The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (51 page)

“This is where Mrs. Weems resides, I believe?”

“Yes, but she isn’t here now.”

“When will she be home?”

“I can’t say,” replied Penny. “Are you an agent?”

The man’s appearance displeased her although she could not have said exactly why. His smile was too ingratiating, his eyes calculating and hard.

“My name is Bierkamp,” he explained. “I represent the Harold G. Bierkamp Investment Company.”

Penny stiffened. She glared at the agent. “You mean you represent the Al Gepper Spookus Company,” she said in a cutting voice. “Well, Mrs. Weems doesn’t want any of your wonderful eight per cent stocks! She’ll not see you, so don’t come here again!”

“And who are you to speak for her?” the man retorted.

“If you come here again, I’ll call the police,” Penny threatened. “Now get out!”

Without another word, the man retreated down the street. Penny watched until he turned a corner and was lost to view. She was a trifle worried as to what she had done.

“If Mrs. Weems learns about this she’ll never forgive me,” she thought uneasily. “But he was a crook sent by Al Gepper. I know it.”

Wandering upstairs, she entered the bathroom, intending to wash before going to Louise’s home. On the tiled floor lay a velvet ribbon with a key attached. At once, Penny realized that Mrs. Weems had left it there inadvertently.

“It’s the key to her desk,” she reflected, picking it up. “And she insists that her money is kept in a safe place! I have a notion to play a joke on her.”

The longer Penny considered the idea, the more it pleased her. Jubilantly, she set forth for the Sidell home. Taking Louise into her confidence, she visited a novelty shop and purchased a supply of fake money.

Returning home, she then unlocked the drawer of Mrs. Weems’ desk and, removing the six thousand dollars, replaced it with neat stacks of imitation bills. Louise watched her with misgiving.

“Penny, this joke of yours isn’t likely to strike Mrs. Weems as very funny,” she warned. “You’re always doing things which get you into trouble.”

“This is in a good cause, Lou. I am protecting Mrs. Weems from her own folly.”

“What will you do with the money?”

“Deposit it in a bank.”

“You are taking matters into your hands with a vengeance! Suppose you’re robbed on the way downtown?”

“That would complicate my life. Upon second thought, I’ll send for an armored truck.”

To Louise’s amazement, Penny actually carried through her plan. A heavily guarded express truck presently drew up before the Parker residence, and Mrs. Weems’ money was turned over to the two armed men who promised that it would be delivered safely to the First National Bank.

“There, that’s a load off my mind,” said Penny. “Just let Al Gepper try to steal Mrs. Weems’ money now!”

Louise shook her head sadly. “You may be accused of stealing yourself. I wouldn’t be in your slippers when Mrs. Weems learns about this.”

“Oh, I’ll be able to explain,” laughed Penny.

The joke she had played did not seem quite so funny an hour later. Mrs. Weems returned home and without comment recovered the key which had been replaced on the lavatory floor. She did not open her desk or mention the money.

At dinner Penny was so subdued that the housekeeper inquired if she were ill.

“Not yet,” the girl answered. “I’m just thinking about the future. It’s so depressing.”

“Perhaps a picture show would cheer us all,” proposed Mr. Parker.

Mrs. Weems displayed interest, and Penny, without enthusiasm, agreed to go. Eight o’clock found them at the Avalon, a neighborhood theatre. The show was not to Penny’s liking, although her father and the housekeeper seemed to enjoy it. She squirmed restlessly, and finally whispered to her father that she was returning home.

In truth, as Penny well knew, she was suffering from an acute case of “conscience.” Now that it was too late, she regretted having meddled with Mrs. Weems’ money.

Gloomily she walked home alone. As she entered, she heard the telephone ringing, but before she could answer, the party hung up. With a sigh Penny locked the front door again, switched out the lights and went to bed.

For a long while she lay staring at a patch of moonlight on the bedroom carpet. Although she felt tired she could not sleep.

“It’s just as Louise said,” she reflected. “I’m always getting myself into hot water and for no good reason, either!”

Her morose thoughts were interrupted as a hard object thudded against a nearby wall. Penny sat up, listening. She believed that the sound had come from Mrs. Weems’ room, yet she knew she was alone in the house.

Rolling from bed, she groped for a robe, and without turning on the lights, tiptoed down the hall. Mrs. Weems’ door stood open. Was some intruder hidden in that room?

Peering inside, Penny at first noticed nothing amiss. Then her gaze fastened on the window sill, plainly visible in the moonlight. Two iron hooks, evenly spaced, had been clamped over the ledge!

CHAPTER 16

OVER THE WINDOW LEDGE

As Penny flattened herself against the wall, the head and shoulders of a man slowly rose into view. Although his body was plainly silhouetted in the moonlight, she could not see his face.

The intruder raised the sash, making no sound. He hesitated, listening a moment, then dropped lightly into the bedroom.

Without turning on a flashlight which he carried, he went directly to Mrs. Weems’ desk. So deliberate was the action that Penny instantly decided the fellow had come for a particular purpose and knew the lay-out of the entire house.

“He means to steal Mrs. Weems’ money!” she thought.

Opening the desk, the man tried the drawer where the inheritance funds had been hidden. Failing to unlock it with a key, he took a tool from his pocket and in a moment had broken the lock.

Removing the stack of fake bills which Penny had substituted, he thrust them into his coat. Taking no interest in anything else in the room, he moved stealthily toward the window.

Penny knew there was no one within calling distance and that the man probably was armed. Wisdom dictated that she remain in hiding, but she was determined the thief should not escape. Hoping to take him by surprise, she stalked forward.

A board creaked. With a muttered exclamation the man whirled around. At the same instant Penny flung herself upon him, diving low in imitation of a football tackle.

