The Mystery of the Blazing Cliffs - M. V. Carey [23]
“It was just like this in Wisconsin,” said Mrs. Barron. She gestured towards the huge old furnace near the coal bin. “Charles wanted it to be the way he remembered it—furnace and all.”
Jupe looked around at boxes and crates and trunks that stood on the cement floor.
Through an opening in the back wall he saw another flight of stairs leading out of the cellar, directly to the outside. It was the old-fashioned kind of cellar entrance, with a hinged sheet of plywood over the stairwell serving as both a roof and a door.
Then Jupe’s eye was caught by an enclosure in one corner of the basement, reaching from floor to ceiling. It was made of heavy metal mesh, and it had a sturdy metal door secured with a padlock. Curious, Jupe crossed the room, peered through the mesh, and saw the stocks of rifles standing on a rack against the wall. There were boxes of ammunition on the floor, and there were explosives, too. A second gun rack on the far wall held shotguns and handguns.
“Quite an arsenal,” said Jupe. “Was that in the basement in Wisconsin, too?”
Mrs. Barron shook her head, and her face was sad. “It’s new,” she said. “Charles had it put in about six months ago. He … he felt that the time would come when we would have to protect ourselves.”
“I see,” said Jupe.
He turned away from the guns and began to open the trunks that stood around. They were all empty, and so were the boxes and the crates.
“Nothing,” he said at last.
“No,” said Mrs. Barron. “We don’t really use the basement much.”
The two went up the stairs to the kitchen, and then Mrs. Barron led the way up the back stairs to the second floor.
There were servants’ rooms near the stairway, but they were unused and empty. In the other rooms were huge antique beds with rich brocade spreads. Jupe saw bureaus topped with marble and mirrors that reached to the ceiling. Mrs. Barron went into her room and opened closet doors and bureau drawers.
“There’s nothing, really—not even trinkets. I don’t wear much jewellery here at the ranch,” she said. “I just keep a string of pearls and my engagement ring, and everything else is in the safe deposit box.”
“Is there an attic?” said Jupe. “And what about pictures? Are any of the pictures here in the house valuable? And what about papers? Does Mr. Barron have any documents that could be the bait for some swindler?”
Mrs. Barron smiled. “Our pictures are family portraits, but they’re not valuable. Except to Charles, of course. About papers, I wouldn’t really know. I don’t understand much about finance and business. Charles keeps everything in his office.”
Mrs. Barron went out past the front stairs and Jupe followed her. A small room in the southeast corner of the house was even stiffer and more old-fashioned than the ones Jupe had already seen. It was furnished as an office, with a roll-top desk, a leather-covered armchair, an oak swivel chair, and several oak filing cabinets. There was a fireplace in this room, and over the mantle there was a steel engraving of a factory building.
“That’s a picture of Barron International,” said Mrs. Barron, gesturing towards the engraving. “The factory that made the first Barron fortune. I don’t come in here often, but …”
Mrs. Barron stopped. From the driveway outside someone was calling her name. She went to the side window and threw up the sash.
“Mrs. Barron!” cried a woman who stood in the driveway below. “Please, can you come quick! Nilda Ramirez fell from a tree and her arm is bleeding.”
“Be right there!” called Mrs. Barron.
She closed the window again. “You get on with the search,” she told Jupe. “I’m sure you don’t need me hovering at your elbow. I’ll get the first-aid kit and go to see about the little Ramirez girl. Don’t be too long. Charles will be back from his ride soon.”
“I’ll hurry,” Jupe promised.
Mrs. Barron went out, and Jupe heard her rummaging in the big bathroom that opened off the front hall. Then she went