The Mystery of the Hichcocke Inheritance (12 page)

Lightning crashed again – very close this
time. The lights flickered and rain beat brutally against the
window pane. Jupiter spoke up.

“Mr. Fitchhorn is right,” he said calmly.
“They’re not the one dressing up as the ghost.”

Everyone turned to look at Jupiter.

“What?” Patricia cried. “Then if they’re not
the ghost, w-who is?”

Suddenly Bob stood up and cleared his
throat. “Would you mind if I guessed, Jupe?”

Jupiter, looking a little surprised, nodded
reluctantly to Bob. The stocky boy clearly enjoyed being in the
spotlight, but he wasn’t above giving Bob a fair shot if the
smaller boy thought he knew the answer.

Pete scratched his head in confusion. “Why
am I the only one that doesn’t know what’s going on around
here?”

Bob smiled and pointed a finger.

“The ghost is none other than the butler –
Winston!”

Nobody Move!

THE LANKY BRITISH butler sat up like he had been
stung by a hornet. “What’s the meaning of this!” he cried. “Why,
that’s preposterous! The idea of me scheming against my own
employers is utterly ridiculous!”

Patricia looked to Jupiter in astonishment.
“I have to agree with Winston,” she said severely, “there must be
some mistake…”

“I always knew he was up to no good,”
Jebediah scowled, approaching the servant with his cane in hand. “I
didn’t trust ye from the start. Using poor Julia like that!”

Winston Abernathy gave Jupiter a deadly
look.

“You’d better explain yourself, young man.
As it is, I will be tendering my resignation,” he fumed, glaring at
Patricia. “I have never been so insulted in my life!”

Jupiter calmly opened the oversized envelope
he had been holding and produced the two eight by ten pictures –
one of Stella Fitchhorn and Jebediah O’Connell, the other of
Timothy Fitchhorn and Winston. He tossed them onto the coffee
table.

Lightning crackled as everyone looked at the
pictures. The lights blinked off and on again and the wind howled
and moaned outside the intimidating window.

“Ben and I went into London and had these
pictures run through the Interpol database at the American Embassy.
I’ll admit that my true intention was to find out the background of
the Fitchhorns and Mr. O’Connell. I suspected they were criminals,
but it was the photo I took of Mr. Fitchhorn and Winston that
really struck gold!

“You see, when I snapped the photo of Mr.
Fitchhorn, Winston was kneeling beside him, helping to clean up the
coffee that Fitchhorn spilled to hide the newspaper photo. When
Interpol checked the pictures, they not only looked into the
Fitchhorns and Jebediah’s background, but also Winston Abernathy’s.
And what they found was pure dynamite!

“I’m afraid your butler has made a
successful career out of marrying servant women just like Julia so
he can gain access to some of the wealthiest houses in Europe. In
fact, he’s wanted in the Netherlands, Ireland, France, and many
other countries for pulling the same scheme.

“I think it is also safe to say,” Jupiter
added, “that Winston and the Fitchhorns know each other – but
rather than one ratting on the other, spoiling both their chances
at the fortune, they decided to keep quiet and work together. I
suspect that is why Winston set the newspaper in front of Mr.
Fitchhorn – to let him see that the police were on his trail, as
well as to keep his own secret safe. For if the Fitchhorns were
exposed, they would most certainly expose Winston as well!”

Patricia looked ashen-faced. She confronted
the butler. “Is...is this true, Winston? Were you planning on
robbing us?”

“Absolutely not!” the butler cried. “And
even if I were, these young cretins haven’t a shred of evidence!
How do you expect to prove these outrageous allegations, young
man?”

The stocky First Investigator crossed his
arms and shrugged his shoulders, as if the answer were as obvious
as the nose on his face. “By examining your shoes,” he said
serenely.

All eyes in the room looked down at the
butler’s shoes.

They were muddy!

“I ran over from the house when I heard
Julia scream,” he explained. “Anyone can see it’s raining
outside.”

“But there’s a stone path from the cottage
to the back door,” countered Jupiter. “And more importantly, when
Ben and I pulled up the driveway in his car, we saw someone in the
garden by the light of the headlamps – in the exact location of the
sundial!”

“That’s why Jupe and Ben had to take off
their shoes and socks!” cried Bob.

