by Mark Zahn
Suddenly, a hand shoved him roughly in the back, and with a yelp, Pete went sprawling head first into the darkness!
The athletic Second Investigator prided himself on his agility and he carefully broke his fall – landing on the smooth stone tiles while turning his body so he could see who his assailant was. But what he saw made his skin break out in a fresh case of goose pimples!
Just before the ancient door slammed closed, engulfing him in complete and utter darkness, Pete Crenshaw caught a brief glimpse of a glowing woman in a Victorian dress holding a noose in her hand!
S .O.S.
BOB ANDREWS PULLED his jacket over his head and grumbled. What had started out as a fine mist an hour before had eventually turned into a light rain, and now threatened to become a full-fledged downpour.
Still Jebediah O’Connell puttered around the grounds, now with a large umbrella over his head, stopping here and there to look closer at something or poking his cane about. Bob wondered if Pete was having more fun inside. At least he was dry, the studious boy thought to himself.
Bob looked at his watch. It was well past lunch-time, but his growling stomach could have told him that. Bob contemplated calling off the surveillance of Jebediah so he could go inside and dry off and get something to eat. No, Jupe would never stand for that, he thought. Better to keep prowling around the woods, following Cousin Jeb as he walked endlessly in the rain.
The small boy shivered and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. He resigned himself to the fact that he would just have to remain cold, hungry, and generally miserable until Jupe and Ben returned from London.
Luckily for Bob, he had only to wait another hour before he could come in from the cold. From his vantage point in the trees, Bob saw Benjamin O’Connell’s silver car, now with the top up, come speeding up the circular drive and skid to a halt. Careful not to be seen by Jebediah, he skirted around the side of the house to meet his friends.
“Any luck?” he asked.
Jupe held up a small paper sack in his hand as they raced inside. “They let us listen to it at the store,” he said. “But I bought it anyway, just in case.”
As the boys stripped off their wet jackets, Patricia O’Connell came into the hallway looking worried.
“I’m so glad you’re back, boys,” she said.
Ben noticed something was bothering his aunt and he looked alarmed. “What’s wrong, Aunt Patty? Has something happened?”
The pretty lady smiled and looked slightly embarrassed. “No, no, nothing happened,” she said. “It’s just that...well, I’ve been hearing things in the house since you’ve been gone.”
“Do you mean the ghost, ma’am?” asked Bob with excitement.
“Oh no!” she said, forcing nervous laughter. “I’m sure it’s nothing like that. I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve been in this big house all alone and...heavens, I don’t know where the Fitchhorns are, and I haven’t seen Cousin Jeb for hours! I tried to take a nap, but then I kept hearing those strange noises.”
“Your Cousin Jeb is out in the garden,” Bob informed her. “He’s been out there for hours.”
Jupiter rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. “Could you show us where you were the last time you heard the noises?”
“In the kitchen,” she said.
The boys followed her there and then stood very still, listening in earnest for the mysterious, ghostly sounds.
She looked more embarrassed than ever. “I heard the strangest tapping noises – like in the pipes – and I even swore I heard a voice a couple of times.” She looked sheepishly at the boys. “Well, whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
Jupe smiled at her. “We were just about to have a meeting, why don’t you come with us,” he suggested, hoping to put her at ease. “Is there someplace private where we can talk?”
“In the library,” she said. “This way.”
The library turned out to be a huge, dimly lit room full of books and shadows. The volume-lined walls seemed to go up forever, finally ending at an impressive vaulted ceiling. The faint smell of old, musty paper lingered in the air and made the boys think of the public library back in Rocky Beach, where Bob held his part-time job.
An enormous globe rested in one corner of the room, and a tall ladder on wheels allowed books to be shelved around three of the walls. In one corner of the room there were no books. This is where huge, stained-glass windows made an elaborate, somewhat spooky picture of a knight in blue armor astride a black charger with glowing ruby eyes. A piece of glass toward the bottom of the window, shaped to look like a scroll of paper, had the words: KNIGHT TEMPLAR in ancient English letters.
