The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  “Oh, Dad! Will you go with me tomorrow?”

  “Perhaps,” he promised vaguely. “We’ll see, when the time comes. I foresee any number of troubles far more serious than our concern with the Rhett family.”

  “With both of you against me, I’m only wasting my breath,” Mrs. Weems sighed, drawing her robe tightly about her. “I may as well go to bed.”

  Penny put the black packet on the dresser after her father had finished inspecting it. “I intend to wear this charm around my neck the next time I go to the Rhetts’,” she declared. “It will be fun to see how Celeste and Antón react.”

  “Don’t carry your fun too far,” her father advised. “While it’s true this charm has no significance or supernatural power, Antón and Celeste may be dangerous characters. They’ll bear watching.”

  “And I’m the one to do it,” Penny chuckled. “I’m not a bit afraid of them, Dad. As you said, they’re a couple of bluffers.”

  “I may have used the word ill-advisedly,” the publisher corrected. “Don’t make the mistake of underrating them. The case, as you well know, has sinister aspects.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Penny promised soberly.

  After her father had returned to his room, she went back to bed. A chill wind whistled in through the hole in the window, but she burrowed deep beneath the blankets and soon was sound asleep.

  Next morning, as Mr. Parker had predicted, newspapers carried screaming headlines, announcing that the hurricane might reach Riverview by nightfall. Householders were advised to take every precaution to protect life and property.

  School opened and was promptly dismissed at nine o’clock. At home, Penny helped Mrs. Weems carry in the porch awning, remove the shutters and all loose objects which were likely to be torn free by the wind.

  By now, papers were blowing wildly, cluttering the yard. Each gust brought sticks or small limbs crashing down into the street.

  Mrs. Weems, hovering near the radio to hear the last-minute reports, declared that the barometer continued to fall.

  “The storm is steadily getting worse,” she said nervously.

  After lunch, Penny went to the newspaper office to inquire if Mr. DeWitt had any special assignment for her.

  “Nothing right now,” he said, rapidly scanning a page of copy. “But stick around. Anything may break.”

  Penny waited, growing increasingly restless. She was certain DeWitt had forgotten all about her, when he slammed down a telephone receiver and glanced in her direction.

  “Go out on the street and see what’s doing,” he ordered. “Might check the police station, too, on your way in.”

  Penny nodded and went out through the barrier gate. The feel of the approaching hurricane was in the air. Walking toward the river, she saw blue-green water boiling into sinister white foam where it vaulted onto the docks.

  Pedestrians were few in number and all hurrying. Business was at a standstill. Shutters were going up over plate glass windows, and street signs were being taken down.

  Penny wandered about for a time and then, as a fine rain began to fall, sought the police station. Checking routine reports, she noted four injury cases caused by flying objects, several thefts of property, and more than the usual number of automobile accidents.

  At the office once more, she wrote an impressionist account of what she had seen, then waited for another assignment.

  “Penny, you may as well go home while you can get there,” DeWitt said presently. “City Traction is shutting off service at six o’clock, and after that you won’t be able to take a bus.”

  At another time Penny might have been disappointed to be sent home when exciting news was breaking, but dismissal now fitted neatly into her plans. She was determined to make one last investigation of the thatched roof cottage at the Rhett mansion. However, to beat the storm, she must move fast.

  Going out the door, Penny met Jerry who had just come in from the river front. His felt hat was dripping wet.

  “It’s getting nasty outside,” he remarked. “How are you going home, Penny? By bus?”

  “Eventually, but not just now,” she grinned. “First, I have a little errand at the Rhetts’.”

  “Better skip it,” he advised. “This storm is the real McCoy.”

  “Can’t afford to, Jerry. I want to look over that thatched cottage once more. If I don’t do it now, it probably won’t be there by tomorrow.”

  “If you’re set on going out there, better make it a speedy trip,” Jerry returned. “The storm is rolling in fast.”

