The Masked Monkey (5 page)

Read The Masked Monkey Online

Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

“Where is it?” asked Frank, who by now was wide awake.

“The cable was sent from Belem, Brazil. It's on the Amazon River, I believe.”

“That's a strange place for him to be. Well, we'd better speak to Mr. Retson right away.”

“Yes, sir. He is waiting for you in his den,” Harris said.

The Hardys found the tycoon looking very much relieved. “It's obvious what's happened,” he chortled. “Graham has learned the error of his ways. He's got over all his nonsensical ideas and is ready to come home. The mystery is solved!”

“Looks as if there's nothing more for us to do,” Joe observed.

“Wrong!” Retson retorted. “I hired you for an assignment, and it's still your case. Go to Brazil and escort my son home. Judging by his cablegram, he's in some kind of trouble. Get him out of it, even if it's only an unpaid hotel bill.”

Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That's okay by us, sir. But before we leave for Belem, we would like to talk with Mrs. Retson.”

The tycoon frowned. “Ordinarily I'd say no. But this new information about Graham is sure to cheer her up. Only make it short. I won't rest till I know you're on the plane to Brazil.”

When Frank and Joe appeared at Mrs. Retson's apartment, Miss Hopkins greeted them in stony silence. Had she told Retson about the incident the night before? Did she think the Hardys had? Her face showed nothing. She swung the door open and invited them in with a wave of her hand.

Mrs. Retson was sitting in an armchair, a shawl over her shoulders and a blanket across her knees. Her head was tilted to one side and her eyes were half-closed. She seemed completely listless.

Frank suspected the woman was under sedation.

“Mrs. Retson, we've come to ask you a few questions,” Frank said.

The woman opened her eyes. “Questions? What kind of questions?”

“Well, we saw a woman at the waterfall last night. She resembled you!”

“It wasn't me!” Mrs. Retson shuddered as she spoke and averted her eyes.

“This woman later climbed up a rope ladder to your room,” Joe went on. “Who else could it have been?”

Mrs. Retson's voice rose to a shrill pitch. “I don't know! I don't know! You must have made a mistake in the darkness.”

“There was a full moon last night,” Frank stated. “It lighted up the whole area of the waterfall.”

“That explains what happened,” she cried. “People often have delusions at the falls, especially under a full moon! You boys imagined you saw a woman.”

Joe picked up a flimsy scarf from an easy chair. From his pocket he pulled the fragment of material he had found the previous night, and fitted it into a tear in the scarf. It matched perfectly.

Mrs. Retson seemed terror stricken at the sight. When Joe explained where the piece had come from, she slumped into unconsciousness.

“She's fainted!” Frank exclaimed. He began chafing her wrists while Joe massaged the back of her neck. Miss Hopkins came in quickly and held a glass of water to her lips.

Mrs. Retson began to moan. She opened her eyes and gazed in bewilderment. After sipping a
little water, she sat up. Joe adjusted the shawl, which had slipped down.

The nurse broke the silence. “That's enough. Mrs. Retson isn't strong enough to be badgered like this. Do your investigating somewhere else!”

“We'll be leaving here soon,” Joe promised. “We're going to Brazil to bring Graham home.”

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Retson raised a hand and cried out, “No! No! Graham is not in Brazil. He's right here!”

Startled, Frank begged her to explain herself. But she merely gave a knowing smile and refused to say another word.

Frank and Joe left the apartment, expecting the nurse to slam the door behind them. Instead, Miss Hopkins joined them in the hall.

“You must be mystified by Mrs. Retson's remark,” she said.

“That's putting it mildly,” Joe replied.

Frank nodded in agreement. “What could she possibly have meant about Graham being right here?”

“She believes in extrasensory perception and psychic phenomena,” Miss Hopkins explained. “She thinks a person can be in two places at once.”

“So that's it,” Frank said. “Thanks for telling us.”

The boys went outside. Walking away from the mansion, they glanced back and looked up at Mrs Retson's apartment. They saw a face in the window.
The woman herself was staring down at them with a pleading expression.

“I really feel sorry for her,” Joe said. “She must be mentally ill. That explains her going down to the waterfall last night and calling Graham!”

The boys returned to the guesthouse. Chet Morton was there, and half an hour later Phil and Tony arrived. They had come to join Chet in the business of retrieving golf balls from the Granite City golf courses. The five discussed the latest events.

“So Joe and I will go to Brazil,” Frank concluded. “Meanwhile, it would be a good idea if you guys could keep an eye on the Retson estate.”

“How?” Chet asked. “You can't do it with a place this size from outside!”

“Maybe Retson will let you stay here. During part of the time you can scavenge golf balls, and when you're not busy, you can keep track of what's going on.”

“Sounds good,” Chet said with a grin. “It would save us money, too. Let's go see the big man.”

The industrialist appeared gratified to know he could count on Chet, Phil, and Tony. “It'll be nice to have you fellows on the premises,” he said. “Mrs. Retson will feel much safer if we have muscular reinforcements as near as the guesthouse. Not that I think anything will happen,” he added.

Frank and Joe made plane reservations, then said good-by to their pals and drove back to Bayport to get ready for the flight to Brazil. Their mother made lunch, then helped them pack their belongings. Laura Hardy always made sure the detectives in the family were properly equipped.

“I do hope you won't be gone long,” she said.

“Not too long, Mom,” Frank assured her. “It shouldn't take more than a few days.”

“That's long enough to get caught by a boa constrictor or eaten by piranhas,” came the voice of Aunt Gertrude, who had stepped into the boys' bedroom. “You'll probably get lost in the Amazon rain forest where the jaguars will take a bite out of you. Or the natives might nick you with their poison arrows.”

