The Mystery of the Blinking Eye Page 12

  “Everything but a way to make you eat so you’ll get big and strong,” a white-capped nurse said as she placed a foaming glass of malted milk with a bent straw near the little girl.

  “If you drink it down to here”—Dr. Reed indicated a line near the bottom of the glass—“I’ll take the last sip for you, and you know, Muggins, every time I drink or eat... hocus-pocus! A fairy puts a present in my pocket for you!”

  The little girl sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed till the liquid slowly reached the mark. Then Dr. Joe took the glass and drank the rest. Evalinda’s big eyes traveled from one of his coat pockets to the other. When the last drop had disappeared, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cloth Chinese doll. “Her name is ‘Pretty Blossom.’ The magic thing about her is that you’ll never get lonesome as long as her head is on your pillow.”

  He tucked the small doll next to the little dark head on the pillow, then said, “Guess what, Muggins. Yesterday Bob and Barbara, the twins here, appeared on a talent show at Celebrity Broadcasting Studio. They sang folk songs on television.”

  “Oh, Dr. Reed,” Evalinda cried. “You know that’s what I want to do most of all in the world. If you’d close the door, I’m sure Nurse won’t mind if they’d just sing one little song. Will you, please?”

  “We’d love to sing for you,” Barbara answered. “We sing better with our guitars, but maybe you won’t mind if we sing without accompaniment.”

  So they sang:

  “Swing low, sweet chariot,

  Comin’ for to carry me home.

  Swing low, sweet chariot,

  Comin’ for to carry me home.”

  Evalinda’s clear voice took up the melody as they went on:

  “I looked over Jordan, and what did I see

  Comin’ for to carry me home?

  A band of angels comin’ after me,

  Comin’ for to carry me home.”

  Barbara and Bob stilled their voices gradually, and the little girl’s sweet voice rose in solo just before the song’s end.

  When the nurse opened the door to signal them that it was time to leave, the young people threw kisses back to the tiny, brave patient. Then they waited in a cheerful sun-room at the end of the hall while Dr. Reed made several other calls.

  “It was a wonderful evening,” Barbara said as the doctor let them out at the door of the apartment building. “We loved the chance to see the railroad and to meet your family, and Evalinda, too.”

  “My family and I enjoyed having you,” Dr. Joe said. “You could tell that from the way the kids acted. As for Muggins, she’ll be talking about you till her small arms and legs are sturdy and strong.”

  “That’ll be the day, sir,” Brian said, his voice filled with deep respect.

  The doorman let them into the apartment building. He touched Trixie’s arm as she passed. “There’s a telephone call for you, miss,” he said.

  Mart, overhearing, suggested, “Can’t you take it upstairs?”

  “I guess I can’t,” Trixie answered. “Whoever it is may be calling from a pay station or long distance. They’d just have to call back again. Go on upstairs, everybody, and I’ll be right up. It may be just a wrong number again, Mart.”

  “Yeah, it may be, but they asked for you. Come on, gang; let’s see if Miss Trask caught the video tape show. She just might have noticed those guys in back.” Trixie went into the booth, took up the receiver, and said, “Hello? This is Trixie Belden.”

  A man’s guttural voice answered.

  “What did you say?” Trixie inquired. “Meet you where? Who are you?”

  “You know who I am.”

  She could barely make out the reply.

  “Are you—you’re one of the men who’ve been following us all the time. Why didn’t you tell us what you want?”

  The caller ignored her question. “You got the statue?”

  “Yes, I have it.... You say it belongs to a rich man in Peru?... Someone stole it? Well, I didn’t steal it. I bought it.”

  The man muttered something in a foreign language. Then he said, “I give you thousand dollars for it.” Trixie could hardly believe what she was hearing. “A thousand dollars! Wow! I surely know where that much money would do a lot of good. You just come up here to our apartment tomorrow, and I’ll hand over the statue.”

  “No!” The word was sharp. “Listen to me now....” A torrent of words followed, and Trixie listened intently as the man gave instructions.

  “I see. You belong to the secret police. Where did you say I should meet you?... By myself? I’m sorry. I surely couldn’t go anyplace tonight by myself.”

