The Mystery of the Scar-faced Beggar - M. V. Carey [7]
Pete and Bob followed him back to the building, and when they were inside he introduced them to Mr. Sebastian. Sebastian ushered them into the big windowed room and motioned them to the folding chairs that were placed around a low, glass-topped table. It was the sort of table that is usually outdoors on a terrace or beside a pool. The table, the chairs, and a telephone were the only furnishings in the room.
“Eventually we’ll have all sorts of luxury here,” said Sebastian. “Don and I moved in only last week, and we haven’t had time to do much.”
“You’re going to live here?” said Pete.
“I am living here,” answered Sebastian. He limped to the lobby and bellowed for Don. Presently the Vietnamese appeared with a tray on which there was a glass coffee server and a cup and saucer.
“Something for the boys,” ordered Sebastian. “Do we have any soft drinks in the refrigerator?”
“Lemonade,” said Don as he set down the tray. “Nature’s Own, for tree-ripe flavour.”
Jupe smiled, recognizing the advertising slogan of one of the popular brands of lemonade. No doubt this was a bit of wisdom that Don had learned from his television watching.
“Lemonade okay?” said Mr. Sebastian. He looked to the boys, who quickly nodded. Don went back to the kitchen, which was located in the far corner of the house, beyond the coffee shop.
“I wish Don would watch some cooking programmes, instead of all those old movies with commercials stuck in every five minutes,” said Mr. Sebastian after the Vietnamese left. “Some of the meals that we have are unbelievable.”
Mr. Sebastian then went on to talk about the old restaurant that he had just moved into, and the plans that he had for making it over into a home. “Eventually the coffee shop will be a formal dining room,” he told the boys. “There’s a storeroom next to the lobby that can become Don’s bedroom, and I’ll have a bathroom put in for him over there, under the stairs.”
The boys looked towards the staircase that went up along the inner wall near the lobby. At the top of the stairs was a gallery that ran the length of the building, overlooking the huge room where Sebastian sat with the boys. The big room had a vaulted ceiling that was two stories high. The other half of the building — the front half occupied by the lobby, storeroom, coffee shop and kitchen — had rooms on the second floor, with doors opening on to the gallery.
“I know this place is a wreck,” said Mr. Sebastian. “But it’s structurally sound. I had an architect and a building contractor look at it before I bought it. And do you know what it would cost me to buy a house this size so close to the ocean?
“A fortune, I’m sure,” said Jupe.
Sebastian nodded. “And think what a beautiful place this will be once it’s fixed up.
This is a great room just the way it is — a fireplace at each end and all these windows facing the ocean! And the roof doesn’t leak. That’s the sort of thing you may take for granted, but I lived for twenty-three years in a Brooklyn apartment where the roof leaked regularly. I had to keep a collection of buckets and pans to set under the drips when it rained.”
Mr. Sebastian grinned. “Who was it who said that he’d been rich and he’d been poor, and rich was better? Whoever it was, he knew what he was talking about.”
Don came in then with the lemonade. As he served the boys, Sebastian picked up the handsome wallet that Jupe had put on the glass-topped table.
“Dropped by a blind beggar, eh?” said Mr. Sebastian. He looked into the wallet.
“He couldn’t have been a beggar in great need. He didn’t spend any of the money.”
“But he was begging,” said Bob. “He had a tin cup with coins in it. He kept shaking the cup.”
Mr. Sebastian looked thoughtful. “I wonder how he found the wallet?” he said. “If he was blind …”
“Exactly,” said Jupiter. “Blind people don’t see things that are lying on the pavement. Of course he might have stumbled on it and picked it up. Where did you have it last, Mr. Sebastian?”
“You sound very professional,” Sebastian told Jupe. “I almost expect you to whip out a pencil