Patricia drew aside thick velvet curtains to let some light into the gloomy space, revealing the intimidating glass.
Bob whistled. “I’d hate to clean those windows. That knight is looking right at us.”
“And that horse isn’t any friendlier,” added Ben with a shiver.
“I think we’re very close to solving the riddle,” interrupted Jupe. “But we’ll have to move quickly. It would appear that another party in this house wants to locate the treasure just as badly.”
“I take it that was the meaning of your wink earlier,” Patricia said wisely. “Do you have any idea who it might be, Jupiter?”
Jupe peered out one of the sections of clear glass at the gathering storm clouds that were approaching. From his vantage point he could see the garden with the sundial and Jebediah at the far end. “What do you know about the Fitchhorns, Mrs. O’Connell?” he asked. “For that matter, what do you know about your Cousin Jebediah?”
Patricia sat in an oversized leather armchair and sighed, rubbing her forehead again. “The Fitchhorns first arrived here with some shady lawyer while I was at the reading of my father’s will in Hollywood. They showed some papers to Julia and claimed that they proved they were related and entitled to a share of the estate. Well, I kind of figured that my father’s death would bring all sorts of kooks out of the woodwork, so I didn’t think too much about it. Heaven knows I had enough on my mind as it was, so I told Julia to let them stay until I got here. I guess I was hoping they would lose interest and eventually leave.”
“And what about your cousin?” Jupiter prodded.
Patricia sighed. “Jebediah is a strange bird to say the least. He seems honest enough. He took an early retirement because of his leg and helps out around the house as a groundskeeper. I let him stay free of charge as his payment. He seems quite content with the arrangement – but at times he’ll grow sullen and withdrawn, a virtual recluse. He’ll disappear for days and not tell a soul where he’s been.”
There was a soft knock on the door, and Winston entered holding a tray. “I thought you might like some tea, madam.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Winston,” smiled Patricia. “The boys were just saying they think they might have solved the puzzle.”
“Splendid! Do all American boys show such ingenuity?” Winston beamed. “But I say, were there not three of you?”
“Gosh, that’s right!” Bob exclaimed. “Pete’s been gone for hours!”
Jupiter looked alarmed. “You mean you haven’t seen him since Ben and I left for London?”
“Not since we split up,” answered Bob.
“Perhaps we should search for Master Pete,” volunteered Winston. “He may have become lost somewhere on the grounds. They are quite large – a person could get lost for days out in the woods!”
Jupiter was about to suggest splitting up to look for Pete when he stopped in his tracks. “Wait a minute,” he hissed. “Listen!”
The group in the library stood very still and waited in silence for a tense moment.
“I’m afraid I do not hear anything, Master Jupiter,” Winston said finally. “It will be dark soon. If Master Pete is in the woods...”
“Wait...Shhh!” he whispered again. “Did you hear that?”
The group listened again. This time, very faintly, they could just make out a tapp
ing sound that seemed to be coming from the floor.
“By jove, I do hear it!” cried Ben. “It sounds like someone banging on a pipe.”
“That’s the sound I heard!” said Patricia.
“It’s an S.O.S. signal!” Bob exclaimed. “It must be Pete trying to signal us!”
“Where could Pete get access to the pipes?” Jupiter asked quickly.
“Why, in the cellar!” Winston cried. “Follow me, lads!”
The lanky butler nearly ran out of the library, with the boys and Patricia close at his heels. He led them to the pantry where he tore open the door and the group clattered down the stone steps. Winston fished around in the dark until he found a string to the single light-bulb at the bottom of the steps. When he clicked it on, the boys could see a complex network of pipes running along the low ceiling – it seemed impossible to tell which one Pete was banging on!
“The banging is louder now,” said Jupiter.
