The Mystery of the Invisible Dog - M. V. Carey [1]
The boys followed Mr. Prentice up the stairs to the balcony. Only a few feet from the top of the stairs was a door which Fenton Prentice unlocked. He ushered the boys into a room with a beamed ceiling and a chandelier which appeared to be very old and precious.
On one table stood a small artificial Christmas tree, decorated with exquisite little ornaments.
“Please sit down.” Mr. Prentice waved vaguely toward some chairs, then locked his door behind him.
“It was good of you to come so quickly,” he said. “I was afraid that, this being Christmas week, you might have made other plans.”
“As it happens, we find ourselves with a little free time,” said Jupiter graciously. “We have few commitments before school resumes next week.”
Pete choked back a laugh. The three boys had no plans at all for the rest of the holidays, other than avoiding Jupe’s Aunt Mathilda. She had plenty of plans. All of them involved putting the boys to work!
“And now,” Jupiter went on grandly, “if you will kindly tell us why you summoned us, we will determine whether or not we can be of assistance.”
“Whether or not!” echoed Mr. Prentice. “But you must help me. I need action immediately!” His voice shook suddenly and went up in pitch. “I cannot put up with what has been happening here!” He paused a moment to calm himself, and continued,
“You are the Three Investigators, are you not? This is your card?” He removed a business card from his wallet and showed it to the boys.
THE THREE INVESTIGATORS
“We Investigate Anything”
? ? ?
First Investigator — Jupiter Jones
Second Investigator — Peter Crenshaw
Records and Research — Bob Andrews
Jupe glanced at the card and nodded in recognition.
“The friend who gave me this card,” said Mr. Prentice, “told me that you boys are detectives with a great interest in things which are … well, rather unusual.”
“That is true,” said Jupe. “The question marks on our card, symbolizing the unknown, might be taken as a statement of that interest. In the past, we have succeeded in solving some rather bizarre puzzles. But until you tell us what is troubling you, we won’t know if we can possibly help. We are prepared to try, of course. In fact, we have already begun preliminary work on your case. After we received your letter this morning, we investigated you!”
“What?” cried Prentice. “What impertinence!”
“If you are to be our client, don’t you think we should know something about you?”
demanded Jupe reasonably.
“I am a very private person,” said Prentice. “I don’t care to have anyone prying into my affairs.”
“No one can be totally private,” said Jupiter Jones, “and Bob is a first-rate researcher.
Bob, would you fell Mr. Prentice what you discovered?”
Bob grinned. He admired Jupe’s ability to get the upper hand in most situations. He took a small note pad out of his pocket and opened it. “You were born in Los Angeles, Mr. Prentice,” he said. “You are now in your seventies. Your father, Giles Prentice, made a fortune in real estate. You inherited that fortune. You are not married. You travel often and you give generously to museums and to individual artists. The newspapers refer to you as a patron of the arts.”
“I seldom bother with newspapers,” said Mr. Prentice.
“But they bother about you,” Jupe remarked. “You do seem to take a great interest in the arts,” he added, looking around the room.
The living room was actually a luxurious showcase for an art collection. Paintings hung on the walls, porcelain figures stood on low tables, and here and there were lamps which might have come from some Moorish palace.
“Very well,” said Prentice. “There isn’t anything wrong with taking an interest in beautiful things. But that has nothing to do with what’s going on here.”
“What is going on here?” asked Jupiter.
Prentice glanced over his shoulder, as if he feared someone might be listening in the next room. When he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. “I am being haunted,” he said.
The Three Investigators stared at him.
“You don’t believe me,” said Prentice. “I was afraid you wouldn’t, but it’s