The Mystery of the Missing Heiress (7 page)

“Girls don’t get as thirsty as boys do,” Mrs. Hendricks said. “I have two of each myself. Do come in and have a Coke.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mart spoke up before Trixie could shake her head again.

Mrs. Hendricks led the way, laughing. “What is it? What did you say?” she asked as her little boy pulled at her skirt.

“Shall we ask their father to come in, too?” he said in a loud whisper.

Mrs. Hendricks looked up inquiringly.

Trixie shook her head. “No one is with us.”

Mrs. Hendricks opened the screen door to a pleasant living room, where the television set was turned on.

“I won t be a minute. Watch the program if you wish. Tommy was watching it. It’s the launching of the new spaceship.”

“It’s just about to blast off,” Tommy told them. “See? There’s the last of the countdown. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two...
wowiel
There she goes into orbit—and here’s Mom with the Cokes.”

They watched till the spaceship became a pinpoint of light in the sky and they heard the heroic report from the capsule that everything was “Go!” For a while they sat and sipped, discussing the takeoff and—more important to them—Juliana. Mrs. Hendricks seemed very fond of her, and Tommy adored her.

“She gave me some wooden shoes,” he said, running upstairs to get them; then he clumped back down wearing them. “Juliana used to live in Holland. I hope she never goes back.”

“She’s very likely to when she marries,” his mother said. “She
is
engaged, you know.”

“A letter from their old neighbor in The Hague, Mrs. Schimmel, told us that,” Jim said. “I just hope she won’t be married very soon. We want a chance to know her.” He put down his glass. “Thanks for everything, Mrs. Hendricks, but we’d better be shoving off. We don’t know where to look for Juliana in Sleepyside,” he explained to their hostess. “Won’t she go right to your home?”

“Not unless she, too, had a letter from Mrs. Schimmel before she left,” Jim said. “I doubt that she did.”

Honey shook her head positively. “I’m sure she didn’t. If she’d had a letter, I’m sure she would have telephoned you, Jim.”

“It’s all kind of mixed up, you see,” Trixie said to Mrs. Hendricks and Tommy, who walked with her to the station wagon.

Inside the car, Brian turned the ignition key. There was no response.

“Now what’s wrong?” He tried again.

He and Mart and Jim got out and opened the hood.

“Jeepers!” said Mart.

Brian and Jim just stared. What they saw was nothing but sheer vandalism—a tangle of wires!

“Someone put this car out of business on purpose!” Jim said when he found his voice. “Who could it have been, Mrs. Hendricks? Some smart-aleck kid in the neighborhood?”

“There aren’t any smart-aleck kids in this neighborhood,” said Mrs. Hendricks with spirit. “There isn’t a child older than Tommy for blocks. Anyway, nice people live around here. I should know; I’ve lived here for ten years. I don’t know who would tamper with your car. Can you fix it, do you think?”

“Nobody but a first-rate mechanic could fix that mess,” Jim answered, his face red with outrage over the damage.

Honey, disturbed lest Jim offend the neighbor who had been so kind to them, nudged him with her elbow, so he quickly added, “Some wise guy must have gone past while we were inside. He just reached in and grabbed all the wires in sight, just for kicks.”

Trixie peered anxiously under the hood, then turned to Mrs. Hendricks. “It’s a shame we have to bother you like this.”

“What’s worse, I’m afraid we’ll have to bother you more,” Brian said. “May we please use your telephone to call the Automobile Club?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Hendricks answered and opened the door for him. “Nothing like this ever happened on our block before.”

It was a long time till the mechanic arrived. He shook his head at the damage.

“Can we get going soon?” Jim asked.

“Not for a couple of hours, at least,” the man said, puzzled. “Whoever did this must really hate all of you.”

“Nobody around here even knows us, so they couldn’t hate us,” Trixie said.

“Then it must have been some weirdo,” the repairman said. “It happens everywhere nowadays. Too often, I’d say.”

“Won’t you come inside and wait?” Mrs. Hendricks asked the Bob-Whites. “It’ll be more fun watching television than just sitting around here.”

