The White Elephant Mystery (17 page)

“Well, well, well!” the man said in a deep rumble and his voice was almost jolly now. “So! The Boy Wonder, the youthful sleuth, decided to come up and call on us. We hope you brought a calling card with you, because you know we’re old-fashioned. We always like to have people leave their cards on the tray over there on the hall table. It gives us something to remember them by!”

The man chuckled ghoulishly at his own joke for a moment and then snarled, “Get up those steps, you nosy little punk!”

When Djuna, because of the terror that was holding him in its frightening clutches, could not move, the man took two strides, grabbed his shoulder to whirl him around toward the stairs and gave him a push.

“I got a pal upstairs who’ll be glad to see you,” he said as he prodded his gun in Djuna’s back to urge him upward.

Why, Djuna asked himself desperately, didn’t I take a chance on getting to Cannonball and telling him everything, instead of coming up here alone?

“My pal is going to probably hug you a couple of times when he sees you,” the man behind Djuna remarked as he jabbed the gun in his back. “He says he don’t like my company, but I think seeing you is going to cheer him up.”

Why, Djuna asked himself even more bitterly, won’t people believe me when I get an idea? Why won’t they listen instead of telling me I’m imagining things?

“It’s going to cheer him up the way the judge cheered me up when he gave me eight years, with no time off for good behavior,” the man behind Djuna chuckled, as he jabbed the gun in Djuna’s back again to send him up another flight of stairs to the third floor and down a hallway to a room at the end of the house.

The door to the room was open and brilliant sunlight was streaming in the windows as the man pushed Djuna into the room. For an instant the sunlight blinded him, and then he saw the abject-looking figure that was tied to a ladder-back chair at the other side of the room.

“Socker!”
Djuna whispered in a shocked voice—because Socker looked as though he had been put through a meat-chopping machine. His hair and clothes were disheveled, and his face was red and raw around two black- and-blue eyes, one of which was nearly closed.

“Hello, kid,” Socker said evenly after he had stared at Djuna for a moment. “So they got you, too, eh?”

“Well, aren’t you
glad
to see each other?” the big beefy man said as he slipped his automatic into a shoulder holster. “I thought you’d both be overjoyed at getting together. Maybe you’d preferred to meet someplace else, eh?” He threw back his head and roared with laughter at his own joke again as Djuna and Socker regarded each other with anxious eyes.

Djuna’s eyes traveled from Socker’s battered face down to his wrists, which were lashed together with heavy twine. There was no twine securing his body to the chair in which he sat except that his ankles were bound to the two front legs of the chair.

And as Djuna stared at Socker’s ankles his body stiffened; because he saw that Socker—probably while the beefy man had been downstairs capturing him, Djuna thought—had loosened the strands of twine around his ankles so that they were hanging loose. Socker scowled and shook his head almost imperceptibly to divert Djuna’s gaze from his ankles.

“Yes,” Socker said, staring at the big man in front of him with his one good eye, “we’d like to meet someplace where you aren’t, you big mealy-mouthed bag of beef!”

The big man’s face turned from crimson to purple as he glared at Socker. Then his hand shot inside his coat again and as he pulled out the automatic he slapped Socker across the face with his other hand.

Djuna could see the imprint of his fingers on Socker’s face and he cried out and started forward before he could check himself. The big man swung the hand forward with which he had given Socker a backhand blow and caught Djuna alongside the head with it. Djuna staggered backward. As the man started to follow him with his hand raised for another blow, there was a thump behind him.

The big man started to whirl and was halfway around when Djuna realized what Socker had done. He had stood up on his feet, suddenly, and moved a couple of steps before he dropped down behind the big man, on his hands and knees.

Although Djuna was half-dazed from the blow the big man had struck him, his mind worked automatically when he saw Socker directly behind the big man’s legs. Djuna saw that the automatic the big man held was pointed at the wall. He took three starting steps, left his feet, and rammed the big man in the stomach with his head.

“Whock!”
the big man said as Djuna hit him, and the next instant he toppled over Socker’s back and sprawled across the floor, the automatic skidding out of his hand to bang against a baseboard.

