“It’s a Belden specialty,” Mr. Belden said and passed the jug of maple syrup to Diana at his side. “Bobby must have had quite a day. He was so tired he couldn’t hold his head up. I let him climb into bed with his clothes on—even his shoes.”
“You didn’t!” Mrs. Belden said, more amused than shocked. “Brian, will you please answer the doorbell? Who could be stopping by now? One of the neighbors, I guess, to ask about Janie.”
When Brian returned, Juliana was ahead of him. Her eyes traveled quickly around the group at the table. “Where’s Janie? Nobody told me about her. Did you find her?”
“I tried to telephone you,” Jim said, “but you weren’t home.”
“Janie’s resting,” Mrs. Belden explained. “She had quite a fall. It’s been quite a day for all of us. Will you have waffles, Juliana? There are hot ones just coming up.”
Juliana shook her head.
“Or coffee?Or a piece of cake? I baked it while I was waiting for everyone to come back. I’d have lost my mind if I hadn’t been able to do something.” Moms is talking too much, Trixie thought. That means she’s nervous. Juliana seems to do this to people.
“I'm sorry I wasn’t here to go with the rest of you,” Juliana said, addressing her remark to Jim. “I've had things to attend to.”
“Did you have an answer from Holland?”
“No, Jim, and I just have to have an answer pretty soon... very, very soon.” Juliana’s voice thinned. “Those thoughtless people in The Hague. No word at all!”
“Maybe you should have written to Mrs. Schimmel to take care of it for you,” Trixie suggested. “She’s right there in The Hague, as you know.”
“Mrs. Schimmel? Who— Oh, yes, Mrs. Schimmel. I always called her by a pet name. She’s far too busy.” Juliana got up hurriedly. “If Janie seems to be all right, I’ll go on. You don’t need to go with me, Jim. I’ll go by myself.”
Mrs. Belden and the Bob-Whites followed her to the front door.
“It’s getting late, Juliana,” Mrs. Belden said, “quite late, and its dark. After Janie’s experience.... Don’t you think Jim had better go with you?”
“No. I like the walk,” Juliana said hastily. “This isn’t New York’s Central Park, you know. It’s the little hick village of Sleepyside. I’ll see you later.” Mart whistled. “She almost blew out the front door. She’s in a thing about something.”
“Whether she wants it or not, I’m going to walk along behind her,” Jim announced. He closed the screen door quietly. “We’ve had enough episodes for one day.”
Back in the kitchen, the Bob-Whites grew quieter, realizing, finally, how tired they really were. But, even so, the girls had the dishes done in no time at all. Mr. and Mrs. Belden settled in the living room to read.
“Stay with me tonight, Honey, please,” Trixie begged. “I’m still tingling. I can’t sleep, I know. We can talk—”
The door slammed. Jim came stalking in without knocking.
How do you like that?” he interrupted, sputtering. “I’m the world’s prize nitwit. I should have known she wasn’t walking home. It was that car again—the green Buick—parked down the road. I saw her get into it. Why couldn’t she have said so?”
“Maybe she’s going to give the Dutch lawyer the heave-ho,” Mart suggested. “Maybe she’s found a new love.”
“She doesn’t need to be so secretive about it. Who cares?” Trixie snorted. “Oh, Jim, I forgot. After all, she is your cousin.”
“That doesn’t keep me from wondering, too. Maybe she doesn’t want Mrs. Vanderpoel to know. I don’t know why she pussyfoots around the way she does. But, as your mom told me, it’s really none of my business. I’m ready to call it a day. Come along, Honey. We’ll take Di home. It’s a shame Dan couldn’t have stayed for some of those waffles, Mrs. Belden. Thanks a million.”
“I think Honey will stay with me, Jim, maybe even for the weekend. She almost promised,” Trixie told him.
“I’d love to, if you think Mom won’t mind, Jim. Do you?”
“Have you ever known her to mind when you stay at Crabapple Farm? Come along, Di, you’re stuck with me. I’ll drive you home. I’ll stop early in the morning, and we’ll all go and talk with the police about those signs.”
Brian and Mart went to their rooms.