“Is there a shopping center near here?” Trixie asked. She didn’t want to wear out their welcome.

“Three blocks up this street,” the neighbor answered. “The stores are interesting, and there’s a branch of the Bronx library.”

“Let’s walk up there then,” Trixie said to Honey. “Is it all right, Brian?”

“Sure—but not for more than two hours. When the mechanic gets through here, we get rolling.”

“You’d better leave whatever cash you have with me,” Jim told Honey. “It might run into money.”

It did run into money, and it was late afternoon before the station wagon was in running order again.

“Get in the backseat, please, Mart,” Jim suggested as they thanked Mrs. Hendricks, said goodbye to Tommy, and climbed into the station wagon. “I’ll do the driving going back, and I like plenty of arm room.”

“Yeah, we’ve had all the bad luck we can take for one day,” Mart agreed and climbed obediently into the third seat, stretching out full length.

Trixie, about to climb in behind Jim and Brian, stepped on something hard and turned her ankle. She would have fallen if Honey hadn’t caught her.

“Never mind,” she said quietly. “Don’t get excited, anyone. It didn’t hurt me. I just stumbled on this.” She held up a brown pipe, handling it gingerly and wrinkling her nose at its smell. Then she threw it into the shrubbery.

“It was probably something Tommy was playing with.”

“Or maybe the mechanic left it. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” Brian asked, puzzled by the odd look on Trixie’s face. “Does your ankle hurt?”

“No,” she answered, and Jim started the car.

When they were on their way, however, Trixie whispered to Honey, “Did you smell that pipe?”

“I can still smell it on your hand,” Honey answered under her breath. “Here’s a piece of tissue. Wipe off your hand. Why are we whispering?”

“I’ve smelled that same tobacco before, that’s why.”

Honey giggled. “I sometimes agree with Mart. You can make a mystery out of anything, Trixie.”

“Maybe I can. But when two unusual things happen together, it can add up to mystery. You don’t think all those wires tangled themselves, do you?”

“For pete’s sake, quit giggling and talking and let somebody rest, won’t you?” Mart complained.

“You’re just bothered because you don’t know what we’re saying.”

“Wrong again, Trix,” Mart answered. “All I’m interested in just now is food—food with a capital F. I hope Moms has kept something warm for us.”

She had—a huge iron kettle of bubbling-hot soup. And there were sandwiches and a big wooden bowl of tangy garden-vegetable salad.

They all gathered around the kitchen sink to wash their hands, crowding and splashing.

“Some of you could use the lavatory in the downstairs bathroom,” Trixie’s father suggested. “What made you so late?”

They all tried to answer at once, telling about the damage to the car and their long frustrating wait.

“I’ll bet you were plenty mad,” Bobby said, when they were all at the table, “ ’specially when you didn’t find Juliana there.”

Trixie dropped her spoon, almost spilling her soup- “We haven’t told you that yet. How could you possibly know that?”

“ ’Cause she’s here!” Bobby cried triumphantly.

“Here? Here in this house? Moms, is she?”

“He didn’t mean this house,” Mrs. Belden said. “I was going to tell you about it as soon as you all settled down a bit. Mrs. Vanderpoel telephoned a while ago to say that Juliana is staying at her house.”

“She is?” Trixie cried. “How—”

“She came to Sleepyside today to see about the land that is in her mother s name.”

“But how did she wind up at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s?” Trixie interrupted, puzzled.

“If you will just let me finish my story—” Mrs. Belden said with a smile.

“I'm sorry, Moms.”

“It seems that Juliana went to the newspaper office to inquire and was told that information about her mother had come to them from Mrs. Vanderpoel. So, after she had gone to the office of deeds in the courthouse, she went to see Mrs. Vanderpoel. You know how hospitable she is—and lonesome, too, since Spider Webster and his brother moved away. Well, she invited Juliana to stay at her home while she is here in Sleepyside.”

“Jeepers“” Trixie said. “We’ll have to get over there and see Juliana. Did Mrs. Vanderpoel say what she was like?”

