“Would you give us some personal information
about your sister?” Lieutenant Masters asked
kindly. “Was she younger than you?”
“No. Julie was seven years older. Our parents
died when we were children, and we lived with an
aunt who was pretty strict. I never minded Aunt
Mattie’s scolding, but Julie, who was high
strung, resented it. She took dancing lessons
secretly, and when Aunt Mattie found out and
punished her for it, Julie ran away.
“For several years Julie danced wherever she
could get an engagement and studied during her
spare moments.”
The policewoman asked, “Did you see Juliana
often after she became famous?”
“Only now and then. But she called me every
week. I was so excited when she became engaged
to Walter Heath. It was to be kept from the press,
so of course I told no one.”
“Could anything have happened between Juli-
ana and Mr. Heath to make her unhappy enough
to disappear?” Nancy asked.
Mrs. Fenimore shook her head. “Julie was
beautiful and talented. He was handsome,
wealthy, and kind. They adored each other. I’m
sure he had nothing to do with her disappearance.”
Mention of the deceased estate owner reminded
Nancy of the real purpose of her call. She asked
Mrs. Fenimore about the strange identification
clause in the will.
“I wondered myself what that meant when I
read it,” the woman replied.
“Do you think Daniel Hector might have an
answer?” Nancy asked.
Mrs. Fenimore’s face darkened. “Please don’t
mention that man’s name! I detest him. All these
years he’s only been pretending to search for
Julie.”
“Pretending?”
“Once in a while he would call to tell me about
his attempts to find her but they sounded half-
hearted. Now he doesn’t even phone. I’m sure
he’s stopped trying. I’m counting on you. Nancy,
to solve the mystery.”
Nancy promised to do everything she could to
trace the missing dancer. Secretly she wondered
if she could find the woman in time to save the
inheritance for her.
“May I see a photograph of your sister?” she
requested.
“I have a number of excellent ones,” Mrs. Feni-
more replied. “I’ll give you one. They’re in the
drawer of this table.”
She took them out. There were six, taken years
89
SUSPICIOUS FIGURES
before when the dancer was at the height of her
career. Several were inscribed with her name and
a greeting. The face was a distinctive one. Care-
fully Nancy noted the perfect features, the beauti-
ful dark eyes, the straight nose and firm chin.
“Julie may have changed a great deal since I
last saw her,” Mrs. Fenimore remarked. “Ten
years have gone by.”
“Your sister is lovely,” Nancy commented.
“Joan looks a little like her.”
“Yes, she does. And certainly my daughter has
Julie’s vivacious ways. She’s quite a little actress.
Maybe someday-”
Mrs. Fenimore looked sadly into space. Lieu-
tenant Masters, fearing the conversation had up-
set the woman, said they must leave.
“Please try not to worry,” Nancy urged Mrs.
Fenimore who handed her a photograph as they
said good-by.
When she and the officer reached their cars,
Nancy thanked Lieutenant Masters for her help.
“Call on me any time,” the young woman said
as she drove off.
Nancy decided to take a walk and think about
the case.
As she wandered up the street, children were
coming home from school to lunch. She saw Joan
playing with an older boy in a vacant lot. They
were tossing a ball for a dog to retrieve.
“That boy looks familiar,” Nancy thought as
she walked over to the children. Suddenly, in a
fit of temper, the boy hit the dog with a stick.
“Cut it out!” he shouted. “You’re chewing my
ball to pieces!”
Joan screamed.
“Stop that!” Nancy ordered. “The dog hasn’t
hurt your ball. He was only playing.”
The boy gazed at her with hard, unfriendly
eyes. “Is he your dog?” he asked impudently.
“No.”
“Then it’s none of your business if I hit him.”
Nancy started to reply, but it was not neces-
sary. The dog dropped the ball and slunk off.
The boy picked it up. Then, giving Nancy a
baleful look, he ran away.
Nancy took Joan by the hand and led her off.