The Hudson River Mystery Page 5
”But you’re not in the doghouse at all,” Trixie began. Then she noticed that he was clutching his stomach. ”Oh, Brian, you really are sick,” she wailed.
”Don’t worry,” he said weakly. ”I—I made an appointment with Dr. Ferris for a complete check-up after school tomorrow. So there’s no need for you to get excited or do anything on my behalf.”
Trixie’s relief at the thought that he was finally seeking help was so great that she dropped the subject and tried to act as carefree as possible throughout the evening.
It was easy enough to enjoy Mrs. Belden’s dinner of baked ham, scalloped potatoes, buttered carrots, and spinach salad with hot bacon dressing. Trixie forced herself to ignore her discomfort when talk drifted to Brian’s personality.
”Your astrological sign is Libra, isn’t it, Brian?” asked Mr. Belden as he passed the carrots to his son.
”But he’s close enough to Scorpio to be influenced by that sign, too,” said Mart, who always seemed to know some miscellaneous facts about nearly every conceivable subject.
”You would believe in that stuff,” Trixie sniffed.
”You can’t deny that it seems to apply to our elder sibling,” argued Mart. ”He’s gentle, well-balanced, and sympathetic to pain, just like a Libra. Plus he’s quiet, determined, and intelligent—just like Scorpios are supposed to be.”
”It doesn’t seem to make any difference whether you believe in it or not,” said his mother, getting up to clear the dishes. ”All you have to know is that Brian’s got everything it takes to make the best doctor in the world!”
Brian smiled, but he looked more embarrassed than pleased.
Mrs. Belden brought an angel food cake to the table, and everyone cheered and sang ”Happy Birthday” to Brian.
”Speech, speech!” demanded Mart and Bobby.
Brian smiled again, then made a show of standing up to address his family. It seemed to Trixie that he came close to losing his balance when he pushed his chair back, but she told herself that she was just imagining things.
What happened next, however, was not her imagination.
”Thank you for everything,” he began.
”Oh, it was nothing, really,” Mart interrupted modestly.
”I’m sorry for—”
Brian’s eyes were closing. He staggered back a few steps from the table and, without another word, suddenly slumped to the floor.
Trixie shrieked and rushed over to him. Brian was still breathing, but it sounded labored. Bobby burst into tears.
Amid the terrible pandemonium, Mr. Belden ordered, ”Call an ambulance, someone.”
To everyone’s horror, Brian had not regained consciousness by the time the ambulance attendants entered and began loading him onto a stretcher.
Tears streaming down her face, Trixie watched mutely as the ambulance sped away with her brother, followed by her parents in the Belden station wagon.
”I’ll call as soon as we know anything,” her mother had promised, but to Trixie that was small comfort.
Why didn’t I tell her? she screamed silently. Why didn’t I tell someone? This might never have happened. I could have prevented it!
In shocked silence, Mart and Trixie cleaned up the kitchen, then went into the living room to watch TV with Bobby. The two of them took turns holding their frightened little brother. None of them could make sense of the programs, so intent were they on waiting for the phone to ring.
An hour that seemed to drag on for years went by, and the phone call finally came. Mart grabbed for the phone, was silent a moment, then turned to the others.
”Brian s been poisoned,” he said grimly.
Still More Surprises • 6
IS—IS HE GOING to die?” Trixie asked hoarsely.
Mart turned away from the phone he’d just hung up, blew his nose, and shook his head. ”Cyanide detoxification is quite rapid. Moms said that there usually aren’t any permanent aftereffects.”
Bobby looked as bewildered as Trixie felt. ”What’s shia—whatever you said?”
”I believe its technical name is hydrocyanic acid,” Mart said, mostly for Trixie’s benefit. It s an extremely poisonous substance—instantly lethal in its pure form.”
Trixie fell back on the couch with a terrified moan.
Mart turned to Bobby and translated gently, ”Brian was very sick. Now he’s getting better in the hospital. He’ll be home soon.”
