The Mystery of the Singing Serpent - M. V. Carey [23]
In addition to the books on magic that Bob had spotted on the table, the boys saw shelves loaded with accounts of the rituals of primitive peoples, learned tomes on folklore and several works on black magic as it is practiced in modern cities.
“That guy must feel right at home with Aunt Pat Osborne and Hugo Ariel,” said Pete.
“If he’s read all these books, he’s got my respect,” said Bob. “I got into some of them today, and they can be tough going.”
“An authority on the occult,” said Jupe. “One wouldn’t expect to find an authority on the occult acting as a houseman.”
Jupiter bent over the work table and began to read the tags on the files that were piled there. There was a file called “Mara’s Clients,” and one marked “The Green Triangle.”
There was also a file — a thick one — tagged “The Fellowship of the Lower Circle.”
“Now I wonder if that could be our fellowship.” Jupe opened the file. “Oh, yes!” he said.
“What is it?” asked Bob.
Jupe picked up two sheets of paper. “Here is a set of notes on Miss Patricia Osborne.
Bentley finds her interesting. For instance, he indicates on this sheet that she has belonged to more than five unusual sects in the past ten years, that she subscribes to two astrology magazines, and that she once traveled to India to study under a philosopher there. The Indian trip didn’t last long. Miss Osborne did not find the plumbing adequate. There is also a note here that Miss Osborne moved to the house in Rocky Beach in May, and that Hugo Ariel arrived not long ago.”
“Anything else?” asked Pete.
Jupiter pulled out another sheet of paper. “Here’s a report from a credit bureau,” he said. “It lists Miss Osborne’s assets, which are adequate. She would not be considered wealthy.”
“Bentley is interested in money?” asked Pete.
Jupiter turned over other papers in the file. “It seems so. There’s a similar report on Noxworth, the man who owns a delicatessen. He also owns property in East Los Angeles.
He’s worth a lot more than his appearance indicates.”
“The lady in orange?” asked Pete.
“Madelyn Enderby, the hairdresser?” Jupe thumbed through the file. “She has belonged to a number of odd associations. She owns her own business and her income runs to five figures a year. She has an active account with a stockbroker in the San Fernando Valley.”
“Anyone else we know?” asked Bob.
“The lady with the health food shop,” said Jupe. “Health food must be quite lucrative.
She has applied for a loan to open a second shop in another location. And there are a number of reports here on people we don’t know.”
“Magic and witchcraft.” Bob touched the books on the table. “And also money.”
“Perhaps they all go together,” said Jupe.
Pete slid open a drawer in the table. It was empty except for a few paper clips and a miniature tape recorder. There was a tape on the take-up spool of the recorder. “I wouldn’t mind having that,” said Pete. “You could carry it in your pocket.”
Bob picked up the instrument. “Nice,” he said. “Runs on batteries. No wires to plug in.” He pressed a button on one end of the recorder, and a little compartment opened.
Inside was a tiny microphone. “Perfect,” said Bob. “A little recorder that can be hidden anywhere, with a sensitive microphone. The Secret Service probably doesn’t have anything better.”
“I wonder what’s on that tape,” said Jupiter. “How does the rewind mechanism work?”
Bob fumbled with the recorder for a second and watched the tape rewind. Then he reversed the switch. The recorder gave out a few preliminary cracks and rustles, and then The Three Investigators heard someone say, “We can begin.”
“That’s Ariel’s voice!” exclaimed Bob.
“We are not the full fellowship tonight,” the voice continued on the recorder. “It may be that we can do nothing. Or it may be that Dr. Shaitan will send us his spirits. The voice of the serpent may speak to us across the miles.”
“He bugged Allie’s house!” said Pete.
“Must have hidden this near the dining-room door,” deduced Bob.
The boys heard the hoarse voice of Madelyn Enderby and the grumbling complaint