by the fact that in the typed name the letter a was very faint. This, as well as the rest of the typing, reminded Nancy suddenly of the envelope found with her charge plate.
“I wonder if they were done on the same machine!” she thought excitedly.
The flap of the envelope had become unsealed from dampness and the girl slid the letter out easily. A pink lilac spray adorned the top left corner of the stationery. A message below it, all typed, read:
Dear Lillie:
I hope we can get together soon. I’ve been busy lining up an important job. Give my best to your dad. Tell him I have a beautiful blue pipe for him. Hope to see you soon.
Hastily, but with love,
Gay
Nancy’s heart was thumping with excitement. Lilacs—“blue pipes”—two envelopes bearing the same type—was someone named Gay her impersonator?
“The name Lillie Merriweather sounds vaguely familiar,” the girl detective thought.
Hastily she slid the letter back into the envelope and put it in the tree. She would alert the police to watch for anyone returning to look for the letter.
As Nancy hurried back to the inn, she recalled Mrs. Willoughby saying that Maud Potter had been typing. By some chance was the director still a possible suspect in the mystery? Was she the person who had typed the envelope containing Nancy’s charge plate?
“I’ll check,” Nancy determined. She went upstairs and knocked on Maud’s bedroom door. It was flung open by the director.
“Yes?” she snapped.
“May I come in?” Nancy asked.
Grudgingly, Maud allowed Nancy to enter and the detective saw that a suitcase was nearly packed. On a desk stood Maud’s typewriter, with a blank piece of paper in the roller.
“Well, Nancy, what do you want?” Maud asked.
Watching the woman closely, Nancy queried, “Have you heard from Gay or Lillie lately?”
“What?” Maud appeared flabbergasted. “I don’t know any Gay or Lillie. Now stop quizzing me as if I had done something criminal.”
“I suppose,” Nancy said icily, “that practically blackmailing Mrs. Willoughby isn’t?”
To her surprise, Maud burst into tears. Between sobs she told Nancy that she had never intended to carry out her threat. “I don’t know why I did it. Hazel has been very good to me. I guess I’ve just been upset and worried about money ever since my husband’s death.”
Nancy