The Mystery of the Headless Horse (3 page)

“Fantastic!” Professor Marcus Moriarty cried, his eyes alight. “There can be no doubt, young man — those markings show the royal coat of arms of Castile!”

It was Friday afternoon, and the Three Investigators were sitting in the study of Professor Moriarty in Hollywood. Jupiter had called Alfred Hitchcock that morning, and the famous motion-picture director had named his friend Marcus Moriarty as the number-one expert on Spanish and Mexican history in Los Angeles. Mr. Hitchcock had agreed to call the professor and arrange an appointment. The moment school ended that day, the Investigators persuaded Hans to drive them to the professor’s house.

“This sword cover undoubtedly belonged to the King of Spain in the early sixteenth century,” the professor went on. “Where did you find it?”

Jupiter told him about the statue. “Is the cover old enough to have been the cover for the Cortés Sword of the Alvaros?”

“The Cortés Sword?” The professor’s eyebrows rose. “Why, yes, the cover is from the same period as the sword. But of course, the Cortés Sword was lost with Don Sebastián Alvaro back in 1846. Unless… don’t tell me you’ve found the sword, too!”

“No, sir,” Bob said.

“Not yet, anyway!” Pete beamed.

“Professor,” Jupiter said, “where can we find out exactly what did happen to Don Sebastián Alvaro back in 1846? And where are reports of other events in those days?”

“The Rocky Beach Historical Society has all the Alvaro family papers, I believe,” the professor said. “It also has copies of certain United States Army documents from the Mexican War years — those relating to this area. And, of course, the Historical Society would be the place to go for the most complete archives of local history from the earliest days.”

The boys thanked him and got ready to leave.

“You’ll find 1846 an interesting year to study,” remarked the professor. “The Mexican War was a rather strange episode in Californian — and American — history.”

“How’s that?” asked Bob.

“The United States Government declared war on Mexico in May 1846 in what many people believe was merely an effort to take over Mexican territory, including California. Many Californians had become unhappy under Mexican rule—mostly Yankees who had settled here, but even some of the old Spanish rancheros. When US naval ships seized the key California ports at the start of the war, there was virtually no resistance. Soldiers were then stationed along the coast — many of them were volunteers from one of John C. Frémont’s American exploratory expeditions. Frémont happened to be in California at the time, and his group was acting like invaders even before war was declared.”

“Yes, we learned about Major Frémont in school,” said Bob.

“Well, as I said, there’d been no resistance at the ports, and everything seemed quiet. Of course, many of the rancheros weren’t happy with the situation, but they gave no organized opposition. Then the Yankee commander that Frémont left in charge of Los Angeles proceeded to act with great misjudgement, arresting the local rancheros and humiliating them needlessly. The populace was soon up in arms. I suspect that Don Sebastián Alvaro was a victim of that commander’s unfortunate policies. If Don Sebastián had lived, I’m sure he would have joined the fighting that broke out. The Alvaro family were Mexican loyalists; I believe Don Sebastián’s son fought with the Mexican Army against the American invasion force in Mexico itself.

“In any event, the fighting in California lasted only a matter of months. California was soon securely held by the Americans, and Mexico formally ceded it to the United States at the end of the war, in 1848.”

“Gosh,” Pete said, “that must have been an exciting time here. Just think — a real war in our own backyard!”

Professor Moriarty gave Pete a severe look. “War may be exciting, perhaps, but it is never pleasant to live through. Be grateful you live in quieter times.”

Pete looked abashed, and the professor softened his tone. “I suspect you boys find plenty of excitement anyway. Do I gather correctly that you have reason to think the Cortés Sword may still be in Rocky Beach, and that you are searching for it?”

“Well, it’s just a wild hunch, sir,” Jupiter said.

“I see,” the professor said. His eyes glinted. “Since the sword hasn’t been seen for so long, I’ve always thought that it was probably only a legend. Certainly an exaggerated tale, in any event. Still, I’d be most interested in anything you find, eh?”

“We’ll be glad to let you know, sir,” Jupiter said, and thanked the professor again for his help.

Outside, a slow rain had started. Hans had gone on some business for Uncle Titus and hadn’t yet returned, so the boys had to wait. They stood under a tree, where they could keep dry.

“Professor Moriarty was pretty excited about that sword,” Pete said. “I guess a lot of people would be.”

“Yes,” Jupiter said, frowning. “I think, fellows, that we had better not mention the Cortés Sword if we can help it. I’m afraid we’d start all kinds of people looking everywhere. Professor Moriarty’s identification of the sword cover just about guarantees that it belongs to the Cortés Sword, so the chances of finding the sword in the Rocky Beach area are quite real.”

