The Haunted Lighthouse

by Penny Warner

  “Yeah,” Luke said, “unless it’s been destroyed, too, and we find another dead end.”

  Cody had stopped listening to the boys. She’d spotted a man in a black baseball cap standing only a few feet away reading a newspaper that covered his face. When he turned the page, Cody noticed he had a big black mustache and dark sunglasses. Then she noticed that his newspaper was upside down.

  Whoever it was had been within hearing distance of the kids the whole time they’d been discussing the hunt for the diamonds.

  Diamond Dave?

  Guys,” Cody whispered, “we’d better get out of here. I think someone’s watching us.”

  The three others glanced around.

  “Don’t look!” Cody said. “He’ll see you! Be cool. He’s over by those bushes, pretending to read a newspaper.”

  Quinn tried to look nonchalant as he surveyed the area. M.E. put her head down and peeked around from under her bangs. Luke made no attempt to disguise his actions—he looked right in the direction Cody had indicated.

  “Where?” Luke asked.

  “Shhh! He’ll hear you!” Cody sneaked another look.

  The man was gone.

  She blinked several times, as if clearing her eyes would make the man reappear. “I … I … He was just there. Standing, like, ten feet away. Reading a newspaper—upside down!” She searched the area but saw no sign of the man. “I know I saw someone.”

  “Whatever,” Quinn said, shrugging. “Let’s take the trail to the hotel. We’ll keep an eye out to see if anyone follows us.”

  “What if he is following us?” M.E. asked. “And he tries to get us on the trail? Then what?”

  Luke flexed his biceps. “I’ll take care of him,” he said.

  Cody grinned.

  “Meanwhile, let’s run,” Quinn said. “Ready? On the count of three: one … two … three!”

  The Code Busters raced along the shortcut toward the hotel. The path was well worn, mostly uphill, and Cody kept glancing back to see if the man was following them. Maybe he wasn’t spying on them. Maybe it had been her imagination.

  The kids were puffing when they reached the grounds of the large white hotel. Cody scanned the plentiful tennis courts and two pools and wondered what it cost to stay there.

  “Any sign of your mysterious stranger?” Quinn asked. He sounded as if he didn’t believe her.

  Cody shrugged and shook her head.

  “Okay, let’s see if we can find the laundry chute,” Quinn said, excitement in his eyes.

  The four kids entered the lobby of the grand hotel quietly, almost as if they were in church. Cody looked up at the high ceilings, then around at the Victorian decor—ornate wallpaper, heavy chandeliers, velvety chairs, and the various antiques that filled the room.

  “Now what?” M.E. whispered. “I don’t think we can just go up to the front desk and ask where the laundry chutes are. They’ll know we’re up to something.”

  Cody nodded. “Let’s get sodas at that café we passed. Maybe we can talk to the waiter to see if he knows anything about the chutes.”

  “Good idea,” M.E. agreed. “I’m dying of thirst.”

  The kids headed over to the Paragon Restaurant, passing several fancy boutiques and shops along the way. The place was practically empty at that hour, with only a few couples at the bar. The kids found a table by the window, and Cody stared out at the view for a few moments, spotting Alcatraz looming under the Golden Gate Bridge. The waiter, an elderly man with thinning hair slicked back, wearing black pants and a black shirt, greeted them and handed each one a menu. His name tag read DELMAR MORRIS.

  Cody blinked when she saw the prices. The price of food here was certainly higher than in the school cafeteria. After some discreet whispering and checking of funds, they decided on four lemonades and a basket of french fries to share.

  The waiter appeared again at their table from seemingly nowhere, his arms straight down in front of him, his hands folded. Cody noticed a sparkling ring on his thin pinky finger. “Good afternoon, young people. What may I get you today?”

  “Uh, we’d like four lemonades and some french fries, please,” Quinn said.

  The waiter nodded. “Very good. Anything else?”

  “No, that’s it.” Quinn handed him the menus.

  “Shall I put it on your room?”

