by Kin Platt
“Hi, Mr. Snowden,” I said.
He turned around. First he saw me. Then he saw the gun. Then, the Sheriff.
“Who’s Mr. Snowden?” the Sheriff asked.
“My science teacher,” I told him.
CHAPTER 40
Old Home Week
“Science and fiction,” Sheriff Landry muttered. “What a combination!”
Mr. Snowden watched as the fireplace swung shut behind him. He appeared to be listening. He tapped the mantel. “A very ingenious counterweight,” he explained to me. “I’d about given up hope of ever finding it out there. Then I happened to shift my weight on the landing step there and—presto!”
“The Ionic scroll controls it from this side,” I said pointing to the one I’d found.
“That’s interesting,” Mr. Snowden said, and bent to examine that.
“I know something interesting, too,” Sheriff Landry said. “You’re under arrest.”
“You can’t arrest Mr. Snowden, Sheriff,” I said. “He’s got nothing to do with it. Besides, can’t you see? He made it up here through the Jonah jaws!”
The Sheriff rolled his eyes dramatically and let out a big sigh. He holstered his big pistol.
“It’s okay, Mr. Snowden,” I said. “You can tell the Sheriff. He’s a friend of mine.”
I thought the Sheriff was going to cry. He called Sinbad over, and patted and thumped him for a while. Incidentally, Sinbad loves him also.
“You’re a friend of mine, too,” the Sheriff told Sinbad. “You won’t let me wind up like a dumb TV cop on this, will you?” Sinbad kissed him. “Thanks,” the Chief said. Then, still in his squatting position, he nodded to my science teacher. “Through the Jonah jaws?” he asked.
Mr. Snowden took off his mask and the air-tank cylinder. His eyes were bright and he seemed very happy. He didn’t act like a criminal suspect at all. I was sure the Sheriff would notice that.
“Through the Jonah jaws, Sheriff,” he said.
“You mean they opened?”
Mr. Snowden nodded. “Incredible. Absolutely incredible. The man was a genius with hydraulic power. A fantastic job.”
“Did the tide open them?” I asked. I was disappointed, to tell you the truth, not to have been the first one to get through the jaws.
“I’m not sure if it was a natural hinge fault in the rock that he discovered. Or one he had to design. But that cave is built on the most modern principles of dam and tunnel construction.” He looked at me. “I thought you’d be telling me about it.”
“So did I, as a matter of fact,” I said ruefully.
“Water pressure with intake portals?” the Sheriff asked. It surprised me to hear him talking like that.
Mr. Snowden nodded. “It must work that way. The tide builds up to millions of pounds in there. I’ve checked the rise and fall and there’s no other way to account for it. If it’s not a hinge fault underneath, it’s a scissors fault. Then an inclined spillway tunnel with a diversion outlet, to prevent the inner pool from flooding after the first opening bulkhead is pushed open. The diversion tunnel must have plugs that lift for the flow back when the pressure is equalized and the rock hinges back into place.” He shook his head again. “Incredible. Especially when you consider how long ago this was done.”
“Boy, that Captain Billy really was something,” I said.
Mr. Snowden nodded. “He sure was.”
Sheriff Landry interrupted our head shaking. “I hate to disagree with the science club,” he said, “but you’re both giving the wrong man the credit.”
“You mean it wasn’t Captain Billy who built it?” I said.
The Chief smiled. “Nope. A man by the name of Thomas Defoe.”
“Defoe?” I yelled.
“As my daughter Minerva might say,” the Chief said, “how does that grab you?”
Now I remembered the reporter, Defoe, telling the red-headed girl his family had had a personal stake in the Murdock house for generations. Here was another mystery.
Sheriff Landry wasn’t letting Mr. Snowden off the hook. “It seems to me, Mr. Snowden, as a science teacher you’re not setting this boy a very good example. I’ve a certain amount of tolerance for a boy’s imagination but what’s your excuse?”
Mr. Snowden went along with the Sheriff. He admitted he had no right there.
“It was an experiment. The cipher in the cave intrigued me and I was curious to see how it worked. Once inside, I found and followed the secret staircase beyond the inner pool. But again, Sheriff, having no idea where it would lead. In a way, I’m glad it was me, rather than Steve. Being disgorged through that opening, at high tide, was a nightmare. Even with scuba gear. I don’t recommend it for field study. But I’ve had a lot of experience as a swimmer and diver, so to me it was merely a calculated risk. I’ll admit to a bad example.”
“You came through the secret passageway,” the Sheriff said. “Did you meet anybody on the way? Steve says two men.”
“I’m sorry but I didn’t,” Mr. Snowden said.
I just couldn’t believe he’d lie about it. “If Captain Billy was a pirate, or even a raider,” I said, “he’d have that secret cave opening for a reason. A big room or vault down there to keep his treasure in. Otherwise what was the point in building such a tricky cave?”
Sheriff Landry looked grim and tough now as he strode to the fireplace.
“We can check that out easily enough.” He pointed to the scroll. “Okay, Steve. You told me that’s how you did it. Let’s see if you can do it again.”
