by Mark Zahn
“Huh?” said Pete. But before he could say any more, the lanky Second Investigator felt his ankle receive a sharp kick from Jupiter under the table. “Oh...Oh, yeah, I do that sometimes,” he said lamely.
“Aye,” said Jebediah, brushing crumbs from his wiry mustache, “don’t be so sure, laddies. Old Molly is a clever spirit.” He pointed his cane at Jupiter. “You won’t want to be a-sneakin’ around the house after dark – I’m warning ye now!”
“Well I don’t know about Pete,” offered Patricia, “but I slept like a bear for the first time in days!”
“Well, Ben,” Jupiter said sadly, “it hardly matters now. I guess we came all the way over here for nothing. We can’t crack the last code from the jukebox. I guess we’ll just have to do some sightseeing and take some pictures. It’s too bad Bob is feeling ill and won’t be able to join us.”
This time Bob received a kick under the table. He cleared his throat and tried to look sickly. “Uh, yeah. I must have caught a chill,” he coughed. “I guess I’ll have to stay behind.”
Patricia looked concerned. “You’d better rest up, Bob. Tomorrow is your last full day here, and you don’t want to be sick on the plane ride back to the states – that would be just dreadful.”
Across the table, Timothy Fitchhorn choked on his eggs and quickly stood up, spilling his cup of coffee all over the morning newspaper.
“Oh drat!” he fumed. “I’ve made an awful mess here. Winston, be of some use for once and help me clean this up!”
“Of course, sir,” the butler said patiently.
Pete and Bob watched the fat man and the butler with amusement, but when Bob turned to look at Jupiter, he saw him staring intently. Jupe turned to him and quickly darted his eyes, nodding toward the newspaper. Bob understood immediately and silently nodded back.
“I think I’ll go rest in bed,” the smallest of the boys said, rising from his chair and patting Pete on the shoulder. “That was very nice of you, Pete, volunteering to keep me company.”
“Sure,” Pete replied, somewhat baffled, “it’s the least I can do, old buddy.”
The two Investigators excused themselves from the table and headed upstairs.
Meanwhile, Jupiter had prepared his flash camera. He quickly snapped a picture of Winston and Timothy Fitchhorn, who were too engrossed in cleaning up the mess to notice. Next he turned to Patricia and snapped a picture of her. She held her hand up before he face and laughed.
“Jupiter Jones! I don’t even have my make-up on yet!”
“That’s okay,” he smiled, advancing the film, “I just need to use up the rest of this role so I can have a fresh one when Ben and I go sightseeing.” He turned and snapped a picture of Ben, who made a silly face into the camera.
“Beautiful!” cried Jupiter. He advanced the film and snapped one of Cousin Jebediah and Stella Fitchhorn. Mrs. Fitchhorn turned ashen faced and Jebediah glowered at him.
“I don’t take kindly to me picture being taken, laddie!” he grumbled.
“Sorry, sir,” said Jupiter, jumping up from his seat. “Well, Ben, we better hit the road if we’re going to see everything on my itinerary. I think we’ll start with Big Ben, then move on to the Tower of London. I’d also like to see the home of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle if time permits.” He continued prattling on down the hall as if he were tremendously excited about the sightseeing expedition.
“Remember boys,” called Patricia, “I want you wearing seatbelts!”
“We will Aunt Patty,” Ben said as he pulled on his jacket. He didn’t have time to say more as Jupiter was already out the front door and jumping into the gleaming silver automobile.
“Gee, what’s the hurry?” he asked. “We have plenty of time to see everything.”
“We’re not going sightseeing,” explained Jupiter. “That was just a ploy to get out of the house.” He held up the camera and snapped another picture of Ben. “This is the real reason. We’ve got to get this role of film developed – and fast!”
Front Page News
WHEN THE BOYS had shut the bedroom door, Bob turned quickly to Pete. “We’ve got to get a copy of that newspaper!” he cried. Pete looked at his friend like he had lost his marbles.
