The Secret of the Haunted Mirror - M. V. Carey [9]
Pete wandered in. He had on a freshly laundered shirt and his hair was wet. “Hi!”
he said, when he saw Jeff. “You’re a long way from home.”
“How’s the surf?” Jupiter asked him.
“Too good.” Pete pulled up a wooden crate and sat on it. “Those swells are really high. I got wiped out three times, so I figured I didn’t need a broken neck.”
Jeff laughed. “Worthington said once you don’t like trouble. ‘Master Pete prefers to avoid unnecessary vexation,’ is the way he put it.”
Pete laughed. “Vexation isn’t exactly what happens when you hang around with Jupiter Jones. The things Jupe can think of are downright scary.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary to take risks to solve a mystery,” said Jupiter.
It was true. In a far corner of The Jones Salvage Yard was an old, damaged mobile home trailer. It was all but forgotten by Uncle Titus and Aunt Mathilda, and heaps of junk sheltered it from curious eyes. Inside that battered trailer was Headquarters, where The Three Investigators had their office, their files and telephone, a compact but complete laboratory, and a photographic darkroom. When Jupiter, Pete, and Bob had first started their detective firm, there had not been much need for file cabinets, but now there were several filled with Bob’s careful notes on their cases. They showed that the team of young sleuths had a record which men many years their senior might envy. And they showed that there had been risks — many risks. Jupe was not one to hesitate at taking chances.
“I have a feeling,” said Jupiter to Jeff, “that you came here to tell us something important.”
“I’m not sure,” said Jeff Parkinson. “You heard Santora’s story about the old magician going through the looking-glass to the land of the goblins?”
“Fantastic,” said Jupe. “But what about it? You said you hadn’t heard any more from Santora. I presume he has not yet presented any documents to your grandmother to prove his claim that he is descendant of Chiavo’s.”
“No, he hasn’t. If he can prove it, he’ll get the mirror. My grandmother wants to do what’s right, but she doesn’t want to be a sucker. She won’t give up the mirror just because Santora can spin a wild yarn. Now, last week you met John.”
“John Chan? Your grandmother’s houseman? What about him?”
“He’s really a very calm guy,” said Jeff. “He’s been with Grandma several years and I’ve never seen him get upset about anything. He just minds his business and does the cooking, and when he’s not busy he practises the guitar. He’s a Harvard drop-out.
His father wanted him to be a lawyer, but he just wants to play classical guitar.”
“So?” said Pete.
So John, who never gets upset, is now hearing things — and … and maybe I am too.”
Jupe and Pete waited.
“I heard a sound last night like, well, like somebody laughing. I got up and went downstairs. The door was locked tight, the way it was when we went to bed. I turned on the lights in the living-room and everything looked okay. I started to go back to bed and I got this impression, the way you do when you see something out of the corner of your eye. I thought somebody went into the library, or maybe that something had moved inside the library. So I went in there and turned on light and there wasn’t anything. But when I went back to the hall, there was John in his bathrobe and he was carrying a carving knife.
I … thought maybe he’d flipped or something. I mean he had this funny look on his face and there was that knife. I was scared!”
“And then?” prompted Jupe.
“Then I said something dumb, like, ‘Hi,’ He said, ‘Oh! It’s only you.’ We were standing there in the hall, staring at each other, when we both heard the laughing sound. It came from the library where that mirror is. John was in there like a shot and there still wasn’t anybody there. No one. Nothing. Four walls and a lot of books and the mirror.”
Pete rubbed his jaw. “You mean, you think maybe the mirror is haunted?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I know I don’t believe the house is haunted, even if some people say it is. It may be kind of creepy, but nothing strange has ever happened to Grandma