  The flow of words began again. From time to time Trixie nodded.

  “Tomorrow in broad daylight? That’s different, but I still couldn’t go anyplace by myself. Why do you want me to go alone?... What?... Is it that secret? Well....”

  There was a note of pleading in the voice at the other end.

  “A restaurant? With lots of people in it? A table in the center of the room?... Heavens, a thousand dollars!... Well, I won’t say I’ll go, but give me the address. I’ll have to think it over.”

  Jeepers, Trixie thought to herself as she slowly replaced the receiver, that’s something for me to think about! Secret police! He said I couldn’t tell a soul. That means I can’t even tell Honey. I would like to get rid of that statue.... A thousand-dollar reward! What will I tell the gang when they ask who called me? I guess I’ll just have to say someone was calling about something I bought. Mart won’t let me get away with that, I’m afraid.

  It was exactly what Trixie told Mart, for he was the first to ask. She was sure he never would have accepted what she answered, without smelling a rat, if they hadn’t all been so busy telling Miss Trask about the wonderful evening.

  That night Trixie tossed from side to side almost the whole night, her mind spinning from one decision to another.

  Trixie’s Secret Meeting ● 15

  THE EARLY MORNING SUN streamed through the window next to Trixie’s bed and fell across her face. Startled, she awakened, thought a moment, then slipped quickly out of bed.

  “I’m going to meet those men,” she said to herself determinedly. “If I can only slip downstairs and out of doors before anyone else is up. I can’t let anyone know where I’m going. There’s no danger in it in broad daylight!”

  As she hastily put on her clothes, she tried very hard to convince herself she was right. “I think it’s worth taking a tiny little chance if I can get the thousand-dollar reward. When the Bob-Whites give the money to the fund for the station wagon for handicapped kids, they’ll be all through scolding me.”

  As Trixie cautiously turned the knob of their bedroom door, Honey moved restlessly and sighed. Oh, dear, she just mustn't wake up, Trixie thought and left the door slightly ajar to avoid the click it would make if she closed it. Now, if I can get from here to the hall, I’ll be all right.... Oh! There’s Miss Trask’s shower going! Well, what am I worrying about? She won’t hear me when I open the door to the foyer. It’s a good thing she left the little statue on my dressing table. She’ll be glad to know, when I get back, that we don’t have to go to the studio to show the police a rerun of the videotape. Everyone will be glad when I get rid of the statue, the mystery is solved, and I show them the thousand dollars! Oh, dear, I hope I can get there and back before anyone misses me!

  The taxi driver was an elderly man. He drove skillfully through the morning traffic, north on Broadway until he left the crowded district far behind. Then he speeded up.

  This isn’t a very nice part of the city, Trixie thought. It looks awfully dingy. She stared in pained astonishment at a man asleep on a doorstep. “Are you sure this is the address I gave you?” she asked the driver.

  “I’m sure, miss, but are you?” he answered. He stopped at a dilapidated building with a crooked sign across the front, JAKE’S HAMBURGER PLACE. “This don’t look like a high-school hangout to me. Is this the place?” The taxi
driver frowned.

  Trixie looked at the address on the slip of paper in her hand. “It’s the same number they gave me. Is this a bad part of the city?”

  “It ain’t St. Patrick’s Cathedral. What you goin’ to do here, kid?”

  “Meet some people.”

  “People you know?”

  “Yes—well, sort of.”

  “That must be all right, then.” The driver shrugged his shoulders as Trixie handed him the fare. “Kids go to the craziest places nowadays.”

  “Is it dangerous around here?” Trixie was a little alarmed at what the driver had said.

  “Depends on how you look at it. I’ve delivered some queer characters to this place. Makes me wonder if it’s really hamburgers they sell here. Ain’t never seen any police raidin’ the place, though.”

  “Can you come back for me in half an hour?”

  “Sorry, kid.” The driver shook his head regretfully. “I can’t promise that. I might be tied up. I’ll give it a try. Tell you what: If I am tied up, I’ll send someone back here to pick you up. Okay?”

  “Okay, I hope.” Trixie climbed out of the taxi and looked around cautiously.

