The Mystery of the Blinking Eye Page 2

  Jim’s eyes twinkled. “We were talking over what we want to do this evening. I guess we’d better start our real sight-seeing in the morning. What do you want to do most of all?” he asked the visitors.

  “Starting tomorrow morning?” Ned asked.

  “Yes. Let’s begin with Barbara.”

  “I’d rather leave it up to the Bob-Whites. After all, they practically live in New York.”

  “That suits me,” Ned agreed. “How about you, Bob?”

  “It’s okay, provided we go to the United Nations, the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, Museum of Natural History, Central Park, Statue of Liberty....”

  Barbara laughed. “Is that what you call leaving it up to the Bob-Whites?”

  “We’ll do our best to work most of it in,” Brian said. “Now, how about tonight? Any suggestions, Miss Trask?”

  “Perhaps you can have a nice dinner someplace, then maybe go to an early movie. I must go and get some things ready to take to my sister. Why don’t you think about it for a few minutes? I’ll be right back,” Miss Trask said, leaving the room.

  “Did you hear that?” Bob asked. “Isn’t she even going to chaperon us at the movie?”

  “Of course not!” Trixie said positively. “There are movies not too far from here. Anyway, Miss Trask is no snoop. She trusts every one of us. She always tells us—and she’ll tell you, too—to keep our eyes open and feel responsible for each other.”

  “I’d be willing to do that as far as all the others are concerned,” Bob said, laughing, “but gosh, Trixie, being responsible for you would be a big job.”

  Miss Trask came back into the room. “It’s after four o’clock. Why don’t you unpack, maybe change your clothes if you wish, then decide where to dine?”

  “That would be a deli for me!” Bob said.

  Mart exploded. “Not with my appetite! We might end up with a sandwich, a piece of pie, and a glass of milk or a cup of coffee. I want more than that, to eat. Don’t you?”

  “He probably does,” Trixie said. “If you want to go to a delicatessen, Bob, we’ll go there for lunch sometime. There are lots of them around. If we’re going to the movie tonight, though, I think it’ll be a good idea to find a restaurant that’s nearer. What movie would you like to see? If you name it, it’s sure to be playing someplace in Manhattan.”

  “How wonderfully wonderful!” Barbara exclaimed. “May we just watch the theaters as we walk along, then decide which movie?”

  Trixie turned to the others. “Will that be all right?” When they nodded their heads, she asked Honey, “Don’t you think they’d like to go to that French restaurant on Fifty-seventh Street for dinner?”

  “We can try it,” Honey answered.

  Trixie and Honey already had unpacked their own bags, so they waited in the living room while Diana went to Barbara’s room with her.

  “It didn’t take me long to unpack,” Trixie said. “I didn’t bring many clothes with me. Did you?”

  “No, but if I were as beautiful as Di, I’d want lots of clothes.”

  “You are, too, Honey, every bit as pretty. Di brought two suitcases with her. It’ll take her a while to unpack.”

  “Yes, it will. And—about being beautiful—you don’t realize how pretty you’re getting to be, Trixie Belden. Let’s take a walk. I’m so jumpy. My insides are like Fourth of July sparklers. I suppose part of it is because I’m so glad the twins and Ned are here.”

  “Oh, let’s do walk. I can’t possibly sit still. I have the queerest feeling that we’re just at the beginning of the biggest adventure yet!”

  The girls walked south along Central Park West, then turned on one of the side streets to go around the block.

  “When you talk about the ‘biggest adventure yet,’ the sparklers inside of me turn to ice. I’m shivering. We’ve had some pretty scary things happen, Trixie. I don’t want the twins and Ned to have anything unpleasant spoil their visit. We have to take them on a super tour.”

  “A lot of people think of New York City as being full of nothing but taxis, high buildings, and gangsters. Say, Honey, look at this odd little shop!”

  Trixie paused in front of the window of a small antique store. Through the glass they could see a motley collection of articles: vases, lamp bases, old guns, antique jewelry.

  The girls put their hands to their eyes and peered into the room back of the window display.

