Paper Treasure
Page 8
Reid seemed to be thinking it over. He couldn’t afford to stay in Colville much longer. “Okay, but no funny business.” He tightened his hold on Joey.
Charlie wracked his brain as he reached into the kitchen cupboard for a glass. He had to come up with a diversion, anything that would get Reid off-balance.
The answer was on four legs, staring at him through the kitchen window. Benjamin Bunny had come home.
Charlie ran the cold water tap to cover the noise and quietly raised the window sash. The cat scampered in over the sill and tried to jump to the floor.
“Oh no you don’t,” whispered Charlie. He tucked Benjamin under his arm like a football and silently sprinted to the small bathroom off the kitchen. “I’ve got a treat for you, Benjamin,” reaching for Essie Lovell’s toothpaste. “You favourite flavour.”
He quickly squeezed a gob of toothpaste on his finger and stuck it right in between Benjamin’s front teeth. “Sorry, buddy, but we’ve got to save my brother.”
He shut the bathroom door on Benjamin just as Reid hollered from the living room.
“I’m coming. I’m coming.” Charlie dashed to the sink and filled the glass. Then he turned off the tap, raced back to the bathroom and opened the door a crack. He was back in the living room handing Essie her water when Benjamin made a break for it.
Right on cue, the cat raced towards the living room.
“Benjamin!” screeched Essie.
“It’s a rabid cat!” yelled Weirdo.
Reid whipped around as Benjamin came flying into the room in a cloud of foam.
Reid jumped back, dragging Joey with him.
Joey stomped his heel on Reid’s foot, and elbowed him in the stomach. Reid howled with pain and let go of the boy’s arm. Benjamin was closing in on him. “Get that cat away from me!” Reid screamed as Benjamin tore around him in a frenzy.
Weirdo advanced on Reid in his wheelchair. “Why should we?”
Reid gave a yelp and tripped backwards over the metal footrest on Weirdo’s chair. He lost his balance and Charlie made a grab for him. He wrestled Reid to the ground, forcing his arm behind his back. “Not let’s see how you like it,” said Charlie, pinning him to the floor with his weight.
“All right, Charlie!” Joey scampered to the safety of Essie Lovell’s arms.
“Ah, what about the cat?” asked Weirdo nervously.
“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” Lisa reassured him. “It’s only toothpaste!”
“I thought I smelled peppermint,” said Weirdo with a chuckle.
A thin line of white drool dangled from Benjamin’s chin and plopped on the floor in front of Reid.
“Now do we call the police?” asked Joey.
Chapter Twelve
Paper Treasure
Much to Joey’s delight, Sergeant Punkari came equipped with handcuffs. Officer Newsome snapped them shut on Reid’s wrists with resounding finality.
“You’re making a big mistake,” blustered Reid. “All I did was offer these people a fair deal.”
“Fair!” spluttered Weirdo. “A few hundred dollars is not what I would call fair!”
“Enough already.” Sergeant Punkari shooed Officer Newsome and Reid out into the hallway.
He turned his attention back to the group of amateur detectives assembled in Essie Lovell’s living room. “Bad enough the kids didn’t let me know what was going on, but you two….” He eyed Weirdo and Essie sternly.
“You’re quite right, Sergeant,” said Essie. She rubbed Benjamin behind the ears. “We should have called you immediately.”
“Humph,” grumbled Weirdo.
“Excuse me?”
“We needed proof,” said Weirdo. “All we had was some cockamamie story about an old gold mine. Would you have taken us seriously?”
“Maybe not,” admitted the policeman, “but given the fact that the Rossitor house was broken into twice, we could have averted this morning’s adventure.” He rubbed his hand across his forehead in exasperation. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Mr. Weir. I think you were too busy having a good time to phone the police.”
Weirdo grinned at him sheepishly.
“We all were,” admitted Charlie. He’d just finished talking to his mother. She was relieved to hear that Joey was safe and sound, but Charlie would have some major explaining to do when he got home.
He sat down beside Lisa. She’d been holding Joey’s hand while he was gone.
Sergeant Punkari slapped his notebook shut and put it in the pocket of his plaid sports jacket.
“What about Reid’s contact in Toronto?” asked Lisa. “Are you going to arrest him, too?”
“We’ll call the Metro Police, and they’ll take it from there. In the meantime, don’t leave town,” he added with a wry grin. “We’ll need statements from all of you.”
“And my grandfather’s shares?” asked Charlie. “What about them?”
“I’ll let you know if they turn up.” Sergeant Punkari stood up to go.
Benjamin Bunny jumped down from Essie’s lap and followed him to the doorway, where Officer Newsome and Reid stood waiting. Reid scowled at the animal, but Benjamin rubbed against his legs anyway. Reid shoved at him with his foot.
“Well, I’ll be,” said Essie turning to Weirdo. “I know who he reminds me of!”
“Who?”
“Archie Spencer,” she declared. “He didn’t like cats either.”
