The Haunted Lighthouse (13 page)

“So I’ve heard,” the waiter said. “But truthfully, I’ve never seen her.”

“Her?” Cody asked.

“The little girl who supposedly haunts Room Four twenty-two. I think our guests like the idea of a haunted hotel—it reminds them of that movie
The Shining
. Still, I don’t know how these rumors get started. Like ghosts, they never seem to die.” He gave a crooked grin at his play on words, then he said, “So, no ghosts, but we’ve had everyone else here, from presidents to Hollywood stars. And now the four of you.”

Cody felt herself blush. Did he really think they were staying at the hotel?

“About the rumors,” Quinn continued. “We heard there were some fire escapes and laundry chutes that kids used to slide down. Are they still around?”

“Not anymore,” the waiter said. “Both were dismantled some years ago. But you’re right—local teenagers used to come up here and slide down the laundry chutes. I, myself, did at one time, when I was a lot younger, of course.”

“Cool,” Luke said, grinning. Cody could just picture Luke fearlessly sliding down the chutes.

“So they’re really gone?” Quinn asked. His usually animated face was crestfallen.

“Yes. As you can imagine, they were a liability. If someone had gotten hurt, well, that wouldn’t have been good. But there’s still plenty of fun to be had here for young people. There are the pools, the gym, the spa, the tennis courts …”

Still
, Cody thought,
nothing compares to a slide that travels from the top floor to the basement
.

The basement …

Before she could finish her thought, the waiter excused himself and left the kids to enjoy their drinks and fries. Quinn looked glum after learning the chutes no longer existed. This truly was a dead end, as Luke had predicted. The treasure hunt appeared to be over.

Suddenly, Cody noticed a figure in the café doorway. This man wore a long coat, a black baseball cap, glasses, and had a mustache. The only thing missing was the upside-down newspaper.

He’d followed them!

Cody pulled out her cell phone that she’d taken along, just in case. She began writing down numbers on a paper napkin, some with dots on one side or the other, some without.

“What are you doing?” M.E. asked as she watched Cody glance back and forth between her phone and the napkin.

“It’s the telephone code,” Quinn said, pulling
out his cell phone. “Each number stands for a letter on the phone keypad. If the letter is on the left, like
A
, you add a dot on the left—.2. If it’s on the right, like
C
, you add a dot on the right, like 2., and if there’s an extra letter, such as
WXYZ
, the two letters in the middle have no dots and you just have to figure out which one it is.”

He touched the screen, revealing the phone keypad, and started translating the code on his own napkin.

.9 3   .9 3 7 3   3. 6. 5. 5. 6. ̣9   3 .3 !

.6 .2 6   7. .8 .2 6 .3 4. 6 .4   4. 6   .3 6. 6. 7 .9 .2 9 !

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

After Quinn translated the code, the kids looked at the doorway.

The man had vanished.

“There’s no man there,” M.E. said.

“I swear I saw him,” Cody said in a low voice.
“It was the same guy who was watching us at the Campanile. I saw him peeking in the doorway.”

“There’s no one there now,” M.E. said.

“Are you sure you saw someone?” Quinn asked.

“I’m sure!” Cody said.

She looked at the others, waiting for them to believe her.

“Okay, I have an idea,” Quinn said. “M.E. and I will take off and see if he follows us. If he does, we’ll lead him on a wild-goose chase through the hotel. Luke and Cody, you act like you’re going to stay here and finish your drinks, then head for the basement.”

“Why the basement?” Luke asked, then stuffed a french fry in his mouth.

“That’s where the laundry chute probably ended up,” Quinn said. “Where they do all the hotel laundry. You guys take a look around, just to see if there’s anything still there from the chute. We’ll meet in the lobby in ten minutes. If the guy is still
around—and following us—we’ll tell the hotel detective.”

“They have hotel detectives?” M.E. asked.

Quinn nodded. He dug out money for his share of the bill, M.E. did the same, and the two Code Busters headed out of the café, trying to look suspicious by whispering and pretending to read a page of their codebook. Meanwhile, Luke and Cody tried to look casual, drinking their lemonade and finishing up the fries.

The waiter arrived with the bill, and Cody handed over the collected money.

“Thanks,” Cody said, then added, “By the way, are guests allowed in the basement?”

The waiter shook his head. “No. That’s for staff only.” He paused a moment. “And those staff members use the service elevator, tucked into an alcove next to the guest elevators.”

“Thanks,” Cody said, smiling. She slid out of her chair. What a fun job the old waiter had, working
in a place like this, with so much history and mystery and secret elevators and laundry chutes.

Cody saw no sign of the mysterious man as she and Luke left the café. Maybe he was tailing Quinn and M.E., as planned. Or maybe her imagination was working overtime. They headed for the service elevator, checking to make sure they weren’t being followed, then ducked into the alcove and pushed the “Down” button. The doors opened and they stepped into the empty elevator car about the size of a hotel room. They rode to the bottom floor and stepped out into a dark hallway, lit by only a few bare bulbs. The air was stuffy, almost damp, and the sound of heavy-duty washing machines and dryers told them in which direction they’d find the laundry room. As they moved down the shadowy hall, they passed a few maids in uniforms speaking Spanish and stuffing bundles of bedding onto large rolling carts.

