The Mystery of the Emeralds (14 page)

“I don’t understand it,” Mr. Carver answered. “I’ve never had an accident in all the years I’ve been using it. I don’t understand!”

“Don’t try to figure it out just now,” Brian urged him. “I think the thing for us to do at the moment is to get a doctor to look at your head and put on a proper dressing. The one I fixed up is pretty inadequate, I’m afraid.”

“You
do
have a doctor, don’t you?” Trixie asked solicitously.

“Yes, there’s Alex, although I think of him more as my friend than my doctor.” Mr. Carver paused as though speaking tired him. “Except for my legs, I am remarkably fit, but Alex drops over every so often for a game of chess. He was here last evening, as a matter of fact.”

“May we call him?” Trixie asked. “We want to be sure you’re all right.”

“If it will make you feel easier,” he said with a faint smile. “I’ll admit my head could use relief of some kind. Look in the directory on my desk. He’s listed there under Alexander Brandon.”

Trixie went to the desk and, having found the number, put in a call for the doctor. As she waited for the nurse to locate him, she glanced over Mr. Carver’s neatly kept desk. Suddenly she noticed, far over on one side, almost hidden by a newspaper, the gold locket. It was open, and when she reached over and took it in her hand her heart almost stopped beating. The little piece of paper with the directions for finding the necklace was missing!

Of course he might have put it away for safekeeping
, she told herself frantically.
But why hadn’t he put the locket away, too?
That he would have just flung it to one side of the desk didn’t fit in with his apparent orderliness.
No
, she conjectured,
Jenkins has been here!

Jim must have sensed that Trixie was deeply disturbed because he stepped over to her side. Just then Dr. Brandon came on the phone. All Trixie had time to do was to place the open locket in Jim’s hand. He let out a low whistle and quickly slipped it into the desk drawer.
When Trixie told the doctor about Mr. Carver’s wound and severe headache he voiced concern and said he would come to Green Trees immediately. In answer to his question, Trixie told him who she was and started explaining how she had happened to be on hand, but he cut her short. “Oh, yes,” he said, “Edgar told me about you all last evening. I can’t tell you how fortunate it is you arrived when you did. Now keep him warm, and see that his head is elevated a little. It shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes to get there.”

It probably
was
only a few minutes, but to Trixie it seemed like hours before she heard a car come up the driveway and, looking out, saw a tall, well-built man stride rapidly toward the house and up to the terrace door. Except for hurried introductions and a word or two of reassurance to Edgar Carver, Dr. Brandon lost no time before going about the business of examining his friend.

“It might be a good idea for you girls to make some hot tea,” he said as he pulled up a chair beside the sofa. “The kitchen is at the end of the hall, beyond the studio. In the meantime we’ll finish getting Edgar bandaged up and see if we can’t relieve his headache.”

As Trixie, Di, and Honey went into the kitchen, they thought at first they had made a mistake and were in the wrong room. It was unlike any kitchen they had ever seen. There were no wall cabinets above the working surfaces, and the sink and stove were unusually low, but Trixie almost immediately came up with the explanation for this unorthodox arrangement.

“It’s designed so Mr. Carver can reach everything he needs from his wheelchair,” she exclaimed. “What a clever idea!”

It didn’t take Honey long to find the teakettle and fill it with water. The kitchen was neat as a pin, the tea things arranged on a low shelf near the stove for easy access.

“What can I do to help?” Trixie asked. “You know me and a kitchen. I’m helpless!”

Di, who was already busy putting extra cups and saucers on a tray, said, “Why, wouldn’t it be a good idea to get the sandwiches from the box lunches to serve with the tea? It’s not lunchtime yet, I know, but we’ve had so much excitement I think everyone might like a bite to eat.”

“You can be sure Mart will.” Honey laughed. “It’s a good idea, Di. How about getting the boxes from the station wagon for us, Trixie?”

“That sounds like an assignment I could manage.” Trixie smiled.