Reid’s face froze. He tried to back away, but the cuffs held him fast and so did Officer Newsome.
“Who’s Archie Spencer?” asked Sergeant Punkari.
“He’s the guy who found the gold in the first place,” said Weirdo. He studied Reid, then turned to Essie with raised brows.
“Don’t you remember, Jack? Archie married Eleanor Reid! You and Hilda went to the wedding with us!”
“That’s right. I’d forgotten.” He looked at Reid. “If Archie’s wife was a Reid…”
“The odds are she would pass her family name onto a son,” continued Sergeant Punkari.
“Archie and Eleanor had a baby boy,” cried Essie. “I remember because it was the same year my Jamie was born.”
“You mean this guy Reid is Archie’s kid?” Charlie couldn’t believe it.
“So what if I am?” challenged the accused. “What difference does it make?”
“Plenty,” snapped Weirdo. “Your father was our friend. We supported him for years.”
“That’s not how I see it.” Reid’s face was dark with anger. “My father spent his life trying to keep that mine going. A fat lot you and your partners cared. You were only in it for the money.”
“Without our grubstake, he would have sold out years ago,” argued Weirdo hotly. “Some of us borrowed money to keep your father in business.”
“Calm yourself, Jack,” said Essie, “you’ll have a stroke.”
“Now I know where the expression ‘bad blood’ comes from,” muttered Weirdo. “He didn’t need us. He could have made lots of money with his father’s share.”
Reid glared at them all belligerently. Sergeant Punkari motioned to Officer Newsome to follow him out the door.
“It looks like you were right, Mrs. Lovell,” said Charlie. “Gold does do strange things to people.”
Joey ran to the window and watched the police escort Reid to the waiting cruiser. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk.
“Well, I guess that’s that,” said Weirdo as the flashing lights disappeared down the street. “Back to grungy custard and bingo in the lounge on Saturday nights.”
“But you’re rich now, Mr. Weir,” said Lisa. “You can do whatever you want. You too, Mrs. Lovell.”
“I don’t know, dear. I’m rather set in my ways.” She glanced shyly at Weirdo.
“We sure had an exciting week, didn’t we, Essie?”
The woman patted her chest. “My heart hasn’t worked so hard in years.”
“Just thi
nk,” said Charlie, “if it weren’t for Reid, you might never have heard about the Treasure Creek Gold Mine again.”
“Or met us,” said Lisa.
“That’s right,” added Charlie. “And just because we’ve solved the mystery doesn’t mean we’re not going to visit you anymore.”
“Then I’d better get a motorized wheelchair,” said Weirdo. “Otherwise I won’t survive much longer.”
“Jack!”
“He’s a lousy driver.” Weirdo gave Charlie a wink, and received a wide grin in return.
“Next time you’d better take me with you,” said Joey. “I get into trouble by myself.”
“Don’t worry,” laughed Lisa. “We’re not going to let you out of our sight. Right, Charlie?”
“Well….”
“That was Sergeant Punkari on the phone,” announced Laura Bradford. “There’s no sign of Dad’s certificates.”
“I guess Reid never found them,” said Charlie. He’d been filling his mother in on the evens of the week while Joey cooled his heels upstairs in his bedroom.
“So what am I going to do with you?” asked his mother. “You haven’t exactly been truthful with me lately.”
Charlie squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. He knew from experience that withholding information was tantamount to lying in his mother’s eyes.
“Well?”
“Free babysitting for a week?”
“Try again.”
“For a month?”
His mother shook her head and looked at the clock on the mantel for inspiration. “I confess I’m torn. You and Lisa did some really good deeds, helping Weirdo and Mrs. Lovell, but you also exposed your brother unnecessarily.”
“It wasn’t my fault he went to the motel.”
“That’s debatable. Joey only went there so that you’d include him,” said Laura. She laid her hand on her son’s arm. “He wants to be just like you, Charlie.”
Charlie stared at the rug. It was amazing. Joey could get him into trouble just by liking him.
His mother had made up her mind. “For starters, I want you to call your brother downstairs. I think he should be in on this discussion.”
Charlie went out into the hall and hollered for Joey. The little brat was sitting on the top step, eavesdropping.
He pounded down the stairs and pulled a walking stick from the umbrella stand. “En garde.” He lunged in Charlie’s direction, brandishing his new-found weapon.
“Put that back you idiot,” hissed Charlie. “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”
He made a grab for the stick, but Joey yanked his hand back, smashing the stick on the bannister. It cracked in two and fell to the floor.
Their mother appeared beside them. “I told you not to play with Grampa’s walking sticks, Joey,” she said angrily. “Now look what you’ve done.”
“Maybe it can be glued,” said Joey.
“I doubt it.” His mother examined the broken end, running her finger over its splintered edge. “That’s strange. It’s hollow inside.”
“No wonder it broke,” said Joey.
Charlie shot him a look. “Let me see,” he said taking the stick from his mother’s hand. He picked up the other half to see if they could be pieced together.
