A few moments later the girls parted, having made plans to meet on the path after dark.
Terror! ● 13
THAT NIGHT, Trixie waited at the meeting place for several minutes before Honey appeared. She was beginning to wonder if her friend had been unable to leave the house when she heard the Bob-White whistle—bob, bob-white—that Jim had taught them.
Trixie whistled back, and soon Honey was at her side. “I’d almost given up,” whispered Trixie.
“Mother and Daddy were talking in the library. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get past them, so I waited,” Honey told her.
“Did they hear you leave?” Trixie asked.
Honey shook her head. “I finally went downstairs, thinking I could just say I was getting a glass of milk, and I saw that the library doors were closed. No sound can get through them.” Trixie nodded, remembering the heavy wooden doors to the library at the Manor House.
“What do we do now?” Honey asked.
“We’ll just walk down the path until we come to the ravine where John Score’s car is hidden,” Trixie said. “Go slowly and keep your eyes open. We don’t want to run into him accidentally, as we did the other day.”
The girls walked on without speaking, trying not to make any noise. Once or twice they tripped over tree roots growing in the path, and Trixie wished silently that she’d remembered to bring a flashlight.
The girls were almost to the ravine when they heard the sound of a car coming toward them. They looked at each other in surprise—the woods were usually deserted at this time of night.
“I bet it’s him,” Trixie whispered. “He may already have planted the ducks and be coming back. Hide!”
The girls darted off the path and hid themselves behind some bushes. They strained their eyes in the darkness, expecting to see John Score’s battered green car.
What they saw instead was a shiny new car with New York State license plates. As the car passed them, Trixie recognized the driver. “It’s David Maypenny!” she exclaimed. She ran out into the road and waved her arms.
The car slowed, then stopped. Trixie ran up alongside it, with Honey following close behind her. Trixie stuck her head through the open window on the passenger’s side of the car. “Hello!” she said, then drew her head back involuntarily as a strange smell struck her. “Whew!” she said. “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” David Maypenny snapped. “I mean, there’s nothing in here now. I—I forgot a sandwich on the backseat for a couple of days.“
“Oh,” Trixie said.
“We’re really glad to see you,” Honey told David. “We tried to call you the other day, but there was no answer.”
“You called me? Where?” David Maypenny had turned snappish again.
“In New York City,” Honey told him. “We got your number from directory assistance.”
“Of course,” David said, trying to sound jovial but not quite succeeding.
I wonder what he’s so nervous about, Trixie thought. Aloud she said, “Mr. Maypenny is in a lot of trouble because of this International Pine issue. We thought you should be here with him. That’s why we’re glad to see you—because you obviously had the same idea.”
“That’s it, of course,” David said. “I thought I should come and have another try at making peace with my uncle. There’s no point in letting one little disagreement come between us, now, is there?”
As David spoke, Trixie found herself wondering again about the strange smell in his car. The smell of a spoiled sandwich wouldn’t linger so strongly after it had been thrown out. She peered through the darkness into the backseat. There was a burlap bag tied with rope and filled with something lumpy.
“What are you looking at?” David Maypenny barked.
Trixie looked up so fast that she bumped her head on the top of the window. Suddenly she realized what was happening, as if the jolt had caused all the pieces to fall into place: the funny smell, the burlap bag, David Maypenny’s appearance in the woods late at night....
“Ducks!” she said. “You have ducks in that bag. You killed them with botulism, and now you’re here to plant them!”
David Maypenny’s eyes filled with rage, and Trixie knew for certain that she was right. She saw him reach for the door handle.
“Run, Honey!” Trixie shouted, giving her friend a shove as David Maypenny got out of the car. Trixie started down the path full speed. Then she heard a crashing noise and realized that Honey hadn’t followed her. She’d taken off through the woods instead. Trixie stopped and looked over her shoulder. David Maypenny was standing beside his car. He looked at Trixie, who was already several yards down the path, and then he looked in the direction Honey had taken. Finally, he charged into the woods.
