Mystery of the Melting Snowman (5 page)

Alex Baxter glanced at the boys. He and the members of the Spotlight Club were alone on the greenhouse porch. He shut the door.

Dexter looked at Alex Baxter, then at Cindy and the closed door. “What’s going on?” he asked, pushing his glasses up.

“This is Alex Baxter,” said Cindy quickly. “This is Dexter Tate, and this is my brother, Jay Temple.” Alex Baxter shook their hands.

“Alex Baxter is a detective,” said Cindy.

The boys stared. Jay’s eyebrows went up.

Alex Baxter reached into his wallet and withdrew a card. He handed it to Dexter. Jay and Cindy looked over Dexter’s shoulder as he read out loud:

ALEX BAXTER

DETECTIVE INVESTIGATOR

CBI, LTD.

CHICAGO BRANCH

There was a Chicago address and telephone number under that.

Dexter whistled. “Gee, we didn’t know you were a detective!”

“Of course you didn’t,” said Alex Baxter. “Naturally I couldn’t tell anyone. And I never would have told you, even now, if it hadn’t been for this young lady. She had started to suspect me—and no wonder. A series of happenings, an unfortunate series of events, forced me into the open, as it were. But only with you,” he said earnestly. “If these crook suspect that I am a detective, they will run away before we have a chance to arrest them. And we must arrest them.”

Cindy’s head was spinning. “These crooks? What crooks?”

Alex Baxter glanced through the window set in the porch door. “Come over here,” he whispered. “No one must see that we are talking together.” He led the way to a far corner.

“I have to confide in you. I can’t have you calling Tom Foster’s attention to me. Then he would know they’d been found. They would disappear again.”

Cindy started to ask a question. It was all confusing. Alex Baxter stopped her. “Don’t talk. There isn’t time. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. But now we must move quickly. We must find it before Jenny Mayflower returns.”

Find it? Find what? wondered Cindy. He must mean the iron dog. They’d have to tell him they had it. And what about Jenny Mayflower?

“Let me explain,” Alex Baxter continued. “Jenny Mayflower and Tom Foster are a very clever pair of crooks. Very clever indeed. We’ve been on to them for a long time. They are what we call in the trade ‘con artists.’ That means they play a confidence game.”

“What’s that—a confidence game?” asked Dexter.

“They appear to be a nice, simple, honest, likeable couple. They get people to have confidence in them. That way they are able to trick people into believing anything. Anything and everything!”

“Believing what?” asked Jay.

“Like this,” explained Alex Baxter quickly. “Jenny Mayflower has been Mrs. Melanie Wellington’s secretary and companion for several months.

She’s gained her confidence and love. Now she’s ready to rob Mrs. Wellington of her possessions, her very home! And Tom Foster works with her. This isn’t the first time they’ve tricked an old, mixed-up lady.” His voice broke. He seemed to be very angry.

“Jenny—” thought Cindy aloud. “No wonder Mrs. Wellington trusted her. Who wouldn’t?”

“I don’t get it,” said Jay. “What did she steal anyway?”

Cindy thought quickly. What did she steal, after all? Was all this fuss about an iron dog? And what did he mean about stealing Mrs. Wellington’s house?

Alex Baxter seemed not to hear Jay’s question. “Let me continue,” he said. “We haven’t much time. I can fill you in later on all the details.” He rubbed his chin. “This couple has pulled the same trick many times before, but we have never been able to prove anything. We have never been able to make an arrest, an arrest that will stick. Now we are very close, but we need this final proof. Otherwise they will slip through our fingers one more time.” He looked at each of the Spotlighters in turn. “You must help me, you must.”

“How can we help you?” asked Jay.

Cindy’s heart pounded. Jenny and Tom crooks? It just couldn’t be true.

Alex Baxter glanced at Cindy. “Jenny Mayflower has told you that she is to marry this Tom Foster.”

“In three days,” whispered Cindy.

Alex Baxter shook his head. “That’s one more of their lies,” he said. “Actually we believe them to be brother and sister.”

“I don’t understand,” Cindy said, weakly.

