The Mystery of the Fiery Eye - Артур Роберт (серия книг TXT) 📗

“So far we’re just guessing,” Jupiter said. “Bob, it is now time to do some research.”

“Sure,” Bob agreed. “What kind?”

“In the library,” the First Investigator told him. “See if you can find out anything about The Fiery Eye. Also look up Pleshiwar, India.”

“Right,” Bob said. “Suppose I report back after dinner. My family sort of expects me to eat dinner at home once in a while.”

“That will be time enough,” Jupiter told him. “We will start the Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup going then.”

“My word!” Gus said as Bob pedalled away. “I had no idea what I was letting you in for! Somebody attacks Mr. Dwiggins — Three-Dots comes here and threatens you, Jupiter — there is obviously a lot at stake and a great deal of peril. I haven’t any right to endanger you. I think I had better just go home and forget about The Fiery Eye. You can stop hunting for Augustus, and if Three-Dots or Black Moustache find him, they can fight it out between them.”

“Gus, that’s mighty good thinking!” Pete exclaimed. “How about it, Jupe?”

But the expression on Jupe’s face gave him the answer. Give Jupiter Jones a good mystery to solve and it was like handing a steak to a hungry bulldog — he wasn’t going to give it up!

“We’ve only just started on this investigation, Second,” Jupiter said. “We’ve been wanting a mystery to tackle, so we can’t give up a good one when it comes along. Anyway, there, are certain curious facts I haven’t figured out yet.”

“There are? Such as what?” Pete asked.

“It is my deduction,” the First Investigator said, “that Mr. Dwiggins locked himself in the closet.”

“Locked himself in the closet?” Gus’s voice was full of astonishment. “Why should he do a thing like that?”

“I don’t know. That’s part of the mystery.”

“What makes you think he locked himself in, First?” Pete asked. “I mean, he was locked inside and he certainly looked as if he had been handled roughly.”

“Superficial evidence meant to mislead us,” Jupiter said. “Think about it, Second. Use your ability to reason. Mr. Dwiggins said he’d been in the closet for an hour and a half, didn’t he?”

“Well — yes.”

“During which time he pounded on the door and called for help. Now what would a man do first under such circumstances?”

“He’d put his glasses on straight!” Gus cried. “Or else, because it was dark, take them off and put them in his pocket. He wouldn’t let them hang by one ear for an hour and a half!”

“I guess you’re right, Gus.” Pete scratched his head. “Also he’d straighten his tie. You’re right, Jupe, he fixed his tie and glasses to make us think he’d been attacked.”

“Always analyse all the facts,” Jupiter said. “I must admit, though, that Mr. Dwiggins was very convincing. I might not have thought of being suspicious except for one fact. Come over here behind the desk, both of you, and put your hands on the seat of this chair.”

He stood up. Pete and Gus both touched the wooden seat of the swivel chair.

“Now touch the desk,” Jupiter directed. “And tell me the difference between the two wooden surfaces.”

Both touched the desk. Gus exclaimed, “The chair is warm because you were sitting in it. The desk top is cooler.”

Jupiter nodded. “And when I picked up Mr. Dwiggins’s chair back in his office, I noticed to my surprise that the seat of it was slightly warm, as if someone had been sitting in it up to a minute or so before. Then when I thought about the glasses and necktie, I realized what must have happened.

“Mr. Dwiggins saw us drive up and get out of the car. He knocked over the chair, hurried into the closet, and disarranged his glasses and tie. Then he sat down and began to shout for help. He probably hadn’t been in the closet more than two or three minutes before we found him.”

“Wow!” Pete exclaimed. “Why would he do all that?”

“To deceive us,” Jupe answered. “To make us think his copy of the message had been stolen, when it hadn’t.”

“You mean there was no middle-sized man with glasses and a black moustache?” Gus asked.

“I don’t think so. I think Mr. Dwiggins made him up. My theory is that Three-Dots, Mr. Rama Rhandur from India, may have paid Mr. Dwiggins for his copy of the secret message, and Mr. Dwiggins thought of this scheme to make us think it had been stolen.”

“It certainly sounds logical,” Gus admitted. “That would explain how Mr. Rhandur came here, too. He solved the message enough to realize the importance of those busts.”

“And he said he’ll be back!” Pete exclaimed. “Maybe he’ll bring some of his buddies with him next time. Suppose he doesn’t believe we really don’t know where Augustus of Poland is? They have some pretty fierce tortures to make people talk, over there in the Orient.”

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Second,” Jupiter told him. “This is California, not the Far East. I haven’t heard of anybody being tortured here since Indian days.”

“There always has to be a first time,” Pete muttered darkly.

Gus was about to say something when the phone rang. Jupiter answered. “Jones Salvage Yard, Jupiter Jones speaking.”

“This is Mrs. Peterson. I live in Malibu Beach,” said a pleasant-sounding woman’s voice. “I’m sorry, but I have a complaint. Yesterday I bought two plaster busts from you folks to use as garden ornaments.”

“Yes, Mrs. Peterson?” Jupiter spoke with sudden interest.

“Well, they were very dusty and I put them out in the yard under the hose to wash them off. One of them started to crumble. An ear fell off and part of the nose. My husband tells me they’re just made of plaster, and should be kept indoors. Outside, the weather would ruin them in no time. I really feel you should return my money, as you sold them to me for garden ornaments.”

“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Peterson,” Jupiter said politely. “I guess we didn’t think about plaster being affected by water. We’ll return your money. May I ask which busts you bought?”

“I’m not sure. They’re out in the patio now. But I think one of them is Augustus somebody. I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Peterson!” Jupiter said, sitting up straight at the words. “We’ll come and pick them up to save you the trouble. If you’ll give me the address, we’ll be over sometime this afternoon or evening.”

He wrote rapidly as Mrs. Peterson gave him her address, then hung up.

“We’ve located Augustus of Poland!” he said to Pete and Gus. “As soon as Hans comes back with the small truck we’ll go and pick him up.”

“Great!” Pete said. Then he added, “I hope we get Augustus before Three-Dots gets us!”

7

Black Moustache on the Scene

MEANWHILE, Bob had reached the Rocky Beach Public Library, where he had a part-time job. As he walked in, Miss Bennett, the librarian, looked up.

“Why, hello, Bob,” she said. “I didn’t know this was your day to work.”

“It isn’t,” Bob said. “I came to do some research.”

“Oh, and I hoped you were here to help me.” Miss Bennett laughed lightly. “It’s been such a busy day. There are so many books to put back on the shelves. Could you spare us a little time, Bob?”

“Sure, Miss Bennett,” Bob agreed.

Miss Bennett asked him first to mend the binding on some juvenile books. Bob took them into the back storage room and used strong plastic tape to secure the torn covers. When he had finished, Miss Bennett had a sizeable stack of returned books to be put back on the shelves. He put these away one by one, and then the librarian called his attention to some books that had been left on one of the reading-room tables. Bob gathered them up. As he looked at the one on top, he almost jumped in surprise.

The title was Famous Gems and Their Stories. It was the very book he had come to the library to consult.

“Something wrong, Bob?” Miss Bennett asked.