The Castle on Deadman's Island (7 page)

They heard the
putt, putt, putt
of an engine, then a long narrow double-ended launch, like the ones used by fishing guides, appeared.

In the front, in comfortable wicker chairs one behind the other, sat an older couple. In the center,
beside the small inboard engine, a guide steered; behind him sat a teenage boy, and in the stern was a curly-haired girl.

Neil stared.
Crescent!

Crescent waved. The guide shut off the engine, and the launch drifted to a halt in the middle of the cove. The small dinghy it was towing sat rocking in the swell. As Neil and Graham watched, Crescent hauled in the dinghy, climbed into it, and fitted the oars in their slots.

The boy said something to her and she nodded, holding on to the side of the launch while he stepped awkwardly in beside her, rocking the little dinghy so violently that he almost lost his balance. When it settled down, Crescent rowed to shore.

Meantime the older couple in the bow picked up their fishing rods, the guide baited their hooks with minnows from a bucket, and they dropped their lines into the water.

Neil and Graham waited at the water's edge. “Good to see you, Crescent,” Neil said, when the dinghy reached shore. “I was getting worried.”

“Sorry I'm late, guys,” Crescent replied. “I'll explain later. This is Daniel. Daniel, meet my friends, Neil and Graham.”

Daniel, who was clutching the gunwales as if his life depended on it, said hi and let go with one hand just long enough to give them a quick wave.

“Climb in,” Crescent said.

There was barely room in the little dinghy for the four of them and the gunwales were now mere inches above the water. Daniel looked apprehensive.

“Daniel's from New York,” Crescent said, as if that explained everything.

“New York!”
Graham exclaimed. “Must be neat to see the Empire State Building. A marvel of engineering – they say the top sways only one and a half inches in a 110 mile-an-hour wind.”

New York! Neil thought. He'd never met anyone from New York before, the ultimate big city in his mind. It seemed so far removed from Kingsport that
it might as well have been on another planet. Not only did it have the world's tallest skyscraper, but also Broadway Radio City Music Hall and the Rockettes, the Yankees with Joe DiMaggio, and all those movies that open with shots of Manhattan traffic and horn-honking yellow cabs. New York.

Now here was a New Yorker in person. Neil wanted to ask him if there really was a billboard on Broadway that blew smoke rings, but he didn't want to seem like a rube. Who was this guy? he wondered. And why had Crescent come in a launch with him instead of in
Discovery?
Was he after her too?

“The only boats I've ever been in before are those pedal things in Central Park,” Daniel said, still clutching the sides tightly. “But they don't rock around like this. My grandparents come up here every year-they're nuts about fishing. Why, I don't know. Sit in a boat all day and dangle a minnow overboard, hoping some fish will come along that's dumb enough to grab it. They're always after me to come with them, so this year I did. I really like them and all, but jeez, fishing!”

Neil could see that Daniel liked talking – a lot more than he liked fishing.

“Hey” Daniel said. “I hear you guys are terrific gumshoes.”

Neil wasn't sure whether this was a compliment or an insult.

“You know – detectives, private eyes,” Daniel added. “Like in Raymond Chandler's books.”

The dinghy pulled up to the launch. They climbed aboard, and Crescent introduced Neil and Graham to Mr. and Mrs. Lonsberg and to Charlie, the guide. Now it was Charlie's boat that was crowded. Neil and Graham sat on the floorboards in the stern with Crescent.

“All set?” Charlie said, poised to start the engine.

“Wait a moment, Charlie!” Mrs. Lonsberg said. “I've got a bite.” She jerked on her line and began reeling it in, the rod bending and dipping as the fish fought back gamely. It leaped once, flashing silver and dark green in the sun, then shook the hook loose and was gone. The line hung limp.

“Rats!” Mrs. Lonsberg said. “A nice big bass, too.”

“Never mind, dear,” her husband said. “Charlie knows where to find lots more.”

“We'll just mosey on over to the campground on Lovesick Island,” Charlie said. “Then you folks can relax while I fry up some of this fresh catch for lunch.” He held up a long string of perch and bass that had been dangling over the side.