I came over kind of nervous. That other time had been an accident, really, in the dark. I looked at Sinbad who really had yanked me over to it. But I had to do this one on my own. Sheriff Landry looked down at me. He took out his gun and set it off safety.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I’m betting my life that you’re right.”
That relaxed me enough to hit and slightly twist the Ionic scroll to the right, the way I’d fallen the last time. There was a rumbling noise behind the wall and another from under the floor.
“By George,” the Sheriff said. “I think he’s got it!”
The fireplace swung open.
The Sheriff gave me one of his rare smiles. “Good boy,” he said and I felt good all over. Then he stooped for the opening. But something whirled past my legs and beat him to it.
“Sinbad,” I yelled. “Come back!”
But, you know. He never listens.
Then we heard a lot of barking and shouting down there.
“Easy, Sinbad,” I heard Sheriff Landry say. “I can handle this.” Then his hollow voice sounded a lot harder. “I’m giving you men three seconds to come out of there. Otherwise I’m sealing the secret opening upstairs and you’ll rot down here.” Then he spoke to Sinbad again. “Go on upstairs to your master. This is my job.”
I heard loud barking and then scurrying steps and Sinbad popped back through the opening. He was wagging his rear end and looked very proud of himself. I wondered how the Sheriff made him mind like that. Then the fireplace moved.
“Hurry up, Sheriff. It’s closing,” I yelled.
They came up fast then. As they ducked through the opening, the Sheriff said: “I’m right behind you. Drop the guns.”
They clattered to the floor. He got out of the way of the closing fireplace just in time. He kicked the guns aside and motioned the men over to the wall. They saw the two big tough-looking cops waiting and didn’t argue.
“Are these the men?” Sheriff Landry asked me.
I nodded. The blond man looked hard at me but didn’t say anything. The Sheriff looked them both over carefully. He whistled.
“Well, Frankie,” he said. “It’s been a long, long time.”
The blond man gave him a vicious look. “What was it? A plant?”
The Sheriff shook his head. “An accident.” He looked down at me. “I don’t get that kind of cooperation.”
“They’re the same two I saw at Mrs. Teska’s,” I said.
Sheriff Landry twisted his wide thin mouth. “I know,” he said.
“The ones that came up in the Lincoln Continental,” I reminded him. “And they did break into her store, like I said. They took back the IOU note.”
“I know,” Sheriff Landry said.
He beckoned one of the burly cops over. “All right, you,” he said to the dark man. The blond man watched them go without any expression.
“So who are they?” I asked.
The Sheriff looked surprised. “You mean you haven’t been introduced?”
He waved his hand toward the blond man. “Say hello to Frankie Teska.”
CHAPTER 41
Blood Will Tell
There was a lot I wanted to find out from Mr. Snowden about how he managed to solve that tricky cipher, and how it really felt to be swept through those Jonah jaws of the cave. I took him at his word that it was all a scientific experiment.
But I’m not the Sheriff. So in a little while we were all down at the station house for further questioning. It seems there were a lot of things about this case that Sheriff Landry didn’t like. And I couldn’t blame him.
Like when Officer Clancy came back with the report that there really was a Buick Riviera in the bay. That made my story okay. But the two pro-football players insisted they’d locked the car when they parked. So the question was, who else liked to dunk their cars in water besides me?
Then, when the Sheriff was taking down our statements all over again, he had to take a phone call in his office. He came out and gave me a funny look.
“Take the phone. It’s your father.”
“Oh, boy!” I said, glad that something good was happening for a change. “Where is he?”
He gave me a special wolf look. “I guess it runs in the family.”
“What do you mean, Sheriff?”
He practically barked at me. “Go on, take the phone.”
So, naturally, my first question to dear old dad, was: “Where are you, Pop?”
And he told me. “In jail.”
“How come?” I wondered if he’d got mad and hit something else after the wall.
“Speeding,” he said. “When the phone didn’t work tonight I decided I’d better step on it.” He laughed. “That’s why I’m detained in Bridgeport. Where are you?”
“I’m in jail too,” I said. “Well, practically.”
There was a little silence for a while. Then, “Okay. What’s your excuse?”
“I found a lot of money. About a half million dollars, Sheriff Landry told me.”
“I didn’t think they’d passed any laws against finding money yet,” Pop growled.
“Well, this happened to be in the Murdock house. You know, Captain Billy’s castle.”
“Oh,” he said. “What were you doing in there?”
I didn’t want to tell him I’d practically been kidnapped. Then he’d probably get another ticket on his way to the next town. So I just told him it was a long story and I’d explain when I saw him. Whenever that was.
“Soon as I can raise five hundred dollars bail,” he grumbled. “Too bad you don’t have that half million on you. I can use a small donation.”
“It’s not really mine, Pop. Besides, I think I heard Sheriff Landry say I’m gonna be in even more trouble when the T-men come.”
“The who?” he howled.
“T-men,” I said. “From the Treasury Department in Washington. What I found is all in gold and silver.”
“I think you better let me talk to Mr. Landry again,” he said. “In the meantime you better find yourself a lawyer.”
“I know a real good one. Mr. Gideon Pickering.”
