The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  “This message appears to be authentic,” he declared. “My congratulations upon your good fortune.”

  “What will you do with all your money?” inquired Penny.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” The housekeeper sank into a chair, her eyes fastening dreamily on a far wall. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”

  Penny and her father exchanged a quick, alarmed glance. Mrs. Weems had been in charge of the household for so many years that they could not imagine living without her, should she decide to leave. During her brief, infrequent vacations, the house always degenerated into a disgrace of dust and misplaced furniture, and meals were never served at regular hours.

  “The oceans are very unsafe, Mrs. Weems,” discouraged Penny. “Wars and submarines and things. Surely you wouldn’t dare travel now.”

  “Oh, I mean in the United States,” replied the housekeeper. “I’ve always wanted to go out West. They say the Grand Canyon is so pretty it takes your breath away.”

  “Mrs. Weems, you have worked for us long and faithfully and deserve a rest,” said Mr. Parker, trying to speak heartily. “Now if you would enjoy a trip, Penny and I will get along somehow for two or three weeks.”

  “Oh, if I go, I’ll stay the entire summer.” The housekeeper hesitated, then added: “I’ve enjoyed working here, Mr. Parker, but doing the same thing year after year gets tiresome. Often I’ve said to myself that if I had a little money I would retire and take life easy for the rest of my days.”

  “Why, Mrs. Weems, you’re only forty-eight!” protested Penny. “You would be unhappy if you didn’t have any work to do.”

  “At least, I wouldn’t mind trying it.”

  “Such a change as you contemplate should be considered carefully,” contributed Mr. Parker. “While six thousand seems a large sum it would not last long if one had no other income.”

  Before Mrs. Weems could reply, a strong odor of burning food permeated the room.

  “The roast!” exclaimed the housekeeper. “I forgot it!”

  Penny rushed ahead of her to the kitchen. As she jerked open the oven door, out poured a great cloud of smoke. Seizing a holder, she rescued the meat, and seeing at a glance that it was burned to a crisp, carried the pan outdoors.

  “What will the neighbors say?” Mrs. Weems moaned. “I never did a thing like that before. It’s just that I am so excited I can’t think what I am doing.”

  “Don’t you mind,” laughed Penny. “I’ll get dinner tonight. You entertain Dad.”

  With difficulty she persuaded the housekeeper to abandon the kitchen. Left to herself, she opened a can of cold meat, a can of corn, a can of peaches, and with a salad already prepared, speedily announced the meal.

  “Mr. Parker, I truly am ashamed—” Mrs. Weems began.

  “Now don’t apologize for my cooking,” broke in Penny. “Quantity before quality is my motto. Anyway, if you are leaving, Dad will have to accustom himself to it.”

  “I’ll hide the can opener,” said Mr. Parker.

  “That’s a good idea, Dad.”

  “Before I go, I’ll try to teach Penny a little more about cooking,” Mrs. Weems said uncomfortably. “Of course, you’ll have no difficulty in getting someone efficient to take my place.”

  “No one can take your place,” declared Penny. “If you leave, Dad and I will go to wrack and ruin.”

  “You are a pair when you’re left to yourselves,”Mrs. Weems sighed. “That’s the one thing which makes me hesitate. Penny needs someone to keep her in check.”

  “An inexperienced person would be putty in my hands,” declared Penny. “You may as well decide to stay, Mrs. Weems.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I’ve planned on this trip for years. Now that it is possible, I feel I can’t give it up.”

  Penny and Mr. Parker regarded each other across the table, and immediately changed the subject. Not until that moment had they actually believed that the housekeeper was serious about leaving Riverview. Somehow they had never contemplated a future without Mrs. Weems.

  “I happen to have two complimentary tickets to a show at the Rialto,” Mr. Parker said offhand. “I’ll be tied up with a meeting tonight, but you folks might enjoy going.”

  “Shall we, Mrs. Weems?” inquired Penny.

  “Thank you,” responded the housekeeper, “but I doubt if I could sit still tonight. I thought I would run over to see Mrs. Hodges after dinner. She’ll be pleased to learn about my inheritance, I know.”