Noticing that the kitchen door led out to the driveway, she used it so she would not disturb the doctor and Mr. Carver. She was rounding the corner of the house when she heard a voice call to her.

“Hey! Trixie!”

She spun around and found herself face to face with Neil, who apparently had been hiding behind a tall clump of bushes. His face was white, the expression in his eyes was worried, and as he approached her, his shoulders were hunched and he was wringing his hands nervously. Trixie was about to ask him what he was doing there, but something in his manner made her wait to let him speak first.

“Is he all right?” Neil asked. “Jenkins mentioned an accident. He’s not hurt bad, is he?”

Trixie was dumbfounded. Her amazement must have shown on her face, because before she had time to answer, Neil went on, “Please say he’s all right. I can’t stand any more cruelty.”

“I don’t think he’s badly hurt,” Trixie said. “What did Mr. Jenkins tell you? Mr. Carver thinks he fell out of his wheelchair, but I have other ideas.”

“You mean,” Neil asked incredulously, “he doesn’t remember anything?”

“That’s right,” Trixie answered sharply. “His mind seems to be a complete blank about the fall.”

“I wish I could tell you what happened, Trixie, honest I do!” The boy’s face was wretched. “All Jenkins said was there had been an accident. If I can get anything more out of him, I’ll tell you. I promise. I want to talk
with you, Trixie. I want you to know why I came down here and all. Please give me a chance.”

“I’d like to talk to you, too, Neil,” Trixie said, her voice softening a little. “Right now I’ve got to get some things out of the station wagon and go back to the house, but if you’re really serious, and I think you are, I’ll come back as soon as I can. You wait here.” And she was off.

He was still there when she returned with the lunch boxes, and as she passed him, she said, “I’ll make it as fast as I can. You just stay put.”

When she, Di, and Honey got back to the library with the tea tray and sandwiches, they found Dr. Brandon talking with Brian about Mr. Carver’s head.

“I’m pretty certain there’s no concussion,” he said, “but I want to be absolutely sure, and an X ray is the best way to check.”

“Oh, come now, Alex, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” Edgar Carver chided his friend. “My head’s beginning to feel better already. I even think I could drink a cup of tea.”

“No, I won’t let you talk me out of it,” Dr. Brandon replied. “You’ve had your way too long about that operation I want you to have, so now it’s
my
turn to be stubborn.”

Trixie was immediately attentive. “An operation?” she asked, turning to the doctor.

Dr. Brandon glanced at his friend who with a slight wave of his hand indicated that it would be all right if he answered Trixie’s question.

“Well, when Mr. Carver was a little boy—You weren’t more than five or six, were you?” he asked, looking at the other man who nodded imperceptibly. “He fell downstairs on Christmas morning, injuring his back so that he lost the use of his legs.”

“How dreadful!” Trixie cried. “Couldn’t anything be done?”

“We’re not sure what steps were taken at the time,” the doctor went on, “and it’s useless to try to fix the blame for things that happened so long ago, but I have reason to think it’s not too late to do something about it. Medical science has made tremendous strides since then.”

“And you don’t favor an operation, Mr. Carver?” Brian asked solicitously.

Mr. Carver was silent for a minute before he answered, and then, with a smile at the doctor, he said, “I’ve learned to get along very well over the years, and I …” His voice trailed off into silence.

“Come now,” Dr. Brandon said, laying a hand gently
on Edgar Carver’s shoulder. “I don’t want to upset you after the shock you’ve had this morning. Let’s just say your refusal is a matter of pride. I think your young friends here will understand.”

“Indeed we do!” Trixie spoke for all of them. “But wouldn’t it be wonderful if something
could
be done?”

“It certainly would!” the doctor replied earnestly. “But now, Brian, to get back to more immediate problems. I noticed, didn’t I, that you came down in a station wagon? Would it be possible for you to drive Edgar to my office? I have an X-ray machine there, and it would save a good deal of time.”