Socker dove across the room with his bound wrists in front of him. His right hand closed around the butt of the automatic as the big man rolled over on his stomach and started to rise to his feet. Socker scrambled to his feet, and, as the big man started to heave himself up from his hands and knees, gave him a terrific kick on the spot he usually used for sitting down. The big man toppled forward on his face again and Socker put a foot on his back and said, “Stay there, big boy, unless you want to sop up a couple of these lead pellets you’ve been threatening to put in me!”

“Well, kid,” Socker said trying to grin, “we always did work best together! Untie my hands, please.” As the big man started to raise his head Socker placed his foot against the back of his head and pushed sharply. The big man’s face plopped back on the floor. “Stay quiet!” Socker ordered. “I ought to beat you to a pulp for the way you mauled me and I will if you don’t!”

“Jeepers! I’d sort of like to hit him once for the way he hit me!” Djuna said.

“I guess we’ll have to forgo the pleasure, kid,” Socker said, and added, “How and why did they get you, Djuna?”

“They didn’t,” Djuna said. “I came here by myself. He met me at the front door with that automatic.”

“So,” Socker said. “That was what he was chuckling about. He saw someone coming up the drive from the end window there, and said, ‘Here comes someone to keep you company.’ But what did you come
here
for?”

“Golly, it’s a long story, Mr. Furlong,” Djuna said. “I was going to tell you everything this morning and then you disappeared.”

“They faked a phone call from the
Morning Bugle
and gave me an assignment in Farmholme,” Socker said. “They put me on the spot and half killed me and brought me here. Hurry up with those knots. We’ve got to get out of here. They’re threatening to plant me in the London River.”

“I know, Socker,” Djuna said. “I was here last night, too, and heard a lot of things. We—”

“You were
here
last night!” Socker said. “I told you—”

“I know, Mr. Furlong,” Djuna said miserably. “I’ll tell you all about it.” He stood up, holding the ropes that had bound Socker.

“Okay, hold this gat,” Socker ordered, “and if he makes one little wrong move let him have it. Shoot to kill!” He turned his head and winked at Djuna. “We’ll truss up this overgrown carcass of Aberdeen Angus and get on our way.”

“I came here to get something, Mr. Furlong,” Djuna said. “We’ve got to get it before we go. It’s too long to tell you everything now, but I know just about where it is.”

“We’re not going to get anything in
this
place, Djuna!” Socker said. He ran the twine up from the man’s ankles to tie his hands behind his back as he lay on his stomach on the floor. “We’re going to scram before they close in on us.”

“Oh, we’ve got to get it, Socker!” Djuna said earnestly. “Everything depends on it. The stories you want about the grifters, and
everything!
“

“All right!” Socker moaned as he stood up. “Anything for a story. Where do we find it?”

“In the basement,” Djuna said as he started for the door with the automatic still in his hand. He stopped and said, “He can’t get away, can he?”

“Not unless he’s Houdini,” Socker said. “Gimme that automatic, then lead the way to the cellar, where they can trap us without any trouble at all.”

“Jeepers, I don’t know where the cellar is,” Djuna said. “We’ll just have to go down to the first floor and start looking for a way to get in it.”

They hurried down the two flights of stairs to the first floor and behind a door under the stairs that led upward they found stairs that went down to the basement. Socker snapped a switch on the wall inside the door. Garlands of cobwebs sprang into sight at the bottom of the steps as the light came on. Their footsteps were silent as they went cautiously down them, Socker leading with the automatic still clutched in his right hand.

They paused at the bottom of the steps and surveyed the enormous cellar that was divided by low partitions into a laundry room, a section that contained a large coal burning furnace, a section with hanging cupboards enclosed in wire for canned goods, and a larger section with a long work table, covered with tools, along one wall. The floor of the cellar was covered with concrete and the walls with plaster.

“Golly, we
would
be cornered if they found us down here, wouldn’t we?” Djuna said in a hushed voice.

“Yes,” Socker said. “But this little babe will give them something to keep ’em busy for a couple of minutes.” He patted the automatic he held affectionately.

“Which is the east wall?” Djuna asked eagerly.

“Let’s see,” Socker said and he turned and faced toward the front door of the house. “That one,” he added, and pointed at the wall behind the workbench.