  “A friend of yours?” asked Mr. Parker.

  “Yes, Penny and I have been acquainted with her for years. She lives on Christopher Street.”

  “Perhaps this is none of my affair, Mrs. Weems. However, my advice to you is not to tell many persons about your inheritance.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Hodges is to be trusted.”

  “I am sure of it, Mrs. Weems. I refer to strangers.”

  “I’ll be careful,” the housekeeper promised. “No one ever will get that money away from me once I have it!”

  Penny helped with the dishes, and then as her father was leaving the house, asked him if she might have the two theatre tickets.

  “Since Mrs. Weems doesn’t care to go, I’ll invite Louise,” she explained.

  Mr. Parker gave her the tickets. Making certain that the housekeeper was upstairs, he spoke in a low tone.

  “Penny, Mrs. Weems is serious about leaving us. You must try to dissuade her.”

  “What can I do, Dad?”

  “Well, you usually have a few ideas in the old filing cabinet. Can’t you think of something?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Penny said with a twinkle. “We can’t let an inheritance take Mrs. Weems from us, that’s certain.”

  After her father had gone, Penny telephoned Louise, agreeing to meet her chum at the entrance of the Rialto. Arriving a few minutes early, she idly watched various cars unloading their passengers at the theatre.

  Presently a long black limousine which Penny recognized drew up at the curb. The chauffeur opened the door. Mr. Kohl and his wife stepped to the pavement. Observing the girl, they paused to chat with her.

  “I see you have the new fender installed on your car, Mr. Kohl,” Penny remarked with a grin. “May I ask how much I owe the garageman?”

  “The sum was trifling,” responded the banker. “Twelve dollars and forty cents to be exact. I may as well take care of it myself.”

  “No, I insist,” said Penny, wincing inwardly. “You see, I am one of the Star’s highly paid executives now. I write society in Miss Hilderman’s absence and Dad gives me a salary.”

  “Oh, really,” remarked Mrs. Kohl with interest. “We are giving a dinner for eight tomorrow night. You might like to mention it.”

  “Indeed, yes,” said Penny eagerly.

  Obtaining complete details, she jotted notes on the back of an envelope. Mrs. Kohl, at Penny’s request, was able to recall several important parties which had been held that week, providing material for nearly a half-column of society.

  After the Kohls had entered the theatre, Penny turned to glance at the black limousine which was pulling away from the curb. A short distance away stood a young man who likewise appeared to be watching the car. He wore a gray suit and a gray felt hat pulled unnaturally low over his eyes as if to shield his face.

  As Penny watched, the young man jotted something down on a piece of paper. His gaze remained fixed upon the Kohl limousine which was moving slowly down the street toward a parking lot.

  “Why, that’s odd!” thought Penny. “I do believe he noted down the car license number! And perhaps for no good purpose.”

  CHAPTER 5

  THE MAN IN GRAY

  Deciding that the matter should be brought to Mr. Kohl’s attention, Penny looked quickly into the crowded theatre lobby. The banker and his wife no longer were to be seen.

  Turning once more, the girl saw that the young man in gray had also disappeared.

  “Now where did he go?” thought Penny. “He must have s
lipped into the alley. I wish I knew who he was and why he wrote down that car license number.”

  Curious to learn what had become of the man, she walked to the entrance of the alley. At its far end she could barely distinguish a shadowy figure which soon merged into the black of the starless night.

  Penny was lost in thought when someone touched her arm. Whirling, she found herself facing Louise Sidell.

  “Oh, hello, Lou,” she laughed. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” apologized Louise. “I missed my bus. May I ask what you find of such interest in this alley?”

  “I was looking for a man. He’s disappeared now.”

  Penny told Louise what she had observed, mentioning that in her opinion the man might be a car thief.

  “I’ve heard that crooks spot cars ahead of time and then steal them,” she declared. “I think I should have Mr. Kohl paged in the theatre, and tell him about it.”