“What’s the big deal?” he asked. “It’s only a newspaper. Your dad is a star reporter for one of the biggest in California. He could probably get you a copy of any newspaper in the world.”
“Not for a souvenir,” Bob explained patiently. “Timothy Fitchhorn saw something on the front page that upset him. That’s why he spilled his coffee all over it. So he could destroy it before we saw what it was!”
“Yikes!” cried Pete. “You got all that from a spilled cup of coffee? You’re turning into another Jupiter Jones – and that the world does not need!”
“Jupe saw it first,” conceded Bob, “but there is definitely something in that paper, and we have to find out what it is!”
Pete sat down on the bed. “But how? You’re supposed to be up here all day, sick in bed, remember?”
Bob shook his head and grinned. “I’m supposed to be up here all day, sick in bed. You, on the other hand, are perfectly healthy!”
The studious Investigator undid the lock on the window and pushed it open. Pete joined him at the window and gulped. It was a good twenty-five feet to the ground below.
Pete looked blandly at Bob. “Any more bright ideas, smart guy?”
Bob examined the ivy covered stones outside the window and frowned. “I was hoping for some kind of drain pipe you could use to shimmy down.” He thought for a minute and snapped his fingers. “The bedsheets!”
Pete rolled his eyes. “I was hoping for something a little more sturdy.”
“It’ll have to do. Come on, let’s get started tying them together.”
Twenty minutes later they had fashioned a long rope out of three bed-sheets. Bob tied one end of the make-shift rope to the bedpost that was closest to the window, and then threw the other end over the side.
“Down you go!” he smiled.
“You seem to be enjoying your sickness a little too much,” Pete muttered. “Where do I go to find a newspaper once I’m down?”
“Try the nearest neighbors house. Just keep on the horse path we used the other day – Ben said it continues through the woods and ends up near the neighbors’ land not too far away.”
“And what are you going to do while I’m gone?” Pete asked skeptically.
Bob threw himself on the bed and laced his fingers behind his blond head. A big smile crossed his face. “Rest and relaxation is the best cure!”
Pete sighed and threw his legs over the window sill. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, and began lowering himself down the sheet rope.
On his way down, Pete passed a window that looked in on the library. Being careful not to be seen, he paused long enough to peer in – holding a hand up over his eyes to shield the glare. On the other side of the ornate stained glass, he could see someone lurking about in the deep shadows of the book-lined room.
He was squinting his eyes into the gloom, trying to catch a better glimpse, when he suddenly felt a jerk on the rope. He looked up in alarm, but it was too late. Pete had just enough time to see that one of the knots in the rope was coming undone before he felt himself plummeting the last ten feet to the ground. He stifled a cry and braced himself for impact!
The athletic boy landed with a grunt – the sheet draping over his head as he sat up. Feeling chagrined, Pete quickly balled up the sheet and hid it in a nearby bush. Then, being careful not to be seen, he sprinted across the yard toward the thick woods.
When he reached the cover of the trees, Pete paused again. This time he observed that Jebediah O’Connell was once more in the garden, suspiciously prodding about with his cane. What was he looking for? Pete wondered. At least he knew it wasn’t Cousin Jeb searching the library.
Pete kept trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together in his mind as he raced through the woods. He was glad that Jupe had
a plan in mind, because he could make no sense of the baffling clues and suspects that surrounded this case.
Several minutes later, an out-of-breath Pete Crenshaw had spotted the nearest neighbors house. He took a moment to catch his breath and then strolled up the lane to the front door. Rapping firmly, the tall boy waited and waited. After several minutes, Pete grew restless. Was no one home? He rapped again, this time harder. He was hoping he hadn’t come all this way for nothing when the door was slowly opened by an elderly woman hobbling on a cane.
“Can I help you, young man?”
“Good morning, ma’am,” said Pete. “I’m a guest of your neighbors’ daughter, Mrs. Hichcocke O’Connell. I was...”