  Reaching the mansion twenty minutes later, Penny was surprised to see an unfamiliar automobile parked on the Rhett driveway. As she went up the front walk, the door opened, and three men came outside. Without noticing the girl, they entered the car and drove away.

  “Wonder who they are and what brought them here?” Penny mused.

  In response to her knock, Celeste opened the door. Seeing Penny, the woman tried to close it in her face, but the girl pushed boldly past her into the hallway.

  Penny purposely had worn the black packet on a string around her neck. While Celeste was closing the door, she pulled it from her dress front, and then opened her raincoat so that the housekeeper could not fail to see the object.

  Celeste’s eyes instantly riveted upon the dangling packet.

  “My good luck charm!” said Penny. “Someone gave it to me last night!”

  Celeste’s lips dropped apart to show her uneven teeth.

  “It is an evil packet!” she hissed. “If you wear it, sickness and death will pursue you!”

  “Not this cookie,” chuckled Penny. “You see, I don’t believe such nonsense. Whoever tossed this thing through my window went to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

  Celeste’s face, an interesting study in mixed emotions, suddenly became a blank mask. Hearing footsteps, the woman mumbled something and scurried away.

  Lorinda came down the stairway. “Oh, Penny!” she exclaimed, grasping her hand. “I’m so glad you came! We’re in such trouble!”

  “Your mother is worse?”

  “Yes, she is failing rapidly, and the visit of those three bankers upset her dreadfully.”

  “The men I met on the walk?”

  “Yes, they’re members of the First National Bank board. They told Mother she must make up the $250,000 bond loss within forty-eight hours, or my stepfather will be exposed as a thief, and the estate sued! It seems Mr. Potts convinced them my stepfather had the bonds when he disappeared.”

  “What will your mother do?”

  “What can she do? Nearly all of her property is in real estate. She might be able to raise $30,000 cash within the required time, but never the amount they demand.”

  “You’ve heard nothing from your stepfather?”

  “Not a word. The police haven’t contributed any worthwhile clues either. They didn’t go deeply into the case.”

  “Can you blame them? You and your mother withheld facts and discouraged them at every turn.”

  “I know.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I thought you understood,” Lorinda answered in a low voice. “Mother and my stepfather quarreled violently on that last day at the bank. She didn’t want the truth to get out, so she tried to keep from answering questions.”

  “Then your stepfather disappeared as a result of the quarrel?”

  “I don’t know. It is a possibility.”

  “You believe your stepfather may have stolen the bonds?”

  “Oh, no! Never! He may have had them on his person when he went away or was spirited off, but I am sure he is no thief!”

  Shutters were flapping in the wind. The porch furniture had not been brought into the house, and through the window, Penny saw that many loose, breakable objects remained in the garden. Abruptly changing the subject, she said:

  “Lorinda, the storm is getting worse every minute. Can’t we bring in the porch furniture?”

  “I told Antón to do it ear
ly this morning. He went off somewhere. Celeste has been no help either. They’re both acting so independent.”

  “We don’t need their help. Come! We can do it together.”

  Lorinda put on her rain cape and they went out onto the porch. Already the rug was rain soaked. They rolled it up and carried it to the basement, where they also took the furniture. Deciding it was too late to do anything about nailing down the shutters or taking them off, they brought in loose objects from the yard.

  In passing the library, Penny noticed that a window was open. The curtain was drenched and rain was pouring in upon the floor.

  With a cry of dismay, she ran to close it. As she turned around, she saw at once that the wall safe was exposed to view, and open.

  “Lorinda!” she called.

  Her friend came quickly to the doorway. “Anything wrong?” she inquired.

  Penny directed her gaze toward the safe. “Did you leave it open?” she asked.

  “No!” With a startled exclamation, Lorinda darted across the room. She thrust her arm into the circular opening, and withdrew it empty.

  “The Zudi drum is gone!” she announced. “It’s been stolen!”