  There wasn’t a soul on the street. Jake’s Hamburger Place showed no sign of life. When Trixie tried the door, however, it opened easily. For a moment, she didn’t see anything, for the change from bright sunlight outside to half-darkness inside blinded her. Then, off in a corner next to the wall, she saw a single electric light bulb glowing dimly above a table where two men sat.

  As Trixie entered the room, one of the men stood up. He was small and stocky. He had a livid scar across his forehead, down one eyelid, and well into his cheek.

  From behind the counter on the other side of the room, a third man spoke. “Coffee, miss?”

  “No, thank you. I must hurry back home for my breakfast. You are the man who telephoned to me, aren’t you?” she asked the scar-faced man at the table.

  “I am. Come over here to the table. My friend’s here. We talk business.”

  Trixie accepted the chair he offered against the wall next to his seated friend. When she sat down, she was hemmed in between the two men.

  “Now, sister,” said the man with the scar, “we talk. The idol you got belongs to Don Alfonso Alfredo. We come from his hacienda in Peru. It’s a idol been in the family a thousand years. Somebody steal it, bring it to this country. He wants it back.”

  “He’s gonna get it back!” the other man said. Tall, olive-skinned, his face creased with wrinkles, he was more hideous-looking than Scarface. He moved closer to Trixie menacingly. She felt suffocated... frightened... more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

  “I’m prepared to return it,” she said in a trembling voice. “You told me you would pay me a thousand dollars for its return. I only came here because I want to give that thousand dollars to a fund in Sleepyside— the fund to buy a station wagon to take handicapped children to school.”

  “Well, now, isn’t that a charitable thing to do?” the man over at the counter sneered.

  Startled, Trixie looked across the room to the third man. “Why, you—you’re the man at the United Nations—and at the Museum of Natural History! There are three of you!”

  “Exactly! So you can count, can’t you?” the man answered Trixie in a mocking voice. “If you had been a clever girl, you’d have handed the statue over to me in the first place. It would have saved you a lot of trouble. If I had been clever, I’d have taken it from you by force at the gift shop in the United Nations.”

  “You shoulda got rubbed out for missin’ it, Pedro. Wipe that smile off your face!” The scar-faced man scowled.

  “Watch your language, Blinky!” Pedro glared at the scar-faced man. “Can I help laughing when I think of you and Big Tony in the welfare racket? A thousand dollars for handicapped children!”

  Big Tony stood up. “That’s enough outta you! I got business to take care of. Come on, sister, hand over the idol! We ain’t got all day to wait!”

  “Softly there, Tony. Treat the young lady gentle!” Blinky said with a cruel smile. “I got her purse, see? I’ll hand it over to ya in justa—say, kid, if you double-crossed us....”

  He shook the contents of Trixie’s purse onto the table. Her compact rolled to the floor. Her lipstick followed. Blinky opened her coin purse. He handed the bills to Big Tony.

  “Don’t you dare touch my belongings!” Trixie cried, her eyes blazing. “Where is the reward you promised me?”

  “Yes. Yes. I call that a good question, now,” Pedro called from across the room. “Where is the young lady’s thousand dollars? Take it from your bankroll, Blinky. Give it to her!” Pedro laughed loudly again, at his own joke.

  Big Tony picked up Trixie’s purse and threw it with terrific force across the room. It struck Pedro right in the face, blinding him for a moment. Then he brushed his hand across his eyes, vaulted the counter, and lunged toward the table. In a flash, Big Tony whipped out his gun. He aimed it at Pedro’s chest, ordering him back to his place behind the counter. Cursing, Pedro obeyed.

  “Now, sister, where’s the idol?” Tony asked tersely as he returned his gun to its holster.

  For some reason she would never be able to understand, Trixie had concealed the small idol deep in the pocket of her skirt. Terrified, she reached to get it. In a second, Big Tony whipped out his gun again and turned it on her. “One kid like you less in the world ain’t gonna bother me one bit,” he sneered. “Hand it over, kid.”

  Almost fainting, Trixie tried to answer. She tried to reach into her pocket. Her hands were paralyzed. Her voice failed. Why did I ever come here? she thought desperately. I’ll be killed, and no one will ever know what happened to me.

