The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (146 page)

“Well, I brought Mr. Parker here and gave him a room. Right off I noticed how queer he acted. He didn’t seem to be sure who he was, and he kept going through some papers he carried in a portfolio, trying to puzzle things out.”

“All this while you made no attempt to contact police?” Mr. Deming questioned severely.

“I was wondering what to do when I saw a picture of Mr. Parker in the paper.”

“And then you dropped an unsigned letter in my mailbox?” Penny probed.

Mrs. Botts knew that the net was closing tightly about her. Although she tried to slant her story in such a way that she would not appear too much at fault, the facts remained bald and ugly.

“Yes, I left a note at your house,” she acknowledged reluctantly. “Later I telephoned and made an appointment to meet you at the cemetery.”

“Why didn’t you go through with it?” asked Penny. “Were you afraid?”

“I began to realize I might be held for something I never intended to do. Folks started to watch this house. I tried to keep my roomer out of sight, but he’d do such queer things.”

“Such as stroll in the garden at night,” supplied Penny.

“Yes, I felt sorry for the poor man. He had such dreadful headaches and was so bewildered.”

“Evidently you weren’t sorry enough to tell him who he was,” reprimanded Mr. Deming. “Really Mrs. Botts, I can’t understand why you acted as you did.”

“I just kept getting in deeper and deeper,” the housekeeper whined. “Mr. Parker paid me three dollars a day for his room and board. It didn’t seem wrong to take the money as long as he was satisfied.”

“Where is my father now?” Penny broke in. “That’s the important thing.”

Mrs. Botts regarded the girl with a trace of her former arrogance. “I don’t know what became of Mr. Parker after he left here,” she said coldly.

“You sent him away when you knew Mr. Deming was coming home!” Penny accused. “You thought you could keep the truth from your employer!”

“And I would have too, if it hadn’t been for you!”Mrs. Botts flared. “I’ve not done any harm, but you’ve made a lot out of it, and now I’ll be discharged.”

“You are quite right about that,” agreed Mr. Deming in a quiet voice. “However, there’s far more at stake than a job, Mrs. Botts. Even now you don’t seem to realize the seriousness of your offense.”

“You won’t turn me over to the police, will you, Mr. Deming?”

“It will not be in my hands to decide your fate. I strongly advise you to tell everything you know. Where did Mr. Parker go when he left here?”

“I’ve no idea.” Mrs. Botts covered her face. “Oh, leave me alone—don’t ask me any more questions. My head buzzes.”

“A taxicab with two men in it was seen at the door earlier this evening,” Penny went on relentlessly. “What have you to say about that?”

“They were friends who came for Mr. Parker.”

“Your friends?”

“Well, no, I found the names and addresses in Mr. Parker’s brief case. They were men in the tire business.”

This latest scrap of information fairly stunned Penny. As she well knew, her father’s portfolio contained only evidence pertaining to the tire-theft case.

“Who were the men?” she demanded.

“One was named Kurt Mollinberg—Ropes Mollinberg his friend called him. I forget the other.”

“Ropes Mollinberg!” exclaimed Salt Sommers who had listened quietly to the story. “Why, he’s one of the lowest rats in this town! Connected with the numbers racket and I don’t know what else!”

“Why did you summon those men, of all persons?”Mr. Deming questioned.

“Well, I found their addresses in the portfolio. I had to get rid of Mr. Parker before you came and I was afraid to call his house.”

“You’re a cruel, heartless woman!” accused Penny. “You sent my father away with two of the most notorious rascals in Riverview. Why, those men have been waiting for a chance to waylay him! They wanted to get possession of vital evidence Dad had in his portfolio.”

“I didn’t know,” murmured Mrs. Botts. “When they came in the taxi, they offered me money.”

“And you took it?”

“I tried not to, but they forced it on me.”

Penny sprang to her feet. Only by the greatest effort of will could she keep from telling the housekeeper what she thought of her contemptible actions.