  “There isn’t a thing in there as nice as the antiques we had in our show at Sleepyside,” Trixie said. “Did you ever see such a conglomeration as this?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that queer little statue over on the left side. Do you see it? It’s carved wood. Isn’t it odd?”

  “That’s right. It’s so ugly it’s darling! Let’s go inside so I can see it better.”

  “You aren’t actually thinking of buying it, are you?” Honey asked in surprise.

  “I don’t know till I find out what it costs and, at least, not till I see it closer. I like it.”

  Inside the shop, Honey whispered, “It’s scary in here. The light’s so dim. Here comes the owner.”

  At Trixie’s request, the man, swarthy and dark, took the small image from the window. Trixie held it in her hands, turned it over, and examined its rough brown surface. “What is it supposed to be?”

  “Some kind of an Incan idol, I guess,” the man said. “I don’t really know what this one is. My friend who owns this place gets lots of queer stuff from South America. I’m just staying in the shop for him for an hour or two. He’ll be back after a while if you want to come back again. A man left this idol for him shortly after he left, and I just stuck it in the window.” Trixie stood the small statue in the palm of her hand, amused at its grotesque expression. “I just have to have it,” she announced to Honey. “How much is it?” she asked the man.

  “I don’t know,” the man answered. “Nothing in here has a price tag on it. My friend told me he gets what he can for things. What do you think it’s worth?”

  “You’re the one to say.”

  He named a figure. Then, as Trixie gasped, he came down a little, then a little more, till finally she paid the price and tucked the idol into her purse.

  “Heavens, that’s about the last thing in the world I’d want to spend any money for,” Honey said.

  “I don’t care. I love it. Moms gave me some money to buy something I’d like while we’re in the city, and this is it. I’d rather have it than a new sweater.”

  “Imagine that! What will you do with it?”

  “Carry it in my purse for a good-luck piece.” Trixie stopped short where she stood. “That reminds me. That Mexican woman told me to use the purse she gave me immediately. She was deadly serious about it. I wonder why.”

  “Everyone likes to think a gift will be used. That’s all there was to it, probably. Jeepers, Trixie, look at the time!”

  The girls hurried back to the apartment. Even then, Mart exploded when they got off the elevator. “For pete’s sake, Trixie, where have you been? We were just about ready to call the police.”

  Trixie, mumbling an apology, went past Mart into the apartment. “I suppose Miss Trask is upset with me.”

  “She had to go to the hospital. She left right after you did. It’s a good thing you told her, at least, you were going for a walk. And some walk! Did you go down to Battery Park?”

  “Now, Mart, you’re the only one who’s excited.” Barbara smiled. “I wasn’t worried. I just finished unpacking and changing my dress. I’m so excited about being in New York!” Barbara’s eyes were starry.

  “Just look at what I found in the oddest little shop. That’s what took us so long. Look at this!” Trixie held the statue for all of them to see. “Isn’t he adorable?”

  “What in the world is it?” Mart asked.

  “Huh-uh'... don’t touch it! Just look. The man called it some kind of an Incan idol.”

  “I think it put a spell on Trixie,” Honey said. “Did you eve
r see anything quite like it?”

  “It is a queer one,” Jim agreed. “I’m not surprised it caught Trixie’s eye.”

  “Her pocketbook, you mean,” Brian said. “What did it set you back, Trix?”

  “It was my own money, and I’ll keep the price a secret. You do, too, Honey!” she cautioned and returned the idol to her purse.

  “I don’t care what it cost. In fact, I find myself curiously nonchalant about the whole fugacious performance,” Mart said smugly.

  “But not aphonic... rather ebullient,” Bob said glibly and grinned mischievously.

  “Whoops! He beat you at your own game!” Trixie exclaimed.

  Mart held up his two hands. “I surrender!”

  Given a choice of several restaurants, the Iowans selected a French one near the theater district.

  “Because I can’t wait to see Broadway,” Barbara said.

  “Because it’s near Times Square,” Ned said.

  “Because I’ll finally get to see all those neon signs,” Bob said.