Mrs. Belden went to Janie’s room to check on her, then she and Mr. Belden said good night to Trixie and Honey.
Trixie let Reddy out and watched him go galloping around the yard. Then she and Honey went upstairs.
Report to Sergeant Molinson ● 14
AS THE STATION WAGON left Crabapple Farm the next morning to take the Bob-Whites to confer with Sergeant Molinson, Trixie said unexpectedly, “Let's stop at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house. Maybe Juliana would like to go with us.”
Mart turned around and looked at her as though she had two heads.
Jim, surprised, said quickly, “Okay.”
Dan Mangan, the most matter-of-fact member of the club, asked, “Why? She wasn’t anyplace in the woods yesterday. She’s never with us.”
“Maybe that’s why,” Trixie said. “I’ve been thinking that we could have tried harder to be with her more. It’s Janie’s accident that threw us off—when she lost her memory and we brought her to live with us. I guess we just paid more attention to her because she seemed to need us more.”
Juliana wasn’t at home, as usual, when they stopped.
“She went out early this morning, about nine o’clock,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said. “Come in, all of you. I haven’t seen any of you but Jim for a long time. You must be pretty busy getting ready for the horse show at the Turf Club. That Regan is a slave driver, isn’t he?”
Honey laughed. “Usually he is. He’s been swell about our practicing lately. He and Dan give the horses a workout. We help when we can. It isn’t often enough. Did you hear what happened yesterday, Mrs. Vanderpoel?”
“Yes, I did. Jim told me some of it. Then, when Juliana came home, she told me more. She seemed to be pretty badly disturbed about it.”
Trixie raised her eyebrows. “She didn’t show any sign of it when she stopped at our house. She hardly listened to anything we said about Janie’s fall.”
“Juliana doesn’t show emotion. Dutch people don’t.” Then Mrs. Vanderpoel added, “Not on the surface, but we feel things deep down. I feel so sorry for that poor little nameless girl, Janie. I feel the same about you Bob-Whites, too. Your plans have had to take second place—your work at the hospital, helping at home, the Turf Show. Juliana is working on some dolls for a booth at the Show.”
“Juliana?” Mart shouted. “Juliana working on a booth? She won’t even be here. At least, I know she hopes she won t be here that long.”
“I know that. She’s pretty sure she won’t be here, but she’s making a lot of dolls—Dutch dolls—for the doll booth. Didn’t any of you girls know it?”
Trixie, sobered and ashamed, shook her head. “We didn’t,” Honey said.
“No, and I’d never have dreamed it,” Diana said. “That’s what she does daytimes, mostly,” Mrs. Vanderpoel told them. “She didn’t tell me anything about what she was doing until yesterday. I thought you knew. I hope she won’t mind my mentioning it now. She must have wanted to surprise you.”
“Heavens!” Trixie said. “Think of it!”
“Every day she goes to work with some woman named Thompson. I don’t know her. I think Juliana may have known her sister in the Bronx. This woman telephones to Juliana often. Her husband has been away, and she has time on her hands. She used to be a seamstress. I’ll show you one of the dolls.”
Mrs. Vanderpoel left the room.
“Boy, if that wasn’t a blockbuster!” Mart said. He saw Jim’s face and added quickly, “Well, did you think she’d make dolls for a booth? Did any of the rest of you think so?”
“See, isn’t she pretty?” Mrs. Vanderpoel held up a little, flaxen-haired doll, it's two yellow braids sticking out from an apple-cheeked rag face.
“She’s darling!” Trixie and Honey said in unison. “I guess we all need to take a second look at Juliana,” Brian said slowly. “We’ve sure jumped to some wrong conclusions, Mrs. Vanderpoel.”
“Maybe so.Maybe not. She puzzles me. I don’t think she’s happy. Maybe it’s that business about the land that’s worrying her, but she’s up in the air one day and down the next. I think it’s probably good for her to work with the dolls.”
“Nights, too?” Jim asked, remembering. “Do they work on those dolls nights, too?”
“I guess they do. One of Mrs. Thompson’s sons —I think—picks her up. He’s been by several nights. I never see him. He just honks his automobile horn for her.”