“You sent Dad away with those men,” she repeated mechanically. “Didn’t he realize who they were?”

“I told him they were his friends. I really thought so. He went willingly enough.”

Penny was sick with despair. From the first, the situation had been grave, but now there seemed little hope. From Mrs. Botts’ story she could only conclude that her father suffered from a brain injury. Even if she were fortunate enough to find him, he would not be likely to recognize her as his daughter.

“Oh, Salt,” she pleaded, turning to the photographer. “What are we to do? What can we do?”

His reply though prompt, was not completely reassuring.

“We’ve already put every policeman in Riverview on the trail of those men!” he answered soberly. “And we’ll scour every nook and cranny of this town ourselves! Chin up, Penny! Why, we’ve only started to fight!”

CHAPTER 22

A PARK BENCH

Penny and her friends were heartsick with the knowledge that Mr. Parker had fallen into the hands of ruthless members of the tire-theft gang. The taxi which had borne him away had left the mansion fully an hour earlier. There seemed little likelihood that the trail could be picked up quickly.

“I’ll telephone the boys at the newspaper office,”Salt offered. “The police too! We’ll put a description on the radio. We’ll have everybody in Riverview watching for that yellow taxi.”

“Call the cab companies too,” urged Penny. “We may be able to trace it through the driver.”

Salt made good use of the Deming telephone which had not been disconnected during the winter months. While he phoned, Penny ran outside to find the policeman assigned to guard the mansion. She soon returned with him and placed Mrs. Botts in his custody.

“Oh, Mr. Deming, don’t let them take me to jail,” the housekeeper pleaded. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“Mrs. Botts, I can’t help you,” her employer returned coldly. “Your offense is a very serious one. The court must decide your fate.”

The housekeeper broke into tears again and for several minutes was quite hysterical. When her act moved no one, she resigned herself to the inevitable. Packing a few articles in a bag, she prepared to leave the house in the custody of the policeman.

“I’m sorry about everything,” she said as she bade the girls goodbye. “I hope Mr. Parker is found. I really do.”

After Mrs. Botts had gone, Penny was too upset to remain quietly in a chair. She longed to join in an active search for the yellow taxi. Common sense told her that the cab undoubtedly had reached its destination, yet she hoped she might pick up a clue.

“By questioning filling station attendants, we may be able to learn which way it went from the crossroads,” she urged.

“Come on, then,” said Salt.

Joe, faithful as ever, waited in his cab outside the mansion. Penny chose to ride beside him, as the front seat offered an unobstructed view of the road.

The cab turned away from the mansion and swept down the familiar twisting highway. At the first bend, the bright headlights illuminated a patch of snow along the ditch. Penny thought she saw a small, dark object lying on the ground.

“Stop the car!” she cried.

Joe brought the cab to a standstill a little farther down the road.

Penny leaped out and ran back to the ditch. Lying just at its edge was a leather portfolio. A glance satisfied her that it had belonged to her father.

“Salt! Louise!” she shouted. “I’ve found Dad’s satchel!”

The others came running. By that time Penny had examined the portfolio. It was empty.

“Just as I thought,” she muttered. “Those men were after the evidence Dad carried! And they got it, too!”

Salt and Joe examined the snowy ditches for a long distance. There were no footprints. They could only conclude that the portfolio had been thrown from a window of the moving cab. Evidently Mr. Parker remained a prisoner.

“Now that those men have what they want, maybe they’ll release Dad,” Penny said hopefully. “Don’t you think so, Salt?”

The photographer glanced at Joe. Neither spoke.

“You believe they’ll harm Dad!” Penny cried, reading their faces. “Maybe I’ll never see him again—”

“Now Penny,” Salt soothed, guiding her toward the taxi.

The cab rolled on, its tires crunching the hard-packed snow. At the crossroads, they met a police car and hailed it. Penny turned the empty portfolio over to one of the officers, explaining where it had been found.

