The Stone Idol (14 page)

Seven new candles were burning brightly on the altar, and the stone figure stood in front of the center candle!

A feeling of awe came over Frank and Joe as they gazed at the features they had seen before in the photograph. The circular eyes glinted at them in the flickering light, and the fierce scowl seemed to threaten them. The long ears reached to a level with the chin and looked more sinister now than in the office of South American Antiquities back in Santiago.

“You know something,” Frank said, staring at the idol. “I don't think he likes us.”

“I don't think he likes anybody,” Frank muttered. “Let's get out of here before he puts the whammy on us.”

They went back through the tunnel to the mouth of the cave and mounted the ladder to the top of the cliff. The crowd was growing bigger as more people arrived to view the stone idol. Frank and Joe climbed back into the jeep, and their driver started the return trip to Hanga Roa.

“So you see, the guardian of the sacred cave has come back to us,” Iko Hiva declared.

“Who put it on the altar?” Joe inquired.

“The
aku-aku,”
the wizard replied solemnly.

An
aku-aku
named Julio Santana, Frank thought.

“You will not try to take it away?” the old man went on.

“No,” Joe assured him. “Not unless we can prove it was sold legitimately. But in order to do that, we'll have to find the Scandinavian collector who sold it to South American Antiquities. He didn't want his identity revealed, but at this point he has no choice.”

The wizard smiled. “That is good. Now you do not have to fear the
aku-aku.”

Frank spoke up. “What if someone steals the idol again? The
aku-aku
couldn't prevent it before and might not be able to do it now.”

Iko Hiva smiled. “Someone will always guard the cave in the future,” he declared.

When they arrived at the hotel, the boys said good-bye to the wizard and his companion, then went inside. In their room, they discussed the latest developments.

“Santana must have put the idol back last night,” Frank noted. “He was probably in the sacred cave while we were having our go-round with Morena at Orongo. The bird man stuff was a setup to get us out of the way. I bet it was either Santana or Morena on the phone who disguised his voice and tricked us into going to Orongo.”

“Then perhaps Santana's not a thief, Frank! We thought he stole the idol after we found it because he wanted to sell it. Maybe he only wanted to bring it back where it belonged!”

“You're right,” Frank said. “Someone else could have stolen it from Kimberley's bag in the hotel room, and hidden it in the secret compartment.”

“And who took it from the sacred cave in the first place?”

Frank sighed. “For a minute, I thought we'd solved the puzzle, but now we have more questions than ever.”

“Bertrand's still a suspect,” Joe declared firmly. “He had the opportunity to take the idol in the hotel room. And he had a motive if he was trying to incriminate Kimberley and grab control of the business. ”

A knock on the door interrupted the discussion. Joe opened it up and gasped.

Julio
Santana
stood on the threshold!

“May I come in?” he asked pleasantly.

“Sure,” Joe offered. “We were just talking about you.”

“I can understand that,” Santana admitted as he sat down. “Much has happened since we met in Santiago. ”

“Like you and Morena trying to knock us off the bridge into the gorge,” Frank suggested.

“And fixing our brakes so we'd crack up in the Andes,” Joe added. “Then you disguised your voice on the phone last night and sent your bird man to ambush us at Orongo.”

“You're right,” Santana admitted. “But I can explain everything. First of all, I did not tell Morena to attack you. I merely wanted him to frighten you away from Easter Island.”

“Why?” Frank demanded.

“I thought you were here to steal the stone idol again. But Iko Hiva just told me you agree it must remain in the sacred cave. So I have come to apologize for mistrusting you. But you must understand that I felt you had stolen the idol when I saw you with it at South American Antiquities. I assumed you and Bertrand were going to sell it illegally. So I seized it and ran. I had to do everything in my power to protect it.”

“Even if it meant killing us?” Joe challenged.

“When we followed you into the Andes, you decided to finish us off,” Frank added.

“Remember, I thought you were thieves. Anyone who takes a sacred idol is not worthy of living. But the
aku-aku
knew better and protected you. So, you were never in real danger!”

“Why were you selling sculptures at the stand in your village square?” Frank inquired.

“I had watched you all the time,” Santana revealed. “I saw you disguise yourselves at Ata Copac's house and set out for my village. I knew a shortcut and rushed home before you arrived. Then I asked Pedro to let me take over the stall.”

“But what made you think we'd stop there?”

Santana smiled. “Anyone looking for a stone figurine would be interested in similar items. I intended to trap you by making you appear as thieves. The villagers have stern punishment for people like that. But you escaped and I went back to Santiago until Pedro could fly me here. He used to be in the Chilean air force and has his pilot's license.”

“Why couldn't he take you right then?” Frank asked.

“He was in the process of buying the
Inca
Chief, which he will use for charters. I had to wait until the transfer was completed.”

“What were you doing in Punta Arenas?” Joe inquired.

“Pedro had a fare to drop off first. Then we stopped along the coast before we came to Easter Island.”

“How did you know the stone idol had been taken from the sacred cave?”

“Iko Hiva wrote and told me while I was working in the oil fields at Punta Arenas.”

So Iko Hiva didn't communicate only in spirit as he said, Joe thought. He's a wizard who pushes a pen. I guess he didn't want us to know about it until he figured out what we were up to.

“You see,” Santana went on, “I grew up here, knowing the stone idol as the guardian of the sacred cave. Only the sacrilegious would touch it. When I heard it was gone, I resolved to get it back at any cost. Since South American Antiquities handles more Easter Island artifacts than anybody else, I went to their office and applied for a job.”

“And, fortunately, Bertrand needed a chauffeur,” Joe said.

Santana nodded. “I took care of the company cars while trying to find the idol. You got it before I did. That is when I went into action.”

