The Mystery of the Hichcocke Inheritance

by Mark Zahn

  The hidden passageway was small and narrow at first, but then widened after a few feet so that the boys could nearly stand upright. There were no lights, so they groped along by the light shining in from the little doorway.

  “There’s steps here,” Jupiter reported. “This passageway must lead up to the second floor somewhere.”

  Just then there was a loud bang from behind them, and the boys were enveloped in complete darkness.

  “Someone has shut the door!” Ben cried out in alarm.

  “Quick, back the way we came!” Pete ordered.

  They scrambled back to the tiny door, but soon found it was locked tight from the outside.

  “Something’s been wedged in the door – it won’t budge,” said Bob. “We’re trapped!”

  Trapped!

  HEY! LET US out!” Pete Crenshaw yelled.

  “Shhh! Quiet!” hissed Jupe. “Listen...I can hear footsteps in the office.”

  The boys held their breath. Faintly, they picked up the sound of footsteps slowly receding down the long hallway.

  “Did you hear how those footsteps sounded?” asked Jupiter, thinking out loud.

  “What do you mean?” whispered Pete in the inky darkness. “They just sounded like ordinary footsteps to me.”

  “No,” Jupiter insisted, “there was something strange about them. It almost sounded like one was louder than the other.”

  Bob and Pete knew better than to argue with Jupiter Jones when it came to matters of memory – Jupiter’s mind was nearly photographic, and he seldom forgot even the slightest of details.

  “That’s right,” said Ben. “It almost sounded like someone was walking with a limp.”

  “Or a cane!” said Bob.

  “Jehosaphat!” exclaimed Pete. “It was Jebediah that locked us in!”

  “Or someone wanting us to think it was Jebediah,” corrected Jupiter. In the darkness, the First Investigator’s mind raced. “Ben, how exactly did Jebediah get that limp?”

  Ben thought for a moment. “I believe Aunt Patty said he got it in an automobile accident many years ago. I guess his leg was pretty cracked up. Why do you ask, Jupiter?”

  “Because even though Jebediah uses a cane, he still walks fairly quickly. Whoever locked us in here walked away very slowly – almost so we were sure to hear. I’m not entirely convinced that was Jebediah at all!”

  “But why would someone pretend to be Cousin Jeb?” asked Ben.

  “Most likely to throw suspicion on him,” Jupiter explained, “as well as to misdirect our investigation.”

  “I vote we discuss this later,” said Pete impatiently. “I’ll feel much better when I can see my hand in front of my face.”

  “I agree with Pete,” said Bob. “The sooner we get out of here the better.”

  “Okay,” Jupiter relented. “There’s probably some kind of mechanism that opens the door from this side, let’s try that first.”

  Bob ran his hands over the smooth surface of the door. “I don’t feel anything but the door handle,” he said in a jittery voice. “There might be a mechanism, but we’ll never find it in the dark. Let’s head up the stairs and try the door on that end.”

  “All right,” said the First Investigator. “Hold on to each other’s belt-loops – just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?” Pete asked nervously.

  With Jupiter in the lead, the boys carefully ascended the steep staircase. After about twenty steps, the floor leveled out and the ceiling once again became low. Crouching, the four boys approached the secret door at the other end.

  “The door’s jammed on this end, too,” Jupiter said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “But I can see light through the cracks in the frame. Perhaps two of us pushing together can force it open.”

  “I’ll help,” said Ben. “Let’s give it a shove on the count of three.”

  “On three,” Jupiter repeated. “Ready – one, two, three!”

  Together the boys heaved their shoulders into the small door. There was the sound of splintering wood on the other side and then a rush of fresh air as light filled the passageway. Jupiter and Ben went tumbling to the floor.

  “You did it!” Pete and Bob yelled together.

  The boys crawled out of the small secret passageway and gazed around them.

  The room they were in looked like it was part movie theater, part museum. Props from several of Alphred Hichcocke’s most famous movies filled the room, while at the far end an enormous movie screen covered an entire wall. Row after row of plush theater seats filled the center of the grand room. Velvet ropes hung on brass poles, just like in a real movie theater.