Trixie sat up with a gasp. ”But why didn’t he die, if it’s so lethal? What saved him?”
”They don’t know yet,” Mart said simply.
It wasn’t until the following morning at breakfast that Trixie got some answers. What she learned, though, raised even more questions.
Her parents had stayed up most of the night with Brian and looked like it. Their faces were tired, but their eyes were shining with relief.
”Yes, Brian’s going to be absolutely fine,” said Helen Belden for the twentieth time. ”They think he’s coming home tomorrow, and he’ll be able to get back to normal very quickly.” A strange, confused expression crossed her face.
”It was quite easily determined that cyanide was causing all of Brian’s symptoms,” Peter Belden went on. ”The main clues were the condition of the mucous membranes and the scent of his breath. Cyanide leaves the distinct odor of bitter almonds. The doctors administered something called amyl nitrite as an antidote, and he recovered within a few hours.”
”And the symptoms,” prompted Trixie. ”They included his dullness and uneasiness lately?”
Her father nodded. ”The poison affects people differently. It can cause stomach cramps, a dazed mental condition, difficulty in breathing, dizziness, convulsions, and eventually death. The doctor said that it was lucky that Brian was so healthy otherwise, since he could very easily have died. His fainting last night was a sort of signal to us that something was very, very wrong. Apparently the poison had him so confused that he couldn’t tell us any other way.”
”That explains a lot,” murmured Trixie, thinking of his unusual secretiveness lately.
”It seems that the poison’s been building up in Brian’s body for some time,” Mrs. Belden said slowly.
”What do you mean?” gasped Trixie.
”The doctors couldn’t really tell us very much,” Mrs. Belden said. ”They say he couldn’t have had the poison in its pure form or he’d have been killed instantly. So they think he’s been getting it gradually, in small doses. It was just starting to reach the toxic level.” She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. ”Dr. Ferris scribbled down a number of plants with cyanogenetic potential. He—he thinks that Brian must have been getting one of these things here at home. Most of them are things that wouldn’t harm a person if he ate them once—it’s when they build up in the system—”
”May I see the list?” Trixie asked eagerly.
Mart finished his last blueberry muffin and snatched a book off the counter. ”Later, Trix. We’re going to miss the bus.”
”I’m coming, I’m coming,” mumbled Trixie, who was making no motion other than scanning the list her mother had handed her. She didn’t recognize anything on it as something Brian would have eaten:
Hydrangea; Christmas berry; Johnson grass, sudan grass, velvet grass, arrow grass; lima beans from tropical countries; the pits of fruits such as cherries, peaches, apricots, prunes; apple seeds; almond shells; wild cherries.
”What a terrible diet!” Trixie exclaimed.
”Not as terrible as you’re going to feel if we miss that bus,” called Mart. ”Now, come on, before I give you a sesquipedalian lecture.”
Trixie hastily kissed her parents good-bye and ran for the door. ”Sounds like that would hurt you more than it would hurt me,” she told her brother.
”In words of one syllable,” said Mart, grabbing her arm to hurry her along, ”sesquipedalian means ’words of more than one syllable.’ ”
Trixie’s retort was lost in the roar of the bus pulling up
to their stop.
The other Bob-Whites were shocked to hear of Brian’s collapse and its cause.
”What a rough blow,” whistled Jim.
”Let’s all go see him after school,” Di said.
”If he’s coming home tomorrow,” said Honey, ”maybe we should let him rest and see him tomorrow.” Waiting until they were walking into the school building, she pulled Trixie aside and asked, ”Do you think Brian’s sickness was responsible for his decision not to become a doctor?”
”I didn’t dare ask my parents,” Trixie confessed. ”We’ll have to wait and ask him when we see him, I guess.”
”Trixie, how do you feel?” Honey asked suddenly, her expression alarmed.
”Honey Wheeler, why are you asking me that? It’s my brother who’s in the hospital!”
