by Mark Zahn
They all looked around them, as if the ghost of Molly Thibidoux were sneaking up behind each one of them, ready to cinch her icy noose around their necks. A fresh burst of lightning and thunder crackled – and when the lights in the library flickered, everyone in the room gasped.
Jupiter seemed the most frightened of all. At the sound of the thunder, he clumsily dropped the half-eaten apple he was holding. It fell on the floor in front of Winston.
“Sorry,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. The overweight Investigator kneeled down to pick up the apple and smiled. “I guess I’m a little jumpy,” he confessed.
“Are you going to keep us in suspense all night, Jupe?” Pete said impatiently. “Where’s the ghost at?”
“All right, Second,” he nodded. “But let’s start at the beginning and work our way up to the ghost, shall we?”
“You better start somewhere,” Timothy Fitchhorn threatened, “or I’m leaving!”
“For once I agree with the blowhard,” said Jebediah crossly.
Jupiter ignored them and took a deep breath. “The first thing we need to discuss is the last clue from the jukebox record – ‘Hidden Treasures.’ If you’ll remember, the second verse said: ‘Time has stood still without you, I’m like Adam without an Eve, I’ll go on searching the universe, until I’ve buried what I grieve.’”
“Mr. Hichcocke’s letter said that we were wrong about the meaning,” remembered Bob.
“But you said this morning that you had figured out the real meaning,” added Pete.
Jupiter grinned at his partners. “I did – and so did someone else! When you take each line as a riddle in itself, the answer becomes clear. ‘Time has stood still without you’ is what threw us off track the first time. It’s clearly a reference to a timepiece of some sort, but we were too hasty in our judgment. The rest of the verse tells us exactly which timepiece to look for!”
“Well, which one is it?” Stella Fitchhorn chirped excitedly.
Jupiter had a superior look on his face. “That’s simple enough,” he said. “The second line tells us! ‘I’m like Adam without an Eve.’ Well, according to Genesis – the first book of the bible – where did Adam and Eve live?”
“I know that one!” cried Pete. “The garden of Eden!”
“Exactly!” crowed Jupiter. “So if the first line means ‘time-piece,’ we can assume the second line of the song means ‘garden.’”
Patricia looked confused. “But what kind of timepiece could be in the garden?” she asked. “A clock would be ruined out there.”
“Naturally a real clock would rot away,” agreed Jupiter. “But not a marble clock!”
Suddenly Jebediah’s eyes lit up. “By jimmy, I think I see what the fat one’s drivin’ at...Mr. Hichcocke was talkin’ about the sun-dial in the garden! That’s a timepiece, and it’s broken too. The metal gnomon that makes the shadow broke off years ago. That’s what ‘Time has stood still without you’ means!”
The Fitchhorns and Jebediah rushed over to the stained glass window that looked out onto the garden. Pete, Bob, and Patricia crowded close behind.
“It’s too dark to see anything,” Pete reported, cupping his hands on either side of his eyes. “We’ll have to go out there.”
Jupiter smiled at Ben and shook his head. “There’s really no need,” he said. “Someone else has already deduced the last two lines of the verse. Once you understand the pattern it’s really quite simple. ‘I’ll go on searching the universe, until I’ve buried what I grieve,’ simply means ‘search for something buried.’
“And someone has done just that!” Ben Hichcocke cried. The lights in the library flickered again – staying off a fraction of a second longer this time.
“But who?” asked Patricia.
Jupiter Jones stood in the middle or the library looking as proud as a peacock. He drew himself up to his full height. “Someone who knows every inch of this house. The same person who has never been around when the ‘ghost’ has made an appearance,” he said.
“The Fitchhorns!” cried Patricia. “They’re the ones that have been trying to scare us out of the house so they could find the treasure!”
Timothy Fitchhorn took a step forward. “Careful what you say, missy,” he growled. “I’m not a man to be crossed!”
Stella Fitchhorn’s face glowed red. “How dare you say such a thing to family!” she bellowed.
“We know you’re not family!” Pete said hotly. “We saw the newspaper!”
