The Mystery of the Scar-faced Beggar - M. V. Carey [59]
“You’re being ridiculous!” cried Shelby. “I can’t leave tonight! I have important work to do here. My mission isn’t finished!”
“There is at least fifty thousand dollars in Mr. Bonestell’s house,” said Jupiter.
“You lie!” shouted Shelby. He turned suddenly on old Mrs. Denicola. “You old crone!” he shouted. “You dreamed about that, too, didn’t you? And you told that kid and …”
“Mrs. Denicola told me nothing,” said Jupiter. “However, I can tell your friend Ernesto where the money is. It’s in the freezer of Mr. Bonestell’s refrigerator, hidden in an ice-cream carton.”
Shelby took two quick steps across the room and slapped Jupe hard.
Ernie shook his head. “That was very foolish, my friend,” he said. “Now you must come, and we won’t talk any more about it, eh?”
Shelby’s hand went to his coat. A second later there was a gleam of dark steel, and Shelby’s gun was in his hand.
“So it’s like that, eh?” said Ernie.
Luis had been watching quietly, unnoticed and forgotten. He moved now. So quickly that Shelby could not react, Luis stepped behind him. His hands went to Shelby’s neck. Shelby cried out once, dropped his gun, and crumpled to the floor.
Ernie stepped forward, picked up the gun, and pointed it at Shelby.
Shelby groaned and sat up, and Luis yanked him to his feet. A moment later the men were gone. They were out and down the hill, and the rain was drumming on the roof and Eileen Denicola was struggling with her bonds.
“I stalled them as long as I could,” said Jupe. “I hope Mr. Bonestell got away in time, that he’ll get the police and they’ll be nabbed before they can leave the pier.”
“I think it will not be that way,” said old Mrs. Denicola. “I think there is something that has yet to happen before the police can come — before we can leave this room.”
“What?” said Eileen. Then she caught her breath. There was a new sound — a sound that came not from the storm, but from the earth itself. It was a groaning sound. Somewhere close by a window shattered.
“Holy Saint Patrick!” gasped Eileen Denicola.
“My dream!” whispered the old lady. “The danger! The room that twists around the boy and me!” She closed her eyes and began to pray rapidly in Italian.
Timbers groaned again, and more glass smashed. But it wasn’t an earthquake, as Bob had thought. Inch by inch the sodden, rain-soaked hillside was sliding out from under the motel!
Chapte
t r 20
A Fiery End
THE ROOM
O
LURCH
C ED!
La
L mps
p
s sm
s ash
s e
h d to
o the
h fl
f o
l or
o , and the
h re were sh
s o
h w
o ers
s of
f sp
s a
p rks
s as
s the wir
i in
i g be
b gan
to
o tear
r apa
p rt
r .
“Don
o ’t le
l t
t it
i bu
b rn!” pr
p ayed Ei
E l
i een Den
e ic
i o
c l
o a
l .
. “De
D a
e r
a
r he
h a
e v
a e
v n
e ,
n
, pl
p e
l a
e s
a e
s
e do
d n
o ’t let it
burn!”
Mor
o e sp
s a
p rks
s fl
f e
l w,
, bl
b u
l e-whi
h t
i e and dyin
i g as
s the
h y fe
f ll
l .
l
. The
h n the
h re was
s darkness
s — a
darkness
s
s fi
f l
i l
l e
l d wit
i h
h the
h sh
s r
h ie
i kin
i g of
o
f tim
i be
b rs
s and the
h sc
s re
r ech
h of
o
f nail
i s
s be
b in
i g pu
p lle
l d ou
o t
of
o
f woo
o d
o .
The
h re was
s anot
o he
h r lu
l rch,
and ol
o d
l Mrs.
s
. Denic
i ol
o a
l crie
i d
out.
“Help
l !
p ” yell
l e
l d Pete.
. “Hey,
,
so
s m
o ebo
b d
o y!
! Help
l !
p ”
No
o on
o e sh
s o
h u
o ted ba
b c
a k.
k
. No
he
h lp
l
p came.
“Thi
h s
i
s
whol
o e
l hi
h l
i ls
l i
s d
i e is
i
goi
o n
i g to
o go
o any min
i ute!” sa
s id
i
Ei
E l
i e
l en Deni
n c
i ol
o a
l .
She
h ha
h d no
n
o so
s on
o er sp
s o
p k
o en
tha
h n the
h mot
o el
l sl
s i
l d
i anot
o he
h r
r
cou
o pl
p e
l of
o
f metres,
s
, si
s c
i kenin
i gly
l ,
,
se
s ndin
i g cha
h ir
i s
s tumbl
b i
l n
i g in
i the
h
dark.
. Pete
e c
rash
s e
h d in
i t
n o
t
o the
h be
b d
d an
a d Ju
J pe
p ’s
s ch