”I know of only one friend in town. I could call her, I guess.”
”Fine,” he said. ”You do that. Good even-—”
”Oh, Sergeant, as long as I’m talking to you—” Trixie paused, cringing at the thought of his next reaction—”I wanted to report something else. Uh, I’d like to report, er, a shark in the Hudson just off Killifish Point.”
There followed such a long silence that Trixie thought the phone had gone dead. ”H-Hello?” she stammered.
”I knew I should have hung up the phone,” said the sergeant distantly, as if he were talking to someone besides Trixie. ”We get the looniest calls on Halloween—”
”This isn’t a trick!” cried Trixie. ”And I’m not loony—just ask Honey Wheeler! She’s seen it once, and I’ve seen it twice.”
”I’m surprised you haven’t harpooned it already,” he said sarcastically.
”Sergeant Molinson,” she said, mustering all the dignity she possessed, ”I am trying to make a serious report.”
”Come off it, Miss Belden! You know and I know that there aren’t any sharks in this stretch of the river.”
”That’s what I thought, too—until I saw it for the second time today!”
”And you know and I know,” he went on, ”that you have a very vivid imagination. ’Fertile,’ I think, would be a good word for it.”
”Sergeant!”
”Oh, very well. I’ll make a note of it, and I’ll stick that in with your other note until I decide what course of action to take. In the meantime, if you think of anything else I should make a note about, please save it till tomorrow. Halloween tends to be a very busy night here at the station. Now, good night!”
The phone clicked in Trixie’s ear. She placed her cool hands on her hot cheeks and made a concerted effort not to scream with frustration. Then she pulled the Wheelers’ phone book out of its stand and looked up Loyola’s number.
It turned out that Loyola had had dinner plans with Thea that night, but that Thea had canceled out.
”It’s just as well,” Loyola said. ”I have a lot of studying to catch up on tonight.”
Trixie suppressed a shocked exclamation at the repulsive notion of studying on a Friday night. ”Did Thea say why she couldn’t meet you?”
”Well, yes, as a matter of fact. She said she had some last-minute things to check on at the river, and then she was leaving Sleepyside tonight.” Loyola’s voice sounded puzzled and disappointed. ”She seemed to be in kind of a hurry to get out of town. She wouldn’t answer me when I asked her why.”
”How mysterious,” Trixie mused.
”Well, I don’t care anymore. Frankly, I think that our friendship—what there was of it—is over. She’s been very standoffish ever since she got back to Sleepyside. I don’t think she wants to have anything to do with me anymore.”
Just then, Honey appeared in front of Trixie to make vigorous waving motions, which made her appearance even more comical.
”I’ve got to go, Loyola,” Trixie said hastily.
”Happy Halloween, or rather, happy studying!” After hanging up the phone, Trixie faced Honey and said gaily, ”Shall we depart, Boney Treeler?”
”I—I beg your pardon?”
”It’s a spoonerism,” Trixie said proudly, then added, ”sort of. We’re so mixed-up now—I mean, our clothes are so mixed-up now—that our names might as well be, too. Let’s see, that makes me, um... Whixie Helden!”
”Yes, let’s depart,” said Honey, dragging Trixie down the stairs, ”before you get any cleverer. Cleverer? More clever? Come on!”
”Shouldn’t we wait for Jim?”
”He left ages ago. Here, grab this hamper, will you?”
Dusk was falling as the two girls left Manor House. The full moon cast eerie shadows over the familiar Wheeler estate.
”We need flashlights,” Trixie decided. ”There’re a couple of good ones in our tool shed,” said Honey. She disappeared and returned seconds later with the lights.
As they made their way down the path to the clubhouse, Trixie filled Honey in on her two phone calls. She had to pause every few minutes to maintain her balancing act of holding up Honey’s skirt so she wouldn’t trip, aiming the flashlight accurately, and grasping the picnic hamper without spilling its contents.
”We’ll never get there at this rate,” complained Honey.
”I’m doing the best I can, Honey. Anyway, I’m getting more and more suspicious about Thea. I think she’s up to something down there by the river.”
”You haven’t any evidence for saying that!”