They landed at the public dock on the island beside Deadman's. Charlie set up chairs for the Lonsbergs, got a fire going, then began cleaning fish at the water's edge.

“You kids, feel free to explore,” Mrs. Lonsberg said. “Come back when you smell fish frying.”

“Sure, Gran,” Daniel said, and off they went.

Neil and Graham were bursting with curiosity. “So what's happening, Crescent?” Neil said, as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Yeah, we expected to see
Discovery
sail around the point,” Graham said. “Why are you in Charlie's boat with the Lonsbergs? Are you keen on fishing?”

Or keen on Daniel? Neil wondered.

Crescent sighed. “Poor
Discovery.
She was stolen last night. The police think it was the German prisoners of war.”

“German POWs!” Neil exclaimed. “From the fort?”

Crescent nodded. “Two of them. They escaped yesterday. The police think they'll try to cross to the United States. They probably took the sailboat because a motorboat would have been too noisy. I kept thinking of you guys waiting for me and I didn't know what to do. Then the Lonsbergs – they're in the cottage next door – came to my rescue. Came to your rescue, I should say.”

“That was magnanimous of them,” Graham said. “They must be wondering what we were doing on Deadman's Island.”

“They were kind of curious,” Daniel said. “I figured maybe you were just horsing around – you know, summer holidays, nothing to do and all that – but then Crescent told us about the castle and your aunt that you're worried about.”

He must have caught Graham's look of concern because he held up his hand. “Hey, don't worry,” Daniel said. “I won't tell anyone, neither will my grandparents. I think it's nifty what you're doing. Sneaking around a spooky castle at night looking for clues – sure beats fishing for excitement.”

“I hope it was worth it,” Crescent said. “What did you find out, Graham?”

“Not much, I'm afraid,” Graham said. “We scoured the whole place, top to bottom. There's a gazillion rooms.”

“He did find his aunt's favorite hat,” Neil added, “which is odd because he says she never goes anywhere without it. Yet there's no sign of her. We found what we think is her suitcase too – in the attic.”

“I guess you guys searched the underground passage too,
huh
?” Daniel said casually.

Graham's head jerked up.

“What underground passage?” Graham said. “We looked all over for a cellar and couldn't even find that.”

“Oh, well, maybe Gramps is confused,” Daniel said. “I mean, sometimes his memory's not so hot. But he said there was an underground passage from the castle to the river.”

“But what would your grandfather know about the castle? He lives in New York.”

“Yeah, weird, isn't it? The guy who built the castle way back? Gramps was a friend of his – they went to Princeton together. The guy was loaded – something
to do with railways and all. Back then, when they were rich, they were real rich.”

Daniel gestured across the water to where the castle loomed. “He had to be real rich to build that. Anyway, Gramps says his friend was always talking about this castle he was building in the Thousand Islands. He showed Gramps the plans one day and told him there'd even be a hidden passageway to the river. Maybe he thought he'd have to escape from the law in a hurry one day. I mean, they didn't called them robber barons for nothing.”

“It's an enigma,” Graham said, puzzled. “If your grandfather is right, there's an underground passage. But we couldn't find a cellar, so how do you get to this passage? From the river end?”

“Charlie and Mr. Lonsberg were talking about the castle on the way over,” Crescent put in. “Charlie said that back during Prohibition, the island was a drop-off point for smuggled whiskey. There was a rumor that the Canadian smugglers had found an underground tunnel that led to the castle from the river. They would take their boat right into a cave at the back of the island and unload the whiskey into this tunnel-the castle was empty then – and the Americans would pick it up there.”

“Shades of Al Capone,” Daniel said.

“Maybe we could find the cave,” Graham said, “and follow the passage from there back to the castle.”

Crescent shook her head. “Unfortunately not. Charlie said the water level in the river has risen since then and the entrance to the cave would be under water now.”

“So we have to find the entrance from the castle end,” Graham said. He turned to Neil. “You know what this means?”

Neil nodded. “Another night in the castle.”

“Neat. Can I come too?” Daniel said.