“Oh, Trixie,” Jim said, laughing, “how could she when Juliana was right there, listening? I wonder why she didn’t come to our house.”

“Probably because she didn’t know about you till she talked to Mrs. Vanderpoel.”

“Oh, yes, the people at the newspaper showed her the
Sun,”
Mrs. Belden said. “Mrs. Schimmels letter to the courthouse was in it. Your dad read it to you last night. Remember?”

“Then she knows Jim is her cousin and that we’re glad to know about her, doesn’t she?” Honey asked.

“Yes. Mrs. Vanderpoel said Juliana couldn’t wait till she could meet her Cousin Jim.”

“Mrs. Belden,” Jim said, “do you think we should telephone her or just go over to Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house?”

“I think you should take time to finish your supper and then run along. At the rate you’re spooning down that soup, you won’t even be able to taste it.”

“It’s sheer starvation that makes me gulp,” Jim assured her. “All we had to eat all day was a package of potato chips apiece and a Coke. The De Jongs’ neighbor gave us the Coke. We had to put all our money together to pay the mechanic who fixed the car. At that, we barely made it.”

“It’s too bad the neighbor didn’t offer you a bite of something,” Mrs. Belden remarked.

“Oh, she did. But we thought we had bothered her too much already. We told her we brought back some food from the shopping center.” Trixie giggled. “We did—the potato chips. It was all the money we had.”

At Mrs. Vanderpoel’s home, Jim smoothed back his hair, straightened his jacket, and rang the bell.

When the door opened, they all crowded into the big, comfortable living room. “I’m so glad to see you,” Mrs. Vanderpoel told them. “I thought you’d never get back to Sleepyside. Juliana’s been watching for you.”

A tall, slender blond girl came running down, her hands outstretched. “Oh, what a lot of redbirds!” she exclaimed. They were still wearing their Bob-White jackets. “Are you a singing group?”

“No. It’s our club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen. I’m Jim—”

“Cousin Jim!” Juliana cried and shook his two hands warmly. “I didn’t know I had a Cousin Jim until today. The letter from Mrs. Schimmel didn’t reach me before I left the Bronx.”

“What a letdown for you,” Mart said, laughing. “I'll bet you expected to see a six-footer... and a handsome one!”

“Mrs. Vanderpoel told me how nice he is,” Juliana said.

Poor Jim’s freckled face grew red.

“And what a wonderful group of friends. A club, you say? You must tell me about it.”

“This is Honey, my sister. Her family adopted me,” Jim said. “And the Belden family: Trixie, Brian, and Mart. There are two other club members, Diana Lynch and Dan Mangan.”

“You’ll be seeing enough of us if you’re staying awhile,” Mart told her as he and Brian and Trixie crowded together on an old Dutch settle.

Juliana’s large, bright blue eyes darted from one to another, lingering on Jim’s face and Honey’s.

“I’ll not be here very long,” she explained. “Just until I establish my claim to the strip of land that is in my mother s name. Then I shall be going on.”

“Yes, we expected that,” Jim said. “Mrs. Hendricks said you want to join the De Jong family in the Poconos.”

“Mrs. Hendricks?” Juliana looked inquiringly at Honey.

“The De Jongs’ next-door neighbor, you know.” Juliana nodded.

“I do wish we had reached the Bronx before you left,” Honey went on warmly. “Then maybe you would have stayed at our home. Jim would have liked that.”

“I hope
you
would have liked it, too, Honey. Mrs. Vanderpoel has been very kind.” Juliana smiled at her hostess. “And I shall see you all often, I hope.”

“I’m glad as can be to have her here with me,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said. “You know how I miss Spider and Tad Webster. Spider was a policeman in Sleepyside,” she explained to Juliana. “Tad is his young brother. I felt so secure when they were here. Then Spider accepted a better position in White Plains. Jim must tell you sometime how Spider helped all of us when the Bob-Whites had their antique show for UNICEF.”

“Yes, I’d like to hear about it. In the morning, Cousin Jim, do you think you could take me to the courthouse? There are papers there to sign. I’m sorry I do not have a car----”