”You sound like the sergeant. And I do, too, have evidence. Well, let’s put it this way: I have a hunch, and as you very well know, sometimes my hunches—”
”Can we talk about this later?” Honey pleaded. ”I can’t really concentrate on—” A sharp intake of breath put an abrupt end to her sentence.
”Jeepers, what’s the matter?” asked Trixie. ”Did you see a field mouse? Or—or a rattlesnake?”
Mutely Honey pointed straight ahead with her flashlight. Trixie followed the light with her eyes and gasped.
In the vaguely lit clearing up the path were two dark shapes. The smaller shape was nowhere near as attention-attracting as the larger one. Completely unable to believe her eyes, Trixie focused her flashlight on it.
It was several feet long, black, and shaped like a torpedo. Rising from its middle was the silhouette of a triangular fin! Trixie took a step backward, and then several more steps, when she saw that the shape—both shapes—were moving!
Halloween Terror ● 15
A FAMILIAR VOICE rattled Trixie’s nerves.
”Hustle your bustle, Di,” it was saying. ”Only an auspicious arrival will impress Trixie and Honey.”
”Mart Belden!” Trixie roared.
The ”shark” figure turned awkwardly toward Trixie, revealing a pair of human legs descending from its middle. ”Well, Di, I guess we can consider ourselves arrived,” came Mart’s muffled voice.
Weak with relief, Trixie and Honey stepped closer to the two bizarre figures.
The second, strangely feathered figure spoke plaintively. ”Well, let’s get into the clubhouse, then. I’m about to suffocate. You and your bright ideas, Mart!”
”Am I to assume,” asked Trixie, escorting her brother to the clubhouse, several yards down the path, ”that this dirty trick is your idea of a Halloween costume?”
”Pretty clever, isn’t it?” Mart asked smugly. ”We weren’t tryfhg to scare you, honest. Just having a little fun, unfortunately at your expense, sis.”
”More crude than clever” was Trixie’s judgment when the group entered the lighted clubhouse.
Jim, Dan, and Brian, already getting things set up, guffawed appreciatively at the spectacle of Mart encased in black papier-mâché.
”Boy, when you decide to wear a costume, you really go all out,” said Dan.
”You aren’t kidding,” Mart said, lifting the contraption up and setting it on a chair. He smoothed down his hair and shirt. ”I asked Mary Brendan, a friend of mine who’s taking a stagecraft class, to help me design something suitably sharkish. I’ve been spending all my spare time in my room, fashioning the wire and wet newspapers. I had to be very careful with the glue and the paint, so Moms wouldn’t kill me. I even did intensive research at the library, to make this creature as accurate as possible.”
”So that was you who had that stack of books out on the library table,” said Trixie.
”Right,” he said. ”I didn’t get around to doing much research on Di’s costume, though. Mary helped me make that, too.”
The whole group turned to Di, smothering their laughter at the sight of her hooded sweatshirt, on which were sewn dozens of brown, black, and white feathers.
”What are you supposed to be?” Honey snickered.
Before Di could respond, Mart said, ”She’s a colinusvirginianus, what else?”
”I’m no such thing!” said Di indignantl
y.
”That’s Latin for the quail known as the bob-white,” Mart told her. ”You’re our very own club mascot, and an attractive one at that.”
”Mart, you’re cute, too, but sometimes your ideas are a little weird.” Di blew at the feathers surrounding her pretty face. ”Now get me out of here!”
After Trixie and Honey helped Di out of her sweatshirt, Trixie turned to Mart. ”Leave it to you to be the only one of us Bob-Whites to be immature enough to dream up costumes for the party!” Suddenly she remembered her own peculiar dress and finished lamely, ”Well, at least Honey and I came as human beings.”
”That’s debatable!” Dan hooted.
”I don’t think you two have any business making fun of me,” added Di.
”I’ve seen horses that look better in clothes than you guys do tonight,” Mart said. ”And my shark costume was no infantile fantasy, Beatrix. Its sole purpose was to get your goat, and I must say I think it succeeded admirably.”
”I wish I were a goat,” Trixie grumbled. ”Then I could butt you!”