Graham and Neil looked at each other. “You really want to?” Graham asked, stalling.

“Sure. We can wait here until dark and then row over in Gramps' dinghy.”

“That's his dinghy? I thought it was Charlie's.”

“No, it's his. But he'll let me use it.”

“But are your grandparents okay with us sneaking into the castle?”

“Heck, it belongs to your aunt, doesn't it?”

“One third of it does.”

“I'll just tell them I want to stay with you guys at the campsite. Which is the honest truth. Part of it, anyway.”

“I'd better go back with your grandparents,” Crescent said. “I'm hoping for news about
Discovery,
and I'm just praying those POWs didn't crack her up on the rocks.”

Again Neil'd miss going with Crescent. Would he ever get to be alone with her? he wondered.

Beside him, Daniel sniffed the air.
“Umm.
Charlie's fish fry must be ready. And to think I used to throw up at the thought of eating fish. Let's go. That fresh bass is so good, I'll be having it for breakfast next thing you know.”

After the others had left, Neil, Graham, and Daniel kept out of sight on Lovesick Island until they saw the Ruffs' boat go by – Mrs. Ruff erect in the bow like a figurehead, Leonard hunched over the motor.

When the Ruffs' boat disappeared in the direction of the shore, they climbed into the dinghy. Neil manned the oars, Daniel clutched the sides, and Graham, in the bow, watched for the submerged boulder that Charlie, the guide, had warned them about. He didn't see it until it was too late, but as it turned out, the dinghy had such a shallow draft that they didn't even scrape the top of the boulder.

They rowed around Deadman's Island to the cove at the back, where they landed and pulled the dinghy up on the shore, covering it with branches for camouflage. Then they set out for the empty castle.

The three boys scrambled through the bushes to the castle. “So where do we look for this hidden passage?” Graham said.

“Somewhere at the back, I'd guess,” Daniel said. “So the owner could beat it while the FBI is coming in the front.”

“We should look around outside while it's still light,” Neil suggested.

“But what do we look for?” Graham said. “A trapdoor of some sort, I suppose.”

“Or a sign saying
HIDDEN PASSAGE, ENTER HERE
?”
Daniel said, with a grin. “
OR WATCH FOR FALLING SKELETONS
.
Uh-oh,
sorry, Graham. Dumb thing to say. I forgot it's your aunt we're looking for.”

Graham shrugged. “That's okay. I don't really know what I expect to find. Just
something.
Right now, it's all a muddle.”

They split up the territory and began to scour the grounds foot by foot, searching for an entrance. The manicured grassy areas were easy. But then they had to go farther out in the scrub, under the towering pines.

“You guys look like you've been wrestling with wildcats,” Graham said later, when he and Neil and Daniel had gathered back at the castle. They were scratched, bitten, and sweating, their clothes torn and decorated with burrs.

“I never saw so many thistles,” Neil said. “Prickly raspberry bushes too.”

“What are those little plants with the shiny leaves?” Daniel asked. “There's this huge patch of them where I was.”

“The leaves weren't ternate, were they, Daniel?” Graham said.

“No, they were green.”

“I mean, how many on a stem?”

“Uh …
three, I think.”

“Uh-oh,
sounds like you were in a patch of poison ivy. You should wash up. You don't want to break out in a rash tomorrow.”

Daniel looked startled. “Jeez, we don't have stuff like that in Central Park.”

They stood pondering their next move and swatting at the hordes of mosquitoes that had descended on them as the sun began to set. “I guess the only thing to do now,” Neil said, “is search the castle one more time.” He set to work again on the lock, and soon they were back in Mrs. Ruff's kitchen.

Graham went straight to the fridge, “Hey, she's made an apple pie. Sure looks good. Do we dare?”

“Maybe she'll blame it on the escaped POWs,” Daniel said. “Let's take a chance. Apple pie is good for poison ivy, isn't it?” He was at the sink, diligently washing his arms and legs as Graham had suggested.

They helped themselves to pie. Then, refreshed, they tackled the ground floor once more, looking for a hidden entrance.