The Haunted Lighthouse (12 page)

Code Buster’s Key and Solution found on
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Cody recognized the flag code and translated each letter aloud.

“Cool,” Luke said.

“Yeah, but does the article mention the spiral fire escape?” M.E. asked.

Quinn nodded. “But it was torn down in the seventies.”

Luke frowned again. Cody knew he would have loved to go down that multistory slide.

“Listen to this,” Quinn added. “Some kids started using the laundry chute as a slide instead.”

Luke perked up. “Dude, that’s awesome! Is it still there?”

“No. Says it’s all boarded up. And get this. The hotel is supposed to be haunted!”

M.E.’s eyebrow shot up. Cody wished Quinn hadn’t said anything about the place being haunted. She hadn’t said anything because she knew M.E. would want to back out.

Quinn continued. “Says here the ghost of a young girl who died in the hotel haunts the fourth floor, and especially Room Four twenty-two. People who’ve stayed there say the TV turns on by itself and the chandelier lights flicker.”

“That’s just another legend,” Luke said. “They probably made it up for the tourists.”

“Maybe,” Quinn said. “Anyway, the Claremont is right there if we take this shortcut. Let’s go check it out.”

“But we don’t know where to go when we get there,” M.E. said.

“We’ll try the tower first,” Quinn suggested. He took another look at the photo Cody had taken. “Hey, wait a minute. Did you guys see that?” He showed them the screen. “It looks like faint letters.”

Before Cody could study the picture, a female student entered the glassed room in the center of the tower. Cody watched as she sat down on a bench, stretched and twisted her wrists, and then began to play the carillon. With her hands curled inward, she pressed on the large rectangular “keys” with the sides of her wrists.

Cody didn’t recognize the tune, but the sound was deafening. All four of the Code Busters plugged their ears.

Cody finger-spelled to the others,

Code Buster’s Key and Solution found on
this page
,
this page
.

They nodded and rushed down the stairwell to
the waiting elevator. By the time they reached the bottom of the tower, they were able to remove their fingers from their ears, but the bells were still loud. Once outside, Cody listened to the haunting sound of the ringing bells. It gave her goose bumps.

It must take years to learn to play the carillon
, she thought, remembering the years she’d spent learning to play the family piano. But since Tana had been diagnosed with severe hearing loss, Cody had given up playing. It wasn’t much fun since she couldn’t share the songs with her deaf sister. In fact, no one in the family had played the instrument since then, not even her mother, who was a good pianist and could play just about any song by ear. Now the keyboard was closed up and the piano held a permanent display of knickknacks and photos.

Quinn pulled Cody from her sad memory. “Cody, let me see your phone again. I want to check that picture you took.”

Cody handed her phone to Quinn. He studied the snapshot, then said, “These are letters!” With a flick of his fingers, he enlarged the screen so he could see the letters better, and read them aloud.

“E-T-U-H-C-Y-R-D-N-U-A-L.”

“Read them again,” M.E. said, pulling out her notebook.

Quinn repeated the string of letters.

“Et-uh-cyrd-nual?” M.E. asked, sounding out the letters like syllables.

“Sounds weird. Maybe it’s someone’s name,” Luke offered. “Etuh Cyrdnual.”

“That doesn’t sound like a name,” Quinn said. He squinted at it. “It’s got to be some kind of code.”

“Let me try,” Luke said. He got out his own notebook and turned to the page with the reverse alphabet code. After trying to match the first few letters of the message with letters of the alphabet, he gave up. “That’s not it.”

“Maybe it’s an anagram,” Cody suggested.

Luke tried rearranging the letters to see if they’d spell any recognizable words. He came up with THE CRY LAND but had two
U
’s left over. He tried again and wrote LACY THUNDER with one leftover
U
. Finally, he wrote UNDER CUT HALY using all the letters, but that still didn’t make sense.

M.E. tried it but only managed to come up with more nonsensical phrases like CHURN LATE DUY, DUEL YARN THUC, and CLUE RAD HUT NY.

Then Cody remembered using her mirror to see under the Campanile ledge, which gave her an idea. She took the notebook from M.E. and wrote the letters down in reverse.

L-A-U-N-D-R-Y-C-H-U-T-E

Code Buster’s Solution found on
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“That’s it!” Quinn said. “That’s where we have to go when we get to the hotel!”

“Yeah,” Luke said, “unless it’s been destroyed, too, and we find another dead end.”

Cody had stopped listening to the boys. She’d spotted a man in a black baseball cap standing only a few feet away reading a newspaper that covered his face. When he turned the page, Cody noticed he had a big black mustache and dark sunglasses. Then she noticed that his newspaper was upside down.

Whoever it was had been within hearing distance of the kids the whole time they’d been discussing the hunt for the diamonds.

Diamond Dave?

G
uys,” Cody whispered, “we’d better get out of here. I think someone’s watching us.”

The three others glanced around.

“Don’t look!” Cody said. “He’ll see you! Be cool. He’s over by those bushes, pretending to read a newspaper.”