Timothy Fitchhorn stood speechless. He wiped beads of sweat off his brow with a handkerchief and sputtered.
“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about. W-what newspaper?”
Bob threw the newspaper onto the coffee table where everyone could observe it. “The one that you spilled coffee on so we wouldn’t see it. The one that says you and your wife are con-artists who have scammed people all over Europe!”
“W-w-why that could be anyone!” Stella Fitchhorn sputtered nervously. “Anyone at all!”
Timothy Fitchhorn glared at his wife. “I told you to let me do the talking.” He calmly straightened his jacket and brushed back his greasy hair. “That picture doesn’t prove a thing. We have committed no crime here – and we are certainly not impersonating a ghost. The idea! What could possibly be gained from dressing up as a ghost anyway?”
Pete took a step forward. “To scare us out of the house,” he accused, “so you could search for the treasure without being caught! Too bad you didn’t count on us being Investigators and not being scared off that easily.” He looked at Bob and Jupiter and grinned lamely. “Well, two out of three, anyway.”
Lightning crashed again – very close this time. The lights flickered and rain beat brutally against the window pane. Jupiter spoke up.
“Mr. Fitchhorn is right,” he said calmly. “They’re not the one dressing up as the ghost.”
Everyone turned to look at Jupiter.
“What?” Patricia cried. “Then if they’re not the ghost, w-who is?”
Suddenly Bob stood up and cleared his throat. “Would you mind if I guessed, Jupe?”
Jupiter, looking a little surprised, nodded reluctantly to Bob. The stocky boy clearly enjoyed being in the spotlight, but he wasn’t above giving Bob a fair shot if the smaller boy thought he knew the answer.
Pete scratched his head in confusion. “Why am I the only one that doesn’t know what’s going on around here?”
Bob smiled and pointed a finger.
“The ghost is none other than the butler – Winston!”
Nobody Move!
THE LANKY BRITISH butler sat up like he had been stung by a hornet. “What’s the meaning of this!” he cried. “Why, that’s preposterous! The idea of me scheming against my own employers is utterly ridiculous!”
Patricia looked to Jupiter in astonishment. “I have to agree with Winston,” she said severely, “there must be some mistake…”
“I always knew he was up to no good,” Jebediah scowled, approaching the servant with his cane in hand. “I didn’t trust ye from the start. Using poor Julia like that!”
Winston Abernathy gave Jupiter a deadly look.
“You’d better explain yourself, young man. As it is, I will be tendering my resignation,” he fumed, glaring at Patricia. “I have never been so insulted in my life!”
Jupiter calmly opened the oversized envelope he had been holding and produced the two eight by ten pictures – one of Stella Fitchhorn and Jebediah O’Connell, the other of Timothy Fitchhorn and Winston. He tossed them onto the coffee table.
Lightning crackled as everyone looked at the pictures. The lights blinked off and on again and the wind howled and moaned outside the intimidating window.
“Ben and I went into London and had these pictures run through the Interpol database at the American Embassy. I’ll admit that my true intention was to find out the background of the Fitchhorns and Mr. O’Connell. I suspected they were criminals, but it was the photo I took of Mr. Fitchhorn
and Winston that really struck gold!
“You see, when I snapped the photo of Mr. Fitchhorn, Winston was kneeling beside him, helping to clean up the coffee that Fitchhorn spilled to hide the newspaper photo. When Interpol checked the pictures, they not only looked into the Fitchhorns and Jebediah’s background, but also Winston Abernathy’s. And what they found was pure dynamite!
“I’m afraid your butler has made a successful career out of marrying servant women just like Julia so he can gain access to some of the wealthiest houses in Europe. In fact, he’s wanted in the Netherlands, Ireland, France, and many other countries for pulling the same scheme.
“I think it is also safe to say,” Jupiter added, “that Winston and the Fitchhorns know each other – but rather than one ratting on the other, spoiling both their chances at the fortune, they decided to keep quiet and work together. I suspect that is why Winston set the newspaper in front of Mr. Fitchhorn – to let him see that the police were on his trail, as well as to keep his own secret safe. For if the Fitchhorns were exposed, they would most certainly expose Winston as well!”