“Every road is being watched,” she was told in return. “The alarm has been broadcast throughout the State, too. If that yellow cab still is on the road, we’ll get it.”

For an hour longer, Penny and her party scoured roads in the vicinity of Riverview. Many times they stopped at filling stations and houses to inquire if a yellow cab had been seen to pass. Always the answer was in the negative.

“Don’t you think we ought to go home?” Salt suggested at length. “For all we know, police may have found Mr. Parker by this time. We’d never learn about it while we’re touring around.”

“All right, let’s go home,” agreed Penny.

The taxi turned toward Riverview. Arriving at the outskirts, Joe chose a boulevard which wound through the park. The trees, each limb and twig glistening with ice, were very beautiful.

Penny gazed absently toward the frozen lake where a few boys were skating. Suddenly her gaze fastened upon a man who sat on a park bench beneath a street lamp. He wore no hat. His overcoat was unbuttoned.

“That man!” she cried. “Salt, it looks like Dad! And it is he! It is!”

The man on the bench had turned slightly so that she was able to see his face.

Joe brought the cab to a halt with a jerk. Penny leaped out, followed by the others. The first to reach the bench, she fairly flung herself headlong at the disheveled man who sat so dejectedly alone.

“Oh, Dad, I’ve found you at last! How thankful I am you’re safe!”

The man on the bench stared blankly at her.

“Who are you?” he asked in a dazed voice.

“Why, I’m Penny—your daughter.”

“I have no daughter,” the man answered bitterly. “No home. Nothing. Not even a name.”

Salt, Louise and Joe reached the bench.

“Who are these people?” the man asked. “Why do they stare at me?”

“Why, Mr. Parker,” said Salt, taking his arm. “You remember me, don’t you?”

“Never saw you before in my life.”

“You’re my father—Anthony Parker,” Penny said desperately. “You were in a bad accident. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember that I was taken by two men in a taxicab. They pretended to be my friends. As soon as we were well away from Mrs. Botts’ home, they robbed me of my money and portfolio. Then they pushed me out of the cab. I started walking. I kept on until I came here.”

“You’re cold and tired,” said Salt, trying to guide him toward the taxi.

“Who are you?” Mr. Parker demanded suspiciously. “Why should I let you take me away? You’ll only try to rob me—”

“Oh, Dad, you don’t understand,” Penny murmured. “You’re sick.”

“Come along, sir,” urged Salt. “We’re your friends. We’ll take you to the doctor.”

Mr. Parker planted his feet firmly on the ground.

“I’m not going a step!” he announced. “Not a step!”

“Sorry, sir, but if you’re so set about it, we’ll have to do it this way.”

Salt nodded to Joe. Before Mr. Parker knew what was coming, they caught him firmly by the arms and legs. Although he resisted, they carried him to the cab.

“Take us home as fast as you can!” Penny directed Joe. “Then I’ll want you to go for Doctor Greer, the brain specialist. Dad’s in very serious condition.”

“Serious, my eye!” snorted the publisher. He struggled to free himself from Salt’s grip. “Let me out of here!”

“Dad, everything will be all right now,” Penny tried to soothe him. “You’re with friends. You’re going home.”

“I’m being kidnaped!” Mr. Parker complained. “Twice in one night! If I were strong enough to get out of here—”

Again he tried to free himself. Failing, he edged into a corner of the seat and averted his face.

CHAPTER 23

FORGOTTEN EVENTS

In the upstairs bedroom, Penny moved with velvet tread. Noiselessly she rearranged a vase of flowers and closed the slat of a Venetian blind.

“You needn’t be so quiet,” said Mr. Parker from the bed. “I’ve been awake a long time now.”

Penny went swiftly to his side. “How are you feeling this afternoon, Dad?”

“Afternoon?” Mr. Parker demanded, sitting up. “How long have I been sleeping?”