8
AFTER SAM WENT HOME, Brian and Sean worked out a plan. “Mom,” Sean asked, “could Charles Collier spend the night tomorrow? It’s Friday, so we wouldn’t have to do homework.”
Mrs. Quinn smiled. “Of course you can invite Charles.”
Sean glanced at Brian, then back to their mother. “I think you’d better be the one to invite him, Mom. But don’t ask Mr. or Mrs. Elbert. They’d just say no. Ask Charles’s mother. She and his father are staying at the Palace Hotel in San Francisco.”
Mrs. Quinn nodded and reached for the phone. Within a few minutes she had introduced herself to Mrs. Collier.
Sean and Brian listened intently to their mother’s part of the conversation.
“Yes, Charles and Sean are in the same class,” she said. She looked puzzled for a moment, then added, “Of course, you would have learned about us from Maggie Gomez at the Redoaks Museum. Maggie and I are close friends.”
After a pause, Mrs. Quinn asked if Charles could spend Friday night with Sean. Her forehead wrinkled in impatience as she said, “No, I haven’t called the Elberts. I thought it best to ask you. They may not want to let Charles come without your permission.”
Mrs. Quinn nodded and said, “Yes, you must have been glad to have found the Elberts … But isn’t it nice that Charles can be with you … Yes … Of course …”
Finally, she said, “We’ll take good care of Charles and bring him home Saturday evening. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to learn that you’ll return to Redoaks at that time.”
As Mrs. Quinn hung up the phone, she said, “Mrs. Collier was pleased that we invited Charles. She said she hoped you’d visit him often.”
“That’s not what Martin Elbert told us,” Sean said.
Brian asked, “What did she say about the Elberts?”
“That it was lucky they showed up at just the right time.”
“I know, Mom, but did she say how she and her husband hired them?”
Mrs. Quinn nodded. “She said the Elberts contacted them soon after they signed the lease. They said the realtor had sent them. They had letters of recommendation from a number of important people in Redoaks.”
“Did she tell you the name of the realtor?”
“She didn’t have to,” Mrs. Quinn said. “I know the realtor was your father’s friend Jim Walsh.”
“Can I call Charles now and invite him?” Sean asked.
“Give his mother a chance to telephone the Elberts first,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Now, whose turn is it to set the table?”
“Sean’s,” Brian said. He escaped from the kitchen, looked up the telephone number for Jim Walsh’s realty agency, and dialed the number in the den.
Mr. Walsh was surprised at Brian’s question. “I don’t know anyone named Elbert,” he said, “so I certainly didn’t tell them the mansion was rented. Who are the Elberts?”
“They work for the Colliers, who rented the Everhart mansion,” Brian said.
“Oh, yes, the Colliers. They said they hoped to hire a couple to take care of their son and the house.”
“Did they say this while you were inside the Everhart mansion?”
“Let me think,” Mr. Walsh said. “Yes, they did. It was right after we closed the deal on the spot. So, what is it you want to know? What can I help you with?”
“You already answered my question,” Brian said. “Thanks a lot.” He hung up before Mr. Walsh could ask anything else.
Sean came in and hung over the back of the sofa. “It was really your turn to set the table,” he said.
“I know, but I had to make a phone call.” Brian told Sean what Mr. Walsh had said. “Those so-called ghosts had taken over the mansion long before the Colliers moved in. Now it’s time to catch them in the act.”
“Just you and me?”
“This time we might need some help. Let’s bring in Charles, of course, and Sam and Debbie Jean.”
Sean groaned. “Why Debbie Jean?”
“Because she’s the one who discovered the way into the secret passages.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She doesn’t know it yet,” Brian said, “and I just figured it out. Remember the round knob on the right newel at the bottom of the stairway—the one Mr. Elbert didn’t want Debbie Jean to touch? It wasn’t dull, like everything else in the house, because it’s been used. I think if you turn that knob the right way, the secret panel will open.”
Sean telephoned Charles and said, “Bring the spare key to your house tomorrow, but don’t let the Elberts know.”
When he called Debbie Jean he said, “You want to catch ghosts? We’ll give you the chance. Come to our house right after school tomorrow. Ride your bike. Bring your flashlight. And don’t tell anyone what we’re doing.”
Brian got in touch with Sam. “In order to catch the ghosts haunting the Everhart mansion, we need you, your flashlight, and we need to borrow your brother’s bike for Charles. Okay?”
“We’re going to chase ghosts on bikes with flashlights?” Sam asked.
“Be serious,” Brian said, “and be ready. Tomorrow afternoon, right after school.”
“Mr. Elbert was glad to get rid of me,” Charles said as they met the next afternoon. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him in a good mood.”
Brian explained what he and Sean suspected. He said, “Check the list. A boat that can pick up items from a larger ship in the bay. A secret room inside the house where smuggled items could be stored before they’re taken out and sold.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Charles asked.