Patricia looked ashen-faced. She confronted the butler. “Is...is this true, Winston? Were you planning on robbing us?”
“Absolutely not!” the butler cried. “And even if I were, these young cretins haven’t a shred of evidence! How do you expect to prove these outrageous allegations, young man?”
The stocky First Investigator crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders, as if the answer were as obvious as the nose on his face. “By examining your shoes,” he said serenely.
All eyes in the room looked down at the butler’s shoes.
They were muddy!
“I ran over from the house when I heard Julia scream,” he explained. “Anyone can see it’s raining outside.”
“But there’s a stone path from the cottage to the back door,” countered Jupiter. “And more importantly, when Ben and I pulled up the driveway in his car, we saw someone in the garden by the light of the headlamps – in the exact location of the sundial!”
“That’s why Jupe and Ben had to take off their shoes and socks!” cried Bob.
“Exactly,” said Jupiter. “Ben and I gave chase into the muddy garden, but without flashlights it was too dark to see anything. However, the lightning provided enough illumination to see that the sundial was tipped over and a large round container had been removed from underneath!
“You carefully stayed off the stone path so as not to leave any footprints leading to your door. It’s raining, so the footprints would have only lasted moments, but we were right behind you. You couldn’t have known we didn’t have flashlights, but you didn’t want to take the chance of us following the muddy footprints to your cottage door. Just the opposite of when you stayed off the dew-covered grass the morning before.
“I’ll admit I was still uncertain of who the ghost was when Ben and I came inside. Mainly because I observed that both Jebediah and Winston’s clothes were wet. Then I remembered that Jebediah often went for walks in the rain – but never through the muddy garden! The first thing I did when I saw him was to examine his shoes. Cousin Jeb’s were wet, but not muddy.”
Jebediah nodded his head in agreement. “Aye,” he said, “the wind caught my umbrella and blew it inside out. I was soaked to the bone by the time I heard poor Julia scream and I ran inside!”
Jupiter nodded and continued. “When we all met in here, I made sure to ‘accidentally’ drop something near Winston so I could examine his shoes. When I observed they were caked in mud, I knew I had found the right man – or should I say ‘ghost’?”
Winston looked outraged. “That still proves nothing!” he snorted. “Your entire story is based purely on conjecture and circumstantial evidence!”
Now Bob stepped in. “If Jupe is wrong, then how did you know that Julia had bumped her head when she fainted in the kitchen?”
Winston flushed. “Why...Why...Don’t be ridiculous! I was standing right there! Everyone saw me!”
Bob shook his head. “No, you weren’t there. I heard Julia scream when I was upstairs. When I came running into the kitchen, Pete was at her side and Patricia was standing by the counter.”
“That’s right,” Pete exclaimed. “I remember now! The Fitchhorns and Cousin Jeb rushed in right after Bob. But Winston didn’t come into the kitchen until after Julia said she had bumped her head!”
“You knew,” accused Bob, “because you were standing at the bottom of the cellar stairs! Probably changing out of the ghost costume.”
Jupiter confronted the butler. “All the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to come together now. You figured out the riddle of the jukebox record – but too late! You knew Ben and I would be returning any minute, so you had to act fast! You created a diversion by dressing up as the ghost and scaring your own fiancé. When everyone came running, you slipped off the costume and ran out the secret exit in the back room of the cellar. Next you made a bee-line for the sundial in the garden. And you would have gotten away with it if Ben and I hadn’t returned just as you were pulling the box out of the ground!”
Jupiter gave the butler a smug look. “Yes, you were about to make your escape when Ben and I pulled up the drive, catching you in the headlights. That startled you – but only for a moment! You couldn’t have had time to hide the treasure very well. I believe that if we search the Abernathy’s cottage, we’ll find whatever was buried beneath the sundial. And most likely a dress, wig, and noose as well!”