As Djuna started toward the east wall of the room, Socker said, “Look, kid, don’t you think
I
ought to know
what
we’re looking for?”

“Oh, jeepers, Mr. Furlong,” Djuna said and his voice was unsteady because of his excitement. “We’ve got to tap the plaster on that east wall until the sound tells us there is a safe in the wall underneath the plaster.”

“A safe!” Socker exploded. “That’s all we’re looking for! And what’s in the safe?”

“Golly, Mr. Furlong, let’s start looking and see if we can find it before they get here. If—”

“Before
who
gets here, Djuna?” Socker asked in exasperation.

“Sonny Grant and that man Ciro,” Djuna said. “They tried to kill me this morning, Mr. Furlong. And then they had me followed, but the taxi driver helped me lose the man who was following me in a black sedan. He—” Djuna picked up a light hammer from the work bench, climbed up on it and began to tap the wall just below the ceiling, listening carefully as he tapped.

“He
what
, Djuna?” Socker asked as he, too, picked up a light ball hammer and began to tap.

“He?”
Djuna said, miserably. “I forgot what I was talking about. I—I can’t talk and listen, too, Mr. Furlong. I mean I can’t talk and listen to the sounds in the wall at the same time. I—”

“Hey!” Socker said and he tapped on a spot that was almost exactly in the center of the east wall. Djuna stopped with his hammer poised and listened very carefully while Socker tapped on the same spot again.

“It sound different!” Djuna cried excitedly. “Maybe that’s it. Here, take this cold chisel and chip the plaster away.” He took a medium-sized cold chisel from a canvas loop on the workbench and handed it to Socker. Socker tapped a few times more and then placed the cold chisel at the edge of the area that had a different sound, and began to chip.

A small piece of plaster, about a quarter of an inch thick, fell away and they saw the bright gleam of metal underneath.

“That must be it, Socker!” Djuna said and began to chip at the other side of the area with another cold chisel he found on the bench.

The only thing that could be heard in the silence of the gloomy old cellar was the tap of their hammers on the cold chisels and the sound of their breathing. Perspiration dropped from their faces.

“It’s it, kid!” Socker said, and now he was as excited as Djuna as they finished chipping away all of the plaster covering the wall safe and the little dial that was in the middle of the safe’s door. “But
how
do we get in it? We can’t do it with these cold chisels!”

“I know how,” Djuna said and his hands were trembling as he reached down inside his basque shirt and pulled out the little white elephant.

“See!” he said, and he reached in his pocket and pulled out Miss Annie’s magnifying glass. He gave it to Socker and then held the little elephant upside down and said, “Look at the numerals on the legs of the elephant, and the zero on the belly!”

Socker took the magnifying glass and peered at the tiny numerals scratched on the legs of the white elephant and Djuna said, excitedly, “You see, maybe we start with zero, the numeral in the center. Then we turn the dial left to 8, right to 5, left to 3, and right to 9. That will open it! You’ll see. I’m certain it will, Socker!”

“Go ahead!” Socker said weakly, and he watched while Djuna spun the dial to zero. From there he turned it left 8, right 5, left 3, and right 9.

Djuna took a deep breath and moved his hand from the dial to the bar that opened the safe. He turned it to the right and something clicked inside.

He pulled gently and the safe door swung open!

“Well, I’ll be!” Socker said and they both peered inside with wide eyes. There was a short metal box, with a top and a clasp on the end, and on top of the box were several folded sheets of foolscap that were encased in a light blue binder.

Socker lited the blue binder and read:

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

OF

ALVAH O. GRANT

“That’s it!”
Djuna said.
“That’s it!”

“Yes, that’s it,” a voice said from the bottom of the cellar stairs. “Don’t go for that gun, Socker. You’ll be a dead duck before you get to it.”

Djuna whirled around but Socker turned slowly after he had dropped the Last Will and Testament of Alvah O. Grant on the workbench. He saw Sonny Grant and Tony Ciro coming toward him with automatics in their hands, and there was nothing that faintly resembled friendliness in their faces.

“Hey, what gives, Sonny?” Socker said. “Have you joined those cutthroats that are working around your show, too?”