  The kids looked at each other, puzzled. Then Cody said, “No, thanks, we’ll pay cash.”

  “Very good.” He took the menus and disappeared.

  “What did he mean, put it on your room?” M.E. asked.

  “He meant we could charge it to our room at the hotel and pay for it later,” Cody answered. “But we don’t have a room.”

  Cody couldn’t help checking the café entrance for any sign of the strange man she’d seen at the Campanile.

  “Listen,” Luke said, “this is it for me. If we don’t find anything here, I say we give up. I’ve got a basketball game later today. Those diamonds were hidden a long time ago—there’s no way they’re still around. Either Diamond Dave got them back, or someone else found them … or they were never really there.”

  “Well, at least let’s ask the waiter about the laundry chutes,” Quinn said. “He looks like he’s been around since the place was built. He should know where they are—if they still exist.”

  The waiter returned with a tray of four lemonades in tall glasses and a plate of french fries sprinkled with bits of white and green things. He set the drinks at each place and put the fries in the middle, along with a bottle of ketchup.

  “What’s the green stuff?” Luke asked him.

  “Just a little parsley, to give it color,” the waiter said, standing at attention, his hands holding the empty tray in front of him. Cody noticed the sparkling ring again. It reminded her of her dad’s class ring from the University of California. “These are our famous garlic fries. Will there be anything else?”

  “Uh … yeah,” Quinn said, looking up at him. “Have you been working here a long time?”

  The waiter nodded. “More than fifty years. My father worked here as a maintenance man, and my son works here now as a tennis pro.”

  “That’s cool,” Luke said. “Do you live here, too?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  The waiter didn’t seem to mind answering their questions, nor did he seem to be in a hurry. No wonder—there were hardly any other customers in the café.

  “We heard the hotel was haunted,” M.E. said. Apparently, the thought of ghosts walking the halls was still on her mind.

  “So I’ve heard,” the waiter said. “But truthfully, I’ve never seen her.”

  “Her?” Cody asked.

  “The little girl who supposedly haunts Room Four twenty-two. I think our guests like the idea of a haunted hotel—it reminds them of that movie The Shining. Still, I don’t know how these rumors get started. Like ghosts, they never seem to die.” He gave a crooked grin at his play on words, then he said, “So, no ghosts, but we’ve had everyone else here, from presidents to Hollywood stars. And now the four of you.”

  Cody felt herself blush. Did he really think they were staying at the hotel?

  “About the rumors,” Quinn continued. “We heard there were some fire escapes and laundry chutes that kids used to slide down. Are they still around?”

  “Not anymore,” the waiter said. “Both were dismantled some years ago. But you’re right—local teenagers used to come up here and slide down the laundry chutes. I, myself, did at one time, when I was a lot younger, of course.”

  “Cool,” Luke said, grinning. Cody could just picture Luke fearlessly sliding down the chutes.

  “So they’re really gone?” Quinn asked. His usually animated face was crestfallen.

  “Yes. As you can imagine, they were a liability. If someone had gotten hurt, well, that wouldn’t have been good. But there’s still plenty of fun to be had here for young people. There are the pools, the gym, the spa, the tennis courts …”

  Sti
ll, Cody thought, nothing compares to a slide that travels from the top floor to the basement.

  The basement …

  Before she could finish her thought, the waiter excused himself and left the kids to enjoy their drinks and fries. Quinn looked glum after learning the chutes no longer existed. This truly was a dead end, as Luke had predicted. The treasure hunt appeared to be over.

  Suddenly, Cody noticed a figure in the café doorway. This man wore a long coat, a black baseball cap, glasses, and had a mustache. The only thing missing was the upside-down newspaper.

  He’d followed them!

  Cody pulled out her cell phone that she’d taken along, just in case. She began writing down numbers on a paper napkin, some with dots on one side or the other, some without.

  “What are you doing?” M.E. asked as she watched Cody glance back and forth between her phone and the napkin.