Quinn tried to look nonchalant as he surveyed
the area. M.E. put her head down and peeked around from under her bangs. Luke made no attempt to disguise his actions—he looked right in the direction Cody had indicated.

“Where?” Luke asked.

“Shhh! He’ll hear you!” Cody sneaked another look.

The man was gone.

She blinked several times, as if clearing her eyes would make the man reappear. “I … I … He was just there. Standing, like, ten feet away. Reading a newspaper—upside down!” She searched the area but saw no sign of the man. “I know I saw someone.”

“Whatever,” Quinn said, shrugging. “Let’s take the trail to the hotel. We’ll keep an eye out to see if anyone follows us.”

“What if he
is
following us?” M.E. asked. “And he tries to get us on the trail? Then what?”

Luke flexed his biceps. “I’ll take care of him,” he said.

Cody grinned.

“Meanwhile, let’s run,” Quinn said. “Ready? On the count of three: one … two … three!”

The Code Busters raced along the shortcut toward the hotel. The path was well worn, mostly uphill, and Cody kept glancing back to see if the man was following them. Maybe he wasn’t spying on them. Maybe it had been her imagination.

The kids were puffing when they reached the grounds of the large white hotel. Cody scanned the plentiful tennis courts and two pools and wondered what it cost to stay there.

“Any sign of your mysterious stranger?” Quinn asked. He sounded as if he didn’t believe her.

Cody shrugged and shook her head.

“Okay, let’s see if we can find the laundry chute,” Quinn said, excitement in his eyes.

The four kids entered the lobby of the grand hotel quietly, almost as if they were in church. Cody looked up at the high ceilings, then around at the
Victorian decor—ornate wallpaper, heavy chandeliers, velvety chairs, and the various antiques that filled the room.

“Now what?” M.E. whispered. “I don’t think we can just go up to the front desk and ask where the laundry chutes are. They’ll know we’re up to something.”

Cody nodded. “Let’s get sodas at that café we passed. Maybe we can talk to the waiter to see if he knows anything about the chutes.”

“Good idea,” M.E. agreed. “I’m dying of thirst.”

The kids headed over to the Paragon Restaurant, passing several fancy boutiques and shops along the way. The place was practically empty at that hour, with only a few couples at the bar. The kids found a table by the window, and Cody stared out at the view for a few moments, spotting Alcatraz looming under the Golden Gate Bridge. The waiter, an elderly man with thinning hair slicked back, wearing black pants and a black shirt, greeted them and handed
each one a menu. His name tag read
DELMAR MORRIS
.

Cody blinked when she saw the prices. The price of food here was certainly higher than in the school cafeteria. After some discreet whispering and checking of funds, they decided on four lemonades and a basket of french fries to share.

The waiter appeared again at their table from seemingly nowhere, his arms straight down in front of him, his hands folded. Cody noticed a sparkling ring on his thin pinky finger. “Good afternoon, young people. What may I get you today?”

“Uh, we’d like four lemonades and some french fries, please,” Quinn said.

The waiter nodded. “Very good. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.” Quinn handed him the menus.

“Shall I put it on your room?”

The kids looked at each other, puzzled. Then Cody said, “No, thanks, we’ll pay cash.”

“Very good.” He took the menus and disappeared.

“What did he mean, put it on your room?” M.E. asked.

“He meant we could charge it to our room at the hotel and pay for it later,” Cody answered. “But we don’t have a room.”

Cody couldn’t help checking the café entrance for any sign of the strange man she’d seen at the Campanile.

“Listen,” Luke said, “this is it for me. If we don’t find anything here, I say we give up. I’ve got a basketball game later today. Those diamonds were hidden a long time ago—there’s no way they’re still around. Either Diamond Dave got them back, or someone else found them … or they were never really there.”

“Well, at least let’s ask the waiter about the laundry chutes,” Quinn said. “He looks like he’s been around since the place was built. He should know where they are—if they still exist.”

The waiter returned with a tray of four lemonades
in tall glasses and a plate of french fries sprinkled with bits of white and green things. He set the drinks at each place and put the fries in the middle, along with a bottle of ketchup.

“What’s the green stuff?” Luke asked him.

“Just a little parsley, to give it color,” the waiter said, standing at attention, his hands holding the empty tray in front of him. Cody noticed the sparkling ring again. It reminded her of her dad’s class ring from the University of California. “These are our famous garlic fries. Will there be anything else?”

“Uh … yeah,” Quinn said, looking up at him. “Have you been working here a long time?”

The waiter nodded. “More than fifty years. My father worked here as a maintenance man, and my son works here now as a tennis pro.”

“That’s cool,” Luke said. “Do you live here, too?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

The waiter didn’t seem to mind answering their
questions, nor did he seem to be in a hurry. No wonder—there were hardly any other customers in the café.

“We heard the hotel was haunted,” M.E. said. Apparently, the thought of ghosts walking the halls was still on her mind.