  “Slow down, Tony!” Blinky yelled. “Can’t ya see the kid’s too scared to talk? The idol ain’t in her purse. We gotta find out where it is. Don’t let that gun go off, Tony. Remember what happened when ya knocked off that guy at the bank? We lost twenty grand, that’s all. If we was caught, we’d ’a’ got the chair. Don’t scare the kid before we get the idol. He ain’t gonna harm you none, kid.”

  “Oh, ain’t I?” Big Tony pushed the gun right up against Trixie’s side. Everything began to swim around her. I can’t faint, she thought and shook her head vigorously. “If—you’ll—just—wait—a—second—” she said, her voice hardly audible.

  “Speak up!” Big Tony prodded her in the side with his gun. “You’re takin’ forever! I ain’t a patient man. This gun might go off. Just keep your hands on the table!”

  “Then—how—can—I?”

  “Come across, kid, or else...

  He’s going to kill me! “Jim! Jim! Jim!” Trixie’s voice rose to a scream.

  Across the room, Pedro signaled frantically toward the street, his hand held high, pointing. “Cut it, Blinky, Tony—cops! Didn’t you see me trying to warn you?” He disappeared below the counter.

  A burly policeman burst through the door, followed by Jim, Dan, Brian, Mart, Bob, and Ned! Before they could reach the corner, Blinky and Big Tony had lifted a trapdoor back of the table and had disappeared down the opening.

  Trixie huddled at the table alone. She was hardly aware of Jim and Mart lifting her to her feet.

  “Get her out of here into the air!” Brian commanded, and the others stepped back out of the way. Outside, Brian rubbed his sister’s hands -vigorously while Jim gently stroked her head, his forehead wrinkled in deep concern. Slowly, very slowly, the color came back into her face and lips. Big tears filled her eyes.

  “Did you get—those men? Blinky, Pedro—Big Tony? Big Tony was going to shoot me!” A shudder ran through Trixie’s body. “Did you get them?” she repeated as the policeman pushed his way toward her.

  “Blinky, you said? Big Tony? Pedro?” The policeman turned to Dan. “It’s a miracle she’s alive. Do you know who they are?”

  Dan shook his head. “Pretty bad actors, I guess. I do know this place is a hideout for gangsters.”

&n
bsp; “You said it, boy.” The policeman nodded and went on. “Those men are three of the cleverest, most ruthless jewel thieves in the world. They’ve given us the slip now—through that trapdoor, up a ladder, over rooftops. There are a dozen escape routes in a radius of half a block, some of them underground. The whole place is a rat run.”

  “I know,” Dan said. “Why you ever came here, Trixie....”

  Trixie tried to answer. Her voice choked. She was the sorriest girl in the whole world. It was a dreadful thing she had done, she thought, dreadful not only because of her own risk, but also because she had imperiled the lives of those she loved. Big Tony could have blazed his gun at them before he disappeared. “How did you find me?” she asked weakly.

  “It was Dan,” Mart answered.

  “Not me entirely,” Dan said. “If it hadn’t been for the doorman—”

  “I think we should get Trixie home,” Brian interrupted. “This crowd is getting bigger all the time. She needs to rest. Her nerves are shot. Let’s get her out of this place.”

  “Right you are, Brian,” Jim said.

  A taxi had been edging its way along the curb. It stopped at Jim’s signal. The driver got out and opened the door. “I drove the kid here,” he announced when he saw Trixie.

  “He did,” Trixie told her friends. “He tried to keep me from stopping here.”

  “Good for you, Pete!” the policeman said. He held the crowd back while the young people got into the taxicab. “Get her out of here now, driver. Stand back, all of you. Stand back!”

  When they had driven a little way up the street, Jim asked the driver to stop at a drugstore so he could make a phone call. “To Miss Trask,” he explained. “I told her I’d call.”

  Poor Trixie, revived a little now, dreaded to go back to the apartment, where she’d have to explain what she had done.

  “Dad answered the phone,” Jim reported when he returned. “Miss Trask had called him at his office.” Now Trixie was really worried.

  At the apartment they found Honey, Diana, and Barbara in tears. Miss Trask’s face was white, Mr. Wheeler’s stern.