The Mystery of the Hichcocke Inheritance

Hichcocke

Inheritance

Based on characters created by Robert
Arthur

Copyright 2013 Mark Zahn

Published by Mark Zahn at Smashwords

This eBook originally appeared at:

www.threeinvestigatorsbooks.com

Thanks and appreciation to Seth T. Smolinske
for giving this story a home, to Amy Goodwin for the Smashwords
translation, and to Elizabeth Arthur and Steven Bauer for their
diligence and encouragement in keeping this series alive.

Text © 2014 by Mark Zahn • 3rd Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental. For copyright reasons, please be aware that the
spelling of ‘Alphred Hichocke’ was intentional, and that his
character in this book should also be interpreted as
fictitious.

The Three Investigators, and all original
books 1-10 iconography, are trademarks owned and copyrighted by
Elizabeth Arthur and Robert Andrew Arthur, 2014, and are used in
this text with their express permission.

The following e-book is for entertainment
purposes only.

Table of Contents

Introduction by
Reginald Clarke

Goodbye To A
Friend

A Challenge From The
Grave

Skip The H2O

London
Calling

Where’s The
Crate?

Trapped!

Hidden
Treasures

S.O.S.

Clocks and More
Clocks

The Opened
Letter

The Single
Footprint

Jupiter Has A
Plan

Front Page
News

Race To The
Embassy

The Ghost Strikes
Again

Bob Makes An
Accusation

Nobody Move

The Ghost of Molly
Thibidoux

Mr.Clarke Asks Some
Questions

About The
Author

Look
For These Exciting Works From Mark Zahn

Introduction by Reginald
Clarke

GREETINGS, FANS OF The Three
Investigators! Today you are in for a rare treat – for what you
hold in your hands is a “lost case” of our adroit young detectives!
As you know, many the world over were saddened by the death of the
great motion picture director and mentor of The Three
Investigators, Alphred Hichcocke. The boys felt like they had lost
a close friend at his passing, and indeed they had. So, when the
opportunity arose to solve a mystery involving his last will and
testament, they jumped at it!

If you are not at all familiar with Jupiter,
Pete and Bob, then let this serve as an introduction for you. If,
however, you have already made their acquaintance, feel free to
skip ahead to chapter one and commence with the main feature.

As I had learned from my old friend Hitch,
any introduction of The Three Investigators must begin with the
slightly overweight Jupiter Jones. Known as Jupe to his friends,
the First Investigator is logical of mind, courageous of heart, and
positively stubborn when it comes to solving a riddle. The Second
Investigator is Pete Crenshaw, whose muscular build and athletic
aptitude prove essential to the firm’s success time and again. And
no successful sleuthing agency could stay solvent without a
thorough and organized Records and Research department. That’s
where Bob Andrews comes in. Bob is quick on his feet and quick with
the facts. His meticulous notation allows all of us to enjoy the
adventures of the young detective team.

The boys reside in the coastal town of Rocky
Beach, California, which itself is nestled between the rolling
hills of Santa Monica and the glittering lights of Hollywood. Their
headquarters consists of a damaged thirty-foot mobile home trailer,
which they have buried deep within the bowels of the mighty junk
kingdom known as The Jones Salvage Yard – owned and operated by
Jupe’s aunt and uncle: Titus and Mathilda Jones.

Their motto is “We Investigate Anything,”
and this case most certainly proves it to be true. And now, enough
with the introductions. In the words of my old friend Alphred
Hichcocke: Lights! Camera! Action!

*

REGINALD CLARK

Goodbye To A Friend

“I STILL CAN’T believe it,” said Pete
Crenshaw. The tall boy sat on an orange crate in Jupiter Jones’s
workshop, located in a corner of The Jones Salvage Yard. “I didn’t
think I could ever feel this sad.”

Bob Andrews sighed and kicked at a pebble.
“It’s hard to believe Mr. Hichcocke is gone,” he said. “I know we
just came back from his funeral, but it still hasn’t really sunk in
yet.”

Jupiter was seated atop an old printing
press that he had rebuilt from spare parts a long time ago. “That’s
a common feeling for people who have lost a loved one, Records,” he
said, loosening his necktie. “We’ll just have to get along as best
we can, although I’m not sure what this means for the future of The
Three Investigators.”

Pete rubbed his chin and stared off into
space. Earlier that morning he, Jupe, and Bob had left Rocky Beach
with Jupiter’s Uncle Titus and Aunt Mathilda to drive to Hollywood
so they could attend a memorial service for their old friend,
Alphred Hichcocke, the famous motion picture director. They had
known Mr. Hichcocke since their very first case,
The Secret of
Terror Castle
, and the great director had introduced every case
of theirs right up to their last one. Now their mentor was gone and
the boys felt despondent.

“Jupe,” said Pete, “what’ll we do without
Mr. Hichcocke to introduce our cases?”

“I don’t know, Second,” the stocky boy
replied. “Right now I’m not sure I could solve a mystery if I
tried.”

The other boys nodded in agreement. It had
been hard to think clearly ever since they had heard the news. None
of them had ever known anyone close to them that had died. Although
Jupiter was an orphan who was adopted by his aunt and uncle, he was
much too young when his parents died to remember them very
clearly.

