The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (144 page)

“HAVE CHANGED PLANS. WILL RETURN THE TWENTY-SEVENTH BY PLANE. PLEASE HAVE EVERYTHING IN READINESS.”

The telegram was signed by the owner of the estate, G. A. Deming.

“Today is the twenty-seventh of the month,” thought Penny. “This message must have been several hours delayed.”

The telegram had provided little information. Evidently the woman who had refused to tell her name was Mrs. Lennie Botts. Regretting that she had opened the message, Penny tossed it carelessly on the table.

Footsteps sounded on the floor directly above. Penny had taken no pains to be quiet. Nevertheless, her pulse quickened as she heard someone pad to the head of the stairway. A muffled voice called: “Who’s there?”

Penny’s heart leaped for she was sure she recognized the tones. Fairly trembling with excitement, she darted to the foot of the circular staircase. On the top landing in the heavy shadows stood a man whose face she could not see.

“Dad!” she cried. “I’m Penny.”

“Penny?” the man demanded impatiently as if the name meant nothing to him. “Where is Mrs. Botts?”

“Why, she went away.”

“And how did you get into the house?”

“Through a cellar window.”

“I thought so! Young lady, I don’t know what you’re doing here in Mrs. Bott’s absence. Unless you leave at once I’ll summon the police.”

Penny was not to be discouraged so easily. She started slowly up the stairway.

“Stand where you are!” the man ordered sharply. “I’ve been sick, but I’m still a match for any house-breaker. I have a revolver—”

So dark was the stairway that Penny could not know whether or not the man was bluffing. His voice, startlingly similar to her father’s, sounded grim and determined. Knowing that a stranger would have good reason to treat her as a burglar, she was afraid to venture further.

“Dad—” she began.

“Don’t keep calling me Dad!” he snapped.

“Who are you?” asked Penny, completely baffled.

“Who am I?” the man repeated. “Why, I’m Lester Jones, a salesman. I room here.”

The answer dumbfounded Penny. “Then you’re not being held a prisoner by Mrs. Botts?” she faltered.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Botts has been very kind to me. Especially since I’ve been sick.”

Penny’s perplexity increased. “But I’ve seen you wandering in the garden at night,” she murmured. “Why do you do it?”

“Because—oh, hang it! Do I have to explain everything to you? My head’s aching again. Unless you go away and stop bothering me, I’ll call the police.”

Penny was completely crushed. She had been so sure that the man was her father! Seemingly she had made a very stupid mistake.

“I’ll go,” she said quietly.

Retreating down the stairway, she left the opened telegram on the living-room table and switched off the light. Then unlocking the kitchen door, she rejoined Louise and Joe.

“I guess you didn’t have any luck,” her chum commented, observing her downcast face.

Penny ruefully admitted that the man who had been seen in the garden was Lester Jones.

“I knew he wasn’t your father,” Louise replied. “You wouldn’t listen to reason—”

“All the same, his voice was similar,” Penny cut in. “Why, the man even used one of Dad’s pet expressions.”

“What was it?” Louise inquired curiously.

“‘Oh, hang it!’ That’s the expression Dad uses when he’s irritated.”

Louise helped her chum over the back fence and guided her toward the parked taxi. Midway there Penny paused to stare up at the dark windows of the second floor.

“Lou!” she exclaimed. “That man must have been Dad even if he didn’t know me!”

“Oh, Penny, don’t start that all over again,” Louise pleaded. “You’re only torturing yourself.”

“I’m going back!”

“No, we can’t let you, Penny.”

Louise held her chum’s arm firmly. Joe opened the door of the taxi and they pushed her in. Penny protested for a moment, then submitted.

“All right, but we’re going straight to the police station!” she announced. “I’ll not be satisfied until that man positively is identified as Lester Jones.”

A few minutes later, at the police station, Detective Fuller heard the entire story. It was the first he had learned about Mrs. Botts, for Penny’s earlier message had not been delivered by Policeman Burns.