Trixie froze for a moment, wondering what to do. She didn’t want to leave Honey alone, with David Maypenny chasing her, but she knew that the two of them against a grown man would not be an even contest, either.
Then another thought struck her, and she took off full speed down the path, running toward the ravine.
When she reached it, she scrambled down the bank. “Please be there,” she breathed, running toward John Score’s tent.
John Score was sound asleep in his sleeping bag outside the tent. Trixie knelt beside him and shook him. “Wake up, please!” she shouted. “Help!”
John Score sat bolt upright and blinked at Trixie. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
Out of breath from running, Trixie could only gasp, “The ducks— The man— He has Honey!”
John Score seemed to understand immediately. “Where?” he asked.
Trixie pointed down the path.
He threw back the sleeping bag and stood up, revealing the same ragged jeans he had been wearing the first time Trixie saw him.
He ran to the car, with Trixie following behind him. He got in behind the wheel and Trixie collapsed on the passenger’s side.
John Score turned the ignition key, put the car in reverse, and floored the accelerator. With a roar, the car lurched up the bank to the path, scattering camouflage branches in its wake.
Throwing the car into forward gear, Score took off down the path. In seconds, they reached David Maypenny’s car. Trixie, still gasping for breath, was stunned. It had seemed to her that she’d run miles to get to the ravine. Actually it had been only a few hundred yards.
John Score stepped on the brakes, and the car skidded to a halt. He slammed the car into park. “Which way?” he demanded.
Trixie pointed to the side of the road where Honey and David Maypenny had disappeared. John Score, followed closely by Trixie, got out of the car and started toward the spot. Then he stopped, hearing noises coming toward them from the woods.
Trixie watched in horror as David Maypenny reappeared. He was holding a kicking and struggling Honey tightly by one of her slender arms.
David Maypenny glanced up from the struggle and saw John Score watching him. For a moment, he too stood motionless.
For a few seconds that seemed like hours, everything was still. John Score and David Maypenny stared at each other. Trixie watched breathlessly. Even Honey stopped struggling and waited for something to happen.
Finally, John Score took a step forward. David Maypenny looked from him to Honey, then shoved the girl away from him and disappeared back into the woods. John Score ran after him.
Trixie hurried to Honey’s side. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Honey nodded silently, her breath coming in tortured gasps.
Without thinking, Trixie turned and started to run. She ran back down the path toward home. Her frenzied mind couldn’t form a plan. She only knew that she had to find help somewhere, somehow.
Again it seemed as though she had run for miles, and she wondered how long she could keep going. Then she saw the headlights of a car. She stopped in the middle of the road and waved her arms over her head to stop it. She felt a twinge of fear, wondering if the car were being driven by an accomplice of Da
vid Maypenny’s, but she was too tired to care. She only knew she couldn’t run any farther.
As the car stopped, Trixie was dimly aware that it was black and white. Police! she thought happily. The door on the passenger’s side opened and strong arms pulled her inside. The car started up again immediately, speeding down the path to the place where Honey was waiting.
Trixie looked up at the person sitting next to her. “Jim!” she exclaimed. “How did you—”
“I’ll explain that later,” Jim said. “Is Honey all right?”
Trixie nodded, then gulped. Honey was all right, but it was no thanks to Trixie. Now that the danger was almost past, Trixie realized, as she always did, what a close escape she’d had.
The police car, with Sergeant Molinson at the wheel, pulled up behind David Maypenny’s car just as John Score was hauling the culprit out of the woods.
“Let go of that man!” Sergeant Molinson ordered.
Trixie ran to the policeman. “No, no!” she shouted. “You don’t understand! It’s the other one! Arrest him!”