“Exactly,” said Jupiter. “Ben and I gave
chase into the muddy garden, but without flashlights it was too
dark to see anything. However, the lightning provided enough
illumination to see that the sundial was tipped over and a large
round container had been removed from underneath!

“You carefully stayed off the stone path so
as not to leave any footprints leading to your door. It’s raining,
so the footprints would have only lasted moments, but we were right
behind you. You couldn’t have known we didn’t have flashlights, but
you didn’t want to take the chance of us following the muddy
footprints to your cottage door. Just the opposite of when you
stayed off the dew-covered grass the morning before.

“I’ll admit I was still uncertain of who the
ghost was when Ben and I came inside. Mainly because I observed
that both Jebediah and Winston’s clothes were wet. Then I
remembered that Jebediah often went for walks in the rain – but
never through the muddy garden! The first thing I did when I saw
him was to examine his shoes. Cousin Jeb’s were wet, but not
muddy.”

Jebediah nodded his head in agreement.
“Aye,” he said, “the wind caught my umbrella and blew it inside
out. I was soaked to the bone by the time I heard poor Julia scream
and I ran inside!”

Jupiter nodded and continued. “When we all
met in here, I made sure to ‘accidentally’ drop something near
Winston so I could examine his shoes. When I observed they were
caked in mud, I knew I had found the right man – or should I say
‘ghost’?”

Winston looked outraged. “That still proves
nothing!” he snorted. “Your entire story is based purely on
conjecture and circumstantial evidence!”

Now Bob stepped in. “If Jupe is wrong, then
how did you know that Julia had bumped her head when she fainted in
the kitchen?”

Winston flushed. “Why...Why...Don’t be
ridiculous! I was standing right there! Everyone saw me!”

Bob shook his head. “No, you weren’t there.
I heard Julia scream when I was upstairs. When I came running into
the kitchen, Pete was at her side and Patricia was standing by the
counter.”

“That’s right,” Pete exclaimed. “I remember
now! The Fitchhorns and Cousin Jeb rushed in right after Bob. But
Winston didn’t come into the kitchen until after Julia said she had
bumped her head!”

“You knew,” accused Bob, “because you were
standing at the bottom of the cellar stairs! Probably changing out
of the ghost costume.”

Jupiter confronted the butler. “All the
pieces of the puzzle are beginning to come together now. You
figured out the riddle of the jukebox record – but too late! You
knew Ben and I would be returning any minute, so you had to act
fast! You created a diversion by dressing up as the ghost and
scaring your own fiancé. When everyone came running, you slipped
off the costume and ran out the secret exit in the back room of the
cellar. Next you made a bee-line for the sundial in the garden. And
you would have gotten away with it if Ben and I hadn’t returned
just as you were pulling the box out of the ground!”

Jupiter gave the butler a smug look. “Yes,
you were about to make your escape when Ben and I pulled up the
drive, catching you in the headlights. That startled you – but only
for a moment! You couldn’t have had time to hide the treasure very
well. I believe that if we search the Abernathy’s cottage, we’ll
find whatever was buried beneath the sundial. And most likely a
dress, wig, and noose as well!”

Rage passed over the tall butler’s face.
“Why, you no good little punk! I’ve had enough of your meddling!”
Suddenly the butler held a small, deadly pistol in his hand. He
waved it desperately. “Nobody move!” he barked hoarsely.

“Winston!” Patricia cried out in shock.
“How...how could you?”

“It was easier than you think!” the butler
sneered. “The hardest part was catering to you fat-cats and your
every whim while I learned where all the safes in the house were
located! This job proved trickier than most – but how could I pass
up a challenge from Alphred Hichcocke?” He waved the gun menacingly
and nodded toward the door. “Everybody out!” he ordered. “I want
everyone in the cellar!”

“Timothy, do something!” Stella Fitchhorn
sobbed hysterically. “He’s going to make off with the
treasure!”

“Quiet you!” Fitchhorn snapped. “Do you want
to get us shot?”

“Do as he says,” said Jupiter boldly. The
First Investigator raised his hands above his head and marched
slowly toward the door. He was followed closely by Bob and Pete,
who looked at their leader in surprise. It wasn’t like Jupiter
Jones to give in so easily.

“You’ll pay for what you did to Julia!”
Jebediah swore. “If I have to search all of Europe, I’ll track ye
down and find ye!”