  CHAPTER 20

  TWELVE STEPS DOWN

  The news did not astonish Penny for she had anticipated it. She said quietly:

  “Lorinda, surely now you’ll call in the police? The Zudi drum must be a very valuable trophy.”

  “It is. Yes, I suppose the only thing to do is notify police headquarters.”

  Lorinda went to a telephone, but although she tried many times, she was unable to contact the operator. “The line must be down,” she reported. “The wire sounds dead.”

  “Then we’re isolated here until after the storm. Lorinda, why don’t you question Celeste and Antón?”

  “It would be useless.”

  “Let me do it.”

  “Go ahead, but they’ll not tell you anything,” Lorinda said despairingly. “Antón and Celeste have been interested in the Zudi drum ever since they came here, but I’ve never known them to steal.”

  “Did they know the safe combination?”

  “Not unless they learned it the last few days. I noticed that Celeste watches lately whenever anyone enters or leaves the library.”

  “Then she may have obtained the combination. I know she was tampering with the dial yesterday. Where is she now?”

  “In the kitchen, I suppose.”

  Celeste, however, was not to be found there, nor was she in any of the upstairs bedrooms, or in her own room on the first floor adjoining the garage.

  “I don’t know where she and Antón went,” Lorinda declared, deeply troubled. “I hate to accuse them without proof, but it does look as if they’re the only ones who could have stolen the drum!”

  “How about the trophies at the thatched roof cottage? Are they safe?”

  “Let’s find out,” Lorinda proposed. “Wait, I’ll get the key. Incidentally, it was mysteriously returned to my stepfather’s room yesterday.”

  She returned with the key in a moment, and the girls ran down the slippery path through the falling rain. The whine of a steadily rising wind was in their ears as they opened the cottage door and stepped inside.

  Lorinda looked carefully about. “Everything seems to be here—” she began, only to correct herself. “No, the crossed machetes which were on the wall! They’re gone!”

  “And the rattle!” exclaimed Penny. “Where is it?”

  Lorinda pulled out the wooden chest and raised the lid. “The altar cloth is missing and any number of things! Almost everything has been taken!”

  In the midst of checking over the few remaining objects in the chest, Lorinda suddenly raised her head.

  “Listen!” she commanded.

  At first, Penny could distinguish only the whistle of the wind, then she became aware of a low rumbling murmur which seemed to come from the very walls of the cottage.

  “It’s a chant!” whispered Lorinda. “I can hear drums too, as if from a long distance away!”

  A little frightened, neither girl spoke for a while. The strange sound died away, then was resumed. This time they distinctly could hear the thumping of drums.

  Penny went to the door of the cottage to listen. Outside there was only the whine of the wind and the crashing of tree branches.

  “Lorinda, this cottage must have a secret passage!” she declared excitedly. “I thought so before, and now I’m certain of it!”

  Already Lorinda was down on hands and knees before the fireplace, tapping the tiles. They gave forth a hollow sound. However, she could find no opening.

  Penny removed a huge black kettle from hanging chains, and peered up into the chimney. Her groping hand encountered a rod which she assumed controlled the draft. She pulled on it.

  The floor beneath her feet suddenly gave way, and she would have pitched through the opening had not Lorinda seized her arms and held her.

  Scrambling back to solid flooring, Penny peered down into the dark opening where the hearth had been. The tiles were only a sham, she saw now, fastened to a hinged rectangle of wood, which had fallen back like a trap door.

  Steep stone steps led down into inky darkness.

  “Why, I never dreamed this was here!” Lorinda whispered. “It must have been built that summer Mother and I were away!”

  The sound of drums and incantations came plainly now. Neither Penny nor Lorinda was eager to investigate the passage. They feared that they might encounter something with which they would be unable to cope. But to retreat was equally unthinkable.

  Penny found the cocoanut shell lamp and lit the floating wick. Moving ahead, she cautiously descended the stone steps. Lorinda kept close beside her.