  A haze of light from the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees as the young people rounded Central Park and approached Lincoln Center. Children no longer played in the park. Men and women hurried along the sidewalks, pushing one another in their haste and calling out quick apologies.

  “Everybody hurries here,” Ned said. “Gosh, how can they, when there’s so much to see?” His eyes were wide and shining. His own steps quickened to the tempo of those around him. Barbara, flanked by Brian and Mart, was speechless as a galaxy of neon lights came into view and the bustle and noise of the great city closed around them.

  “One of those places is where we’ll go to the movie after dinner,” Jim said. “Dan, stay on the other side of Trixie, and, Bob, keep your eye on Di. Where’s Honey?”

  “Right here behind you. I’m trying to keep up with Ned.”

  “Gosh, I’m sorry,” Ned said, and took Honey’s arm. “I’m sort of dizzy with all the lights. There seem to be millions of places to eat. Which one is ours?”

  “Up these stairs,” Jim answered and led the way. They went into a darkened world. Candles flickered on rough wood tables. Across the room, a huge fireplace burned real logs. There was a fragrance of roasting meat and tangy salad dressings. From an alcove came the muted sound of violin strings.

  When they had been seated, Jim explained, “If we were a little later, the trio would be playing dance music, and we could dance.”

  Ned raised his eyes from the huge menu. “Where?” Jim pointed to a small cleared space in the center of the room. “Right there,” he said.

  “That?” Bob asked. “I thought it was a worn place in the carpet. There’d never be room to move around. Who wants to dance, anyway?”

  “I guess just about everyone does, except you,” Barbara said.

  “We’ll certainly go dancing at least one evening while you’re here; maybe in the afternoon, if you’d rather,” Trixie said.

  Bob smiled. “You can drop me off at that shooting gallery we passed whenever you go dancing. I can dance in the gym at school anytime, but in New York—boy!”

  “Honey, is this a nightclub?” Barbara asked. “I’ve seen some of them in movies and on TV.”

  The Bob-Whites all laughed. Then, when Barbara looked embarrassed, Honey explained, “No, it isn’t, Barb. This is one of our favorite restaurants. Jim and I come here often with our parents when we stay for the weekend in our apartment.”

  “It’s a great place,” Jim said. “The Frenchman and his wife who own this call it a ‘family restaurant.’ Mme. Geronne supervises all the cooking herself, and the food is superb.”

  Mart still scanned the menu, his eyes wrinkled in a frown. “It’s a good thing you’ve been taking so much French, Honey. The only thing I see here that I recognize is oeufs. How do I get a hamburger?”

  “In a French restaurant? A hamburger?” Barbara gasped.

  “I always order a hamburger, wherever I go,” Mart insisted.

  “Do you want me to order for you?” Honey asked, looking around the table.

  “Oh, yes, please... a different dish for each one!” Barbara begged.

  “Yeah,” Bob seconded. “If I point to one of these things, it’s sure to turn out to be eggplant or cauliflower, and I hate both of them.”

  Honey translated the menu, then gave the order to an amused garçon.

  “I wish I’d ordered snails!” Bob sighed.

  “Boy! Be glad you didn’t,” Mart told him. “One time when I was here with Jim and Honey and their parents, I saw that fancy item escargots and ordered some. Ugh! Gosh! Phooey!”

  When they went down into the street after dinner, a fairyland spread around them. Whizzing cars threw their lights ahead in a golden blur. Red, blue, and green neon glowed to outline the names of theaters, restaurants, and even little tobacco and candy shops.

  A block or so away, a long line waited at the entrance to a movie theater. The young people took their places, laughing and talking, and before they knew it, they found themselves in the lobby. They found seats just as the feature began. For the next two hours, they sat quietly, completely absorbed in the picture.

  “You could call this whole thing ‘Evening in Paris,’ ” Ned said as they went out into the street again. “First the French restaurant, then a movie about Paris. That old deaf-mute in Montmartre almost had me weeping. Look at your eyes, Trixie!”

  “I just couldn’t help it; it was so sad.” Trixie sighed heavily. “Shall we walk back or take a taxi?”