“For that matter, I’ve not seen Burns today,” the detective explained. “I’ll go to the estate at once and question the woman.”

Again Penny and Louise taxied to the estate, this time trailed by a police car. Detective Fuller broke the padlock on the gate and led the party to the front door.

A light now burned in the living room. To Penny’s astonishment, the door was opened by Mrs. Botts.

“Good evening,” she greeted the visitors pleasantly.

Detective Fuller flashed his badge. “We want to ask you a few questions,” he said. “May we come in?”

With obvious reluctance the woman stepped aside, allowing the party to enter the living room. Penny’s gaze roved to the center table. The telegram which she had opened no longer was there.

Mrs. Botts did not offer chairs to the callers. Glaring at Penny with undisguised dislike, she said coldly: “I suppose I am indebted to you for this visit. What is it you want?”

“I understand you have a roomer here,” began Detective Fuller.

“A roomer?” Mrs. Botts echoed blankly.

“Yes, a man by the name of Lester Jones.”

“Ridiculous! You don’t seem to realize that this is the Deming estate.”

“Are you an employee here?”

“I am the housekeeper. During Mr. Deming’s absence I look after the property. I assure you no one but myself lives in the house at present.”

“No roomer ever has stayed here?”

Mrs. Botts drew herself up proudly. “Would Mr. Deming be likely to annoy himself with roomers? He has a very substantial fortune.”

“You might try to pick up a few dollars yourself.”

“Mr. Deming would not hear of such a thing! He pays me well.”

Detective Fuller asked additional questions, trying to learn whether or not the woman was the one who had fled from the cemetery. Mrs. Botts frankly admitted that she had taken Mr. Parker to the hospital, but she denied ever trying to collect a ransom.

“What you say now doesn’t agree with your original story,” Penny protested. “You admitted to me—”

“I admitted nothing,” Mrs. Botts broke in indignantly. “I have no secrets to hide!”

“But I’m sure Mr. Jones is living in this house,”Penny said stubbornly. “He’s upstairs.”

“Indeed?” mocked Mrs. Botts. “Perhaps you’d like to search the house.”

“Yes, we would,” said Detective Fuller.

Mrs. Botts remained undisturbed. Bestowing upon Penny a look of deep contempt, she motioned toward the stairway.

“Very well, search the house,” she invited with cool assurance. “I’ve told you the truth. You’ll find no one here but myself.”

CHAPTER 19

A BAFFLING SEARCH

In systematic, unhurried fashion, Detective Fuller went through every room in the Deming house. The bed chambers, nine in number, were in perfect order. Only Mrs. Botts’ suite over the kitchen appeared to have been used recently.

As the search progressed, Penny’s bewilderment increased. She knew that Lester Jones had been in the house an hour earlier, yet there was no sign of him. Personally she inspected clothes closets and bureau drawers. Not an article could she find that ever had belonged to her father. She did come upon a white woolen bathrobe. Believing it to be the garment worn by the “ghost” she called it to Detective Fuller’s attention.

“Oh, that robe belongs to my employer, Mr. Deming,” explained Mrs. Botts.

Penny indicated water stains along the hem which suggested that the garment had been allowed to trail in the snow.

“Sometimes I wear the robe when I go outside to bring in the washing,” replied Mrs. Botts. “It is warmer than my coat.”

Try as she would, Penny could not trip the woman into making any damaging admissions. Mrs. Botts had changed her original story and would not acknowledge that she had fled from the cemetery. Stubbornly, she maintained that she had told everything she knew about Mr. Parker’s disappearance.

“I took him to Mercy Hospital in my employer’s car,” she repeated to Detective Fuller. “That’s the last I saw of him.”

“In what condition was Mr. Parker when you left him?” questioned the detective.

“He seemed all right. Perhaps he was a bit dazed.”

“Why didn’t you report to the police?”

“Because I didn’t see the newspapers for a day,”Mrs. Botts replied sullenly. “Later I read Miss Parker’s offer of a reward.”

