The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (122 page)

“This is the place,” said Penny, pausing before the familiar building. “Why, what’s become of the cafe?”

Bewildered, she stared at the doorway where the painted parrot sign had swung. It was no longer there and the Venetian blinds had been removed from the window.

“This place doesn’t have the appearance of a cafe,” said Mr. Parker. “Are you sure you have the correct address, Penny?”

“Why, yes, I know we came here last night. But the sign has been removed.”

Descending the stone steps, Penny pressed her face against the uncovered windows. Only a large, empty room confronted her astonished gaze. All of the tables and chairs had been removed, even the palm trees and decorations.

“It’s deserted, Dad!” she exclaimed.

Mr. Parker came down the steps to peer through a window. Bits of colored paper and menu cards still littered the floor. Testing the door, he found it locked.

“This certainly is strange,” he remarked thoughtfully. “Let’s inquire next door.”

Penny and her father chose to enter a bakery which adjoined the building. A stout woman in a white apron, who was arranging frosted cakes in a showcase, favored them with a professional smile.

“Good morning,” Mr. Parker greeted her, removing his hat. “Can you tell me what has become of the cafe next door?”

“Are you from the police?” the woman asked quickly.

“No, I’m connected with the
Star
.”

“Oh, a reporter!” assumed the woman, and Mr. Parker did not correct her. “I thought maybe you were from the police. Yesterday I saw a man watching The Green Parrot and I said to my husband, Gus,‘The cops are going to raid that place.’”

“And did they?” interposed Mr. Parker.

“Not that I know of. The outfit just moved out. And a queer time to be doing it too, if you ask me!”

“When did they leave?”

“The van pulled up there about two o’clock last night. They were loading stuff in until almost dawn.”

“Can you tell me where they went or why they moved out?”

“No, I can’t,” the woman replied with a shrug. “Like as not they were afraid the police were going to raid ’em. I’m telling you that place deserved to be closed up.”

“Just what went on there?”

“I never was inside the place, but some mighty queer acting people seemed to be running it. Why, I’ve seen men go in and out of there at four o’clock of a morning, hours after the cafe closed up.”

“Foreigners?”

“I couldn’t rightly say as to that. My husband, Gus, thinks a lot of gambling went on. Anyway, I’m glad the outfit’s gone.”

Unable to learn more, Penny and her father left the bakery and walked toward their parked car. The information they had gained was not likely to prove very helpful. Obviously, The Green Parrot had closed its doors, fearing an investigation. Whether it had moved elsewhere or gone out of existence, they could not know.

“The call that Jerry, Louise and I paid there last night may have had something to do with it,” Penny remarked. “I know the head waiter was eager to be rid of us.”

As Mr. Parker and his daughter walked slowly along, several persons ran past them toward an alley. Approaching its entranceway, they saw that a throng of people had gathered not far from the rear exit of The Green Parrot.

“Wonder what’s wrong back there?” speculated Mr. Parker, pausing. “Probably an accident of some sort.”

“Let’s find out,” proposed Penny.

She and her father joined the group of excited men and women in the alley. They were startled to see a young man sprawled face downward on the brick pavement. A garbage collector jabbered excitedly that he had found the victim lying thus only a moment before.

Mr. Parker pushed through the circle of people. “Has anyone called an ambulance?” he asked.

“I’ll send for one, Mister,” offered a boy, hastening away.

Mr. Parker bent over the prone figure.

“He ain’t dead is he?” the garbage man asked anxiously.

“Unconscious,” replied the newspaper man, his fingers on the victim’s wrist. “A nasty head wound. I’d say he either fell or was struck from behind.”

Carefully Mr. Parker rolled over the limp figure. As he beheld the face, he stared and glanced quickly at Penny.

“Who is he, Dad?” she asked, and then she saw for herself.

The young man was Burt Ottman.

CHAPTER 14

TEST BLACKOUT

As Mr. Parker covered Burt Ottman with his overcoat, the young man stirred and opened his eyes. He gazed at the newspaper owner with a dazed expression and for a moment did not attempt to speak.

“Take it easy,” Mr. Parker advised.

“What happened to me?” the young man whispered.

“That’s what we’d like to know. Were you struck?”

“Don’t remember,” Ottman mumbled. He closed his eyes again, but aroused as he heard the shrill siren of an approaching ambulance. “Don’t let ’em take me to a hospital,” he pleaded. “Take me home.”

The ambulance drew up in the alley. Stretcher bearers carefully lifted the young man.

“I’m all right,” he insisted, trying to sit up. “Just take me home.”

“Where’s that?” asked one of the attendants.

Burt Ottman mumbled an address which was on a street not far from the boat dock he operated.

“We’ll take you to the hospital for a check up,” the young man was told. “Then if you’re okay, you’ll be released.”

Deeply interested in the case, Mr. Parker and Penny followed the ambulance to City Hospital. There, after an hour’s wait in the lobby they were told that Burt Ottman had suffered no severe injury. A minor head wound had been dressed, and he was to be released within a short while.

“What caused the accident?” Mr. Parker asked one of the nurses. “Did the young man say?”

“He couldn’t seem to remember what happened,” she replied. “At least he wouldn’t talk to the doctor about it.”

Overdue at the
Star
office, Mr. Parker could remain no longer. However, Penny, whose time was her own, loitered about the lobby for an hour and a half until Burt Ottman came down in the elevator. The young man’s head was bandaged and he walked with an unsteady step as he leaned on the arm of a nurse.

“I’ll call a taxi for you,” the young woman said. “You’re really in no condition to walk far, Mr. Ottman.”