“Of course we can,” Brian said, jumping to his feet. “We’ll put the back seat down, and fix up a comfortable place for Mr. Carver to lie so he won’t have to sit up at all. Come on, Jim, and you too, Mart. Take out some of those pillows and that afghan over there on the chair, and as soon as we have everything ready we’ll be back to carry Mr. Carver out.”

“Well, I guess I’m outnumbered,” said the invalid with a smile. “You win!”

“We’ll stay here and clean up the tea things,” Honey said as she began gathering up the empty cups and plates. “Good luck, Mr. Carver, and don’t you worry about a thing!”

Trixie had already gone out of the room, and when Di and Honey got to the kitchen they were surprised not to find her there.

“I wonder where she could have gone,” Di said, frowning. “It isn’t like her to run off without telling us where she’s going.”

“She probably went to help the boys,” Honey answered mildly. “You know she’d much rather do something like that than wash dishes. Don’t worry. She’ll be back soon.”

Trixie had guessed rightly that her services wouldn’t be missed in the kitchen for the next few minutes and had run out the back way to talk with Neil. As she approached him, he came down the path to meet her.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t come!” he said. Trixie thought he sounded like a little boy.

“I
said
I would, didn’t I?” she answered with a hint of a smile. “But I only have a few minutes, so tell me what you have on your mind.”

“Well, I guess you know what I was after when I came to Cliveden,” he began, kicking the gravel in the path with the toe of his shoe.

“I can guess,” Trixie answered, “but I can’t figure out how you got here from Croton so fast.”

“Oh, that was easy,” he explained. “Almost too easy to be true. The day after Miss Julie told me about the necklace I went down to the farm to help with the horses, and there was this van waiting to pick up one of the mares to take to Virginia.”

“And you managed to hitch a ride to Cliveden?” Trixie asked.

“Not all the way, but almost,” Neil said, “and when I got here I heard about Jenkins and his stable being at Rosewood, and I got me a job.”

“Yes, yes! Go on,” Trixie urged impatiently.

“Well, at first Jenkins seemed like an okay guy, and I told him what I’d heard about the lost necklace, thinking he could help me and we could split the loot,” Neil continued. “Right after that he began to treat me mean and beat me. He beat the horses, too, and that made me see red! I can take care of myself, but I don’t like to see no animals hurt.” He paused briefly, shaking his head, before he went on.

“Then, that day in the cemetery. I guess you wonder why I broke in on you that way,” he said.

“Well, it
was
rather unexpected,” Trixie said, trying to repress a chuckle. “What
was
your idea?”

“You see, my old man—I mean, my father’s crippled like Mr. Carver, always in a wheelchair. Got his legs
smashed in a machine when I was a kid.” Neil, hands thrust deep in his pockets, his head low, was having trouble continuing, but Trixie didn’t hurry him. After a pause he looked up at her and went on. “He’s a great guy, never complains and makes all kinds of things with his hands, but it was always hard times for my mother and my two sisters and me. That’s why I quit school and scrammed out of there. School wasn’t really
that
bad, but I couldn’t go on sitting down to supper every night seeing Mom and Pop going without so us kids would have enough. I
had
to do something!”

“I’ll admit that’s enough to make anyone want to do something drastic,” Trixie replied sympathetically, “but I still don’t see what it has to do with your attack on us yesterday.”

“It’s on account of Mr. Carver, really,” Neil continued. “I saw him the first day when I was out exercising one of the horses. He was sitting in his wheelchair out in the garden, drawing or painting or something, and I, well, I just felt awful sorry for him. I didn’t want anyone to do anything to hurt him. See?”

“Yes,” Trixie said slowly. “I see. As a matter of fact, I sort of half-suspected something like that, but why are you telling me all this?”

“Because now I know you don’t mean no harm to
him, and I want to get away from Jenkins and never have to see him again!”

“Okay,” Trixie said gently, placing her hand on his arm. “I believe you. I can’t talk to you any more right now, but you meet us down the road when we leave this afternoon, and we’ll try to figure out what’s the best thing for you to do.”