“You didn't know it was in the possession of South American Antiquities before that moment?”

“No. I still don't know how they obtained it.”

“Supposedly it was sold to Mr. Kimberley by a Scandinavian collector,” Joe said.

Santana shrugged. “It's possible. But what I don't understand is why you pursued me. I thought you were doing research on the ancient Incas.”

“That was our cover story,” Frank told him. “We're really detectives. Mr. Kimberley hired us to find the idol, which had disappeared from his handbag. ”

“Now I understand,” Santana said. “When I saw you at Punta Arenas airport, I thought Mr. Bertrand had sent you after me.”

“So you had Morena fly you to Motunui instead of Easter Island,” Joe surmised.

“Yes. I did not want you to intercept me and seize the idol before I could place it back where it belonged. But since you told Iko Hiva you will not take it away again, I decided to tell you the truth.”

The Easter Islander took out a handkerchief and dabbed at a cut on the right side of his chin.

“That's a bad cut,” Joe observed.

“I got it in a good cause. One of the knife blades protecting the sacred cave nicked me as I reached through the circle to replace the idol on the altar.”

He put his handkerchief in his pocket and looked at the Hardys questioningly. “What do you intend to do now?” he asked.

Frank and Joe looked at one another. They realized they were thinking the same thing.

“We understand why you gave us such a rough time,” Frank spoke up. “We're not about to press charges against you. Or against Morena, either. It was just a foul-up in communications when he conked us at Orongo.”

“But you'll have to tell the governor what you told us,” Joe pointed out.

“I have no objection to that,” Santana stated. “We can go at once.”

The three walked over to the governor's residence. Admitted to his office, they found that he already knew from Iko Hiva about the return of the stone idol. Santana then explained that he had put the sculpture back on the altar during the night. He continued with an account of his part in the case. The Hardys added that they were not pressing charges.

“Then that ends it as far as I'm concerned,” the governor said. “What are your plans now?”

“I shall stay on Easter Island,” Santana replied. “But I hope you will allow Pedro Morena to fly his plane out again. He picked up a charter fare at Punta Arenas. The man wants to go to Santiago.”

“Oh, he's the passenger we noticed sitting behind Morena,” Frank said. “Why did he come to Easter Island with you if he wanted to go to Santiago?”

Santana shrugged. “He seemed to be afraid of someone. When Pedro told him he had to stop here first, he agreed to come along for the ride just to get out of Punta Arenas. He is an American, by the way.”

Suddenly Frank had a hunch. “Julio, what's his name?”

“Sigmund Muller.”

Frank and Joe stared at the man. “Muller!” Frank cried out. “He's wanted by the U. S. military for heading a widespread theft ring!”

Now it was Santana's turn to stare. “You mean this man is a criminal?”

“He sure is,” Joe declared and quickly told about their mission in the Antarctic.

“Where is Muller now?” the governor demanded after Joe had finished.

“He is waiting for us to pick him up at the Beach Hotel,” Santana replied.

“I shall have him arrested at once and brought here,” the governor declared.

An hour later, two men with police badges on their shirts brought Sigmund Muller into the governor's office. His eyes bulged when he saw the Hardys and he tried to run, but the two men caught him at the door.

“What a surprise, meeting you here,” Joe said. “I thought you were supposed to be in San Diego!”

Muller glared but did not comment.

“I bet you'd feel better if we had fallen into that crevasse on the way to Outpost I,” Frank said. “Your pal, Al Ambrose, made another attempt on our lives, but failed. He was arrested and confessed everything!”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Muller said sullenly.

“Your theft ring is exposed and we know you're the leader,” Joe told him. “No confession is necessary for your arrest.”

Muller shrugged. “You'll have to prove it.”

“Don't worry, we will. And I'm sure Admiral Langton will be happy that we found you.”

“Governor, is there some way you can hold this man for the U. S. military?” Frank asked. “If you get in touch with Admiral Langton at Byrd Base in Antarctica, he'll arrange for the transfer.”

“I certainly can,” the governor replied. “We have a jail on the island, even though it is very small.”

“Mr. Muller, I'm curious about one thing,” Joe said. “Why did you stay in Punta Arenas a whole day, and then take a charter plane to Easter Island?”

Muller realized he was defeated. “I was looking for a friend, who I thought could help me,” he replied. “Unfortunately, I didn't find him. When I spotted U. S. military police at the airport, I panicked. I didn't dare book on a commercial airliner, so I found Morena and decided to go with him no matter where he went.”

“How'd you ever expect to get back to the United States?” Frank asked.

“I have contacts in Santiago who might have helped. ”

The governor called Byrd Base and spoke to the admiral, who promised to notify Mr. Hardy that Muller had been found. “I'll submit the necessary extradition papers for Muller and have him picked up,” the commander added.

As Muller was led away, the governor turned to the boys. “We would be very happy to entertain you for a while on our island if you'd care to stay,” he said.

Frank shook his head. “We still have work to do on the idol case. May I call Mr. Bertrand in Santiago?”

“Of course.”

When the young detective spoke to the antique dealer, Bertrand was disturbed to learn that the idol had not been legitimately acquired from Easter Island.

“You'll have to find the Scandinavian collector who sold it to Kim,” he told Frank. “I never spoke to the man. I suggest you fly back to New York and talk to my partner.”

“If we could figure out who sent Mr. Kimberley that secret message about the sculpture's hiding place, it would help, too,” Frank said.

“I questioned my staff, and they deny knowing anything about it,” Bertrand said. “If you locate the collector, you might get the answer to this question.”

The boys were on the next flight out of Easter Island. They spent the night in Santiago, then continued on to New York.

“I still wonder if Bertrand's on the level,” Frank observed.