  Twelve steps led almost straight down. There the girls found themselves in a bricked-over passageway, so narrow they could barely squeeze through. However, after they had gone a few yards, it widened a little.

  “Where do you suppose this leads?” Penny whispered. “To the river?”

  “Probably. It seems to me the sound of the drums came from that direction.”

  The weird noises no longer could be heard and the silence disturbed the girls. Could it be that in entering the tunnel they had revealed their presence? Nervous and tense, they moved forward at a snail’s pace, feeling their way along the wall and taking care to make no betraying sound.

  The tunnel led downhill. In places the roof was so low the girls were forced to bend double to pass through. The walls were damp and crumbly and, at points near the roof, water dripped steadily.

  Then presently Penny halted, shifting the lamp to her other hand. The passage had widened into a tiny room from which two tunnels branched.

  “Which shall we take?” she asked Lorinda.

  They selected the wider of the two, which soon proved a deception. Scarcely had they left the little dugout than it narrowed until they were barely able to edge through.

  “Shall we turn back and try the other?” Penny suggested.

  Lorinda wanted to keep on. “We’re moving uphill now,” she pointed out. “I suspect this must lead either to the house or the road.”

  Her guess proved to be correct. Another twenty yards and the tunnel terminated abruptly in front of a door. It opened readily. A dozen roughly carved steps led upward to a trap door. Penny pushed it aside and blinking owlishly, climbed out into a bedroom.

  She saw then that the trap door had been cut in the center of the room floor, hidden from view by a large rag rug which now lay in an untidy heap.

  “Why, we’re in Celeste’s room!” Lorinda exclaimed as she too emerged. “Adjoining the garage!”

  “This explains quite a few things to me,” remarked Penny.

  “And to me! Celeste must have known about this passage all the time, but she never hinted of it to Mother or me!”

  “If you ask my opinion, Celeste not only has known about the passage, she’s been using it regularly,” declared Penny, gazing curiously about t
he room.

  The bed had been carelessly made, and a red bandana handkerchief had been left hanging on one of the wooden posts. On the dresser were a number of objects which drew the girls’ attention. From the pin tray Penny picked up a tiny black feather and there were strips of torn black cloth which exactly matched the packet she wore about her neck.

  “This proves it!” she exclaimed. “Celeste made the evil charm which was thrown through my window last night!”

  “Charm?” Lorinda inquired. “Penny, what are you talking about?”

  Penny showed her the packet and explained how it had been hurled through the window pane. “I’m sure Celeste had Antón do it or perhaps she tossed it herself. At any rate, she made the packet to frighten me, only it didn’t work.”

  “Unless Celeste can explain matters satisfactorily, I’ll turn her over to the police!” Lorinda said angrily.

  “Finding her may not be so easy now. Also getting her into police custody may take a little doing. I’m afraid we’ve waited too long, Lorinda.”

  “No, we’ll find her!” Lorinda announced with determination. “After all, she doesn’t know how much we have learned. Let’s investigate the other passageway.”

  “All right,” Penny agreed, “but this lamp isn’t much good. We need a flashlight.”

  “I have one in my room. I’ll get it, see if Mother is all right, and be right back.”

  Lorinda was gone less than five minutes. “Mother is sleeping, so it’s safe to leave her,” she reported. “Here’s the flash, but I couldn’t find an extra battery.”

  Descending into the passageway, the girls retraced their steps to the tiny dugout midway between the thatched roof cottage and the mansion. As they entered the other tunnel, they again heard the throb of jungle drums, and the weird incantation of many guttural voices.

  “A chant to the Serpent God!” whispered Lorinda. “Do you hear that high-pitched drum which sounds above the others?”

  Penny nodded as she moved forward in the dark, narrow passage.

  “It is the Zudi,” Lorinda added. “I would know its tone anywhere! We must recover it, but if what I think is so, it will be a dangerous task!”