Rage passed over the tall butler’s face. “Why, you no good little punk! I’ve had enough of your meddling!” Suddenly the butler held a small, deadly pistol in his hand. He waved it desperately. “Nobody move!” he barked hoarsely.
“Winston!” Patricia cried out in shock. “How...how could you?”
“It was easier than you think!” the butler sneered. “The hardest part was catering to you fat-cats and your every whim while I learned where all the safes in the house were located! This job proved trickier than most – but how could I pass up a challenge from Alphred Hichcocke?” He waved the gun menacingly and nodded toward the door. “Everybody out!” he ordered. “I want everyone in the cellar!”
“Timothy, do something!” Stella Fitchhorn sobbed hysterically. “He’s going to make off with the treasure!”
“Quiet you!” Fitchhorn snapped. “Do you want to get us shot?”
“Do as he says,” said Jupiter boldly. The First Investigator raised his hands above his head and marched slowly toward the door. He was followed closely by Bob and Pete, who looked at their leader in surprise. It wasn’t like Jupiter Jones to give in so easily.
“You’ll pay for what you did to Julia!” Jebediah swore. “If I have to search all of Europe, I’ll track ye down and find ye!”
“Into the cellar,” commanded Winston. “It doesn’t pay to threaten a man with a gun!” He waved the pistol again. “Anyone tries anything funny and I put a hole in them!”
The group marched peacefully down the hall and into the brightly lit kitchen.
“Open the door, Sherlock!” Winston growled to Jupiter, pointing to the cellar door in the pantry.
Jupiter did as he was told.
“Now go down those steps – all of you! And no tricks or I shoot!”
The captives slowly descended the steps into the dank, creepy cellar.
“Now take out that lightbulb and throw it up to me!” the butler commanded.
Again, Jupiter did as he was told. He unscrewed the single light-bulb and tossed it up to Winston’s waiting hand.
Winston Abernathy let the bulb drop on the stone steps, shattering it into a hundred pieces. “Don’t bother trying to use the secret exit,” he laughed, “I’ve locked it from the outside. You’ll also be pleased to know that I have given Julia a strong sleeping sedative, so she won’t be awake until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest!”
With a sneer the tall butler closed the cellar door with a sickening slam. The group of captives were trapped �
� engulfed within the utter darkness of the cellar!
The Ghost Of Molly Thibidoux
STELLA FITCHHORN LET out a frightened squeak when the cellar door was slammed shut, then began to sob in hysterics.
“I can’t stand the dark!” she bawled. “I’m claustrophobic! Timothy, you’ve got to get me out of here this instant!”
“Oh, pipe down!” her husband huffed. The Three Investigators heard the fat man climb the steps, the glass crunching beneath his feet. He threw his shoulder against the cellar door. It remained tightly sealed, not moving an inch. After several repeated attempts, he gave up. “It’s bolted from the other side. This door isn’t moving until Julia unlocks it tomorrow,” he panted. Then he spoke to Jupiter. “If you’ve got any bright ideas, kid, now is the time for them.”
Jupiter remained oddly silent.
Somewhere in the dark Pete spoke up. “Hey, maybe we should try to find the secret door in the back room. Maybe Winston was only bluffing about it being locked.”
“A secret door ye say?” said Jebediah. “Not surprising in this house, I suppose. If we keep together and follow the shelves, we could find it with little problem.”
“That sounds like a good idea to me,” said Patricia. “The sooner we get out of this cellar, the better. What do you think Jupiter? Jupiter?”
“Hey Jupe,” said Bob nervously. “Are you still with us?”
“Shhhh!” hissed Jupiter from the top of the black steps. “Listen!”
The group crowded close to the thick door at the top of the stairs and strained their ears. For a long moment there wasn’t a sound. Then the group heard muffled thumps and footsteps.
“Someone is prowling around up there!” whispered Ben.
“It must be Winston,” breathed Bob. “Why is he taking so long to escape?”
“Maybe he didn’t find the treasure after all,” guessed Patricia. “He might have come back to search the house some more.”
In the darkness, the group huddled close together on the steps. They held their breath, listening intently for more sounds of the intruder.
