Vicky Van

Vicky Van Summary

Vicky Van by Carolyn Wells is a mystery novel published in 1918, featuring the enigmatic socialite Victoria "Vicky" Van Allen. The story unfolds when a wealthy man is murdered during one of Vicky's lively parties, leading to her sudden disappearance and a thrilling investigation that delves into themes of identity, societal expectations, and the complexities of human relationships.

eBook download options

Format	Price	Download
azw3	Free
Mobi	Free
Epub	Free
pdf	Free

Vicky Van Excerpt

Short Summary: At one of Vicky Van's renowned parties, an uninvited guest is found murdered, prompting Vicky's mysterious disappearance and a complex investigation that uncovers hidden facets of her life and questions of innocence and guilt.

"No, come over here and hear this awful gossip Ariadne is telling for solemn truth. It's the very worst taradiddle she ever got off!"

"Here's a place, Vicky Van, a nice cosy corner, 'tween Jim and me. Come on, Ladygirl."

"No, thanks, everybody. I'm going to cut in at this table. May I? Am I a nuisance?"

"A Vicky-nuisance! They ain't no such animal!" and Bailey Mason rose to give her his chair.

"No," said she, "I want you to stay, Mr. Mason. 'Cause why, I want to play wiz you. Cassie, you give me your place, won't you, Ducky-Daddles? and you go and flirt with Mr. Calhoun. He knows the very newest flirts! Go, give him a tryout."

Vicky Van settled herself into her seat with the happy little sigh of the bridge lover, who sits down with three good players, and in another moment she was breathlessly looking over her hand.

"Without," she said, triumphantly, and knowing she'd say no word more to me for the present, I walked away with Cassie Weldon. And Cassie was good fun. She took me to the piano, and we sang coon songs and ragtime melodies, until I forgot all about the game of bridge, and the merry crowd playing it.

But after a time, I heard a little commotion in the hall, and I looked up to see a newcomer. He was a man of about forty, well-built and well-dressed, but with a certain air of assertiveness that proclaimed him a person of importance in his own estimation, at least.

"Hello, Steele," he said, addressing our host. "Thought I'd drop in and see what you folks are up to tonight."

"Glad to see you, Somers," returned Steele, cordially. "Come in and join the fun. You know most everybody, don't you?"

"Not everybody," and Somers smiled a little as he glanced around the room. "But I'm willing to learn."

Steele laughed. "All right," he said; "come along, and I'll introduce you to the crowd."

I watched with some curiosity as the two men went from group to group. Somers was affable and pleasant, but I couldn't help feeling that he was taking mental notes of the people he met, and that he was not averse to making a good impression himself.

When they reached the bridge table where Vicky Van was playing, I saw her look up with a little start of surprise. She flushed slightly, and then, with a charming smile, held out her hand to the newcomer.

"Mr. Somers," said Steele, "let me present you to Miss Van Allen."

"Delighted," murmured Somers, bowing low over her hand. "I've heard so much about you, Miss Van Allen, that I feel we are already old friends."

"Indeed?" said Vicky, arching her eyebrows. "I hope you've heard nothing but good of me."

"Nothing but the best," he assured her, with a smile that showed his white teeth.

"Then you must have been listening to my very good friends," she retorted, laughing. "But won't you join our game, Mr. Somers? We're just about to start a new rubber."

"Thank you, I'd be delighted," and he drew up a chair beside her.

As the game progressed, I couldn't help noticing that Somers paid more attention to Vicky than to his cards. He was evidently fascinated by her, and she, on her part, seemed to enjoy his admiration. They laughed and chatted together, oblivious to the rest of the company, and I saw more than one amused glance cast in their direction.

After the game, Somers attached himself to Vicky's side, and they strolled into the conservatory together. I felt a vague uneasiness at the situation, for though Vicky Van was always friendly and charming to her guests, she had never before singled out any one man for special attention.

It was nearly an hour later when a sudden, sharp cry rang through the house. The laughter and conversation ceased abruptly, and everyone turned toward the sound. It had come from the conservatory.

A moment later, Vicky Van appeared in the doorway. Her face was deathly pale, and she clutched at the doorframe for support. Her eyes were wide with terror.

"Something has happened!" she gasped. "Come—quickly!"

With a rush, we all followed her into the conservatory. There, lying on the floor, was Somers—motionless.

A thin trickle of blood ran from his temple, staining the marble tiles beneath him. He was dead.

Vicky Van stood frozen, staring at the lifeless form. Then, with a sudden, wild cry, she turned and fled—out of the room, out of the house, into the night.

She was gone.