The thief reeled, but instead of falling he recovered his balance and gave Penny a tremendous shove which sent her sprawling backwards. Before she could regain her feet, he ran to the window. Swinging himself over the ledge, he vanished from view.

By the time Penny reached the window there was no sign of the intruder. He had disappeared as if into thin air. However, she knew that the man must have descended by means of a ladder which he had hastily removed.

She ran her hand over the window ledge. The iron hooks no longer were there, only the scars which had been cut in the wood.

“This undoubtedly was the same fellow who broke into the Kohl apartment!” she thought. “But how did he escape so quickly?”

Penny started for a telephone, intending to notify the police. However, when it occurred to her that her father might not wish the matter made public, she changed her mind and ran downstairs.

Unlocking the rear door, she glanced carefully about the yard. There was no one in sight, no movement behind any of the shrubbery.

“He’s gone, of course,” she thought.

Penny wore no shoes. Finding a pair of old galoshes on the porch, she protected her feet with them, and hobbled into the yard.

The grass beneath Mrs. Weems’ window had been trampled, but at first glance there was no clue to indicate how the burglar had gained entrance to the house.

“Obviously he used a ladder,” she reasoned. “But how did he descend so quickly? And what became of the ladder? I know he never had time to carry away one of the ordinary type.”

A dark object lying on the grass attracted Penny’s attention. Picking it up, she carried it to the porch and switched on a light that she might see to better advantage. In her hand she held a torn strand of black silk rope.

“This may be an important clue!” she thought excitedly. “I know now how the man entered the house!”

As Penny examined the piece of rope, automobile headlight beams cut a path across the yard. The Parker car drew up on the driveway and both Mrs. Weems and Mr. Parker alighted.

“Dad, come here quickly!” Penny called as he started to open the garage doors.

“What’s wrong, Penny?”

Both the publisher and Mrs. Weems came toward the porch.

“We’ve had a burglar,” Penny announced. “He broke into Mrs. Weems’ room, smashing the lock on the desk—”

“My money!” the housekeeper exclaimed in horror. “Oh, Penny, don’t tell me that it’s gone!”

“He escaped with the contents of the drawer.”

Mrs. Weems gave a moan of anguish. “Haven’t you called the police?” she demanded. “When did it happen? Tell me everything!”

“First, I’ll set your mind at rest,” Penny replied. “Your money is safe.”

“Oh! I never was so relieved in all my born days.”Mrs. Weems sagged weakly into a porch rocker. “Penny, how could you torture me by letting me think the money was stolen?”

“Because I have a confession to make, Mrs. Weems. You left the key to your desk lying on the bathroom floor. I thought it might be a good joke to move the money to another place.”

“Oh, you darling blessed girl!” laughed Mrs. Weems. “Where did you hide it, Penny? Are you sure it’s safe?”

“It should be. I had it taken to the First National Bank and deposited in your name. The thief carried off a package of fake money.”

“Rather high-handed weren’t you?” commented her father.

“Now don’t you scold her,” spoke Mrs. Weems quickly. “I am glad Penny acted as she did. Otherwise, I might have lost my entire inheritance.”

Penny drew a deep breath. “I’m relieved you feel that way about it. I wish I could see the burglar’s face when he discovers he stole worthless money!”

Both the housekeeper and Mr. Parker pressed her with questions. She revealed exactly what had occurred during their absence, showing them the strand of black silk rope.

“Dad, I think this may be a valuable clue,” she declared. “What does it suggest to you?”

“Not much of anything, I am afraid.”

“You remember that when the Kohls were robbed the police couldn’t figure out how the burglar gained entrance?”

“Yes, I recall the story.”

“Well, I believe the same man committed both burglaries.”

“Why do you think so, Penny?”

“At the Kohl’s the police found two marks on the window ledge apparently made by iron hooks. Similar marks are on the sill in Mrs. Weems’ room. For that matter, I distinctly saw the iron pieces bite into the wood.”

“Let’s look at them,” proposed Mr. Parker.

“Only the marks are there now, Dad. The man jerked the hooks loose after he descended. They must have been attached to his ladder.”

“I thought you said he had none, Penny.”

“There was no time for him to have carried away an ordinary, heavy ladder. I think the one he used must have been made of silk.”

“And this is a piece of it!” Mr. Parker exclaimed, examining the twisted strand with new interest. “Your theory sounds plausible. It would be possible for a man to scale a wall with such a ladder.”

“He could jerk loose the hooks in an instant, too, Dad. The ladder would fit into a small suitcase, or even his pocket!”

“There’s one objection to your theory, Penny. How could such a ladder be raised to the window ledge? It naturally would be limp.”

“That part has me puzzled, I’ll admit.”

“I never even heard of a silken ladder,” said Mrs. Weems doubtfully.

“I once saw one being made,” declared Penny with deliberate emphasis. “At a Japanese Shop on Dorr Street.”

“That’s right, you spoke of it!” exclaimed her father. “Penny, you may have something!”

“I think so, Dad. This strand of twisted silk may lead straight to Kano’s Curio Shop.”

“And from there?”

Penny hesitated, glancing at Mrs. Weems. She knew that the housekeeper might take offense, but she answered quietly:

“My guess would be to Al Gepper, Dad. Who but he or an accomplice could have known where the money was hidden?”

CHAPTER 17

KANO’S CURIO SHOP

As Penny had anticipated, Mrs. Weems indignantly declared that she did not believe Mr. Gepper could have had any connection with the attempted robbery. Yet, even as she made the assertion, a startled expression came over her face.

“Think back, Mrs. Weems,” urged Mr. Parker. “How many persons knew where you had secreted the money?”

“I told Mrs. Hodges.”

“And Al Gepper?” Penny probed.