“This way!” commanded Winston. The tall man in the tuxedo navigated the enormous cellar like an expert, down row after row of wine bottles until he finally arrived at a door. With one swift motion he undid a large bolt lock and threw open the heavy door with a screeching of hinges.
On the other side of the door was Pete Crenshaw – holding a lead pipe like a baseball bat. His eyes were closed and he came out swinging, nearly bringing the pipe down on Winston’s head! “You’re not going to get me, ghost!” he was shouting.
Jupiter lunged for Pete’s wrists and grabbed them before he could bring the pipe down on Winston’s skull. “Pete!” he cried. “Pete, it’s us!”
The strong Second Investigator blinked several times before relaxing his grip on the bar. “Boy, am I glad to see you!” he said weakly.
Jupe took the pipe from Pete’s hands and threw it back into the room. “What happened?” he asked. “How did you get locked in?”
“Get me into some nice warm sunlight and I’ll tell you all about it.” Pete said.
They led their tired friend back to the cellar steps, but Jupiter paused at the bottom with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“What’s wrong, First?” Bob asked.
“This is no time for deductions,” Pete moaned. “I’ve got to eat something before I keel over from starvation!”
“Okay,” Jupe agreed. “I guess you’re right.”
The party headed upstairs and reconvened in the library. Winston bustled to the kitchen and returned with a silver platter brimming with thick ham and cheese sandwiches and orange soda.
“You’ll have to bring another tray for everyone else!” Pete joked as he tore into a sandwich. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast!”
“While Pete’s fending off starvation,” said Jupiter, taking a large bite of his own sandwich, “Ben and I will tell you what we learned from the jukebox record. Afterwards, Pete can tell us how he ended up locked in the cellar.”
“That reminds me, madam,” said Winston. “I meant to tell you that the door to the projection room has been tampered with. I have repaired the lock, but you might take an inventory of the memorabilia.” He cleared his throat and looked somewhat embarrassed. “I know it is not my place to say, but I feel I should inform you that I observed Mr. Fitchhorn lurking about upstairs,” he added as an afterthought.
“Thank you, Winston,” said Patricia. “I think the Fitchhorns have overstayed their welcome,” she declared. “It’s high time they were on their way. And they certainly are not getting a penny of my father’s money!”
“We’ll get what’s rightfully ours,” boomed a voice from the doorway.
Clocks And More Clocks
“THE FITCHHORNS!” CRIED Pete. “We can’t tell the clue from the record now!”
The round man took a menacing step into the library, followed closely by his sparrow wife. “You have another clue?” he asked Jupiter. “What is it, boy? Speak up!”
“Don’t do it, Jupe!” Bob said hotly. “They broke into the projection room and stole the record – and now they can’t figure out the clue!”
“We did no such thing, young man!” Stella Fitchhorn screeched in a nasally voice. “The nerve of young people these days!” As if to emphasize her point, she produced a handkerchief and honked her beak-like nose mightily.
Timothy Fitchhorn glared at his wife. “I told you to let me do the talking,” he growled. “Now then. You might as well come out with it, boy. If we all worked together we could probably crack old Hitch’s riddle tonight!”
“I am highly dubious of this man’s honesty, madam,” declared Winston. “I suspect he intends to take the treasure for himself once it is found.”
“Listen, you glorified waiter,” Mr. Fitchhorn threatened, “you’re paid to be a servant, not a consultant. You’d mind your own business if you knew what was good for you!”
“That’s enough!” Patricia shouted. Bob saw she was shaking and looked close to tears. “Jupiter, tell us what you’ve learned and we’ll all look together. That way no one can claim ownership of whatever it is my father has hidden.”
Suddenly another voice spoke from the doorway. “I heard shouting,” said Jebediah. “Are ye having a party and not inviting old Jebediah?”
“I’m glad you’re here,” said Jupiter Jones. “Now that we’re all together we can discuss Mr. Hichcocke’s final clue.”