“This is how they work,” Alex Baxter said, leaning forward. “Jenny Mayflower takes a job with a nice rich old lady, like Mrs. Wellington. A nice rich lady with a big house. She gains the old lady’s confidence. Next she introduces Tom. They get the old lady to move into an old people’s home. For her own good, they say. They talk her into letting them handle selling her house and everything in it. The old lady never suspects a thing.”

The Spotlight Clubbers stared.

“You know what happens next? It’s happening right here! Jenny Mayflower and Tom Foster—those are just names they are using this time—have sold this house. Now they’re selling everything in it. For cash. They have the money from the house and from the sale and they disappear. They move fast. Nobody has any time to ask questions. The sale of the household goods is just announced the day before it begins. They’re clever! We’ve got to catch them before it is too late.”

“So Jenny and Tom will leave today?” asked Dexter. Alex Baxter nodded. “Exactly. You’ll see. No one from Kenoska will ever hear from them again. They will move to another town, use other names. They will find another old lady. Unless we stop them. Unless we stop them—you and I.”

Cindy’s thoughts were racing. “But that’s not true, what you said about Jenny and Tom. It can’t be! It just can’t!”

Alex Baxter shrugged his shoulders. “Young lady, this is going to be very hard for you. Perhaps you should not try to be a detective. It is a very sad, very difficult business. To accuse someone you like…” He turned to Jay. “It is difficult for your sister. I am so sorry.”

Cindy squared her shoulders. “Jenny told me she was going to spend the whole day at her new apartment. She has to wait there for the furniture to be moved in. And then Tom is going to meet her there. And then they’re going to drive to the airport to meet Tom’s parents.” Cindy looked down at the floor. “She was so excited.”

Alex Baxter stared at her. “Do you still believe that?” he asked gently.

Cindy nodded. Then she shook her head miserably. “I don’t know what I believe.”

“Everyone trusts Jenny,” Alex Baxter said with a smile. “Everyone. You are not alone.”

Cindy looked at Alex Baxter. He understood how she felt. He didn’t seem to want anything for himself.

Jay nudged her. “See? Just because you like people doesn’t mean they can’t be bad guys. If you’re a detective you have to suspect people you like as much as you suspect people you don’t like.”

Alex Baxter flashed his narrow teeth at Jay. “I can see you’re a fine detective already, young man.”

Jay flushed.

“And now,” Alex Baxter said, lowering his voice and looking over their heads, “I see Tom Foster looking in our direction for the second time. It won’t do to arouse his suspicions. Agreed?” He looked at the three detectives. They nodded slowly.

Dropping his voice still more, he said, “We must leave. All of us. We cannot have Tom Foster link us together. You three leave first. Go to one of your homes. Which shall it be?”

The Spotlighters looked at each other. What else could they do but obey? Cindy thought of the iron dog under her bed. They should go there. “Our house,” she said. “It’s the white one with the big porch.”

She glanced at Jay and Dexter. All three were thinking one thing. She should tell Alex Baxter about the iron dog. But Cindy held back. She had to talk with Jay and Dexter first. Anyway Alex Baxter was giving directions.

“All three of you must watch this house very closely. You must make sure that Tom does not leave without your seeing him.”

“He’s not leaving until three thirty,” said Cindy. “That’s what he and Jenny said, anyway.”

Alex Baxter turned to her. His eyes narrowed until they became slits. “Young lady, I have told you once, twice, three times. You cannot trust either of them.”

He patted his pockets and frowned. “I’ll need your telephone number. And both of your addresses.” He patted another pocket. “Ah, here we are.” He drew out a small black notebook and flipped the pages with his long fingers.

He’s got a notebook too, thought Cindy.

“And now—your telephone numbers, your addresses.”

Alex Baxter touched his pencil to his teeth. He wrote down everything.

“What shall we do when we see Tom leave the house?” asked Jay. “How can we follow him if he has a car?”