  “It’s the telephone code,” Quinn said, pulling out his cell phone. “Each number stands for a letter on the phone keypad. If the letter is on the left, like A, you add a dot on the left—.2. If it’s on the right, like C, you add a dot on the right, like 2., and if there’s an extra letter, such as WXYZ, the two letters in the middle have no dots and you just have to figure out which one it is.”

  He touched the screen, revealing the phone keypad, and started translating the code on his own napkin.

  .9 3 .9 3 7 3 3. 6. 5. 5. 6. ̣9 3 .3 !

  .6 .2 6 7. .8 .2 6 .3 4. 6 .4 4. 6 .3 6. 6. 7 .9 .2 9 !

  Code Buster’s Key and Solution found on this page, this page.

  After Quinn translated the code, the kids looked at the doorway.

  The man had vanished.

  “There’s no man there,” M.E. said.

  “I swear I saw him,” Cody said in a low voice. “It was the same guy who was watching us at the Campanile. I saw him peeking in the doorway.”

  “There’s no one there now,” M.E. said.

  “Are you sure you saw someone?” Quinn asked.

  “I’m sure!” Cody said.

  She looked at the others, waiting for them to believe her.

  “Okay, I have an idea,” Quinn said. “M.E. and I will take off and see if he follows us. If he does, we’ll lead him on a wild-goose chase through the hotel. Luke and Cody, you act like you’re going to stay here and finish your drinks, then head for the basement.”

  “Why the basement?” Luke asked, then stuffed a french fry in his mouth.

  “That’s where the laundry chute probably ended up,” Quinn said. “Where they do all the hotel laundry. You guys take a look around, just to see if there’s anything still there from the chute. We’ll meet in the lobby in ten minutes. If the guy is still around—and following us—we’ll tell the hotel detective.”

  “They have hotel detectives?” M.E. asked.

  Quinn nodded. He dug out money for his share of the bill, M.E. did the same, and the two Code Busters headed out of the café, trying to look suspicious by whispering and pretending to read a page of their codebook. Meanwhile, Luke and Cody tried to look casual, drinking their lemonade and finishing up the fries.

  The waiter arrived with the bill, and Cody handed over the collected money.

  “Thanks,” Cody said, then added, “By the way, are guests allowed in the basement?”

  The waiter shook his head. “No. That’s for staff only.” He paused a moment. “And those staff members use the service elevator, tucked into an alcove next to the guest elevators.”

  “Thanks,” Cody said, smiling. She slid out of her chair. What a fun job the old waiter had, working in a place like this, with so much history and mystery and secret elevators and laundry chutes.

  Cody saw no sign of the mysterious man as she and Luke left the café. Maybe he was tailing Quinn and M.E., as planned. Or maybe her imagination was working overtime. They headed for the service elevator, checking to make sure they weren’t being followed, then ducked into the alcove and pushed the “Down” button. The doors opened and they stepped into the empty elevator car about the size of a hotel room. They rode to the bottom floor and stepped out into a dark hallway, lit by only a few bare bulbs. The air was stuffy, almost damp, and the sound of heavy-duty washing machines and dryers told them in which direction they’d find the laundry room. As they moved down the shadowy hall, they passed a few maids in uniforms speaking Spanish and stuffing bundles of bedding onto large rolling carts.

  No one asked them what they were doing there.

  Luke pointed to the laundry room. They entered an enormous space filled with washing machines and dryers, all running at once. Piles of sheets and blankets and comforters filled most of the floor, while freshly folded bedding was stacked on shelves. Several workers dressed in white uniforms monitored the machines.

  An older woman folding sheets eyed them and frowned, but said nothing.

  Cody gave her a friendly wave, hoping to charm her into accepting their presence.

  The woman said something in Spanish that Cody didn’t understand, then went back to her work.

  Luke nudged Cody and pointed to a large hole in the side of one wall. They stepped over to inspect it and found the hole led upward—to blackness and a dead end. Cody got out her cell phone and used her flashlight app to light up the opening. Clearly, it had been blocked a few feet above with a piece of sheet metal.

