Mystery of the Winged Lion by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene [Keene, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Nancy, Bess, and George had determined the steps they would take should their abductors return. Hoping it would be soon, they waited in the unbroken silence of their prison.

Then, several hours later, they heard the familiar clatter of shoes on the cold marble floor outside.

“Get ready,” Nancy whispered to her friends.

George immediately felt her muscles tighten while Bess, quivering slightly, tried to quell her nervousness. The footsteps halted just outside the door, and someone began to push the handle, at the same time muttering in Italian. Nancy laid her hand on Bess’s signaling her to remain quiet.

“Che cosa ce che non funziona con questa porta? What’s the matter with this door?” he said as the handle jiggled from side to side, convincing the young detective that it was not one of their captors. If it were, he would know there was a lug in the lock.

“It’s stuck!” she called out.

“Chi ce U? Who’s there?” the man replied, letting the knob go and causing Nancy to strain for the little Italian she knew.

“Siamo in tre. Bloccatio. Per favore aiute- teci,” she said haltingly. “Three of us. Locked up. Please help.”

“Where’d he go?” Bess asked as the man left in silence.

“I hope he went to get help,” George answered, but to the girls’ chagrin, it seemed to take forever before the stranger returned.

His voice, now low and indistinct, rose only once as someone else, probably a locksmith or a maintenance person, tried to remove the lug. After several attempts, all of them unsuccessful, he began to drill around it.

“I don’t believe it,” Bess said. “We’re really going to get out of here.”

But her optimism faded quickly as the work on the door came to an unexpected end and the men departed.

“What’s the matter? Why did they stop?” George asked, no less agitated than her two companions.

"I don’t know, but I hope they come back before our captors do,” Nancy said.

“Oh, Nancy, you’re right,” Bess replied. “What'll we do—”

“Look, let’s not get ourselves upset before it happens,” George interrupted, trying to relax.

But it was not until the work on the lock started again that the trio felt another glimmer of hope, and it was not until the door stood open that they believed they were free.

“Grazie, grazie,” the girls said over and over to their rescuers, one of whom proved to be a priest.

He smiled through his owl-eyed glasses, nodding as he stepped past Nancy to look into the room. Upon sight of the rope and the gags, he gasped in horror, pointing them out to the other man in workclothes who stood behind him. Nancy showed them the deep, red impressions that circled her wrists, then indicated Bess’s and George’s, too.

Exclamations of horror sputtered from the priest as he took Nancy’s hand and led her forward. Bess and George followed, leaving the workman behind to pick up his tools and the evidence of the girls’ imprisonment. Soon they found themselves in an office at one end of the basilica, where the priest made a phone call to police headquarters.

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