The Mystery of the Blazing Cliffs - M. V. Carey [21]
“She used to work in a livery stable in a place called Sunland,” said Mrs. Barron. “She heard about Rancho Valverde from a friend who lives in Santa Maria and she applied for a job. She wants to go to school and become a vet, so it’s to her advantage to live here and put her salary in the bank. She’s never had any credit—never had a charge account or a car loan or anything like that—so there wasn’t any credit rating for her, but Mr. Barron checked on her father. He’s all right. He works for a savings and loan company.”
“And what about the people who live in the cottages on the lane?” asked Jupe.
Mrs. Barron smiled. “They were all employed by Rancho Valverde before my husband bought the property. Some of them were born right here on the ranch. This is their home.”
She stood up. “It doesn’t seem possible that any of the people who work here could be involved in a hoax,” she said. “Look what they could lose. And what would they gain?”
“Mr. Barron is a wealthy man,” said Jupe. “Perhaps there’s a plan afoot to rob him.”
“Rob him of what?” she demanded. “There’s nothing of any great value here. We don’t collect expensive things. There isn’t even a large amount of cash here. My husband keeps his money in a bank, like everyone else. There’s a current account in the Pacific Coast National Bank in Santa Barbara. There’s a safe deposit box there too. My jewellery is in the box, and I suppose Mr. Barron has other valuables there, too.”
“Could there be something else?” said Jupiter. “It might be something you’ve overlooked—something you wouldn’t even think was important, but which someone else could want desperately. Or someone might want to trick your husband out of spite.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” said Mrs. Barron.
“If the appearance of the spaceship is a hoax,” said Jupe, “then there is a reason for the hoax, no matter how far-fetched the reason may be.”
Mrs. Barron sat thinking for a moment, then said, “I can’t imagine what it would be.
There simply isn’t anything here. You can see for yourself—”
She stopped short, stared at Jupe, then said, “Why, of course. You can see for yourself!”
“What, Mrs. Barron?” asked Jupe.
“Well, you could see our house,” she said. “Everything we have—everything that’s personal, that is—is in the house. Except for my jewellery, of course. Now suppose that after lunch, when Maria, who serves our meals, goes to her own house up the lane to have her siesta, and when my husband goes out to ride about the ranch—he does it every day—
suppose you come over and we’ll go through the house together. Something might occur to you. You might see something that I wouldn’t notice.”
“A good idea,” said Jupe.
“My husband would not approve, of course,” said Mrs. Barron.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” said Jupe.
“So we won’t say anything about it.”
Jupe grinned. “You can trust us, Mrs. Barron,” he said.
“Yes. I believe I can.”
She went out and Jupe leaned back against his pillow. He began pulling at his lower lip, a sure sign that he was deep in thought. His face was grave.
Pete grinned. “The great Sherlock Jones is thinking so hard that I can smell the wood burning,” he said. “Have you reached any conclusions, Sherlock?”
“No,” said Jupe. “I’m only considering a number of bewildering possibilities.”
“Which are?” said Bob.
“That someone is trying to isolate Charles Barron completely for some criminal purpose. He is being cut off from all contact with the outside world so that he can be blackmailed or cheated or held for ransom. Then there is the possibility that someone here on the ranch has a grudge against him and simply wants to torment him and hold him up to ridicule. And then there is the third possibility.”
“What’s that?” asked Pete.
“That our puzzle is intergalactic and we are truly being invaded by people from another world!”
Chapter 10
Trapped!
THE THREE INVESTIGATORS had their lunch at the long table in the ranch-house kitchen, together with Elsie Spratt, Hank Detweiler, and the rest of Charles Barron’s staff.
It was a silent meal, with each one absorbed in his own thoughts.