  Had this been the famous laundry chute?

  If so, what did it have to do with the missing diamonds? Surely, the jewels hadn’t been simply lying around in the laundry room all these years. Cody bent down and examined the edge of the chute. Scratches had been etched into the bottom of the opening. Cody noticed that they were in the shape of a circle.

  It looked like a simple drawing made from vertical lines with dots on the tops of them. In the center of the circle of I’s was the number 422.

  Four twenty-two.

  The number of the hotel room that was supposedly haunted by the young girl.

  It had been carved inside a circle made of lines and dots.

  Something was in that supposedly haunted room.

  Cody had to find out what it was.

  Ten minutes later, as planned, Cody and Luke met up with Quinn and M.E. in the lobby.

  “How did it go?” Quinn asked. “Find anything?”

  Cody glanced around to see if the strange man was lurking anywhere. No sign of him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was lurking nearby. “Were you followed?” she asked.

  “Nope,” Quinn said. “I think you were imagining things. Easy to do in a place like this.”

  Cody didn’t respond, but she was certain she had seen the man earlier.

  M.E. interrupted her thoughts. “We tried to go up to the hotel tower, but it’s blocked. If there were diamonds up there, I doubt they’re still around. But we couldn’t get in to check for ourselves.”

  Quinn looked at Cody. “How about the basement?”

  Cody pulled out her notebook and opened it to the page where she’d copied the drawing and number.

  “What’s that?” M.E. asked, peering at the page on tiptoe.

  “Good question,” Luke said. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

  “The number!” Quinn said. “Four twenty-two. The same number as the haunted hotel room. Maybe there’s something there.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Cody said. “But how are we supposed to get inside?”

  “And do we really want to?” M.E. added, her eyebrows raised. “I mean, it could actually be haunted.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “No worries, M.E., I won’t let the ghost get you. But there’s no way I can save you from your own imagination.”

  M.E. slapped him lightly on the arm. “Very funny.”

  “I have an idea,” Quinn said. “Come on.” He led the way to the elevators, this time the ones used by the guests, not the service elevator. The contrast between the two elevators impressed Cody. The service elevator car had bare steel walls and was large enough to fit a car
inside, but the guest elevator was wood paneled, with a tile floor and posters of the many hotel offerings. Just as they stepped in, Cody thought she saw people step into the other elevator, including a man with a long coat, but he was turned away and other people were in the way. She couldn’t be sure it was the same person who had been following them.

  The elevator dinged on the fourth floor, and the kids stepped off. Cody paused for a second, waiting to see if the other elevator stopped on the fourth floor, too, but it bypassed their floor and continued up. The hallway was clear, except for a couple of maids’ carts. Cody checked the signs that directed guests to their rooms, and pointed in the direction of the “400–425” wing. “That way,” she said, after checking to see if anyone was nearby.

  They moved slowly down the hallway and turned a corner. Cody thought she heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of a passenger, and paused again, but before she could check it out, Quinn stopped abruptly.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  “What?” M.E. asked.

  “See those maids’ carts?”

  Temporarily forgetting her fears of being followed, Cody spotted the carts farther down the hall, where two women dressed in black-and-white maid uniforms were chatting.

  “I’m going to pretend I forgot my key,” Quinn said, “and ask them to let me in.”

  He started to head down the hall when M.E. grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

  “What?” he asked, sounding irritated.

  “Listen,” she said. “What do you hear?”

  He listened. “Nothing. Just the maids talking. Why?”

  “And what are they saying?” M.E. asked.

  “How should I know?” Quinn asked. “They’re speaking Spanish.”

  “Exactamente,” M.E. said. “Languages are just like codes, you know. And I happen to know this one. Muévete. Let me handle this.”

  “I can guess what exactamente means,” Cody said. “Exactly. What does muévete mean?”

  “Move!”

  Cody grinned at her friend. M.E. was right—she was the only one who spoke Spanish. Cody knew only American Sign Language and codes. Someday she’d have to learn Spanish beyond hola and counting to ten.