No one asked them what they were doing there.

Luke pointed to the laundry room. They entered an enormous space filled with washing machines and dryers, all running at once. Piles of sheets and blankets and comforters filled most of the floor, while freshly folded bedding was stacked on shelves. Several workers dressed in white uniforms monitored the machines.

An older woman folding sheets eyed them and frowned, but said nothing.

Cody gave her a friendly wave, hoping to charm her into accepting their presence.

The woman said something in Spanish that Cody didn’t understand, then went back to her work.

Luke nudged Cody and pointed to a large hole in the side of one wall. They stepped over to inspect it and found the hole led upward—to blackness and a dead end. Cody got out her cell phone and used her flashlight app to light up the opening. Clearly, it had been blocked a few feet
above with a piece of sheet metal.

Had this been the famous laundry chute?

If so, what did it have to do with the missing diamonds? Surely, the jewels hadn’t been simply lying around in the laundry room all these years. Cody bent down and examined the edge of the chute. Scratches had been etched into the bottom of the opening. Cody noticed that they were in the shape of a circle.

It looked like a simple drawing made from vertical lines with dots on the tops of them. In the center of the circle of I’s was the number
422
.

Four twenty-two.

The number of the hotel room that was supposedly haunted by the young girl.

It had been carved inside a circle made of lines and dots.

Something was in that supposedly haunted room.

Cody
had
to find out what it was.

T
en minutes later, as planned, Cody and Luke met up with Quinn and M.E. in the lobby.

“How did it go?” Quinn asked. “Find anything?”

Cody glanced around to see if the strange man was lurking anywhere. No sign of him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was lurking nearby. “Were you followed?” she asked.

“Nope,” Quinn said. “I think you were imagining
things. Easy to do in a place like this.”

Cody didn’t respond, but she was certain she had seen the man earlier.

M.E. interrupted her thoughts. “We tried to go up to the hotel tower, but it’s blocked. If there were diamonds up there, I doubt they’re still around. But we couldn’t get in to check for ourselves.”

Quinn looked at Cody. “How about the basement?”

Cody pulled out her notebook and opened it to the page where she’d copied the drawing and number.

“What’s that?” M.E. asked, peering at the page on tiptoe.

“Good question,” Luke said. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

“The number!” Quinn said. “Four twenty-two. The same number as the haunted hotel room. Maybe there’s something there.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Cody said. “But how are we supposed to get inside?”

“And do we really want to?” M.E. added, her eyebrows raised. “I mean, it could actually be haunted.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “No worries, M.E., I won’t let the ghost get you. But there’s no way I can save you from your own imagination.”

M.E. slapped him lightly on the arm. “Very funny.”

“I have an idea,” Quinn said. “Come on.” He led the way to the elevators, this time the ones used by the guests, not the service elevator. The contrast between the two elevators impressed Cody. The service elevator car had bare steel walls and was large enough to fit a car inside, but the guest elevator was wood paneled, with a tile floor and posters of the many hotel offerings. Just as they stepped in, Cody thought she saw people step into the other elevator, including a man with a long coat, but he was turned away and other people were in the way. She couldn’t be sure it was the same person who had been following them.

The elevator dinged on the fourth floor, and the kids stepped off. Cody paused for a second, waiting to see if the other elevator stopped on the fourth floor, too, but it bypassed their floor and continued up. The hallway was clear, except for a couple of maids’ carts. Cody checked the signs that directed guests to their rooms, and pointed in the direction of the “400–425” wing. “That way,” she said, after checking to see if anyone was nearby.

They moved slowly down the hallway and turned a corner. Cody thought she heard the elevator
ding
, signaling the arrival of a passenger, and paused again, but before she could check it out, Quinn stopped abruptly.

“Wait,” he whispered.

“What?” M.E. asked.

“See those maids’ carts?”

Temporarily forgetting her fears of being followed, Cody spotted the carts farther down the hall, where two women dressed in black-and-white
maid uniforms were chatting.

“I’m going to pretend I forgot my key,” Quinn said, “and ask them to let me in.”

He started to head down the hall when M.E. grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“What?” he asked, sounding irritated.

“Listen,” she said. “What do you hear?”

He listened. “Nothing. Just the maids talking. Why?”

“And what are they saying?” M.E. asked.

“How should I know?” Quinn asked. “They’re speaking Spanish.”

“Exactamente,”
M.E. said. “Languages are just like codes, you know. And I happen to know this one.
Muévete
. Let me handle this.”

“I can guess what
exactamente
means,” Cody said. “Exactly. What does
muévete
mean?”

“Move!”

Cody grinned at her friend. M.E. was right—she was the only one who spoke Spanish. Cody
knew only American Sign Language and codes. Someday she’d have to learn Spanish beyond
hola
and counting to ten.

M.E. took a deep breath and walked down the hall. The others pulled back around the corner so they wouldn’t be spotted. If the maids saw them, they might think the four kids were up to something.

Cody pulled out her cell phone, tapped her Spanish-to-English dictionary app, and listened for M.E. to say a few words in Spanish. After a few moments, she heard,
“Disculpe. Perdí mis llaves. Por favor permítame entrar?”

Cody looked up the words as fast as she could and guessed that M.E. had said something like: “Pardon me. I’ve lost my keys. Could you please let me in?”