  “Walk!” they cried in one voice.

  “But around Central Park, not through it. Stick close together!” Dan warned. “It’s dangerous at night!”

  A different crowd filled the streets. Instead of rushing, the people now strolled leisurely. The girls walked slowly; watching beautifully dressed women cross to canopied entrances. They sighed ecstatically as they caught whiffs of imported perfumes. Bob and Ned looked closely at the Rolls-Royce, Mercedes-Benz, and Cadillac cars.

  Reluctantly the group walked on, approaching the side street of small shops.

  “This is where I found my little statue,” Trixie announced. “You can’t see a thing in there now. Just a dim light way in the back.”

  The young people pressed their noses against the window. “I can’t see a thing in here except a bunch of old junk. You must have picked the only thing anyone would want to carry away when you chose that Incan idol,” Mart said.

  “Some queer things find their way to New York City from South America,” Jim said. “In spite of the fact that it’s so near, I don’t think we know much about their people. Say....” Jim’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Get a load of those characters at the next window... the little guy with the scar!”

  Brian looked. “On the move!” he ordered. “Quick! Everybody march!”

  They walked quickly up the street. There were fewer people now and fewer lights. For some reason she couldn’t define, Trixie’s heart beat faster.

  “I’m scared!” Diana said in a low voice. “Let’s hurry faster. It’s a good thing we’re so near our apartment. Those two men were listening—trying to hear what we were saying. Didn’t you notice that when we left, they moved over to the window of that antique store? Look back of you, Jim, way back there. They’re following us. Hurry!”

  “Don’t worry, Di; we’re home!” Jim herded everyone into the lobby. Then he inserted his key in the door that opened into the elevator entrance to the apartments.

  Safe inside, Trixie shaded her eyes and looked out at the street. Then she beckoned to Honey and Jim. “See those men slinking off up the street?” Her voice trembled with excitement. “They’re the ones who were following us. I wonder why.”

  The Paper Prophecy ● 3

  NOW,WHAT DO you think of that?” Trixie said as they stood in the living room. “Does anyone believe me now when I say something mysterious is going on?”

  “I do!” Barbara said quickly. “Isn’t it exciting?�
��

  “I don’t.” Mart went to the window, pulled back the curtain, and looked down at the street below. “Dan has everyone all worked up with his stories about wicked New York.”

  “I didn’t tell you half of it,” Dan said defensively. “There may not be a mystery now—I don’t think there is—but those men definitely followed us. They’re probably a couple of cheap thieves.”

  “It’s a cinch they don’t have anything to do with the Mexican woman at the airport, anyway,” Mart insisted. “That’s when Trixie began to act mysterious.”

  “I never underestimate any idea Trixie has,” Jim said. “If you remember some of the things that have happened to us, you won’t, either, Mart.”

  Trixie smiled at Jim. “Thanks. There’s a chance I may be wrong about the whole thing. I just have one of those queer feelings in my bones.”

  “Everybody watch out, then!” Mart warned, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Boy, I hope she’s right!” Bob’s eyes shone.

  Brian yawned ostentatiously. “At midnight I don’t care too much whether she’s right or not. Is anyone sleepy besides me?”

  “I think we all are.” Jim opened the door that led to the hall and to the boys’ apartment. “Everyone up early in the morning! We’ve lots to do. Come on, fellas!”

  Miss Trask had gone to her room as soon as they got home. Honey and Trixie said good night to Barbara and Diana at the door to their room. Honey went ahead of Trixie to turn on the light on the nightstand in the room they shared.

  “I’m as wide-awake as an owl,” Trixie said thoughtfully as she curled up in a comfortable chair. “How about you?”

  “I’m not sleepy, either, for some reason,” Honey answered.

  “It’s been quite a day. I wonder if that Mexican woman found her daughter waiting for her when the plane reached Mexico City.”

  “She seems to be on your mind all the time, Trixie. Why?”

  “I don’t know. It was good of her to give me this pretty handbag, wasn’t it?” Trixie picked up the straw bag, stretched the top to open it, and looked inside.