  “This is my grandfather’s projection room!” exclaimed Ben. “Aunt Patty had told me about it, but I’ve never actually been inside. The door has always been locked.”

  Jupe, who prided himself with his deep knowledge of movies and the theater, gaped at all the props and memorabilia that lined the room. “Look at this!” he said. “It’s a scale model of Mount Rushmore used in East By Northeast! And over here is a mechanical crow used in The Crows! And this jukebox is from Diabolical”

  “What’s this?” asked Pete, holding up a wine bottle filled with some sort of sand.

  “That’s a prop from the movie The Notorious, said Ben with awe. “In the movie the black sand is supposed to be Uranium. It’s a keen picture!”

  Bob had gone to the far side of the room to investigate a shower curtain and a set of knives when something on the floor caught his eye.

  “Uh, Ben...” he said.

  “Yes, Bob, what did you find over there?”

  “Did you say this room was always locked?”

  “Always,” declared Ben. “Why do you ask?”

  Bob gulped and pointed at what had caught his attention. Several shards of splintered wood lay at his feet on the floor. “Someone has beaten us again,” he said.

  Jupiter ran over and examined the door. It was shut, but not locked. “The door has been pried open – most likely with a crowbar,” the stocky boy reported. “Someone needed to gain access to this room in a hurry. Probably after they locked us in that secret passage!”

  “That means they could have already found the treasure by now!” cried Ben.

  “Not unless they’ve solved the last part of the riddle,” declared Jupiter. “Bob, let’s see your notebook again.”

  Once more the boys read the message.

  ***

  “Article 33: Skip the H20 and within my estate you’ll find the Crate that leads you to the paddy wagon. Follow the clues and pay your dues and the 2nd of 55 will reward you.”

  ***

  “Creighton Duke pointed to the picture of your Aunt Patricia,” said Jupiter, thinking out loud. “And that photograph led us up here to Mr. Hichcocke’s private screening room. Now the puzzle says to ‘follow the clues and pay your dues and the second of fifty-five will reward you.’”

  “Well, we’ve certainly followed the clues,” said Pete. “But what could ‘pay your dues’ mean?”

  “Maybe like some kind of membership fee,” thought Ben. “Like you have to pay your dues to stay in the club. What of it, Jupiter?”

  Jupiter was standing quietly, pulling at his bottom lip in deep concentration. His eyes darted about the room, trying to make the connection between the riddle and the movie props. But it was Bob that finally hit upon it.

  “Good grief!” he cried. “I think I’ve got it!” The small Investigator moved back to the small secret door in the wall and crawled inside. He shut the door and opened it again as the others tried to figure out his method.

  “I’m not sure I understand, Records,” said Jupiter with a frown.

  “What’s the first thing I see when I open the secret door?” he asked them. “The jukebox! What do you do with a jukebox?”

  “You pay it money to make it play!” cried Ben. “That’s how you ‘pay your dues!’”

  Jupiter Jones looked somewhat annoyed that he hadn’t figure
d out that part of the puzzle for himself, but he grudgingly congratulated Bob.

  “An excellent deduction, Records,” he said.

  Bob’s face nearly glowed with Jupe’s praise. It wasn’t very often the First Investigator acknowledged that someone beat him to a clue.

  “The second of fifty-five must have something to do with the jukebox, then,” said Pete. “Mr. Hichcocke must have meant that either the second line or second verse of song number fifty-five is the key to the next clue!”

  Jupiter quickly plugged in the machine and punched in number fifty-five on the display. The boys listened eagerly for the song to begin.

  Nothing happened.

  “Something’s not right here,” said Jupiter. He punched in fifty-five again and waited.

  “Why isn’t it playing?” demanded Pete.

  Jupiter kneeled down and examined the machine. His fingers found the small catch that opened up the front of the jukebox. He undid the metal mechanism and raised the lid, revealing row after row of antique black records.

  “Just what I was afraid of,” said Jupiter grimly. “Number fifty-five is missing!”

