The Secret of the Haunted Mirror - M. V. Carey [29]
“The ice cream man,” said Pete. He stopped his wandering from mirror to mirror and stood on the hearth. “The Meadow Fresh Ice Cream people have vans that drive around and play chimes. They play ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’ ”
Jupe sat down next to the desk. “It could be a clue,” he said. “It could tell us where Jeff is being held. I think we can take it for granted that he’s not in San Pedro, or at least that he’s not in that deserted warehouse. The kidnapper wouldn’t risk holding him there. It was almost exactly four o’clock when Jeff made that telephone call. At about four, a Meadow Fresh Ice Cream van passed the place where Jeff is a prisoner, and then there was something else.” Jupe closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to remember every detail of the telephone call. “A clanging,” he said. “After the ice cream van passed, there was another ringing noise. But it was loud — like a burglar alarm. And then there was a kind of vibration.”
“You’ve got the most astonishing memory,” exclaimed Mrs. Darnley. “All I heard was Jeff talking.”
“Total recall,” Pete told her. “Jupe’s famous for it. He never forgets anything.”
“An ice cream van,” said Jupe, “and a clanging sound and then a vibration. A railway crossing! That’s what happens at a railway crossing! There’s a warning signal, flashing lights, and a bell that rings to alert drivers that a train is coming. Then the rumble would be the train going by. Wherever Jeff is, an ice cream van went by there at four, and it’s very near a railway crossing where a train went by a second or two later.”
“There must be dozens of those ice cream vans in Los Angeles,” said Jean.
“But there aren’t dozens of railway crossings,” said Jupe, “and those vans have regular routes. The ice cream man comes to Rocky Beach at about three every afternoon. He’s never more than twenty minutes off. If we can get to the Meadow Fresh people …”
“But what if it wasn’t a train?” said Mrs. Darnley. “It could be a place where a burglar alarm went off — they do go off sometimes, you know — and then a van went by.”
“No,” said Jupiter Jones. “A van would take only a second to pass any given spot.
This rumbling sound continued for some time. It has to be a train. With any luck at all, we could get to Jeff before the glass is delivered to the kidnapper.”
“You can try,” said Mrs. Darnley, “but I refuse to let you take chances with my grandson’s life. Please, call your uncle and have him come with the truck.”
“Of course.” Jupiter picked up the telephone, dialled the number of The Jones Salvage Yard, and heard his Aunt Mathilda answer at the other end.
“Jupiter Jones, where are you?” said Aunt Mathilda. “What have you been doing?
You’ve been gone all day and Konrad said …”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Mathilda,” said Jupiter quickly. “I can’t explain now. I’ll tell you about it later. Is Uncle Titus there?”
Aunt Mathilda said nothing for a moment, and Jupe could picture her frowning and irritated, but then she called Uncle Titus to the telephone.
“I’m with Mrs. Darnley,” Jupe told his uncle. “She’s in great trouble and she needs help. Could you bring one of the trucks here right away? And bring Hans and Konrad with you. That big looking-glass in Mrs. Darnley’s library has to be delivered to a warehouse in San Pedro before seven o’clock tonight, and it’s heavy. You’ll need help.”
“Jupiter, are you on one of your cases?” asked Uncle Titus.
“Yes, and I don’t have-time …”
“It’s all right,” said Uncle Titus quickly. “I’ll come.”
Jupe grinned, thanked his uncle, and hung up. “You can be sure the glass will be delivered,” he told Mrs. Darnley.
Pete had taken a Los Angeles telephone directory from the bottom shelf of a bookcase. “The Meadow Fresh main office is on Macy Street,” he said, “down near the Union Depot. That area’s got more railway tracks than anything this side of Chicago. Could Jeff be down there some place?”
Jupe shook his head. “Unlikely. The Meadow Fresh people keep their vans on the streets until quite late in the