Hans and Konrad, the two Bavarian brothers
who helped out at the salvage yard, appeared at the entrance of the
workshop. They twisted their hats in their hands and shuffled their
feet. Hans cleared his throat. “Jupe, Pete, Bob. Konrad and I want
to say we feel much sorrow for Mr. Hichcocke. “

“Yah,” said Konrad sincerely, “anything we
will do for you if you need it.”

“Thanks Hans, thanks Konrad,” Jupiter said
quietly. “We appreciate it.”

“Hokay,” said Hans. “Anything you need, you
just give holler.” With that the two blond brothers walked sadly
away, their heads hung low.

***

Several days later the boys were still
feeling very dejected. To help take their minds off the loss of
their friend, they had actually volunteered to help Uncle Titus,
Hans, and Konrad replace some galvanized sheet metal that ran
around the inside perimeter of the salvage yard’s tall fence. The
sheet metal served as a roof that protected the yard’s better
merchandise from exposure to the sun and rain.

They were just going back to the front gates
to get the last piece of sheet metal when Bob noticed a blinking
red light bulb in Jupiter’s workshop. “The phone’s ringing in
headquarters!” he said. “Maybe it’s a case!”

The three boys forgot about the last piece
of roofing and scrambled for the battered trailer.

“Let’s take Door Four since we’re on the far
side of headquarters,” said Jupiter.

Door Four was one of the many secret
entrances the boys used to get in and out of the hidden trailer.
Emergency One, Tunnel Two, and Easy Three were the others. The boys
ran through a complex maze of junk and entered headquarters through
a side panel. Jupiter snatched up the phone.

“Three Investigators,” he said breathlessly,
“Jupiter Jones speaking.”

“Good day, young Jones. My name is Reginald
Clark,” said a voice that was very deep and commanding. “I wonder
if I might have a moment of your time.”

Jupiter quickly switched on the loudspeaker
he had rigged up for the telephone, which consisted of an old radio
and microphone. Now all three boys could hear the conversation at
once.

“Reginald Clark, the movie producer?” he
asked in surprise.

“The same,” confirmed Mr. Clark. “I realize
we have never met, but I was a good friend of Alphred Hichcocke –
you know we worked on several pictures together. I would like to
extend to you my sincere condolences.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Jupiter. “That’s very
kind of you.”

The deep baritone voice of Reginald Clark
paused for a moment and then continued. “There is a second reason
for my call, that is if The Three Investigators are still in
operation.”

“Yes, we are,” stated Jupiter. “What can we
do for you?”

“The matter is a delicate one,” said
Reginald Clark. “It would probably be best if we did not discuss it
over the phone. Can you be at my office at World Studios at nine
o’clock tomorrow morning?”

Jupiter looked at Bob and Pete, who both
nodded in agreement. “We’ll be there, Mr. Clark. Nine o’clock
sharp!”

“Very good,” boomed the producer. “Goodbye
for now.”

“Goodbye, sir,” said Jupiter. He hung up the
phone and looked at Bob and Pete. “I wonder what Mr. Clark wants to
see us about?”

“World Studios,” said Pete, picking up a
small marble bust of Alphred Hichcocke that held a place of honor
on top of their file cabinet. “Do you suppose it has to do with Mr.
Hichcocke?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow
to find out,” said Bob. “In the meantime, I better get to my job at
the library. I’m almost late and Miss Bennett said half the books
in the library need to be shelved! I’ll meet you guys at the front
gate tomorrow morning.”

“So long, Bob,” said Jupiter and Pete as
their chum disappeared down Tunnel Two.

“Come on, Pete,” Jupiter sighed. “Let’s get
back to work. Uncle Titus is probably in fits wondering where we’ve
disappeared to”

Pete solemnly returned the bust to the file
cabinet and clicked off the light as he left.

A Challenge From The
Grave

EARLY THE NEXT
morning, the boys stood waiting outside the large iron gates of The
Jones Salvage Yard. Each of them had been careful to scrub up extra
clean and to wear their best clothes, just as they did any other
time they had visited World Studios to see Alphred
Hichcocke.

“Here comes Worthington,” said Jupiter.

Worthington was the perfect English
chauffeur that accompanied the gleaming, gold-plated Rolls Royce
that Jupiter had won in a contest some time before. Through the
generosity of a client named August August, the boys had been
granted unlimited use of the magnificent car for as long as they’d
like. It made a grand impression whenever they visited World
Studios to ask Mr. Hichcocke to introduce a case. Worthington
turned around in the driver’s seat as the boys climbed in.

“Good morning, sirs,” he said. “I feared
that the transportation I provided to Mr. Hichcocke’s memorial
would be my last assignment for you. I’m very pleased to see that
that is not the case.”

“Not a chance, Worthington,” said Pete. “As
a matter of fact, we’re going to World Studios to meet with another
motion picture producer.”

“Very good, Master Crenshaw,” smiled
Worthington. “To World Studios it is!”

A short time later, the fantastic black car
purred through the gates of the huge studio. Ernie, the guard at
the gate, knew the car by sight and waved them through with a
friendly smile. Worthington drove the car up to a bungalow that
had: R. CLARK painted on a sign in neat letters.

The boys climbed out and Jupiter rapped on
the door before entering. Sitting at the receptionist’s desk was
Henrietta Larson, the personal secretary for Mr. Hichcocke before
he died. The boys all remembered the trouble they had to go through
to get past “Bossy Henrietta” when they first tried to meet Mr.
Hichcocke. Now it appeared she would be serving as the secretary
for Mr. Clark.