“Tell her we’re so sorry we didn’t get to see her on our way to talk to the police about those warning signs that were moved. We think someone did it on purpose, and that’s why Janie fell.”
“It doesn’t seem possible anyone could be so cruel. You’re right to try and track down who did it. This is more detective work for you, isn’t it, Trixie?”
“If I can help,” Trixie answered. “Oh, look at the time. It’s almost noon. We’ll see you later, Mrs. Vanderpoel. Be sure and tell Juliana We stopped by, and tell her we think it’s simply super about the dolls. The only other booth we know anything about is the one Moms will have—the plant booth, with seedlings from her garden.”
“Now, what do you think of that?” Trixie asked when they were once more on their way.
“I think we all need our heads examined,” Mart said. “Moms kept telling us, one by one, that we should be more tolerant....”
“Yeah. A fine bunch of Bob-Whites we turned out to be!” Brian said.
“It gives us something to shoot for in the future,” Jim said.
Trixie, deep in thought, said to Honey, “It’s the strangest thing—I wish I could remember where I’ve heard the name Thompson. Maybe Moms will know. Wasn’t that the cutest doll?”
When Jim parked the car in front of the courthouse, Trixie said, “I suppose Sergeant Molinson will be as impatient as he always is.”
“Yeah,” Mart answered. “He thinks you mess up his investigations and get in the way of his men when they’re working on a case.”
“She does get in the way,” Honey said spiritedly. “And a good thing, too. All he has to do is to think back to some of the cases Trixie and I have helped to solve— Shhh... here we are!”
“Good morning, Trixie. Good morning, Honey. Good morning, boys. I’m glad you stopped in. I have some questions to ask you about what happened up there on the cliff yesterday.”
“Did Dad see you this morning?” Jim asked. “Yes. He’s putting some men to work today to fence off that ledge where the girl fell. The erosion there has to be stopped, too. I have a call in for the county engineer right now. Trixie, although I still disapprove of your dangerous methods, you were a real heroine yesterday. If I have the story the way it happened.”
“She was!” Honey said. “Trixie always does things nobody else has nerve enough to do.”
“You’re telling me!” the sergeant said.
“She finishes them, too,” Honey said. “Sergeant Molinson, who do you think took those warning signs away from that place? Who is trying to injure Janie?”
“Wait just a minute, young lady. Those warning signs having been removed doesn’t necessarily mean that someone wanted the girl to fall over the cliff, does it?”
“What other possible reason?” Trixie asked. “Maybe the county engineer’s department was making some kind of a survey before undertaking anti-erosion work there. The signs may have been in their way.”
“So they threw them over the cliff?” Trixie asked. “That doesn’t wash.”
“How do you know anyone threw them over the cliff?” the police sergeant asked.
“Because,” Jim said, “we found them down below, smashed. We think someone moved them on purpose.”
“Yes, we do,” Trixie agreed. “And if you’ll give me a chance, I’ll tell you about a lot of other odd things that have been happening. Some strange man was hanging around the surveyors. Some strange man put our station wagon out of commission in the Bronx. Some strange man was parked near our house the night—”
“What on earth does that have to do with the young girl Janie?” Sergeant Molinson said, smiling indulgently and sending a crimson flush to Trixie’s cheeks.
“There is some connection someplace. An important police officer like you should find it. You just get me all confused. Anyway, with all the experts working on the case, nobody yet has been able to find out what or who hit Janie and left her unconscious.”
“These things aren’t accomplished in a day, Trixie. We have to have time.”
“And nobody has the slightest notion what her name is, where she came from, or who her family is,” Trixie went on. “It’s awfully hard on Janie not to know.” Trixie’s voice saddened, remembering Janie’s bewilderment.
“That, too, takes time, Trixie.”
“In the meantime, some terrible thing is going to happen to her. I know someone is trying to harm her. They’ve tried twice—once when they left her unconscious on Glen Road, when she lost her memory, and yesterday, when she fell. Who knows? Maybe the next time they’ll succeed. Isn’t there something someone can do?”
“Trixie, we don’t just sit here and twiddle our thumbs.”
“I m sorry.“
“Sit down here, now, all of you. Tell me exactly what happened yesterday. Begin at the first, when you missed Janie. Tell me in detail. You start, Trixie.”