Sergeant Molinson stared at Trixie in amazement. Then he looked back at John Score and David Maypenny. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” he said, “but we’re going to find out back at the station. You’re both under arrest.” Another squad car had pulled up behind Molinson’s, and as the two policemen got out, the sergeant motioned them toward Score and Maypenny.
“No—” Trixie protested.
Sergeant Molinson turned on her. “You be at the station at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll listen to your story then. From past experience, I’d say it will be a very entertaining one. But if you say one more word tonight, I’ll arrest you, too!”
Trixie could tell Sergeant Molinson was angry enough to carry out his threat. She looked helplessly at John Score. To her surprise, he was grinning broadly. He could take care of himself, she realized. At least he wouldn’t be in real trouble once the whole story came out.
Then she looked at David Maypenny. He was in real trouble, and he looked as if he knew it. Sergeant Molinson’s men were putting handcuffs on him, and he put up no resistance. He looks almost as if he's going to cry, Trixie thought.
Honey had run over to the police car, where she was hugged by Jim—and, Trixie saw with surprise, by Mart and Brian. They must have been in the backseat all along, Trixie'thought. In the excitement, she hadn’t even noticed.
“You have some explaining to do, as usual,” Brian told her sternly.
Trixie looked at the ground. “I know,” she said. “Daddy will be furious. So will Moms. I don’t think Sergeant Molinson is very happy with me, either.”
“Oh, Trixie, that isn’t the worst part,” Honey wailed.
Trixie looked up. Honey’s blond hair was a tangled mess, with twigs and leaves still stuck in it from her race through the woods. Her face was dirtier than Trixie had ever seen it, and tears were coursing down through the dirt, leaving streaks.
“What is it, Honey?” Trixie asked.
“S-Somebody has to tell Mr. Maypenny that his nephew is a criminal!” Honey sobbed.
At the Police Station ● 14
TRIXIE TURNED PALE. “Oh, woe,” she moaned. “I thought everything was taken care of, just because we found out who’s been poisoning the ducks. I didn’t think about Mr. Maypenny. How can we break the news to him?”
“There’s only one piece of news you’ll be breaking yet tonight,” Sergeant Molinson said. “That’s the news that you’re safe and sound, which your parents are waiting to hear. There’s time enough to deal with the rest of it in the morning.”
The sergeant herded the Bob-Whites into his car while his men took John Score and David Maypenny off to the police station.
“How did you find us?” Trixie asked as they started off on the path toward home.
“You found us, remember?” Jim teased.
“Oh, Jim, you know what she means,” Honey said, too exhausted to be tactful. “Why were you boys riding down this path with Sergeant Molinson in the first place?”
“I was in my room studying, and I started thinking about the way you girls had acted at the boathouse when I told you those ducks had been planted,” Jim explained. “I had a feeling you knew more than you were telling. I went to your room, Honey, to ask you about it, and you weren’t there. I looked all over the house, then I called the Beldens—”
“That’s when we discovered that Trixie was missing, as well,” Brian supplied.
“Based on your previously exhibited penchant for misadventure, we surmised it was time to phone the constabulary,” Mart added.
“Since it was your reaction to the news about the ducks that had made me suspicious in the first place, the preserve seemed like the logical place to start looking,” Jim said.
“I doubt that we’d have got to you in time if you hadn’t come running down the path,” Brian said soberly.
“What do you suppose—” Trixie stopped short. She wanted to ask what David Maypenny would have done to them if Sergeant Molinson— and John Score—hadn’t been around, but she decided it would be better if Honey didn’t know.
“What were you going to say, Trix?” Jim asked.
Trixie yawned broadly. “Never mind,” she replied sleepily.
Back home, Trixie let Brian and Mart give their parents the story of the night’s happenings. When they were finished, her father turned to her, a stern expression on his face. Trixie was too tired to dread the coming lecture, however. Seeing her drooping eyelids, Peter Belden sighed. “You’d better get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll discuss this further tomorrow morning.”