“Into the cellar,” commanded Winston. “It
doesn’t pay to threaten a man with a gun!” He waved the pistol
again. “Anyone tries anything funny and I put a hole in them!”

The group marched peacefully down the hall
and into the brightly lit kitchen.

“Open the door, Sherlock!” Winston growled
to Jupiter, pointing to the cellar door in the pantry.

Jupiter did as he was told.

“Now go down those steps – all of you! And
no tricks or I shoot!”

The captives slowly descended the steps into
the dank, creepy cellar.

“Now take out that lightbulb and throw it up
to me!” the butler commanded.

Again, Jupiter did as he was told. He
unscrewed the single light-bulb and tossed it up to Winston’s
waiting hand.

Winston Abernathy let the bulb drop on the
stone steps, shattering it into a hundred pieces. “Don’t bother
trying to use the secret exit,” he laughed, “I’ve locked it from
the outside. You’ll also be pleased to know that I have given Julia
a strong sleeping sedative, so she won’t be awake until tomorrow
afternoon at the earliest!”

With a sneer the tall butler closed the
cellar door with a sickening slam. The group of captives were
trapped – engulfed within the utter darkness of the cellar!

The Ghost Of Molly
Thibidoux

STELLA FITCHHORN LET out a frightened squeak
when the cellar door was slammed shut, then began to sob in
hysterics.

“I can’t stand the dark!” she bawled. “I’m
claustrophobic! Timothy, you’ve got to get me out of here this
instant!”

“Oh, pipe down!” her husband huffed. The
Three Investigators heard the fat man climb the steps, the glass
crunching beneath his feet. He threw his shoulder against the
cellar door. It remained tightly sealed, not moving an inch. After
several repeated attempts, he gave up. “It’s bolted from the other
side. This door isn’t moving until Julia unlocks it tomorrow,” he
panted. Then he spoke to Jupiter. “If you’ve got any bright ideas,
kid, now is the time for them.”

Jupiter remained oddly silent.

Somewhere in the dark Pete spoke up. “Hey,
maybe we should try to find the secret door in the back room. Maybe
Winston was only bluffing about it being locked.”

“A secret door ye say?” said Jebediah. “Not
surprising in this house, I suppose. If we keep together and follow
the shelves, we could find it with little problem.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” said
Patricia. “The sooner we get out of this cellar, the better. What
do you think Jupiter? Jupiter?”

“Hey Jupe,” said Bob nervously. “Are you
still with us?”

“Shhhh!” hissed Jupiter from the top of the
black steps. “Listen!”

The group crowded close to the thick door at
the top of the stairs and strained their ears. For a long moment
there wasn’t a sound. Then the group heard muffled thumps and
footsteps.

“Someone is prowling around up there!”
whispered Ben.

“It must be Winston,” breathed Bob. “Why is
he taking so long to escape?”

“Maybe he didn’t find the treasure after
all,” guessed Patricia. “He might have come back to search the
house some more.”

In the darkness, the group huddled close
together on the steps. They held their breath, listening intently
for more sounds of the intruder.

Suddenly, a long, horrifying scream made
their hair stand on end as it gurgled out into silence.

“Creeps!” Pete yelped. “That was
Winston!”

“The ghost – the ghost of old Molly
Thibidoux got to him!” Jebediah whispered triumphantly. “Serves the
scoundrel right for what he did to poor Julia.”

“I hear something else,” Ben said urgently.
“More footsteps! And they’re coming this way!”

Suddenly there was a mad rush in the
oppressive darkness to get away from the cellar door. Pete was in
the lead. “I’ve already seen the ghost once,” the Second
Investigator cried in alarm. “And that was one time too many!” He
began feeling his way down the steps, but Jupiter grabbed his
arm.

“Wait a minute, Second. Let’s see if our
‘ghost’ opens the door for us!”

“What?” everyone cried together.

But Jupiter remained firmly on the top
step.

“This is no time for jokes, Jupiter!” said
Patricia in a shaky voice. “Whoever is up there could be very
desperate. Even dangerous!”

“I don’t think so,” said Jupiter. “In fact,
I’m certain that it’s a friendly spirit.”

“How do you know, Jupe?” asked Bob. But
Jupiter remained mysteriously silent.

“I sure do hope you know what you’re doing,
First,” Pete said uneasily.