“Aunt Gertrude, we're only going to Belem,” Joe reminded her. “It's a modern city!”

“Anything can happen down there,” Miss Hardy said sharply. “You boys had better look before you leap. Don't say I didn't warn you.”

That evening Frank and Joe caught a connecting flight to New York. At Kennedy Airport they transferred to the jet to Brazil, and an hour later they were thundering through the air headed south.

The Hardys had the first two seats in their row. The window seat was occupied by a black-haired Brazilian in his early forties who spoke excellent English. He introduced himself in a friendly manner. “We will be on this plane for quite some time so we might as well get to know one another. My name is Joachim San Marten.”

Mrs. Retson was staring down at them

Frank introduced himself and his brother. “What kind of a city is Belem?” Joe asked their new acquaintance.

“Very romantic,” San Marten replied. “It is at the mouth of the Amazon, and has buildings dating back to colonial times. Do not miss the Ver-O-Peso market. But remember that the Portuguese name means Watch-the-Weight. That's a wise rule to follow.” He laughed.

Further conversation revealed that San Marten was a trader in wild animals.

“Zoos are always in the market for the snakes and big cats of the Amazon basin,” he told the boys. “I buy them from the natives and ship them around the world. You have no doubt seen some of my animals in the United States. And why are you two gentlemen going to Belem?”

Frank said, “We're on our way to meet a friend in the city.”

“Frank's afraid I'll spill the beans again,” Joe thought and remained silent.

“Do you have good accommodations?”

“We are going to stay at the Excelsior Grao Para,” Frank replied.

“Oh?” San Marten looked doubtful.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing. It's just that this hotel has not the
best reputation. It is said to be run by gangsters.”

Frank grinned. “We'll watch out for the mob.”

San Marten nodded. “Please remember, if I can be of any assistance, do not hesitate to call on me.” He handed Frank his card.

“Thanks,” Frank said. Then all three settled back in their seats for a snooze.

Hours later, in bright morning sunlight, the jetliner descended, and prepared for its landing at Belem. Through the window the boys could see the city. A riot of color was reflected from red, green, and yellow tiled roofs. Small craft and freighters rocked gently in the harbor.

When they left the plane, the Hardys noticed San Marten waiting for a large crate that was being taken from the cargo compartment. It was covered by a tarpaulin.

“I wonder if one of our friend's dangerous animals is in there,” said Joe.

“I suppose so,” Frank replied. “Maybe he's brought back an American cougar for the Belem zoo.”

After they were finished with the formalities at passport control and had claimed their baggage, they caught a taxi and soon arrived at the Excelsior Grao Para, which turned out to be a rather small hotel.

The desk clerk informed them that Mr. Graham had checked out of his room.

“What? He's left?” Joe asked.

“Yes, sir. Mr. Graham has departed.”

“Where did he go?” Frank asked.

“He left no forwarding address.”

“That's funny,” Frank said, puzzled.

“Maybe he left a message for us in his room,” Joe suggested. “Mind if we have a look?”

The clerk shrugged. “It's empty, so go ahead. Number 225. I think it's open.”

Frank and Joe left their bags at the desk, took the elevator upstairs, and found the room. It was open and the key was in the lock. They walked inside.

“Let's give it a thorough once-over,” Frank said.

They checked the dressers, the desk, and night table. Nothing. Frank searched the wastebasket but found no clues. Joe opened the closet. “Hey, here's something!” he said.

Joe brought out a leather jacket. It bore a label from a Granite City store. Methodically he searched the pockets. In one of them was a cigarette lighter.

“Look at this,” Joe said. Out of curiosity he flipped the top open.

A sharp needle sprang out from a hidden trap.

It pierced Joe's thumb. He staggered back with a cry, went rigid for a split second, and then toppled over, unconscious!

CHAPTER VI
Underground Voodoo

F
RANK
rushed over to where his brother lay on the floor. “Joe, what happened?”

Joe made no reply. His eyes were closed, and his face was pale. He breathed heavily as if gasping for air.

“I've got to get a doctor fast,” Frank thought desperately. He went to the door, twisted the old-fashioned knob, and jerked hard. It did not budge! He tried shouting for help, but nobody heard him.

Frank ran to the telephone beside the bed. The desk failed to answer. Frantically, Frank poked his head out the window. There was a fire escape, but his heart sank when he saw that the bottom part of the ladder had been removed, leaving a thirty-foot drop to the pavement. He would need a rope!

Frank pulled the sheets from the bed, tore them into strips, and knotted the pieces together. Then he started to climb out the window.

Suddenly a click at the door caused him to turn around. “Hello?”

The door opened and San Marten stepped in. He looked in amazement at the torn sheets in Frank's hands and at Joe lying unconscious on the floor.

“What's going on here?” he asked.

“Quick, I need a doctor for Joe,” Frank said “He's been poisoned.”

San Marten ran to the phone. The desk answered and he called for the hotel physician.

While they waited, Frank asked, “How did you get in here, and why did you come?”

“The key was on the other side and the door unlocked,” San Marten replied. “I was in the neighborhood and decided you might need some help in a strange city. The clerk told me you were up here. How was your brother poisoned?”

Just then the doctor hastened in. He set down his bag and kneeled beside Joe. After feeling the boy's pulse, he asked, “What caused it?”

Frank indicated the lighter. The doctor examined it closely. Then he pulled a syringe out of his bag and gave Joe an injection.

“The young man will be all right,” he said. “But he could not have lasted much longer. He is suffering from a powerful poison. Fortunately he
has a strong heart or he would be dead by now!”

“This seems to be a fiendish plot!” San Marten declared. “You will have to take precautions.”

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