Honey’s lip quivered. ”But m-maybe you 11 be next, if what the doctor says is true, and something in your house made Brian sick. Don’t you all eat the same food?”
Trixie thought for a moment, then sang out, ”Jeepers, you’re a genius!”
”I beg your pardon?”
”Don’t you see? Brian’s the only one in our family who got sick, so it can’t be something in our kitchen! Oh, woe, and Moms sounded so worried about that, too. Wait till I tell her!”
”But Trixie—if Brian didn’t get poisoned at your house, then where could he possibly have been poisoned?”
”I don’t know, but we’ll find out,” Trixie said confidently. ”With all the mysteries we’ve been able to solve, we’ll surely be able to crack this one!”
”Must you treat everything as though it were a mystery?” complained Honey. ”This is your very own brother we’re talking about, and his own life and death.”
”Don’t you think I know that? That’s why it’s so— Oh, Loyola! Loyola, wait a minute!” Trixie left Honey’s side to corner Loyola near her locker. She felt that Brian’s lab partner should know about his illness.
Loyola’s first reaction to Trixie’s brief summary was to say, ”Gee, I’m really sorry to hear that.” Then she smiled slightly. ”He was my only competition around here! Tell him to take it easy and not to worry about our project. I can handle it on my own till he gets back.”
”I will,” promised Trixie, breaking into a run to get to her homeroom on time.
By the following afternoon, when Trixie and Mart came home from school, Brian was already home from the hospital. His two siblings rushed up to his room without even taking their jackets off.
”Brian, how do you feel?” Trixie asked breathlessly. ”Gleeps, you look wonderful!”
Brian was sitting up in bed, his dark eyes twinkling. ”Personally, I feel ready to climb Mount Everest, although you know Dr. Ferris. He has me eating and sleeping more for a few days before he’ll say I’m back to normal. I sure feel like a different person already, though.”
”Naturally,” said Mart. ”You, of all people, would take that ’physician, heal thyself’ stuff pretty seriously.”
The phone rang, and Mrs. Belden called out that it was for Mart. When he left, Trixie moved closer to Brian’s side and leaned forward with an anxious air.
”Physician?” she asked him gently.
Brian winked back at her.
”Oh, Brian, you mean you really want to be a doctor again? I mean—jeepers, that sounds like I’m trying to talk you out of it! What I mean is, it was just the poison that was making you sound like such an idiot,-wasn’t it? No offense, if you know what I mean—”
”Relax, sis. Now that I can think straight again, I realize how much I must have worried you.”
”If that isn’t just like you!” Trixie exclaimed. ”To be worried about me when you’re the one in trouble!”
”Well, I’m not in trouble anymore. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I can see how everything that’s gone wrong lately is a direct result of that poison. My car accident, my crankiness, doing poorly on that test, my selfdoubts, everything. Because my body was giving me so much trouble and I couldn’t figure out why, I was making myself into a nervous wreck. But I believe that, deep down inside, I wasn’t really losing sight of my life’s goal. There were just a few clouds in the way, that’s all.”
”Yipes, I’m so relieved,” Trixie sighed. ”Now, we’re just going to have to figure out what it was that poisoned you.”
Brian frowned. ”I’ve been wracking my brain over that, too. I’m supposed to keep a record of everything I eat, and then go back for some more tests soon. It’s really a puzzle to me, though, how I’m the only one in the family to come down with this.”
It finally occurred to Trixie to take off her jacket. ”Oh, before I forget,” she said, ”I’m supposed to tell you that Loyola said for you to take things slow. She’ll keep your project moving till you’re well again.”
”I’m well now,” said Brian. ”And I plan to keep our appointment to meet at the river on Sunday.”
Trixie was only half listening. ”You know, there’s something kind of mysterious about Loyola.”
”I’d love to meet the person you didn’t think was mysterious!”
”Well, I wouldn’t,” Trixie said with a chuckle. ”Who wants to meet boring people? Anyway, she didn’t seem as upset as I thought she’d be when I told her about you. All she was worried about was the project. As if that were more important than you!”