“And tell them what?” Brian said. “That we think somebody might be smuggling something, but we don’t know what it is? No. We have to make sure, so Sean and I have made a plan.
“Debbie Jean will draw the Elberts to the back door and make sure they stay there long enough for the rest of us to enter the front door and get inside the secret passage.”
“I want to go inside the secret passage, too,” Debbie Jean said.
“Maybe you’re right,” Brian told her. “Keeping the Elberts distracted is probably the hardest job of all. We’d better let Sam do it.”
“No,” Debbie Jean said. “I want to do it.”
Brian nodded. “Sam, you serve as lookout in the hallway. Sean and I will need plenty of warning if Mr. Elbert comes in our direction.”
“What about me?” Charles asked.
“After you’ve opened the door, go back to the bikes,” Brian said. “We may need to make a quick getaway.”
Charles looked disappointed. “I think we should call the police,” he said.
“When we’re ready,” Sean told him.
“Let’s go,” Brian said.
They rode to the Everhart mansion and left their bikes under a stand of trees, out of view of the house. Debbie Jean cut around the side of the house toward the back door, while the others tiptoed up the front-porch steps.
They waited until they heard Debbie Jean pound on the back door and yell, “Hello! Is anybody home?”
Silently Charles inserted his key, and the big front door swung open to the empty entry hall. They could hear both Mr. and Mrs. Elbert trying to deal with Debbie Jean.
“Go back and wait for us,” Brian said to Charles, who didn’t move.
“Sam, go down the hall that way. Yell if you see anyone coming.” Brian strode to the polished knob on the newel and turned it hard to the left. It didn’t move.
He turned it to the right. It was difficult, but it turned, and as it did, a panel under the stairs slid open.
“Look at that!” Sean said. He ran through the opening and found himself inside a room as big as his bedroom. It had been built under and behind the stairway and was almost completely filled with boxes of all sizes.
Brian flicked on his flashlight and followed.
“Name-brand stuff,” Brian said as he pulled a handbag from one of the open boxes.
“Watches … silk scarves … Do you think these ha
ve been stolen?” Sean asked.
Brian remembered their mother’s rip-off designer handbag. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think these are illegal fakes.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to find out,” Mr. Elbert said from behind them. Suddenly, Sam was shoved into the secret room, and the panel slid shut.
“How do we get out of here?” Sam yelled.
Brian, Sean, and Sam searched around the opening but could find nothing that might move the panel to let them out.
“Bri,” Sean said, his voice trembling, “I think we’re trapped!”
9
“THERE’S ANOTHER WAY OUT,” BRIAN said and shone his flashlight against the far wall until he found an opening. “Come on. We’ll follow the passages.” They walked carefully through the narrow passages, which sometimes made abrupt turns. Finally, they found themselves facing a blank wall.
“I think this is the back of the house. It’s probably where the seaman came in,” Brian said.
Sean swung his flashlight beam on a small metal bar. “That must be the latch,” he said. “Try it.”
Brian slid it upward and jumped back as a piece of the wall swung inward.
“Yeah! We’re free!” Sean yelled.
“Wrong!” A stocky man, dressed like the “seaman” the gardener had described, stepped in front of them. He pushed Debbie Jean toward them. “Just turn around—all of you—and go back inside the passage,” he said.
Debbie Jean dug in her heels. “I know I said I wanted to see your secret passages, but I changed my mind.”
Brian groaned. “You told them you wanted to see the secret passages?”
“I had to tell them something. I couldn’t think of anything else. They got tired of my trying to sell them tickets to the school play.”
Mrs. Elbert ran out the back door. “Forget the kids,” she said. “Let’s just get out of here! Listen!”
From the distance came the sound of police sirens.
Charles stepped out from around the porch steps. “Sean, you said we’d call the police when we were ready,” Charles told him. “When you opened the secret panel I decided we were ready, so I called them.”
Brian smiled. “It looks like you ran out of luck,” he told the seaman.
The seaman, eyes wide, backed off a step, but Charles shook his head. “I know there’s a boat at anchor out there, but you can’t get away in the dinghy. I punched a hole in the bottom of it.”
Brian, Sean, Charles, Sam, and Debbie Jean told their stories to the police, and Charles telephoned his parents, who were horrified that they’d been harboring smugglers.
“This isn’t that gang’s first offense,” a police detective reassured them. “They’ll be put away for a long time.”
Charles said to Sean, “You and Brian solved the case. I’m glad I hired you.”
“But you saved everybody by calling the police,” Sean said. “You’re a hero.”
Charles’s eyes sparkled. “A hero? I wonder if my parents will think so, too.”
“Of course they will … Chuck,” Brian said. “And you’re not only a hero. From now on, you’ll always be an honorary Casebuster.”
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1996 by Joan Lowery Nixon
cover design by Omar Olivera, Andrea C. Uva
978-1-4532-8277-9
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The House Has Eyes Page 4