“Ah,” the old woman smiled fondly, “good people, the Hichcocke’s.” She sighed and looked sad. “What a shame. We had been neighbors for thirty years. He always claimed that house was haunted you know. But we never believed any such thing. I think he was just trying to put a scare into us. Imagine that! Alphred Hichcocke trying to scare his neighbors!” The old woman cackled heartily. “Yes indeed, I shall miss them. Why, I remember this one time...”
Pete cleared his throat. It was obvious the woman was lonely in her big house and was delighted to have someone to talk to. He wished he could stay and chat more about Mr. Hichcocke, but he thought he should really be getting back.
“I’m sorry, ma’am...but I, uh...”
“Oh yes,” the woman smiled, the deep wrinkles on her face turning up. “You youngsters are always on the go. Always an adventure to be found. I can still remember being that young you know. Well then, how can I help you?”
Pete explained about the newspaper being ruined by the coffee spill, and asked if they might be able to borrow her edition of the London Times – if she was through reading it, of course.
“Certainly, certainly,” she crowed. “I’ll go fetch it. I won’t be but a moment.”
Pete waited patiently on the stoop. He began to wonder how long her ‘moment’ was going to take, for it seemed she was gone an eternity. He was just beginning to think the elderly woman wasn’t going to return when he finally heard her shuffling back to the front door.
“Here you are, young man.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am,” Pete said politely. “We really appreciate it.”
The elderly woman smiled warmly at Pete, her eyes twinkling. “Oh my, think nothing of it. Give my regards to dear Patricia from Miss Ashley, won’t you?”
Pete promised he would and turned to leave. He was about to say goodbye to the nice lady when an idea struck him and he turned around.
“Excuse me, Miss Ashley – can I ask you a question?”
“Be my guest,” she smiled merrily. “What would you like to know, laddie?”
“I was just wondering...” Pete paused, deciding on just the right way to ask. “I was wondering if in all the time you knew the Hichcocke’s, had they ever mentioned a relative named Jebediah? Possibly a cousin of Patricia’s?”
The old woman thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Not that I recall,” she said. “Hitch and his wife Alma talked often of family – family was very important to them, you see. They were always having relatives stay as guests when they came here for the summer. I’m sure I would have heard of a cousin named Jebediah. Such a distinct name.”
Pete thanked her for the information and the newspaper and turned to leave.
“Be sure to say hello to Patricia, won’t you?” she called after him.
Pete promised he would and trotted back into the woods with the newspaper tucked safely under his arm. When he reached Hichcocke Manor, he observed that Jebediah was still wandering the grounds, searching suspiciously with his cane. He made a mental note of it while he retrieved the sheet from the bush and called quietly up to Bob.
Bob’s head appeared from the bedroom window.
Pete silently showed him the sheet, and then indicated with his hands for Bob to tie the knots tighter this time. He threw the ball of sheets up to Bob’s waiting hands and waited nervously behind the bush for Bob to toss the sheet-rope back down. When he did, Pete stuffed the newspaper into the back of his pants and began climbing. He stopped again at the library window, but this time all was quiet inside the ominous room. He climbed the rest of the way and pulled the make-shift rope up after him.
“Jebediah has been out in the garden looking for something all morning,” Pete reported. “And the lady who gave me the paper says she’s never heard of a relative named Jebediah. Also, I saw someone through the window sneaking around in the library!”
“Let’s see the paper!” Bob said eagerly.
“Creeps!” Pete cried. “I forgot all about the front page!” He quickly pulled the newspaper out and spread it flat on the bed.
Both boy’s eyes went wide when they saw the picture plastered on the front page. Under a story headlined Swindlers At Large was a blurry picture from a surveillance camera that showed two people leaving a bank. One was a large, fat man. The other was a skinny, short woman. The picture was of poor quality, but the likeness was unmistakable!
“The Fitchhorns!” both boys cried together.
A small caption ran beneath the grainy picture. It read:
*
SWINDLERS AT LARGE
Two known con artists were spotted leaving a bank in Liverpool last week. The couple, under the alias of Thomas and Shirley Fidgewick, are wanted on several charges of fraud and money laundering.