  “You’ll make yourself appear ridiculous if you do,”Louise discouraged her. “The man may not have taken down the license number at all. Even if he did, his purpose could have been a legitimate one.”

  “Then why did he slip down the alley?”

  “It’s merely a short-cut to another street, isn’t it? Penny, your imagination simply works at high speed twenty-four hours of the day.”

  “Oh, all right,” said Penny with a shrug. “But if Mr. Kohl’s car is stolen, don’t blame me.”

  “It won’t be,” laughed Louise, linking arms with her chum. “Not with a chauffeur at the wheel.”

  Entering the theatre, the girls were escorted to their seats only a few minutes before the lights were lowered. Penny glanced over the audience but failed to see either Mr. Kohl or his wife. The curtain went up, and as the entertainment began, she dismissed all else from her mind.

  The show ended shortly before eleven and the girls mingled with the crowd which filed from the theatre. Penny watched for Mr. and Mrs. Kohl but did not see them. As she walked with Louise toward the bus stop she spoke of her new duties as society editor of theStar.

  “Lou,” she asked abruptly, “do you mind going home alone?”

  “Why, no. Where are you taking yourself?”

  “To the Star office, if you don’t mind.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “I have a few notes I should type. Unfinished work always makes me nervous.”

  “You, nervous!” Louise scoffed. “I’ll bet you want to see Jerry Livingston!”

  “No such thing,” denied Penny indignantly. “Jerry doesn’t work on the night force unless he’s assigned to extra duty.”

  “Well, you have something besides work on your mind.”

  “Come along with me, Suspicious, and I’ll prove it.”

  “No, thanks,” declined Louise. “It’s home and bed for me. You run along.”

  The girls separated, Penny walking three blocks to the Star building. The advertising office was dark, but blue-white lights glowed weirdly from the composing room. Only a skeleton night staff occupied the newsroom.

  Without attracting attention, Penny entered her own office. For an hour she worked steadily, writing copy, and experimenting with various types of make-up to be used on Monday’s page.

  The door creaked. Glancing up, Penny momentarily was startled to see a large, grotesque shadow of a man moving across the glass panel. However, before she actually could be afraid, Jerry Livingston stepped into the room.

  “Oh, it’s you!” she laughed in relief. “I thought it was against your principles to work overtime.”

  The reporter slumped into a chair, and picking up a sheet of copy paper, began to read what Penny had composed.

  “I’m not working,” he replied absently. “Just killing time.” With a yawn he tossed the paper on the desk again.

  “Is my stuff that bad?” inquired Penny.

  “Not bad at all. Better than Miss Hilderman writes. But society always gives me a pain. Not worthy of your talents, Penny.”

  “I wish you would tell Dad that, Jerry. I’d love to work on a big story again—one that would rock Riverview on its foundation!”

  “I could bear up under a little excitement myself, Penny. Ever since you broke the Green Door yarn, this sheet has been as dead as an Egyptian tomb.”

  “Things may pick up soon.”

  “Meaning—?”

  “Dad is thinking rather seriously of launching a drive against an organized group of mediums.”

  “So I hear,” nodded Jerry. “You know, for a long while I’ve thought that a clever reporter might be able to dig up some evidence at the Celestial Temple.”

  “Then you know about the place?”

  “I’ve been there several times.”

  “What are the meetings like, Jerry?” Penny asked eagerly.

  “Similar to a church musical service. At least everything was dignified when I was there. But I sure had a feeling that the lid was about to blow off.”

  “Perhaps you were suspected of being a Star reporter, Jerry.”

  “Oh, undoubtedly. I could tell that by the way folks stared at me. The only person who would have a chance to get real evidence would be someone unknown as a reporter.”

  “I wish Dad would let me try it.”

  “I don’t,” said Jerry flatly. “The Celestial Temple is no place for a little girl like you.”

  Penny did not reply as she lowered her typewriter into the cavity of the desk. She was thinking, however, that if Louise could be persuaded to accompany her, she would investigate the Celestial Temple at the first opportunity.

  “I’ll take you home,” Jerry offered as Penny reached for her hat.