”Tsk, tsk, watch your language,” said her brother. ”Look who’s calling whom ’immature,’ anyway—I hardly think that seeing sharks in our Hudson is the height of sophistication!”
”Oh!” Honey exclaimed.
Everyone stared at her, and Honey turned as red as her ill-fitting sweater. ”I mean,” she went on, ”I saw it, too.”
”Look what I’ve started,” Mart groaned. ”That’s right, she saw it,” said Trixie. ”And now you’ll all have to believe me.”
”Oh, no, we don’t,” Mart began heatedly.
Brian stepped forward. ”Why don’t you two save your sibling rivalries for later, and let’s get right to the main point of this party.”
”Eating!” cheered Mart. To everyone’s amazement, he bent down and extracted a small sack of seven tangerines from a hidden compartment in his shark costume. ”My share of the meal—some Halloween-type citrus!” he exclaimed.
”I’m color-coordinated, too,” boasted Jim, pointing to his relish tray of black olives and carrot sticks.
”Well, I’m not,” Dan said, ”but I didn’t think anyone would mind.” He unveiled a huge paper bag full of popcorn.
”Yum!” shouted Trixie, hurrying over to help herself to the first handful. In her haste, she brushed against Mart’s shark contraption. She had to grab it by its fin to prevent it from falling to the wooden floor. ”Fin!” she murmured. ”I wonder....”
”How I constructed it?” Mart guessed. ”I’ll be happy to elucidate. First, I—”
”No, no! I was wondering if the fin I’ve been seeing—Honey and I have been seeing—could possibly belong to anything besides a shark. Maybe it’s phony somehow, like this....”
”That’s not phony,” Di put in. ”It’s genuine paper mash—whatever Mart said it was.”
”Thank you, Diana.” Mart beamed. ”As for you, Beatrix, of course your figmental fin belongs to something other than a fishy shark.
Namely, it belongs to a sea serpent!”
”I’m serious, Mart—”
Brian, whose contribution to the party was providing orange soda and all eating utensils, looked up from setting the table and frowned. ”I didn’t think I’d have to repeat myself. Let’s eat!”
”I second the motion,” said Trixie, munching popcorn and dishing up kidney bean salad at the same time.
The Bob-Whites attacked Honey’s chicken salad sandwiches as if they hadn’t seen food for weeks. It seemed to take only minutes for every crumb, every carrot stick, and every kidney bean to disappear. Then Di brought out her dessert-chocolate cupcakes topped with bright orange frosting.
After dinner, Mart pushed back his chair and said, ”My compliments to the chefs—all seven of ’em!”
”This is one case where too many cooks didn’t spoil the broth,” Jim agreed.
”I’ve never understood that saying,” Di fretted.
”Try this one,” said Mart. ”Too many crooks broil the spoth!”
In the midst of the noisy clowning around, Trixie drew Honey aside and whispered, ”I’m going trick-or-treating! Want to join me?”
”What? Are you crazy?”
”Yes,” answered Trixie, reaching for the flashlight and the picnic hamper. ”Are you with me or not?”
Just then, Trixie heard Mart say something about ”too many sea serpents spoil the Trixie.”
She flounced to the door of the clubhouse, announced, ”I’ve had enough insults; I’m going trick-or-treating,” and walked out into the darkness.
Honey looked apologetically at the astounded Bob-Whites and said, ”I—I think we’ll be back in a few minutes.” Then she clasped the other flashlight and ran to catch up with her friend, who was already halfway to Glen Road.
”What’s going on?” Honey panted.
”I needed a quick excuse to get out of there,” giggled Trixie, ”and that was the best I could do. Don’t worry, we’ll be back, safe and sound, in just a little bit.”
”Back from where?”
Trixie didn’t dare look at Honey’s face. ”We’re going to Killifish Point,” she said briskly. ”Loyola said Thea was going back to the river tonight, and then she’s leaving town. You don’t want Thea to say I stole her book, do you?”
”What book?”
”That copy of Alice in Wonderland that I stuck in this hamper.”
”Oh, Trixie!” Honey looked over her shoulder, obviously unwilling to walk back to the clubhouse alone. Then she looked ahead of her at Glen Road, all murky in the moonlight. ”Wh-What did you say about w-werewolves before?” she quavered.
