The Case Of The Not-So-Nice Nurse. Mabel Maney

For once Cherry was thankful that the creaky old elevator was its usual slow self, for it gave her a chance to read.

      River Depths, Illinois—Well-known attorney Carson Clue was found shot through the heart early today in the kitchen of his exclusive River Depths home. Although he was a successful attorney in his own right, Carson Clue was perhaps best known as the father of girl detective Nancy Clue, whose exploits are familiar to newspaper readers everywhere.

      In a dramatic call to police, long-time housekeeper Hannah Gruel confessed that she had murdered the popular attorney during a domestic quarrel.

      “I told that man time and time again to keep out of my kitchen while I was baking!” Miss Gruel declared as she was led away in handcuffs to the Illinois State Prison for Women.

      According to Miss Gruel, at the time of the shooting, Nancy Clue was camping with her closest chums Bess Marvel and George Fey at nearby Lake Merrimen. After making a short statement to the police, the young detective headed west to stay with relatives.

      Cherry read the story over and over as the elevator crept to the sixth floor. She could scarcely believe it—Nancy Clue’s father dead at the hands of kindly housekeeper Hannah Gruel! It just couldn’t be!

      Why, just last night, while relaxing in the probation nurses’ lounge, Cherry had read an article about the Clues and their beloved housekeeper Hannah. The latest issue of Girls’ Life magazine had arrived that day in a care package from her mother, along with dusting powder, cologne and iced raisin cookies. Her roommate, Nurse Cassie Case, a perky brunette with a winning smile, stopped by the lounge to sample one of Mrs. Aimless’s prize-winning cookies. She kidded Cherry when she caught her carefully tearing a photo of Nancy from the magazine. “Is that for your shrine?” she joked.

      Cherry had blushed. It was no secret that she practically worshipped Nancy Clue. More than anything, Cherry wanted to be courageous and forthright, like Nancy. Although they were as different as two girls could be, Nancy with her immaculately groomed titian hair, charm school education and fearless nose for danger, and Cherry, a small-town girl with a hopeless mop of unruly curls and a shy manner, she nonetheless felt that, given the right opportunity, they could become fast friends.

      “Nancy’s done so much good for so many; if only there was something I could do to help her!” she cried aloud, forgetting for a moment that she was in a crowded elevator. She clapped a hand over her mouth and blushed a deep crimson. Thankfully, the elevator had arrived at her floor. She tucked the newspaper under her arm and rushed from the crowded elevator—and smack into Head Nurse Margaret Marstad!

      “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Cherry cried, reaching out a hand to help the handsome head nurse regain her balance. Nurse Marstad haughtily straightened her cap and got a grip on her armload of medical charts.

      “Nurse Aimless, you’re late,” she said curtly as she stepped into the vacancy Cherry had left in the elevator. “And fix your cap; it’s all askew,” she added, as the doors closed in front of her frowning face. Cherry brushed aside hot tears and raced past the main nurse’s station and down the long, brightly-lit corridor that led to the Women’s Psychiatric Ward. She straightened her cap and raced through the oak double-doors opening onto the ward.

      Nurse Penny Perkins was waiting for Cherry at the far end of the open thirty-bed ward. She smiled when she saw her frazzled friend.

      “Am I ever glad to see you,” said Penny. “I told Marstad that the clinic called and said there was an emergency and you would be late, but you know how strict she is. Why, the way she acts, we might as well be in the army!”

      Cherry nodded. It was no secret that Nurse Marstad was a tough taskmaster. She was just about to tell Nurse Perkins about her run-in with Nurse Marstad, but her co-worker wasn’t finished yet.

      “It’s been so quiet all day Marstad asked me to go help out in Emergency. Call her at her office if you need help,” she added as she threw a regulation nurse’s sweater over her strong shoulders and began gathering up her things.

      Cherry shuddered at the thought of admitting to Nurse Marstad that she needed help. When Cherry had met the capable yet stern head nurse a year ago at her interview for the coveted job of General Hospital nurse, she had resolved to be the best probation nurse ever. More than anything, she wanted Nurse Marstad to like her!

      “Now I’m in trouble because I stopped to get the evening paper,” she thought, unfolding the newspaper she had tucked under her arm, intending to show the headline to Nurse Perkins. “Guess what happened!” she cried. But before she could continue, the emergency light flashed twice.

      “That’s my call,” Nurse Perkins said gaily, sweeping past Cherry and heading toward the elevator. She waved back at Cherry. “I should be back in a couple of hours. Tell me then.”

      While Cherry was most anxious to discuss the murder of Carson Clue, she realized she had a job to do, and got on with the business of nursing. It was almost time for evening medications, and Cherry busied herself preparing the pills and injections that would help her patients get a good night’s sleep. A half hour later her task was completed, and she found her attention wandering back to the newspaper story. Try as she might, she just couldn’t stop thinking about the murder. Something just didn’t seem right.

      “Hannah’s been like a mother to me,” Nancy had been quoted in the Girls’ Life article. “How strange,” Cherry mused, “that helpful Hannah, who had given a lifetime of care to Mr. Clue and his motherless daughter, should turn out to be a murderess.” She wished she had time to examine the newspaper article. Perhaps there was something she had missed, something that would explain the odd turn of events.

      Like her heroine, Cherry had earned a reputation as a detective. In her first month at General Hospital she had solved the mystery of the vanishing valium. Using cool logic and keen sleuthing, she was able to follow a trail to Dr. Kildare and expose him as a thief who supported a lavish lifestyle by selling dangerous drugs pilfered from the hospital. Now her detective skills were being put to good use on the psychiatric ward, where hospital authorities had twice called upon her to help identify amnesia victims.

      The drama of hospital life suited Cherry, who was happiest when she was helping others. The recent nursing school graduate found her work at the big city hospital exciting after a lifetime in the sleepy farm town of Pleasantville, Idaho. And she especially loved a good mystery! She had already helped to identify one amnesia victim, now home and safe with her family. But try as she might, she wasn’t getting any closer to identifying the other amnesiac, tagged Jane Doe #313 by hospital authorities, but nicknamed Lana by the nurses because of her striking resemblance to the beautiful blond movie star Lana Turner.

      There certainly weren’t many clues to go on, Cherry thought as she reviewed the case. Lana had appeared at the hospital two days before, carrying a paper sack containing a small black plastic comb, a brand-new tube of red lipstick, and a hardcover book to which she seemed unnaturally attached. No identification papers were found, and her simple, well-made clothes had no labels.

      Lovely Lana quickly became the newest attraction on the ward, charming everyone with her delightful manners and sweet disposition. Even gruff Head Nurse Marstad had succumbed to her charms and had been seen at Lana’s bedside with a box of chocolates in her hand.

      So far, Cherry had been frustrated in her attempts to draw anything personal out of Lana, who had remained vague during their two late-night conversations. Cherry sighed. Despite all her efforts, she had been unable to find even one piece of the puzzle.

      “Tonight I’ll try extra hard to dig up a clue,” she vowed, as she carried the tray of medication through the ward. She smiled as she surveyed the attractive room, painted a cheery salmon and filled with flowers. Many nurses disliked the night shift, and would have let the long hours dampen their spirits, but not Cherry. She loved nursing under any conditions, and she especially liked working at the overcrowded old city hospital, where the patients really seemed to need her.

      As a young girl she had often dreamt of a night just like tonight; dreamt of being in charge of a ward of patients,