“Then you did write, requesting me to run the ad in the
Star
!” Penny cried triumphantly.

“No, of course not,” Mrs. Botts retorted, “I merely read the item.”

Penny knew Mrs. Botts was not telling the entire truth, but to prove it seemed an impossible matter. Neither could she establish that a man who claimed to be Lester Jones had been living in the house. True, Louise and the taxi driver would support her story, but it would only be their word against Mrs. Botts’. The situation had become hopelessly confusing.

Detective Fuller was not entirely satisfied with the housekeeper’s story. “Guess we’ll have to take you along to the station for questioning,” he concluded.

Only then did Mrs. Botts lose her composure.

“No, don’t take me away!” she pleaded anxiously. “My employer is coming home tonight. I just received the telegram. If I’m not here when he arrives, I may lose my job!”

Actually Detective Fuller had little evidence against Mrs. Botts and doubted that he could hold her many hours in jail. Far more might be gained by allowing the woman her freedom and keeping watch of the house.

“We’ll let you stay here,” he decided after a moment’s thought. “However, you’ll be wanted for questioning a little later. Make no attempt to leave the premises.”

“I won’t try to go away,” Mrs. Botts promised. “I want to cooperate with the police. All I ask is that my employer, Mr. Deming, doesn’t hear of this. I’m innocent and it’s not right for me to lose a good job.”

Very shortly the party bade the woman goodbye and left the estate. Detective Fuller assigned a policeman to keep watch of the property and then returned to Riverview. Louise and Penny, completely bewildered, left with their driver, Joe, debated their next action.

“Where to?” the cabman inquired. “Home?”

“I suppose so,” sighed Penny. “I never was in such a muddle in all my life. What became of that man I thought was Dad?”

“He must have left the house while we were at the police station,” Louise declared. “It was a surprise finding Mrs. Botts there too! She must have returned in a hurry after we went away.”

“Mrs. Botts got rid of Lester Jones somehow,”Penny said with conviction. “Oh, she’s a slick one!”

As Joe shifted gears, the girls observed a dark figure approaching the estate from down the road.

“Wait!” Penny instructed the cabman. “Let’s see who it is.”

A moment later the figure emerged from the shadow cast by a giant tree. Penny was surprised to recognize Mose Johnson. The old colored man carried a basket on his arm and evidently had been doing a little late marketing at the crossroads store.

“Good evening, Mose,” Penny greeted him as he approached the cab.

“Evenin’, Miss Penny,” he beamed, pausing. “I’se suah astonished to see yo’ all out dis way. Has yo’been lookin’ for dat ghost?”

“I’m afraid I have,” Penny admitted ruefully. “I’ve certainly had no luck.”

Mose shifted the market basket to his other hand. “Dat ole ghost ain’t been around so much lately,” he explained. “I comes by dis spot half an hour ago on my way to de sto’ to get some victuals. Dere wasn’t no ghost around den either. If dere had a been I’d have seen him, you kin be suah o’ dat. I was mighty skittish and ready to make mahself absent in about two shakes.”

“And you didn’t see a thing?” inquired Penny.

“Well now, I can’t rightly say dat,” Old Mose corrected. “I didn’t see no ghost but I did see a taxicab.”

“Ours, I suppose.”

“Not dis one, Miss. De cab I see was a yelleh one.”

The information interested Penny. “Which way was it going, Mose?” she asked quickly.

“It wasn’t goin’, Miss Penny. It was standin’ right at de gate. Den I sees two dark lookin’ white men git out and go into de big house.”

“You did?” Penny demanded eagerly. “Then what happened? Did the cab drive away?”

“It waited ’till de two men came back, ’cept when dey comes back dere is three of ’em!”

“Three men?” Penny cried, her excitement mounting. “What did the third man look like, Mose? Think hard! It’s very important.”

“Well,” said Mose, “he was tall and he had something in his hand. A funny lookin’ little satchel. I guess you calls it a quick-case.”