The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints - M. V. Carey [22]
Wilshire is.”
“It’s practically around the corner from me,” said Worthington. “I shall stroll over and ring the bell.”
“That’s fine, Worthington,” said Jupiter. “And what will you say if someone opens the door?”
Worthington scarcely hesitated. “I shall inform them that I am chairman of the Volunteer Committee for the Beautification of Wilshire Boulevard,” said Worthington. “I shall ask their opinion of putting potted shrubs along the sidewalks. If they are receptive to the idea, I can ask them to join the committee.”
“Wonderful, Worthington!” cried Jupiter.
Worthington promised to call Headquarters within half an hour, and hung up briskly.
“There are times when I think we should take Worthington into our agency,”
laughed Jupiter after he reported the chauffeur’s plan to Bob.
“He considers himself a member already,” said Bob. “What do you think he’ll find at that Wilshire address?”
“Possibly nothing,” admitted Jupiter. “An empty house, or perhaps an apartment with no tenant. But at least he’ll be able to tell us something about the neighbourhood. I like the idea of a Volunteer Committee for the Beautification of Wilshire Boulevard. We could join the committee and ring doorbells in Mr.
Demetrieff’s area, and perhaps glean some information on him.”
“City people never know their neighbours,” said Bob.
“Sometimes they know more than one thinks.” Jupiter put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “Suppose it is a neighbourhood of elderly people,”
he said. “Elderly people are home all day. They look out of their windows. They watch what is going on. I wonder how many crimes have been solved because some little old lady who slept lightly got up in the middle of the night to see who was making a noise on the street?”
Bob grinned. “Remind me to be careful when I go past Miss Hopper’s.”
“I think she doesn’t miss a great deaf,” conceded Jupiter. He opened the book on the crown jewels which Bob had brought with him and stared at the photograph of the Azimov crown. “It is beautiful, in a barbaric way,” he said. “I suppose it was typical of old Duke Federic to have it made in the shape of a helmet.”
“He must have been a real charmer,” said Bob. He shuddered. “Executing Ivan the Bold was bad enough. He didn’t have to stick his head up on the castle wall.”
“They did things like that in those days,” said Jupe. “It was supposed to serve as an example, and I am sure it did. The Azimovs survived for 400 years afterwards.”
The telephone rang.
“That can’t be the Wilshire Boulevard Beautification Committee already,”
exclaimed Bob. “He wouldn’t have had time to do his stuff.”
But it was Worthington. “I am sorry, Master Jupiter,” the chauffeur reported, “but no one lives at 2901 Wilshire Boulevard. It is a small business building, and at this hour it is locked.”
“Oh,” said Jupiter.
“However, there was a light in the outer lobby, and I could read the building directory,” Worthington announced brightly. “I made a list of the companies occupying the building. They are the Acme Photostat Service, a Dr H. H.
Carmichael, the Jensen Secretarial Bureau, the Lapathian Board of Trade, Sherman Editorial—”
“Wait a minute!” cried Jupiter. “What was that last?”
“Sherman Editorial Bureau,” said Worthington.
“No, the one before that? Did you say Lapathian – ?”
“Lapathian Board of Trade,” said Worthington.
“Worthington,” declared Jupiter, “I think you have told us exactly what we want to know.”
“I have?” Worthington sounded astonished. “There was no Mr. Demetrieff listed,”
he reminded Jupiter.
“Well, if you were to ask for him at the Lapathian Board of Trade,” said Jupiter,
“they might tell you that he’s vacationing in Rocky Beach. Then again, they might not. Thanks, Worthington. And good night.”
Jupiter put down the telephone. “Our new tenant at Hilltop House hails from the Lapathian Board of Trade,” he told Bob. He looked again at the picture of the crown.
“The scarlet eagle was the device of Lapathia, and a favourite