A corner of heavy white paper protruded from inside the bottom half of the stick. Charlie gave it a tug. A rolled-up tube of paper slid out and unfurled in his hand, and the now familiar gold lettering of the Treasure Creek Gold Mine came into view.
“The shares,” breathed his mother. “You found the shares!”
There were five of them in total, all now worth a fortune in Mattlin Mining.
“Look,” said Charlie. “They’re signed on the back!”
Each one bore Malcolm Rossitor’s signature as witnessed by Mrs. Kowalski. Charles and Joseph Bradford were the new owners of Malcolm Rossitor’s shares in the Treasure Creek Gold Mine!
There was one other piece of paper. A note addressed to their mother.
“My darling daughter,
This might just be the ramblings of an old man, but I want to safeguard these shares for the boys in case they are worth something after all. You’ll know what to do. Everything else is yours.
Love, Dad.”
“Don’t cry, Mom,” said Joey. “This is good news.”
“I know sweetheart.” Laura Bradford wiped her eyes. “It’s just nice to know how much your grampa loved you.”
Charlie put his arm around his mom, and after a moment’s hesitation, drew Joey in too.
“Who’s ready for another burger?” Robert Bradford flipped a patty of meat onto an open bun. “Mr. Weir?”
“No, thanks, I’m doing fine.” Weirdo dusted the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin and beamed at the others around the picnic table. He was surrounded by new friends, the Bradfords, the Kirbys, Mrs. Kowalski – and a special old friend. Essie smiled at him across the table.
“So, let me get this straight,” began Mike Kirby. “Jonathan Reid Spencer must have inherited his father’s shares.”
“About six years ago,” said Laura Bradford. “But it wasn’t until he read the same article as Dad that he realized he was sitting on top of a gold mine.”
“I don’t think it was only greed that made him try to swindle us,” added Essie Lovell. “He was really out for revenge.”
“But why?” asked Robert Bradford. “The other shareholders made the only choice they could have under the circumstances.”
“Well, if he was just a child when the mine stopped working,” mused Kathie Kirby, “wouldn’t he blame the others? In his eyes his father had found the gold and it was up to the others to find the money.”
Weirdo agreed. “We all quarrelled about money.” He cleared his throat. “Even Malcolm and me. I can’t tell you how much I regret that. We let it ruin a friendship.”
“Well, I for one am glad to have you back,” said Laura. She smiled tenderly at him.
“He’s not bad once you get to know him,” drawled Charlie.
“Humph.” Weirdo blinked back a few tears and concentrated on his hamburger.
“So, what are you going to do with all your money?” asked Mrs. Kowalski.
“Save it for school,” said Charlie.
Weirdo cleared his throat again. “Well if I were thirty years younger…or even ten…I’d party! But,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “Essie tells me there’s a Caribbean cruise for seniors this winter. We’re thinking about taking a trip together.”
Essie Lovell flushed delicately.
“What a nice idea,” said Lisa’s mom.
“But you’re not married,” blurted Joey.
“Joseph Bradford!”
“Well they’re not!”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Sport,” said Robert Bradford ruffling his son’s hair. “They’re grown-up people.”
“What you need are some friends your own age,” said his mother. “Especially since we’re going to stay in Colville.”
“We are?”
“Your father and I talked about it last night. If I can get a teaching position here in Colville, he’ll open an office here.”
“Why, that’s wonderful news,” said Kathie Kirby. “We’d love to have you next door. Wouldn’t we, Lisa?”
Lisa grinned at Charlie. “Howdy, neighbour.”
“Howdy.” Charlie gazed at her across the table. For once he didn’t care what anyone else thought: he was in love.
“Oh, that reminds me,” said Mrs. Kowalski. “The Nortons are coming back from holiday next week. They have twins Joey’s age.”
“All right!” cheered Joey. “Guys my own age!”
“Well, not exactly,” said Mrs. Kowalski. “They’re girls.”
“Girls?” Joey’s face fell.
“Hey, Joey. Look at it this way.” Charlie gave him a playful slug on the arm. “You can double date without me.”
A freelance writer and novelist, Anne Stephenson has always loved writing and reading mysteries. She lives in a 150-year-old farmhouse with her husband Richard and a barn cat named Mr. Tubbs. When not writing for nine-to-12 year olds, Anne is busy plotting how to commit murder on the page.
She is also one-half of Stephanie Browning, the pen name she shares with her long-time friend and co-author, Susan Brown.
For a sneak peek at what else Anne Stephenson writes, visit: annestephensonwriter.com
COPYRIGHT AND PUBLISHING INFORMATION
A Charlie Bradford Mystery
ISBN eBook Edition: 978-0-9938299-1-8
Paper Treasure was originally published by General Paperbacks, Toronto, Canada
Copyright ©1991, 2016 by Anne Stephenson
Publication Date: February 1, 2016
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Heather McIntyre, heather.mcintyre@coverandlayout.com
Cover Image: Matthew Stephenson, age 14