“Are we going to the Historical Society now?” Bob asked.

“That, I think, is our next step, yes,” Jupiter replied.

“What are we looking for, Jupe?” Pete asked.

“I don’t know exactly,” the stout leader admitted, “but if my hunch is right, we need something to show that events in 1846 didn’t happen the way people think they did.”

The rain grew heavier just as Hans arrived, and all three boys crowded into the truck’s cab beside the big Bavarian. When they reached Rocky Beach, Hans dropped them at the Historical Society and drove off on another errand. The boys hurried inside through the rain.

The quiet rooms, lined with books, files, and displays, were deserted except for the assistant historian. He knew the boys and their reputation well, and greeted them with a teasing smile.

“Well, what are you young Sherlocks investigating now?” he asked. “Has someone lost a pet cat, or are you on to something bigger?”

“Only as big as the Cor — ” Pete began boastfully.

Jupiter stepped on Pete’s foot, making him yelp in pain.

“Sorry,” Jupiter said blandly, and smiled at the historian. “We’re not on a case — just helping Bob with a research project on the Alvaro family for school.”

“Well, we have an Alvaro file,” the historian said.

“Might you have the US Army reports about Don Sebastián Alvaro, too?” Jupiter added casually.

The historian got both files. Each was a large cardboard box filled with papers. The boys looked at them in dismay.

“This army file is just the records of 1846,” the historian said, grinning. “They loved to write reports in those days.”

The boys carried the heavy files to a quiet corner.

“I’ll search the Alvaro file,” Jupiter decided, “and you two can go through the army records. They’re in English.”

For the next two hours the boys pored over the papers in the files, searching for any references to Don Sebastián Alvaro or the Cortés Sword. The historian was busy cataloguing a mound of new material, and he left the boys alone. No one else came into the quiet, book-lined rooms. The only sound was an occasional groan from Pete as he finished yet another dull report.

At the end of the two hours, the Investigators had gone through both files completely and were ready to display their findings. Bob and Pete had three documents, modern copies of original US Army papers from 1846, and Jupiter had a single yellowing letter.

“It’s a letter that Don Sebastián wrote to his son,” Jupiter explained. “It’s all I could find that seems important. Don Sebastián wrote it when he was being held under arrest in a house in Rocky Beach. His son was an officer in the Mexican Army down in Mexico City.”

“What does it say, Jupe?” Pete asked.

“Well, it’s in old-fashioned Spanish and hard for me to read,” Jupiter admitted unhappily. “All it seems to say is that the American soldiers arrested Don Sebastián, and that he was being held prisoner in a house near the ocean. There’s something about visitors, and about everything else being okay, and that he’d see his son in victory over the invaders. That could be a hint about an escape, but I can’t be sure. The letter is dated 13
^th
September, 1846, and there’s nothing in it about a sword.”

“Gosh, Jupe, remember he was under arrest,” Pete pointed out. “Maybe he used a code or something.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Jupiter agreed. “We’d better have Pico translate the letter word for word, and then — ”

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, fellows,” Bob said. He held up an army document. “This is a letter the US Army wrote to Don Sebastián’s son, José, when José came home after the war. It says that the US Government regrets the tragic death of Don Sebastián while attempting to escape on 15
^th
September, 1846. It claims the soldiers had no choice because Don Sebastián was armed and tried to resist. He fell into the ocean when he was shot. The shooting was reported by a Sergeant James Brewster, and corroborated by Corporal William McPhee and Private S. Crane. They were the soldiers on duty in the house where Don Sebastián was held.”

“We knew all about that,” Pete declared. “Pico told us.”

Jupiter was puzzled. “That letter doesn’t confirm all of Pico’s story. What about — ”

“The original report of Sergeant Brewster is attached to the letter,” Bob said gloomily. “It gives the same facts as the letter, except that it also says what Don Sebastián was armed with — a sword!”

Pete and Jupiter looked at Bob in dismay.

“The sergeant figured the sword was smuggled to Don Sebastián by some visitor,” Bob went on. “So I guess Don Sebastián did fall into the ocean with a sword.”

Jupiter stared out a window at the heavy rain, thinking hard. At last he asked, “What did you find, Pete?”

“Not much for around the same time,” Pete answered, dejected. “Just a letter to a commanding officer on 23rd September asking for details of the Mexican attack on the Los Angeles garrison early that morning, and naming some men absent without leave since 16th September and declaring them deserters. Nothing about Don Sebastián or any sword, so — ”

Jupiter sat up straight. “What soldiers, Pete?”