  Hidden Treasures

  “HOW ARE WE going to find out what the second of fifty-five is with the record gone?” Pete asked in dismay.

  The four boys stood around the jukebox in Alphred Hichcocke’s private projection room, looking in disbelief at the empty record slot.

  “It looks like we’ve been beaten, chaps,” Ben said sadly, lowering the lid of the jukebox. “It was a good effort, though. You really are top-notch investigators to have gotten this far. You’re to be commended.”

  Any ordinary person might have given up on the case just then. But Jupiter Jones was far from an ordinary person. He scowled furiously at the jukebox, sure that there was something he was overlooking. Something obvious. When it finally struck him, he couldn’t help but crack a smug grin.

  “From the look on Jupe’s face,” said Bob, noticing Jupiter’s cunning smile, “I’d say that The Three Investigators aren’t beaten quite yet!”

  “You’ve found something, Jupiter?” asked Ben hopefully.

  “The criminal was not as clever as they thought,” Jupiter declared. “He pilfered the record – but failed to take into account the manner in which a jukebox is utilized.”

  “In English, First,” complained Pete.

  The chubby First Investigator ran his hand along the smooth glass surface of the jukebox, as if the clue should be as obvious to Pete and Bob as it was to him. When they only stood there blankly, he sighed. “The thief had to lift the cover of the jukebox to get at the record,” explained Jupiter patiently. “When he did so, he forgot that the glass cover also holds the playlist of every song – and the number it corresponds to!”

  “Sure!” said Bob. Clues usually seemed fairly obvious once Jupiter pointed them out. “Without the playlist, you’d be only guessing which song you were playing. Song number fifty-five is right there on the playlist!” The slender, bespectacled youth ran his finger down the list until he found number fifty-five. “Here it is!” he cried. Hidden Treasures by a musical group called ‘Denny Lynds & The Gail Force Winds.’

  “We’ve got to find a copy of that record!” Jupiter ordered. “And as quickly as possible!”

  “Ben, do you know of any record stores around here where we might find that song?” asked Pete.

  The British boy thought for a moment. “The nearest one is in Piccadilly Circus,” he said finally. “We can take my car into the city!”

  Pete looked excited. “At last we’ll get to see some of the sights!”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Jupiter, shaking his head. “You and Bob should stay here.”

  “Why do you get to have all the fun?” Pete asked, only half serious.

  “Because someone needs to keep an eye on Jebediah and the Fitchhorns,” Jupiter explained. “Someone has beaten us to every clue – but we can’t be very far behind or they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of locking us in that secret passage.”

  “Jupe’s right,” Bob agreed. “But let’s all leave together. Then, once we’ve gotten far enough down the lane, Pete and I can sneak back and watch the house. Maybe the thief will make a move while he thinks we’re away.”

  “A good idea, Records,” said Jupiter. “Let’s make a production out of the fact that we’re going into town to see the sights and won’t be back for hours.”

  The boys left the projection room and marched loudly downstairs, where they were met by Ben’s Aunt Patricia.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you boys!” she said. “Any luck with the puzzle?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Jupiter said loudly, giving Patricia a knowing wink. “We’ve hit a dead end, so we’ve decided to go into London to see some of the tourist attractions.”

  Alphred Hichcocke’s daughter understood immediately and returned Jupiter’s wink. “Gosh, that’s too bad,” she said. “Well, maybe some fresh air will clear your head and you’ll be able to make some progress on father’s riddle later.”

  The boys put on their jackets and headed out the door. “We’re taking my car, Aunt Patty,” Ben called loudly over his shoulder. “We’ll try to be back before dinner!”

  “Have a good time, boys!” she shouted after them. “And mind the traffic, Benjamin!”

  Ben’s automobile was a sleek convertible with four seats. Pete whistled as he ran his finger along the glistening hood.

  “Are you sure Bob and I can’t come along,” he begged.

  Jupiter grinned at his friend. “I’m afraid not. But I promise Ben and I will have enough fun for the both of you.”