Trixie nodded silently and half-stumbled up the stairs to her room. Moments later, as she was drifting off to sleep, she felt a twinge of sadness as she remembered that though her ordeal was over, Mr. Maypenny’s worst moment was yet to come.
The next morning, Brian, Mart, and Trixie drove to the Manor House in Brian’s jalopy to pick up Honey and Jim. Honey came out of the house alone.
“Jim isn’t coming with us,” Honey said with a frown as she settled into the backseat next to Trixie. “He was very mysterious about where he was going. All he would say was that he had more important things to do than listen to us being scolded by Sergeant Molinson for the umpteenth time.”
“I don’t think that’s very mysterious,” Trixie said ruefully. “I’d miss the scolding, too, if I could.”
When the four Bob-Whites entered Sergeant Molinson’s office, they found it already crowded with people. Looking around, Trixie saw the sergeant, John Score, Mr. Maypenny, Dan Mangan, and a man she didn’t know.
Mr. Maypenny smiled at Honey and Trixie. Oh, woe, Trixie thought. He still doesn’t know about his nephew. I wish I didn’t have to be around when he finds out.
“Good morning,” Sergeant Molinson said cheerfully. “I hope you had a good night’s rest. Now, if you’ll be seated, I will fill you in on the story behind what happened last night.”
Trixie looked at the policeman suspiciously, wondering why he seemed so glad to see them— and why he was offering information instead of his usual warning not to get involved in police business.
“First of all,” the sergeant said, gesturing toward 202
the stranger in the room, “I’d like you to meet David Maypenny.”
“Wh-What?” Trixie stammered, looking from the sergeant to the stranger to Mr. Maypenny,' who was still smiling happily.
“That’s right,” Molinson said. “This is Mr. Maypenny’s real nephew.”
“Then who is—” Trixie gestured vaguely, not knowing what to call this man she had thought of as “David Maypenny.”
“He’s an imposter,” Sergeant Molinson said. “His real name is Lawrence Howard, and he’s wanted for fraud in five states.”
“Ahhh,” Trixie breathed. Suddenly she realized why Sergeant Molinson was so cheerful this morning. Capturing a man who was wanted in five states would make any policeman happy.
“Wh-What did
he do in all those states?” Honey asked fearfully.
“He’s never been charged with a violent crime,” the sergeant told her reassuringly. “But the crimes he’s committed are about as low as they can get. It’s the same scheme he tried to pull here in Sleepyside.
“He preyed on lonely old people with no families. He’d get some information about them, then pose as a long-lost relative. He’d convince them that they should turn over their property and money to him, so that he could take care of them in case of an emergency. Then he’d vanish, leaving them broke.”
“That’s horrible!” Honey breathed.
Sergeant Molinson nodded. “It is that,” he said. “Fortunately, he stashed most of his money away—maybe he wanted security for his own old age—so we’ll be able to return some of it to his victims.”
“None of what you’ve said explains why Howard planted those poisoned ducks,” Brian pointed out.
Molinson nodded. “You’re right. That wasn’t part of his usual pattern. But most of his con jobs were nickel and dime stuff compared to the money he stood to make by selling Mr. Maypenny’s land to International Pine. Apparently, when his usual soft sell didn’t work, his greed made him desperate enough to do something a little more dramatic.”
There was silence in the office for a moment as everyone put the pieces of the puzzle together in their minds.
“I still have two questions,” Trixie said. “How did David—I mean, Lawrence Howard—know about Mr. Maypenny? And where did he get the botulism toxin?”
“I can answer both of those questions.” The real David Maypenny spoke for the first time, and everyone turned to look at him.
“I’m a medical technician at a laboratory in New York City. Lawrence Howard worked there until about two months ago. I guess that’s how he kept going between his little schemes.
“We were friendly for a while when he first started working there. We used to go out to dinner from time to time. He asked me a lot of questions about myself and my family, and I told him about my uncle.
The Mystery at Maypenny's Page 12