  The night was a warm, mellow one in early June, marred only by dark clouds which scudded overhead, threatening rain. Deciding to walk, Penny and Jerry crossed the park to Oakdale Drive where many of Riverview’s most expensive homes had been built.

  “Doesn’t Mr. Kohl live on this street?” Penny presently asked her escort.

  “Yes,” he answered, “in a large stone apartment building. I’ll point it out when we get there.”

  They walked for a time in silence. Then Penny found herself telling about the afternoon meeting with Mr. Kohl which had led her to Kano’s Curio Shop. She spoke, too, of the silken ladder which had so aroused her speculation. Jerry listened with polite interest.

  “You and Louise shouldn’t have chased around Dorr Street alone,” he said severely. “It’s a bad district.”

  “Oh, it was safe enough, Jerry. I’d like to go back there. I can’t help being curious about that strange ladder which the old Japanese man was sewing.”

  “I doubt if there’s a story connected with it. The Japanese make any number of curious articles of silk, you know.”

  “But a ladder, Jerry! What purpose could it serve?”

  “For one thing it would be more convenient to carry than the ordinary type.”

  “One couldn’t stand it against a wall or use it in the ordinary way, Jerry. I asked the Japanese about it but he refused to answer.”

  “He may not have understood you.”

  “Oh, he understood, all right. Do you know what I think? He was afraid I might discover something which would involve him with the police!”

  “Better forget the Kano Curio Shop,” Jerry said tolerantly. “I repeat, Dorr Street is no place for you.”

  “And I’m supposed to forget the Celestial Temple, too,” grumbled Penny. “Oh, I see you grinned behind your hand! Well, Mr. Livingston, let me tell you—”

  She paused, and Jerry’s hand tightened on her own. Unmistakably, both had heard a muffled scream. The cry seemed to have come from one of several large brick and stone buildings only a short distance ahead.

  “What was that?” Penny asked in a low tone. “Someone calling for help?”

  “It sure sounded like it!” exclaimed Jerry. “Come on, Penny! Let’s find out what’s going on here!”

  CHAPTER 6


  AN APARTMENT BURGLARY

  Together Penny and Jerry ran down the street, their eyes raised to the unevenly lighted windows of the separate apartment houses. They were uncertain as to the building from which the cry had come.

  Suddenly the front door of the corner dwelling swung open, and a young woman in a maid’s uniform ran toward them.

  Jerry, ever alert for a story of interest to the Star, neatly blocked the sidewalk. Of necessity the girl halted.

  “Get a policeman, quick!” she gasped. “Mr. Kohl’s apartment has been robbed!”

  “Mr. Kohl—the banker?” demanded Penny, scarcely believing her ears.

  “Yes, yes,” the maid said in agitation. “Jewels, silverware, everything has been taken! The telephone wire was cut, too! Oh, tell me where I’ll find a policeman!”

  “I’ll get one for you,” offered Jerry.

  The information that it was Mr. Kohl’s house which had been burglarized dumbfounded Penny. As the reporter darted away to summon help, she showered questions upon the distraught maid.

  “I don’t know yet how much has been taken,” the girl told her excitedly. “The rooms look as if a cyclone had swept through them! Oh, what will the Kohls say when they learn about it?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Kohl aren’t home yet?”

  “No, they went to the theatre. They must have stopped at a restaurant afterwards. When they hear of this, I’ll lose my job.”

  “Perhaps not,” said Penny kindly. “Surely you weren’t to blame for the burglary.”

  “They’ll think so,” the maid responded gloomily.

  “I am acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Kohl. Perhaps, if I speak a good word for you it may help.”

  “I doubt it,” the girl responded. “I was supposed to have stayed at the apartment the entire evening.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “No, I went to a picture show.”

  “That does throw a different light on the matter,” commented Penny.

  “I didn’t think it would make any difference. I intended to get here ahead of the Kohls.”

  “The robbery occurred while you were away?”

  “Yes. As soon as I opened the door I knew what had happened! Oh, I’ll lose my job all right unless I can think up a good story.”