Trixie linked arms with her. ”Come on, let’s get it over with,” she urged, starting to walk faster, before Honey could argue further.
Privately, Trixie was thinking that this was not only her last chance to return Thea’s book, but it was also her last chance to see what, if anything, Thea was up to. If her hunch was right and some kind of trouble was brewing, Trixie certainly wanted to be on the spot to uncover it.
Clutching their flashlights, the girls half walked, half ran down Glen Road to Killifish Road, and then down toward the river. No cars passed them. The whole area was sheathed in silence, save for the occasional rustle of a leaf or whistle of a bird. As the girls got closer to the Hudson, they could hear the sound of rushing water.
”Where do you think you’re going to find her?” Honey whispered.
Startled, Trixie jumped. ”Gleeps, I guess I’m more nervous than I thought!” she said. ”Well, let’s start with her favorite spot.”
They carefully climbed down the cliff until they reached the rock where they’d seen the writer twice before. This time she wasn’t there. Trixie watched the lights flickering on the opposite shore for a moment, wondering where to look next.
Honey was leaning forward to look down the shore on their side. ”I—I think I see some lights,” she said tentatively.
Trixie noticed them, too. ”Good for you, Honey —come on. Let’s go!”
Sighing, Honey followed her friend back up the cliff and down the rocky shore toward the lights, which were now hidden from sight. Even with their flashlights and the light of the moon, the girls stumbled every so often over an unseen rock. Finally, they reached a peak from which the lights became visible. There was a long slope in front of them, then what looked like a plateau, and finally another slope. Some activity seemed to be taking place on the second slope, in an area where the cliff overhanging the water was very low. Besides several lights, Trixie could see a dark figure moving about.
”That must be her,” she whispered and forged ahead.
Honey clutched at Trixie’s arm as they neared the edge of the plateau. They were close enough
to see that the figure was definitely Thea. Suddenly Thea caught sight of them. She looked angry at first, Trixie thought, but then she smiled and beckoned to them.
Reaching into the hamper, Trixie yelled, ”I’ve got your book!”
/> ”What?”
Trixie waved the red volume above her head. ”Your Alice In Wonderland!”
Trixie thought she heard a dry laugh, and then some muttered words coming from Thea.
”Jeepers, I wonder if she’s got someone with her,” she said to Honey as the two girls hurried over a final rise in the rocks.
Too late, Trixie saw that those rocks had concealed an entire panorama of activity. There was Thea’s silver sports car facing the river... there were two muscular divers in black rubber wet suits....
Before Trixie could catalog anything else, someone reached out to trip her and Honey. The girls promptly fell headlong into a large, sturdy fishing net. Thea’s book went flying. Honey shrieked, but Trixie was too confused to make a sound. The net was drawn tighter, tighter around them.
”I’ve had enough of you pesky girls,” Thea snarled venomously.
Trixie couldn’t believe her ears. What was happening to them? She struggled to look around, but the net was forcing her into a little ball. The two divers were each holding an end of the net. The one who had a moustache was standing directly over Trixie. Water drops from his wet suit fell on her.
”All right, boys,” Thea was saying, ”you can put our latest haul into the car.”
The two men heaved up their load and started shoving it into the backseat of the silver car. Trixie and Honey twisted and turned, but to no avail. Just before the door was slammed shut on them, Trixie finally noticed another figure standing nearby. It was Pat Bunker, an astonished look on his face.
One of the divers said something that Trixie couldn’t make out.
The front door of the car opened. Trixie squirmed until she saw the back of Thea in the driver’s seat. The engine was started.
”Never mind,” said Thea with another dry laugh. ”This one had outlived its usefulness to me, anyway. We’ll nab another one tonight. Now, hand me that big rock over there. I’ll just put it over the accelerator,” she muttered.
The motor began racing. Thea started getting out of the car.
Trixie heard the car being shifted into gear and then the front door slamming shut. The car was in motion—and without a driver! The next thing she heard was a gigantic splash... and the sound of Honey crying, harder than Trixie had ever heard her cry before.
The Hudson River Mystery Page 11