Pete read the document. “Sergeant Brewster, Corporal McPhee, and Private — ”

“Crane!” Bob cried.

Across the room, the assistant historian looked up in annoyance. The boys didn’t even notice.

“Brewster, McPhee, and Crane!” said Jupe with satisfaction. “Missing after 16th September, 1846!”

“Yeah, but — ” Pete’s eyes widened. “Wow! Those are the same three guys who shot Don Sebastián!”

“Who claimed they shot Don Sebastián,” Jupiter pointed out.

“You think they were lying, Jupe?” Bob asked.

“I think,” Jupiter said grimly, “that it’s a very suspicious coincidence that the men who reported shooting Don Sebastián deserted the very next day and never came back.”

“Does that mean they stole his sword?” Pete asked.

“Perhaps. But then who hid that sword cover in the statue, and why? It’s all very strange. We’d better talk to Pico.”

“It’s late, Jupe,” Pete said. “I’ve got to get home for dinner.”

“So do I,” Bob added.

“Then we’ll cycle out to see Pico first thing tomorrow.”

The Investigators made copies of the four documents on the Historical Society’s duplicating machine. Then they thanked the historian for his help, and left. The rain was still falling steadily. They ran all the way to the salvage yard, where Bob and Pete had left their bikes, and got soaked for the second time in twenty-four hours.

A red sports car was parked outside the salvage-yard.

“All wet as usual,” Skinny Norris called from the car.

“Not behind the ears like you,” Pete retorted.

Skinny flushed. “I came to do you all a favour, and tell you to stay away from those Alvaros.”

“Is that a threat?” Jupiter asked.

“Your father won’t get their ranch!” Pete said hotly.

“What’ll you three do to stop him?” Skinny sneered.

“We’re going to find — ” Pete began.

Jupiter kicked him. “We’ll think of something, Skinny.”

“Think fast.” Skinny laughed nastily. “We’ll have that ranch inside a week, so there! And those Alvaros are going to be in big trouble soon, so you better stay away, and just keep your big noses out of my dad’s business!”

Skinny roared off with a squeal of tyres. Standing in the rain, the boys looked after him uneasily. Skinny had sounded awfully confident.

Jupiter got up early on Saturday morning, even though the rain was still coming down steadily. But he soon discovered that the planned visit to the Alvaros would have to be delayed. Both Bob and Pete had some chores to do at home first. Jupiter than made a bad mistake. Because of the rain, he remained in the house. Aunt Mathilda pounced on him and put him to work.

“Can’t have you moping around because of a little rain!” Aunt Mathilda boomed heartily.

Groaning, and filing a mental note never to be caught again in the house on a Saturday even if there was a typhoon outside, Jupiter spent the morning sorting junk in the roofed-over section of the salvage yard. Let off for lunch, the stout leader of The Three Investigators ate quickly and slipped away to the team’s secret headquarters. Headquarters was in an old, damaged house trailer, long forgotten under mounds of junk in one corner of the salvage yard.

Soon after, Bob and Pete arrived at Headquarters, and the three boys hurried back outside to their bikes. Protected by oilskins, they cycled through light rain out along the county road. Jupe carried a road map in case they got lost in the foothills. They rode past the ruins of the Alvaro hacienda and found the small avocado farm of the neighbour Emiliano Paz without trouble.

The Paz house was an old frame building with a big barn and two small cottages behind. Diego was out chopping wood in the rain near one cottage when the boys rode up.

“Is Pico home?”

“He is in the cottage,” Diego said. “You have found —?”

Jupiter led them all into the little cottage. There were only two rooms and a tiny kitchen. Pico had just started a fire in the living-room fireplace. He stood up to greet the Investigators.

Jupiter told Pico and Diego what Professor Moriarty had said about the sword cover.

“It’s almost certainly the cover of the Cortés Sword,” Jupe concluded.

“And Don Sebastián wasn’t shot escaping at all!” Pete cried.

“At least,” Bob corrected his eager friend, “there’s a chance he wasn’t.”

Jupiter showed the two Alvaros the copies of the army’s letter to José Alvaro, the original report by Sergeant Brewster about the death of Don Sebastián, and the report of the desertion of Sergeant Brewster, Corporal McPhee, and Private Crane.

“So?” Pico said. “How do these documents change anything? We are told that Don Sebastián was shot — something we have no reason to doubt. And the sergeant’s report implies that Don Sebastián had his sword with him when he fell into the sea. That’s just what the Yankee commander told my family at the time.”