“I was only kidding,” he yelled. “Put the Sheriff on.”
Sinbad didn’t bat an eye when I told him the latest scoop. I guess he figured like the Sheriff. If he and I were in jail, why not the whole family?
CHAPTER 42
Mrs. Teska, Where Are You?
Sheriff Landry kept Sinbad and me waiting outside in the corridor while he questioned Mr. Snowden some more, and Frankie Teska and the moon-faced, dark-haired man.
When Mr. Snowden left he wasn’t in the mood for any more dopey questions from me, like about Jonah jaws or the architecture inside Captain Billy’s house.
He gave me only a short nod. “See you tomorrow morning, Steve, he said. I hoped he was right.
Sheriff Landry told me not to worry about my old man. That he’d spoken to the Lieutenant at the desk up in Bridgeport and given dad a good character reference so they waived the five hundred dollars bail.
“Too bad someone doesn’t call me and give you a good character reference,” he snorted.
“Ask Sinbad,” I told him. “He loves me.”
He looked down at Sinbad and saw the shining love light in his eyes and the wagging backside. “He loves everybody,” Sheriff Landry said between his teeth.
“Well, anyway, he was right about Frankie Teska and the other guy,” I said. “Don’t forget he was the first one to give me the idea they came to Mrs. Teska’s for money.”
“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s right.” Then he looked at me more sharply. “Any idea where she might be now?”
“Home,” I said. “Where else?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to get her on the phone. To see if she intends pressing charges against Frankie. But there’s no answer.
“How about the store?”
“Same thing,” he said.
“What kind of charges would she have to press, Sheriff?”
“Extortion,” he said shortly. “What else?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Obtaining money by threats, force, fraud, or illegal use of authority.”
“Well,” I said. “At least you don’t have that one for me, Sheriff.”
“That’s right,” he admitted. “The trouble is the charges against you are worse.”
That made me feel great all over. “How do you figure that?”
He glanced up at the big clock. “I don’t have time to explain now. Come on. I’m taking you and Sinbad home.”
“Great,” I said. “I thought we were going to wind up in jail.”
His smile wasn’t the happy kind. “It wasn’t such a bad guess. I’m taking you to my house. Not yours.”
On the way out to his car I said Sinbad and me weren’t worried about being alone.
“I know you’re not but I am,” he said. He opened the door of his squad car. “Come on. Get in.”
So we got in. Sinbad loves cars and he loves Sheriff Landry so he sat in the middle where he could rest his big head on the Sheriff’s arm. He didn’t care that it had to be used for steering. And I guess the Sheriff didn’t mind either because he didn’t act the least bit annoyed.
“So how come we’re going to your house?” I asked as we roared down the side street away from the station house.
“Let’s say I’ll feel better about it,” he said. “That way I know you two characters won’t get into any more trouble tonight.”
I felt he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I was right. There was more to this mystery than I thought.
I guess the Sheriff was anxious to get home because he was way over the speed limit heading out Steamboat Road. His house is at the end, near the point. We’re a few blocks before that. So is Mrs. Teska.
At her place he jammed on the brake and brought the car to a squealing stop.
“I’m just going up to take a look,” he said, hopping out of the car. “You and Sinbad wait here.”
“You’re parked on the wrong side of the street, Sheriff.”
He sighed like he’d suffered a lot lately. “I know,” he said. “Remind me when I come out so I can give myself a ticket.”
Then he ran up the stairs. I knew right away it wasn’t a social call he was paying Mrs. Teska. He didn’t need to have his gun out for that.
The lights were on in her apartment, as they usually are when she’s h
ome. But she wasn’t home tonight. Because in a little while the door up there slammed, and the Sheriff came down the steps, troubled that she wasn’t there.
I said, “There’s something wrong about the store, too.”
“What?”
I pointed to the door. “The little blue card always says closed when she’s finished for the day,” I said. “It still says open.”
I ran for the spot where she keeps the key and let the Sheriff in. I put the lights on and he looked around. Nothing seemed wrong or out of place. He took a look in the back room with Sinbad. Then the Sheriff came out.
“Let’s go,” he said. “She’s not here.”
“Okay, Sinbad,” I yelled. “Let’s go.”
His dark face poked out from behind the curtains. He took a step forward, made the parrot sound, and cocked his head up at me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
He made the sound again. Then a deeper growl and he ducked back inside.
“Something’s wrong in there. Sheriff,” I said. “Sinbad never kids about those things. I think he’s found a clue.”
The Sheriff scratched his head. Then he looked down at me with that scathing look. “I thought my kid had imagination. I can see now I’m talking to the champ.” He turned his head and roared. “Sinbad! Come on out of there! Let’s go!”
The green curtains parted almost immediately, and Sinbad came trotting out. The Sheriff gave me that twisted smile. “Some detective,” he said. Then he leaned down to pat Sinbad. But he got a big surprise. Sinbad pulled his head away and growled.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked Sinbad, looking hurt.
Sinbad’s lower tooth was hooked outside his upper lip. His eyes were shining a baleful green. The deep growl rumbling in his chest made the Sheriff straighten up. He looked at me inquiringly.