The Secret of the Haunted Mirror - M. V. Carey [25]
“He might recognize me and that might not be a good idea,” said Jupe. “Let’s pretend we’re doing a survey for … well, for our social studies class. We can talk to the landlady about how many people live in the house and what they do for a living.”
“Fine,” said Pete, “but you do it. You’re better at that stuff than I am.”
“Yes, I am” said Jupe. He took out his notebook, marched up the walk and rang the doorbell.
A few moments later the door opened and a little, grey-haired woman looked out.
“Yes?” she said.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” said Jupiter Jones. “We’re doing a survey for a class at our school.”
“But it’s summer,” said the woman. Her eyes suddenly narrowed with suspicion.
“School’s out.”
Jupiter looked mournful. “Not for us, I’m afraid. We didn’t pass the final exam in June and, well, we can make up the grade if we complete our project.”
“It means an awful lot to us,” said Pete.
“Well, all right.” The door opened wider. “You look like nice boys. What do you want to know?”
“First,” said Jupe, “how many people live here?”
“Six,” she said. “Five boarders and myself.”
Jupiter wrote this down.
“Are your tenants permanent residents?” asked Jupe. “Do they stay a long time or do they move often?”
“Oh, they stay!” The woman looked quite proud. “I make my guests comfortable, so they stay. Why, Mr. Henley has been here for five years.”
“I see that you have a vacancy now.” Jupe pointed towards the sign.
“Yes. Mr. Baldini moved out last night. Very sudden. Odd. But then people who’ve been in the theatre can be odd, don’t you think?”
“He’d been with you for a long time?”
“Four years,” said the woman. “Funny, moving without any notice. He didn’t even leave a change of address for the postman.”
“That is strange,” said Jupiter, “but then, as you say, people in the theatre can be odd. Was he an actor?”
“Magician,” said the woman. “That is, he used to be a magician. He doesn’t get many bookings these days, so he sells newspapers. He has the stand on the corner of Santa Monica and Fountain.”
“I see.” Jupiter put the cap on his pen and closed his notebook. “Thank you very much. We only have to get four more interviews and we’ll have the project finished.
You’ve been very kind.”
“Not at all,” said the woman.
She closed the door and the boys hurried back to Santa Monica, where they boarded a bus.
“We have to make sure,” said Jupe, “but I think, when we get to that news-stand at Fountain, Baldini will not be there.”
Jupiter was right. The stand at the corner of Santa Monica and Fountain was shuttered and padlocked. Piles of papers bound with wire lay around on the pavement.
“He didn’t even get in touch with his distributors,” said Jupe. “Baldini, our phantom, has vanished!”
Chapter 11
Disaster Strikes!
IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON when Jupiter Jones and Pete Crenshaw got off the bus in Rocky Beach.
“Let’s not run into Aunt Mathilda,” said Jupe. “She’s not expecting us back so soon and if she sees us she’s sure to put us to work. I want to call Bob and see what he’s been able to find out at the Times.”
“Red Gate Rover?” said Pete.
“Red Gate Rover,” said Jupe.
The two circled round to the rear of The Jones Salvage Yard, where artists of Rocky Beach had decorated the junkyard fence with an exciting picture of the great San Francisco fire of 1906. At one place in the picture a little dog sat watching the flames. The dog’s eye was a knothole. Jupe reached through this, undid a latch on the inside of the fence, then pushed on the boards. Three of them swung up. This was Red Gate Rover. Jupe and Pete stepped through the opening to the inside of the salvage yard and made their way along a narrow, hidden passageway between walls of heaped-up junk to Headquarters.
There was no need to call Bob Andrews from the telephone in Headquarters. The slender, bespectacled boy was already in the office. He had magazines and books spread out on the desk and was busy taking notes.
Bob looked up when Jupe and Pete came into the mobile home trailer through