“Looks as if there’d been a funeral here,” one of the police officers observed.
Both girls stood trembling as he banged and pounded on the door and then shouted a threat to the still house.
“Nobody home,” he turned and said. “Do you think it’s necessary to force our way in?”
“More than ever,” Judy replied. “We must see what’s in the tower!”
“Okay! Give me a hand, partner, and we’ll smash the door.”
Underneath the porch they found a beam which would serve their purpose. Peter and Dale helped the policemen, and soon the heavy door gave way and crashed into the empty house. A sickening, musty smell combined with the heady odor of flowers greeted them as they stepped inside.
“A funeral all right!” the policeman reiterated. “Get the perfume, don’t you? But everything’s cleared up—except....” He and Judy had seen it at the same time but the policeman was the first to pick it up. “... this card.”
“Let me see it.”
Obligingly he handed it to the girl. She turned it over in her hand and passed it on to Dale. It read:
With deepest sympathy