Penny stepped forward to offer her services. Her father, knowing that she might have use for the car, had left it parked outside the hospital.

“I’ll be glad to take Mr. Ottman home,” she volunteered.

The young man protested that he did not wish to cause anyone inconvenience, but allowed himself to be guided to the waiting automobile.

As the car sped along toward the riverfront, Penny stole quick glances at Burt. He sat very still, his gaze on the pavement ahead. She half expected that he would offer an explanation of the accident, or at least ask a few questions, but he remained silent.

“You took rather a hard blow on the head,” she remarked, seeking to lead him into conversation.

Burt merely nodded.

“Dad and I were astonished to find you lying in the alley at the rear of The Green Parrot,” Penny went on. “Don’t you remember how you came to be there?”

“Mind’s a blank.”

“You must have been struck by someone,” Penny said, refusing to be discouraged. “Can’t you recall whom you were with just before the accident?”

“What is this, a third degree?” Burt asked, and only a faint, amused smile took the edge from his question.

“I’m sorry,” Penny apologized.

“It doesn’t matter what happened to me,” Burt said quietly. “I just don’t feel like talking about it—see?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to seem unappreciative,” the young man resumed. “Thanks for taking me home.”

“You’re very welcome, I’m sure,” Penny responded dryly.

The car drew up in front of the home where Burt and his sister lived. A pleasant, one-story cottage rather in need of paint, it was situated high on a bluff overlooking the river.

As Burt stiffly alighted from the car, the cottage door opened, and Sara came running to meet him.

“You’re hurt!” she cried anxiously. “Oh, Burt, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he answered, moving away from her encircling arms.

“But your head!”

“Your brother was hurt sometime last night,”Penny explained to Sara. “Just how, we don’t know. My father and I found him lying in an alley at the rear of The Green Parrot.”

“The Green Parrot—that night club!” Sara gazed at her brother in dismay. “Oh, Burt, I was afraid something like this would happen. Those dreadful men—”

“Now Sara,” he interrupted brusquely. “No theatricals, please. Everything’s all right.” Giving her cheek a playful pinch, he wobbled past her into the cottage.

Sara turned frightened eyes upon Penny. “Tell me exactly what happened,” she pleaded.

“I honestly don’t know, Sara. My father thought someone must have struck your brother from behind, but he’s not told us a thing.”

“I just knew something of the sort would happen,”Sara repeated nervously.

“What do you mean?” inquired Penny. “Does your brother have enemies who would harm him?”

“Burt’s been trying to find out who framed him in the bridge dynamiting. He won’t tell me much about it, but I know he’s been trailing down a few leads.”

“Isn’t that work for the police?”

“The police!” Sara retorted bitterly. “Their only interest is in piling up more evidence against Burt!”

“Your brother knows the identity of the saboteur?”

“He won’t tell me, but I think he does have an idea who blew up the bridge.”

Penny scarcely knew whether or not to accept Sara’s explanation of her brother’s activities. Unquestionably, the girl believed that he was innocent of all charges against him. For one not prejudiced in his favor, there were many factors to be considered. Why had Burt denied losing the leather billfold? And with whom had he kept the Tuesday night appointment at The Green Parrot?

“If your brother has any clue regarding the real saboteur, he should present his evidence to the police,”Penny advised Sara.

“He’ll never do that until he’s ready to appear in court. Not after the way the police treated him.”

Penny realized that nothing was to be gained by discussing the matter further with Sara. Offering a few polite remarks to the effect that she hoped Burt would soon recover completely from his injury, she drove away.

Later, in repeating the conversation to her father, she declared that she could not make up her mind regarding Burt Ottman’s guilt.

“The case does have interesting angles,” Mr. Parker acknowledged. “I talked to the Police Commissioner this morning about The Green Parrot. The place long has had a reputation for cheating customers, and lately it’s been under suspicion as a rendezvous for anti-American groups.”

“That would fit in with what the bakery woman told us. What became of The Green Parrot, Dad? Have the police been able to trace it to a new location?”

“Not yet. The cafe may not open up again, or if it does, under a new name.”

For two days Penny divided her time between school and the river. As the water remained too rough for safe sailing, she and Louise spent their spare hours painting and cleaning their boat. Upon several occasions they called at the Ottman Boat Dock. Burt never was there, but Sara assured them that her brother had completely recovered from his recent mishap.

“Did he never tell you how he was struck?” Penny inquired once.

“Never,” Sara returned. “I’ve given up talking to him about it.”

With the river high, the girls had no opportunity to visit Old Noah at his ark. However, Sara told them that she was quite certain Sheriff Anderson had not succeeded in getting rid of the old fellow and his animals.

“The ark is still anchored up Bug Run,” she laughed ruefully. “I know because a steady flow of blue bottles has been floating down here!”

“Do you always read the message?” Louise inquired.

“Not always,” Sara replied. “Frequently I do because they’re so crazy.”

Since his arrest and subsequent release from jail, Burt Ottman had seldom been seen at the boat dock. Harassed and overburdened, Sara endeavored to do the work of two people. She ran the motor launch, taking passengers up and down the river. She rented canoes and row boats, and looked after repair work which came to the shop. If she felt that her brother was shirking his duties, she gave no inkling of it to the girls.

“When does Burt’s trial come up?” Louise remarked to Penny late Thursday night as they walked home from the Public Library. “Next week, isn’t it?”

“Yes, the twenty-first,” her chum nodded. “From all I can gather, he’ll be convicted, too.”

“I feel sorry for Sara.”

“So do I,” agreed Penny. “At first I didn’t like her very well. Now I know her brusque manner doesn’t mean anything.”