The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints - M. V. Carey [36]
“Interesting,” said Jupiter.
Bob circled the other vase, examining
the band of eagles. “All of these have two
heads,” he reported.
“Maybe my grandfather made a
mistake,” said Tom.
“The Potter does not make mistakes
such as this,” said Jupiter. “His designs are
always perfect. If he intended to put a
band of double-headed eagles on this urn,
he would have done so.”
“It could be another decoy,” said Bob,
“like that secret compartment in the
bedroom. Is there anything ink?”
Jupiter tried to lift the top off the urn.
It did not budge. He tried to unscrew it,
and it did not unscrew. He examined the
sides of the piece, and the pedestal, which
was cemented in place on the steps. He
pressed on the single-headed eagle, as he
had pressed on the eye embedded in the
plaque. Nothing gave way.
“Really a decoy,” he murmured. “It
was never intended to be opened.”
Chief Reynolds came out on to the porch. “If I didn’t know better,” he announced to anyone who cared to listen, “I’d say the place was haunted.”
“It is mysterious,” Jupiter agreed. He went on to tell the chief of the strange chemical odour he had detected on the newly burned footprints.
“Was it anything you recognized?” asked the chief. “Paraffin? Anything like that?”
“No,” said Jupiter. “It was entirely unfamiliar – a sharp, acid smell.”
“Hm,” said the chief. “The lab has samples of the charred linoleum. Maybe they can find out something. You boys have anything else you can tell me about this thing?”
The Three Investigators looked at one another, and then at Tom Dobson.
“No, sir,” said Tom.
“Then you can leave,” said the chief, rather curtly.
“Right,” agreed Bob. “I have to go home and change my clothes and get to the library.”
Jupiter made for his bicycle. “Aunt Mathilda will be wondering,” he said.
The Three Investigators waved a hasty good-bye to Tom Dobson and started down the highway towards Rocky Beach. At the intersection near The Jones Salvage Yard, Jupiter pulled his bike to the kerb. The other two boys also stopped.
“I wonder if the jolly fisherman is connected with the disturbances,” said Jupiter.
“He’s just a creep,” declared Pete.
“Perhaps,” said Jupiter. “However, he has a way of being around just before things happen – or just after. He was parked across from The Potter’s when the house was searched and I was knocked down. He attempted to call on Mrs Dobson last evening, not long before the second set of flaming footprints appeared. He could have been the man who shot at us from the hillside. We are sure the two men at Hilltop House didn’t do that.”
“But why would he?”
“Who knows?” said Jupe. “Perhaps he is a confederate of the men at Hilltop House. If we could solve the secret of The Potter, we might know many things.” Jupe reached into his pocket and took out the document he had discovered in the dummy fireplace. “Here.” He handed it to Bob. “Is there any possibility that you could identify the language on this parchment, or perhaps even translate it?”
“I’m willing to bet it’s in Lapathian,” said Bob. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Good. And also, if we could find out more about the Azimovs it could be helpful.
The name Kerenov on that document is most provocative.”
“The crown-maker? Right. I’ll try.” Bob pocketed the envelope and rode on.
“What time is it?” Pete asked nervously. “My mum will be having a fit.”
“It’s only nine,” said Jupiter. “Will she be so worried? I thought we might pay a visit to Miss Hopper.”
“At the Seabreeze Inn? What’s she got to do with it?”
“Not a thing. She is, however, the landlady of that jolly fisherman, and she usually takes an acute interest in the welfare of her guests.”
“Okay,” said Pete. “Let’s see her. But let’s not be all day about it. I want to get home before Mum starts phoning your Aunt Mathilda.”
“That would be wise,” Jupiter conceded.
The boys found Miss Hopper in the lobby of the Seabreeze Inn, in worried consultation with Marie, the maid.
“It can’t be helped,” Miss Hopper was saying. “You’ll just have to skip 113 and come back to it after lunch.”
“Serve him right