“Aye, more of that nonsense,” Cousin Jeb sneered. “You can keep my share of the fortune for all I care. ‘Tis probably fool’s gold knowing Mr. Hichcocke’s humor.”
“You all heard what he said!” howled Mrs. Fitchhorn, “he gave up his share!”
“Quiet you!” snapped Timothy Fitchhorn. “Okay, boy, what’s the last clue from the record?”
“Jupe, are you sure about this?” asked Pete.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Aunt Patty,” Ben said under his breath.
Jupiter stood in front of the menacing stained glass window, hands on his hips. “This is a big house,” he said finally. “But not big enough that one’s actions can go undetected for very long. Rather than have everyone sneaking around the estate, we might as well all work together.”
Timothy Fitchhorn rubbed his hands together in excitement. “A wise decision, sonny,” he crooned. “Now what did the record say?”
Jupiter drew himself up to his full height – he couldn’t help being a showman, it was in his blood. “The second verse of the song ‘Hidden Treasures’ by Denny Lynds and the Gail Force Winds says:
*
“Time has stood still without you,
I’m like Adam without an Eve,
I’ll go on searching the universe,
Until I’ve buried what I grieve.”
*
Timothy Fitchhorns eyes gleamed with excitement. “I’ll bet the reference to time standing still means a clock that no longer works!” he exclaimed, mopping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “There must be one somewhere in this house!”
Ben jumped up. “Aunt Patty, do you know of any clocks that don’t work?”
“There must be dozens of clocks in this house,” she said in exasperation, “there might be several that don’t work anymore…”
“We’ll have to check them one by one,” Jupiter declared. “And we’ll have to check them together. It’s the only way.”
“A fine idea, boy,” Mr. Fitchhorn agreed, plastering his hair into place with the palm of his beefy hand. “Let’s start by checking the grandfather clock in here!”
The treasure hunters crowded around the large clock in the library while Winston and Pete carefully examined it.
“It looks on time to me,” said Pete. “I guess this is the wrong clock.”
“To the next room!” Mr. Fitchhorn exclaimed with gusto.
One by one, the search party checked each and every clock in the house. It was quite late by the time they arrived in the billiard room on the second floor, the only room they hadn’t checked. They were all frustrated at their lack of success.
“There are two clocks in this room,” said Bob. “One on the wall and another grandfather clock.”
The large grandfather clocked began to chime, indicating it was now midnight, as Bob and Ben took the smaller clock off the wall. When the grandfather had finished its last stroke, Jupiter sat up as if something had bit him. He faced the old timepiece.
“Hey,” said Pete, “what’s got into you?”
Jupiter quickly strode over to the clock and began examining it with his fingers. “Give me a hand with this, Pete,” he said.
The group had noticed the stocky boy’s excitement and crowded around the big clock.
“Have you found something, Jupiter?” Ben asked eagerly.
“Remember, we’re entitled!” Stella Fitchhorn reminded everyone.
“Not another word!” her husband warned.
“Unless there is a new hour called ‘thirteen o’clock,’” said Jupiter over his shoulder, “I think our treasure is behind this grandfather clock!”
“Wow!” said Bob. “I didn’t even notice that it had chimed thirteen times!”
Jupiter had now opened the glass door that allowed one to pull the brass weights that kept the clock running. His probing fingers finally fell upon a button far in the back.
“Jackpot!” he cried. His pudgy finger pushed the button and there was an audible ‘snick’ of a lock opening. The entire clock moved a few inches forward. “It’s on hinges!” Jupiter said in amazement. “What a piece of work. The entire clock is hung on a steel frame imbedded in the wall!”
The stout First Investigator swung the clock-door open, revealing a small room no bigger than a closet. The brick-lined space was bare except for a pedestal against the far wall on which sat a white marble bust of Alphred Hichcocke, similar to the one the boys had in their headquarters.
Underneath the bust was an envelope sealed with wax with:
*
“???”