“Don’t you find it suspicious,” Jupiter asked, “that the men who reported the escape and shooting of your great-great-grandfather all deserted from the army the next day? One man deserting could be a coincidence, even two men, but all three?”

“All right,” Pico said. “Then it is as I always thought. The sword wasn’t lost in the sea. The three men stole it before shooting Don Sebastián. Then they filed their report, deserted, and vanished with the sword.”

“That’s possible,” Jupiter agreed. “But what about the cover? Who hid it in the statue? It almost had to be Don Sebastián, and the only reason would have been to hide the sword from the Americans. Except for some reason he separated the sword and scabbard from the cover.”

“The cover might have been hidden by whoever smuggled the sword in to Don Sebastián,” Pico pointed out.

“That’s another fishy part of the story,” Jupe said. “Why smuggle a valuable sword practically into the hands of the enemy? If Don Sebastián needed a weapon, why not take him a gun? He couldn’t very well fight with a jewel-covered ceremonial sword.”

Pico shrugged. “We don’t know for sure there were jewels.”

“Well, here’s what I think might have happened back then,” said Jupiter. “The Americans really arrested Don Sebastián to try to get the Cortés Sword. Yes, Bob, I know what Professor Moriarty said,” Jupe interrupted his account as he saw Bob about to object, “but Frémont’s soldiers could have been greedy, as well as eager to control local leaders. The men in Rocky Beach could easily have heard about Don Sebastián’s fabulous sword. Now, say Don Sebastián had hidden the sword in the statue. When he escaped from arrest, Sergeant Brewster and his two confederates went after him. They decided to try to get the sword for themselves, so they cooked up the shooting story to hide what they were doing. Then they deserted and went looking for Don Sebastián and the sword. Don Sebastián was afraid they’d find the sword where it was, so he got it and re-hid it. He left the cover in the statue — maybe to confuse them.”

“And what happened to Don Sebastián?” Pico said.

“I don’t know,” Jupiter said lamely.

“You don’t know very much, Jupiter,” Pico said, shaking his head, “and all you’ve said is the wildest speculation. Even if you are partly right, and my great-great-grandfather did escape alive, where did he hide the sword, and how will you find it?”

“What about Don Sebastián’s letter, Jupe?” Bob said.

Jupiter nodded quickly, and handed the copy of the letter to Pico.

“Would you translate it, Pico?” he asked, and motioned to Bob. “Write down the translation, Records.”

“Records?” repeated Diego, “why do call him Records?”

“Because he’s the Records and Research man of The Three Investigators,” explained Jupiter, “We sometimes call Pete ‘Second’ because he’s the Second Investigator. And I’m First!”

Pico had been studying Don Sebastián’s letter. “I know this letter,” he said. “My grandfather often read it, looking for a clue to the lost sword, but he never found one.” He translated the letter aloud: “ ‘Condor Castle, 13
^th
September, 1846. My dear José, I hope you are well and doing your duty as a Mexican. The Yankees are in our poor town, and I have been arrested. They will not tell me why, but I suspect, eh? I am a prisoner in the Cabrillo house near the sea, and they will let no one visit me or even speak to me. The others of our family are well, and all else is safe. Soon, I know, we will meet in our victory!’ ”

Bob looked at what he had written in his notebook.

“That stuff about suspecting why he was arrested,” he said. “You think he meant that the Americans wanted the sword, just as Jupe said?”

“And what about ‘all else is safe!’ ” Pete exclaimed. “Maybe he was telling José the sword was safely hidden!”

“Let me see,” Jupiter said, taking Bob’s notebook. “Perhaps you’re both right. I’m not sure. But I am sure now that Sergeant Brewster was lying in his report!”

“What makes you sure of that, Jupiter?” Pico asked.

“Sergeant Brewster stated in his report of the escape and shooting that Don Sebastián was armed with a sword, probably smuggled to him by a visitor! But Don Sebastián wasn’t allowed any visitors, so he couldn’t have been smuggled a sword! Brewster made that up to justify his story of the shooting, and to make people think that the sword was lost. I’m convinced the whole report was a lie to hide what he and his friends were up to!”

Pico studied the letter. “Yes, I see, but I still — ”

Outside in the rain there was a loud thud, a crash, and then the sound of logs rolling together. Feet pounded away.

“You! Stop!” a voice cried out.

The Investigators and the Alvaros ran from the cottage. They were just in time to see a horse galloping away to the left beyond the barn. A small, white-haired old man stood in the yard.

“Someone was listening at your window, Pico!” the old man cried. “I was coming to speak with you, and saw him! When he heard me, he ran and fell over the stack of firewood. He went behind the barn. He had a horse there!”