Trixie started. When she came to the place where she went over the cliff, Jim took over.
The sergeant listened intently. He asked questions at intervals, then sat back and listened again, glancing from time to time at Trixie.
“Then we pulled Trixie back, as slowly as we possibly could. We were scared to death that edge would give way with her. But it didn’t!” Jim finished triumphantly.
Sergeant Molinson said sternly, “Trixie, I’m wasting my breath, but I’m strongly advising you to be careful, to leave perilous adventures such as yesterday’s to people whose job it is to do them.”
“I was right there,” Trixie said. “It had to be done then.”
Sergeant Molinson threw up his hands. “I give up. At least three people have been to see the mayor today about a medal for bravery for you, Trixie.” Trixie gasped.
“She deserves it,” the sergeant told the other Bob-Whites. “I'll have to admit she gets in my hair; nevertheless, I could name some of my men who could use a little of Detective Belden s perseverance and inquisitive turn of mind. Remember this, Trixie,” he continued, “we re doing everything in our power to investigate every facet of Janie’s case. It’s a matter of the greatest concern to my department.”
“I know it is,” Trixie said. “Thank you, Sergeant Molinson.”
Spider Kicks Up a Clue • 15
JEEPERS!” Trixie said as they left the sergeant’s office. “Did you hear what he called me? ‘Detective Belden.’ This must be his “be kind to people day.’ It’s the first time I’ve ever left his office without being shushed out. Oh-oh... here it comes now.” Sergeant Molinson opened his door and called down the hall. “Jim!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Will you, to save us all from going crazy, see if you can keep that cousin of yours from haunting this courthouse? She’s here when we open in the morning and here when we close. She’s driving the recorder of deeds nuts.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll try... I mean... well, we’ll try.”
“I see what you mean.”
“His 'kind to people day’ didn’t last long, did it, Trix?” Jim asked. “How can Juliana haunt the courthouse, when she’s busy every day sewing on those dolls?”
“She probably does ask every morning,” Trixie answered. “They’ve told her they’ll let her know as soon as the papers arrive. Why do you suppose she’s in such a frantic rush?”
Mar
t shrugged his shoulders. “Search me! It could be she doesn’t like this little hick town’ of Sleepyside.”
“Could be.” Brian agreed. “What now?”
“How about hamburgers down at Wimpy’s?” Jim suggested.
“That’s an idea!” Mart seconded. “It seems as though we never have time for Wimpy’s anymore— not since school closed, anyway. Remember the old days, when we’d run into Spider Webster?”
“Oh, yes!” Trixie cried. “I wish Spider were on the police force here now. I suppose he did want to take a job with more money, and that’s why he went to White Plains. We never see him anymore.”
“Speak of the devil!” Mart cried. “Do you see who’s right inside that window? Spider! Hi!” he called, waving.
Eagerly the Bob-Whites crowded through the door. Spider, grinning from ear to ear, shook hands with each one as they came through. “Say, this is great!” he said. “It’s like old times. Every time I used to have a lunch break, I’d run into one or more of you kids here. Let’s line up at the counter again, huh?”
“Our treat!” Jim said. Then he called out, “Mike, hamburgers, french fries, and malts for all of us. Say, Spider, how have you been? Where’s Tad?”
“My brother is working at a summer camp upstate in the woods. Say, I never have stopped being grateful to you Bob-Whites for the way you helped me straighten Tad out.”
“Don’t say a word about it,” Brian said. “Mrs. Vanderpoel misses both of you a lot.”
“And do we ever miss her cooking! Boy! I hear she has some dame staying with her now—the one who inherited that strip of marsh where they’re going to build the factory.” He whistled. “Nice little sum of money she’ll get for that... one hundred and fifty thousand dollars!”
“How come you know all about that, when you re never in Sleepyside anymore?” Jim asked. She's my cousin, you know.”
“I know that, too. I was in Molinson’s office on business this morning, and she had just been in the recorder’s office inquiring about something. You know Molinson; he doesn’t like dames too well, huh, Trixie?”
The Mystery of the Missing Heiress Page 12