Story on Page 6.
*
“Wait until Jupe sees this!” Pete exclaimed. “We can sure rub it in when he gets back that we solved the mystery without him!”
A wide smile spread across Bob’s face. “Boy I can’t wait to see his expression! He’ll be in fits when we tell him we figured out it’s been the Fitchhorns one step ahead of us this whole time!”
“Gee,” said Pete, shaking his head doubtfully, “if they’re behind it all, then who’s playing the ghost? He’s much too big and she’s too small. Unless...unless there really is a ghost!”
“I think you know very well what Jupe would say about that, Second!” laughed Bob.
While they waited for Jupiter’s return, Pete wandered downstairs from time to time to check in on Patricia and make sure she wasn’t being harassed by the Fitchhorns. The boys savored their triumph until five o’clock, when they came down for dinner. Bob announced that he was still under the weather and would take his dinner back to his room. Pete, wanting to keep an eye on the crooked Fitchhorns, decided to stick close to Patricia for the rest of the evening.
Thunder shook the brooding house and storm clouds rolled in just as it was starting to get dark. Pete and Patricia sat in front of the television in the den when the lights flickered.
“I hope the boys get back soon,” she said in a worried voice. “I don’t like them driving in the rain. Ben’s a very responsible boy, but accidents can happen.”
“Don’t worry,” said Pete reassuringly. “Between Ben and Jupe, they’ll be just fine.”
Patricia smiled at Pete as rain began spattering against the tall windows. Pete had just gotten up to throw another log onto the fire when he stopped in his tracks –the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.
A long, ear-piercing scream had shattered the night!
Race To The Embassy
WHEN BEN AND Jupiter had left Hichcocke Manor in Ben’s roadster, the older boy had assumed they were really going sightseeing. Jupe quickly shook his head at this and began rummaging in the glove-box for a map.
“I thought you had given up on the case,” said Ben.
Jupiter grinned at the tall boy as he unfolded a map of London. “Not by a long shot!”
Ben looked confused. “Then if we’re not going to see Parliament, where are we going?”
The stocky Investigator held up his camera. “First, we need to get the film in this camera developed. Then we have to get to the American Embassy,” he declared, “and as fast as legally possib
le!”
With Jupiter acting as navigator, Ben maneuvered the sleek car through the busy London streets like a daredevil. An hour after they had left home, Ben was pulling his purring car up to the curb outside the large, white stone building of the American Embassy. Jupiter spied a small shop across the main thoroughfare that had a sign reading: ONE HOUR PHOTO.
“There’s a photo shop across the street. Meet me there once you’ve parked!”
Jupiter ran across the busy London street to the little shop.
As it turned out, they had only to wait about forty-five minutes before the large eight by ten pictures were finished being developed. Jupiter stuffed them into a large envelope and the two boys rushed out the door.
Huge pillars and American flags marked the entrance to the impressive embassy building. “Come on,” said Jupe, “we’ve not a moment to lose!” The hefty boy began racing up the first of several stone step-ways, with Ben close behind.
When the two boys reached the front doors, they were stopped by armed guards who demanded to see passports. Jupiter, who had traveled abroad before, was expecting this and came prepared. He whipped out his little blue book and showed it to the guards. He then explained that Ben was a citizen of England. Ben was asked to produce his driver’s license to verify this.
When the two boys were cleared to enter, they had to repeat the process with Jupiter’s passport again at the front desk. They were then asked to walk through a strange doorway that beeped and buzzed as they passed through.
“Please remove all metal objects from your pockets,” said a stern looking woman in a military uniform. “Also any watches or jewelry.”
The boys did as they were asked and were cleared to enter.
As they were strapping their watches back on their wrists, Ben shook his head in confusion. He had to admit he was stumped. “I’m quite sure you have a plan, Jupiter,” he said, “but I’ll be blasted if I know what it is!”