“Did you see who it was?” Diego cried.

The old man shook his head. “My eyes are not what they once were, Diego. A man or boy, I could not tell.”

“You are getting wet, Don Emiliano,” Pico said, his voice and manner respectful to the old man. “Come inside, please.”

Inside the cottage, Pico sat the old man near the fire, and introduced him to the boys. Emiliano Paz smiled at them.

“Was he out there very long, sir?” Jupiter asked.

“I do not know. Only now did I come from the house.”

“Who do you think it was, First?” Bob asked. “Why would he be listening at the Alvaro’s window?”

“I don’t know,” Jupiter said, “but I wonder if he heard us talking about the Cortés Sword?”

“Is that bad, Jupe?” Pete said.

“I suspect that Mr. Norris and his people wouldn’t want us to find a valuable sword,” Jupiter said grimly. “Last night, Skinny was pretty interested in what we might be doing.”

“I do not think it matters, Jupiter,” Pico said. “If all your speculations are true, they still tell us nothing about where the sword could be, or even if it still exists at all.”

“I’m sure that Don Sebastián knew those three soldiers were after the sword, and that he hid it,” Jupiter declared stubbornly. “And I’m sure he would have left a clue for his son. If not in that letter, then somewhere. But there should be some clue in the letter. He was a prisoner and in danger, and he must have thought it might be his only chance to tell José where to find the sword.”

They all looked at the letter again. Pico and Diego re-read the original, and the Investigators studied the translation Bob had taken down.

“If there’s a code, I sure don’t see it,” Pete said.

Pico shook his head. “It is a simple letter, Jupiter. I see nothing that could be a clue or a code in the Spanish.”

“Except maybe those hints about everything being safe,” Diego said.

“Jupe?” Bob said suddenly. “That heading at the top, above the date — Condor Castle. What is that? Do you know, Pico?”

“No,” Pico said slowly, puzzled. “A place, I think. People in those days, and even today, often put where they are writing from at the top of a letter. A town, a hacienda, a house.”

“But,” Bob said, “Don Sebastián wrote the letter in a Cabrillo house.”

“And his home was your hacienda,” Jupiter added. “Did you know it by that name? Was it ever called Condor Castle?”

“No,” Pico said. “It was always Hacienda Alvaro.”

“Then why did he write Condor Castle at the top?” Pete cried. “Unless it was some special place that José would know about! A clue!”

Jupiter pulled out his road map of the county. Everyone else peered over his shoulder as he studied it. Then Jupiter sighed and sat back.

“No Condor Castle,” he said unhappily, and then looked up. “Wait! This is a modern map! In 1846 the map would — ”

“I have an old map,” Emiliano Paz said.

The old man left the cottage. The others waited for him impatiently. At last the old man came back with a yellowed old map. Dated 1844, it was half in Spanish and half in English. Both Pico and Jupiter read it carefully.

“Nothing,” Pico said. “There is no Condor Castle.”

“No,” Jupiter had to agree.

Pico looked defeated and angry. “Foolishness, as I said! We will not save our ranch with a pipe dream! No, we must find a better — ”

Emiliano Paz said sadly, “Perhaps you have no other way, Pico. I am sorry, but I came to speak to you of bad news. You are very far behind with your mortgage payments. It is much money for me, and soon I must pay my own debts. I lent to you all the money I had, and now with all you own burned with your hacienda, you cannot pay me. I must have the money, and Mr. Norris has offered to buy your mortgage. I have come to tell you that very soon I must sell to him.”

Pete whispered, “That’s what Skinny meant last night!”

“I thank you for coming to me, Don Emiliano,” Pico said. “What must be, must be. You have your own family to consider.”

“I am sorry. Will you honour me by staying here?”

“Of course, Don Emiliano,” Pico said. “We are friends.”

The old man nodded and walked slowly out of the cottage. His head was bent as he crossed the muddy yard in the rain. Pico looked after him for a moment, and then went outside, too. Soon the boys heard him chopping wood.

“It’s all over,” Diego said hopelessly.

“No, it isn’t!” Jupiter insisted firmly. “We’ll find the Cortés Sword, Diego!”

“We will!” Bob echoed.

“You bet we will!” Pete chimed in. “We’ll… we’ll… gosh, Jupe, what will we do?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll look for every old map we can find,” the stout leader of the trio declared. “Condor Castle must be some secret clue, and we’ll find it. We’ll study every old map in Rocky Beach if we have to!”

“And I’ll help!” Diego cried.

The four boys smiled at each other.