  “Very funny!” said Pete, rolling his eyes.

  “Try to remember that you’re on a case!” added Bob as they climbed into the sportster.

  The car roared to life and the boys strapped on their safety belts. “Here we go!” announced Ben.

  With a spray of gravel, the fine automobile zipped down the long drive. When they had gotten well out of sight of Hichcocke Manor, Ben eased the car to the side of the road and parked.

  “There’s a horse trail through the woods over there that hunter’s use during fox season,” he instructed Bob and Pete as they climbed out from the back seat of the car. “Stay to the right and it will lead you to the back of the house. From there you can use the Abernathy’s servant entrance to sneak back inside.”

  “One of you keep an eye on Jebediah while the other watches the Fitchhorns,” advised Jupiter. “And be careful,” he added.

  “And you fellows try not to have too much fun,” said Pete dryly.

  With that the streamlined auto sped off, leaving the two investigators by the side of the road.

  “Being First Investigator sure has its perks,” complained Pete.

  Bob smiled at his friend and clapped him on the back. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get hiking.”

  All was quiet at the house by the time Bob and Pete returned. They carefully surveyed the back yard to make sure the coast was clear.

  Pete hissed, “Look!”

  Jebediah O’Connell was lurking about the grounds of the estate, poking his cane at some garden stones and looking beneath them. The man with the wooly mustache and crumpled tweed hat put his hand on a crumbling sundial and bent down to examine something on the ground.

  “I wonder what he’s looking for?” whispered Bob.

  “Why don’t you stay and find out,” said Pete. “I’ll go find the Fitchhorns.”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard,” Bob grinned. “Just follow the sound of fighting!”

  “Thanks for the tip,” said Pete under his breath. “I’ll see you later.” The Second Investigator waited until Jebediah’s back was turned and then sprinted toward the servant’s entrance at the back of the house.

  Bob watched as his friend slipped inside, and then made himself comfortable behind a fallen tree, watching and waiting to see what the cantankerous Jebediah O’Connell would do next.
/>   Inside the house, Pete moved like a shadow. He darted from room to room, every once in awhile stopping to listen. The house seemed too quiet. He was beginning to wonder if the Fitchhorns had left for the day when the sound of a door squeaking on its hinges made him catch his breath, and his skin to break out in gooseflesh.

  Pete decided the sound had come from the pantry, the small room just off from the kitchen that was used to store dry goods and canned food. He tip-toed over to the kitchen and stole a quick glance around the corner.

  The door to the cellar was open!

  He bit his lip and looked around. Where was Bob when he needed him? The muscular boy hesitated for a moment, and then snuck over to the door and listened again. He thought he heard someone moving around down there, but he couldn’t be sure. Taking a deep breath, Pete crept down the cool stone steps. The musty smell of dampness and age oozed up at him, making him wrinkle his nose.

  A single light bulb burned at the foot of the stairs, but the rest of the cavernous cellar was engulfed in deep shadows that made Pete’s flesh crawl. Pipes of all sizes ran like a crazy maze across the ceiling, and old stones and plaster crumbled from the ancient walls. He was considering going back and getting Bob when another sound like a creaking door made him stop in his tracks.

  Someone was down there!

  Pete Crenshaw summed up all his courage and forced himself to navigate through the dusty shelves that housed jars of pickled food and the countless wine bottles of Hichcocke Manor. A wooden door, grey with age, stood open at the far end of the menacing cellar. He gulped and cautiously approached it on the balls of his feet.

  A cobweb brushed against his face and he nearly let out a startled cry. The tall boy then heard a clicking noise and realized it was the sound of his own teeth chattering in his head. He clenched his jaws together and tried to think how Jupiter Jones would act in this situation.

  Pete hesitated before the open door, stopping again to listen. A leaky faucet dripped somewhere in the darkness. Squinting his eyes into the murky shadows, he slowly crept through the doorway. He could just barely make out three steps which descended into the small room. He stood on the top step and waited – the only sound he heard was the blood rushing in his own ears.