“It will not be necessary to follow him,” Alex Baxter said. “One of the other detectives assigned to this case is out on the street now, waiting in a car parked behind Tom’s car. The way I waited behind Jenny Mayflower’s car. As soon as Tom leaves, my partner will follow. And Tom will lead us to Jenny. They both will be behind bars tonight!” He smiled at them.

Cindy’s heart was pounding. Jenny and Tom in jail! She could hardly believe it.

Dexter pushed his glasses up on his nose. “But why should we watch if someone is waiting behind Tom’s car?”

Alex Baxter smiled a patient smile. “Because he may not take his car. He may go on foot. Now my telephone number is on my card. I want you to telephone that number the moment you see Tom leaving.”

“It’s a Chicago number,” said Dexter. “And it will take you an hour to drive to Chicago.”

“I have an answering service,” Alex Baxter said quickly. “Just leave your message. I call in every half hour and get any messages left for me. I keep track of other detectives on the case too. I will call you about developments and instructions.”

Cindy tried to think. Should they tell him they had the iron dog? It must be an important piece of evidence.

“You were looking for something when you came in,” said Cindy. “You thought it was in that package. But it was just an old vase.”

“You are a very observant young lady,” smiled Alex Baxter. “Indeed I was looking for something.

“Something very, very important to this case. I was looking for a doorstop—a doorstop in the shape of a dog. Without it, we cannot prove our case against Jenny Mayflower and Tom Foster.”

Cindy’s head was spinning. “Why can’t you prove your case? Why is a doorstop important?” she asked.

They would have to tell him! They would have to. Still she held back. Now wasn’t the time.

Alex Baxter strode to the glass door and looked out. “We must move quickly,” he said. “Tom Foster has looked in this direction again.”

“What if Jenny comes back?” asked Dexter. “Should we call you then?”

“She won’t be coming back,” said Alex Baxter positively. “She and Tom are going to meet outside of town. We’ll pick them up at that point, if all goes well.” He glanced at them and smiled. “It’s really been a piece of luck for me to run across such fine, clever detectives. You go now. Act as if nothing has happened. I’ll leave in a few minutes.” He walked out the door and through the dining room.

The three detectives stared after him. And then they stared at each other.

“We have to tell him that we have the iron dog,” whispered Dexter. “He says it’s the real proof. The real proof that Tom Foster and Jenny Mayflower are crooks!”

“We’re concealing evidence,” Jay said.

“Let’s tell him when we call on the telephone,” suggested Cindy. “We have to talk first. We have to
prove
what we know—that Tom Foster hid the iron dog in the snowman.”

Dexter groaned. “Mr. Hooley’s Rule coming up!”

“Right,” said Cindy. “We can’t tell a real detective a thing we haven’t proved ourselves.”

“But we can prove that we have the dog,” said Jay.

“But that’s
all
we can prove,” answered Cindy. “Let’s go over our notes and then call him.”

“I’ll settle for anything,” agreed Dexter. “As long as we get something to eat. I’m starved.” He walked over to pick up the cactus plants he had set aside. “Can’t forget these!”

The Spotlighters walked to the front door. Many people were coming and going. Someone was paying Tom for a silver teapot. He was smiling and wrapping it in tissue paper.

Dexter paid for his cactus plants. “Better watch these,” grinned Tom. “They bite. Anyway, they prickle.”

They said good-bye. “See you later,” called Tom as they were leaving. “My parents are coming tonight. They love kids and they never see any. They’ll be here all day tomorrow. Why don’t you come on over? Dad would love to tell you all he knows about cactus plants.”

“Sure,” said Dexter.

They walked in the snow to the Temples’ house. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Dexter gave a war whoop.

“What’s that about?” asked Cindy.

“I’m so tired of whispering,” he shouted. “It’s great to talk out loud again.”

“I hear you’re back,” called Mrs. Temple from upstairs. “And I’d bet my whole free day that you have another mystery!”

“You’re right, Mom,” called Cindy.

“We’ve got a billion things to talk about,” Jay told Dexter and Cindy. “You two watch the red house and I’ll fix some sandwiches. I’m dying of starvation.”

“Good,” said Cindy. “I’d rather watch than fix.”