The Secret of the Haunted Mirror - M. V. Carey [23]
Mrs. Darnley shook her head. “Poor Isabella Manolos,” she said. “If the person who wrote that letter is really the president of Ruffino, she may be in some difficulty. I think we should find out what it is before we stir up trouble and publicity.”
“What do you mean, Grandma?” asked Jean.
“We really should call the police and report everything that has happened,” said Mrs. Darnley. “However, perhaps that might be the worst thing we could possibly do.” She looked at Jupiter, then at Bob and Pete. “I hired you to investigate my haunted looking glass,” she continued. “I hired you because Worthington has spoken well of you and also because I think young people sometimes are smarter than older ones. They don’t have all those years of experience, so they don’t have built-in expectations. They know that anything can happen.”
“Quite so,” put in Worthington.
“I understand, Mrs. Darnley,” said Jupiter Jones. “I am sure we all know now that the haunted mirror is not haunted, but it must hold a secret. Shall we try to ascertain exactly what that secret is?”
Pete groaned. “It’s late,” he protested. “Also, I’m bushed, but … okay. Let’s try.
There must be something hidden somewhere, somehow.”
Jeff went to the kitchen for a stepladder and tools. With mighty grunts and groans the four boys and Worthington managed to get the huge glass off the wall. Jupiter unscrewed the wooden backing from the steel frame. There was nothing underneath it. He went over every inch of the frame. There was nothing — nothing but the monstrous figures of those weird underworld creatures and the grotesque goblin at the top playing with the snake. There were no apertures in which anything could be hidden. There was only a huge, very ugly frame, an old mirror, and a wooden backing, which had been repaired several times. A number of smudged labels on the wood gave the names of craftsmen in Madrid and Ruffino who had worked on the glass.
Jupiter sat back on his heels and looked at the dismantled mirror. “And what in that could interest the president of a republic?”
Chapter 10
The Magician’s Cloak
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING Bob Andrews left Rocky Beach with his father.
He was bound for Los Angeles, where he planned to go through back issues of the Los Angeles Times and look for stories about the Republic of Ruffino, and also about Drakestar the magician and his house in the Hollywood Hills.
Jupe and Pete took a ride into Hollywood with Konrad, who had to deliver an old dining-room table to a customer of The Jones Salvage Yard.
“Santora’s still in the hospital,” announced Jupe, as Konrad drove up the freeway.
“I called hospitals in Beverly Hills last night until I located him. He’s at the Beverly Crest Medical Centre. Last night they weren’t giving out any information and he wasn’t taking calls. This morning I phoned again and they offered to put me through to his room, so he can’t be badly hurt.”
“I’m glad,” said Pete, “I don’t know whether he’s a good guy or a bad guy, but I don’t have to wonder about the man who hit him. I know he’s a stinker.”
“Juan Gómez,” said Jupe. “The dangerous man named Juan Gómez. I went through the telephone directory this morning and found several people named Gómez in the Silverlake area. However, if Gómez is staying with a cousin there, we have no assurance that the cousin is also named Gómez or that he has a telephone. But let’s not worry about him today.”
“What are we going to do today?” asked Pete.
Jupe took a notebook out of his pocket. “I showed the piece of cloth that I tore from the phantom’s robe to Aunt Mathilda,” he said. “She agrees that it isn’t an ordinary fabric. We’ll call at the costume shops in Hollywood. Our ghost had to get that garment he wore somewhere, and what would be a more logical place than a costume shop?”
Pete scowled at Jupe’s notebook. “I see you’ve made a list,” he said. “How many costume shops are there?”
“Quite a few,” admitted Jupe.
“My aching feet!” moaned Pete.
“Good detective work requires persistence,” said Jupiter Jones sternly.