The Secret of the Haunted Mirror - M. V. Carey [31]
“He called me from a filling station near there at ten past four, so he’d have been southbound on Hamilton at about four. Do you want to get in touch with him?”
“Not necessarily,” said Jupiter Jones. “Thank you very much.”
The boys ran from the office, tumbled down from the loading platform, and yanked open the cab door.
“Quick!” said Jupiter to the driver, and gave him the directions. “It’s an emergency!”
“Whatever you say,” answered the driver with a shrug. He did his best to hurry, threading his way through the downtown traffic and then out along the Hollywood Freeway to the San Fernando Valley. Luckily for the Investigators, traffic was moving steadily. In thirty minutes, the cab was proceeding north on Hamilton.
“Now drive very slowly,” ordered Jupe, and he and Pete carefully surveyed each side of the street. At first it was lined with small homes, and then there were only vacant lots. Estate agents’ signs could be seen here and there announcing that the land was for sale. They saw the railway crossing ahead. It was guarded by an automatic signal, now silent. The driver slowed at the crossing and glanced up and down the tracks. Jupe saw that on the far side of the tracks there was a single house a dingy, weather-stained bungalow which might once have been part of a citrus fruit farm. A few lemon trees, looking forlorn and neglected, still stood at the back of the place.
The house itself was decayed, with rusted screens torn from the windows in several places, and several boards missing from the front porch.
“Well?” said the cabbie.
“Keep driving,” ordered Jupiter.
They went on past more open lots and more real estate signs. After another block they again saw small homes, neatly kept lawns, and children playing on the pavements in the late afternoon sun.
“Turn right at the next corner,” Jupiter instructed.
The cabbie complied. He parked at the kerb in front of a house where a man was watering the lawn.
“Well!” said the cabbie again. “Where to now?”
“Let me think,” said Jupiter. It must be that old house near the railway tracks. The other places aren’t near enough to that warning signal. I heard it very clearly when Jeff made his telephone call.”
“Yes,” agreed Pete. “It’s the only place. And what a spot to hide someone. Even if he yelled nobody would hear it.”
The driver cleared his throat. “Did we come way out here to look at a run-down old farmhouse?”
“How do we get in there?” said Jupe.
“Why do you want to?” asked the driver. “You can tell nobody lives there, but if you …”
“Somebody is in there,” said Jupe, “and we have to get in without being seen. I think I know how.”
He had spotted a small bakery van coming down the street. It stopped about fifty yards from them, and its horn sounded a series of cheery notes. The driver climbed out with a basket of bread and other baked things when a young woman came out of one of the houses. She selected several packages from the basket and handed the bakery man some money.
“That’s it!” cried Jupe. “We’ll deliver some bread!”
“Great!” cried Pete. He jumped out of the cab and ran towards the bakery van, waving his arms.
“You kids are nuts,” said the cabbie as Jupe started after Pete. “You want me to wait? You already have fifteen dollars on the meter and … ”
Jupe handed him another ten dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he said, “and if you see us get aboard that bread van, don’t wait. We won’t need you.”
“Suits me,” said the cabbie.
Jupe came up to the bread man, a thin, sunburned young fellow who might have been in his late teens or early twenties. “But I’m not allowed to pick up riders,” he was saying.
“We don’t want a ride, exactly,” said Pete. “We want to make a delivery at a house near here.”
The cab pulled up near the bread van and the driver leaned out. “Everything okay?” asked the cabbie.
“No, it’s not okay,” said the young bread man. “This is my first job. I don’t want to goof it.”
“I know,” said Jupe earnestly. “We won’t make any trouble, honestly.