”It is very important, Trix. Try to get that through your head. Loyola wants to become a top-notch scientist, and competition in her field is very intense. A project like ours will mean a lot to her future. To mine, too.”
”Competition,” Trixie repeated. ”Loyola said something about that, too—that you were her only competition. Well, I think that’s odd! I mean, it’s so—so cold-blooded to think of people in those terms—as competition if they’re well, and burdens if they’re sick.”
”Aren’t you getting just a little carried away?” Brian demanded. ”Loyola is going into a field where good grades and good jobs don’t come easy. That doesn’t make her a monster.”
”Doesn’t she seem kind of inhuman to you?”
”No,” Brian said sharply. ”You’re the one who’s striking me that way. You want to be a detective so much that you leap to conclusions too quickly—conclusions that could hurt people. Loyola would be crushed if she ever heard what you were saying, and I don’t want to hear you ever, ever mentioning this little conversation to her. Promise?”
Trixie nodded, surprised at Brian’s vehemence but aware that he was right. This isn’t the first time I’ve been accused of speaking before thinking, she scolded herself.
”I really appreciate your concern for me the last few days,” Brian went on. ”But now it’s time for me to show my concern for you, Trix. I know I tease you a lot, but I—well, I honestly think you have a great career ahead of you—if you can control that habit of jumping to conclusions.” Trixie blushed to the roots of her sandy curls. It wasn t often that she received such direct praise from her quiet older brother. And she appreciated his advice, too—as contrary as it was to her natural inclinations.
It was immediately after her talk with Brian that Trixie decided to let the doctors determine the cause of the poisoning. Not that she wasn’t going to keep her eyes and ears open, but there were other problems demanding her attention. The shark, for instance.
The following day, after her Saturday morning chores were out of the way, Trixie phoned Honey to see what her plans were.
”I’m simply too exhausted to even think about the rest of today,” Honey said. ”Regan has me and Jim exercising the horses every spare minute, since you and your brothers are—ahem—too busy to ride these days.”
”I know,” Trixie said sorrowfully. ”But, listen —since the horses have already been exercised, how about taking a bike ride with me?”
”This sounds like you have something besides a mere ride in mind.”
”Sort of,” admitted Trixie. ”I want to go down to Killifish Point again, to hunt up that
shark.” To forestall complaints from Honey, she went on, ”Now, let me finish! I’ve decided I just have to report what I saw to someone, but to make people believe me, it would be best if I could report more than one sighting ol it. Otherwise they’ll just call me a crackpot.”
”They’ll call you worse things than that.”
”You didn’t have to agree so fast,” Trixie said pertly. ”Anyway, does that mean you’ll go with me?”
”I suppose so. But I have to be back late this afternoon. Mother and Dad are in a dither over a dinner party they’re having tonight. I have to be here to help welcome the guests.”
”Tell them to dither not—you’ll be the hostess with the mostest,” Trixie promised. ”I’ll meet you out on Glen Road in fifteen minutes.”
An Indian summer weekend was in full swing, and it was a perfect day for a bike ride. The girls chattered back and forth as they rode, enjoying the stunning fall colors and the balmy air.
The river, as they saw when they parked their bikes at Killifish Point, was as still as a mirror. Trixie scanned it anxiously for fins, which would have shown up clearly in the absence of significant waves. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary so far. Once again she could feel possessive toward her river—a powerful, glittering presence in her life.
It wasn’t until Trixie pulled Honey partway down the cliff that the girls came upon anything unexpected. There, almost hidden by bushes, was a motionless, blue-jeaned figure, sitting with legs crossed on a large rock overhanging the water.
With a cry of recognition, Trixie scrambled toward the rock. Then she gasped in horror as the figure whirled around and staggered backward toward the river, teetering precariously close to the edge of the cliff.
Trapped! ● 7
THEA VAN LOON recovered her balance almost immediately. Her alarmed expression remained as she turned to face the two girls.