The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (52 page)

“Well—” The housekeeper looked ill at ease. “He may have heard me talking with Mrs. Hodges. I remember he passed through the hall while we were together.”

“What day was that?” inquired Penny.

“Yesterday. After the séance. But I can’t believe that Mr. Gepper would try to steal the money. I just can’t!”

“From what Penny has told me of the man, I should judge that he is a schemer,” contributed Mr. Parker. “You know the
Star
has started a vigorous campaign directed against such mediums as Al Gepper.”

“But he told me such remarkable things about Cousin David,” protested Mrs. Weems. “Facts which couldn’t be faked.”

“Oh, Gepper doesn’t make many false moves,” acknowledged Penny. “He’s a smooth worker. All the same, he’s a fake.”

“How could he have faked Cousin David’s message? You forget we actually saw the picture of my relative painted without the aid of a human hand.”

“Did the picture closely resemble your cousin?” inquired Mr. Parker.

“Oh, yes, indeed. It looked exactly as I saw him many years ago.”

“Isn’t that rather odd?” demanded Penny. “One would expect Cousin David to age a little.”

“Penny believes that a photographer’s agent who came here a few days ago was sent by Gepper to obtain a picture of your relative,” explained Mr. Parker. “Did the man ask you many questions about your cousin?”

“Well, yes, he did,” Mrs. Weems admitted unwillingly. “I made a mistake giving him the photograph.”

“It seems fairly evident that the picture was used by Gepper,” Mr. Parker commented. “Whether he plotted to steal your money remains to be proven. Penny, you saw the man plainly?”

“No, I didn’t, Dad. Not his face. He was about the same build as Gepper.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

“From the first Gepper was determined to get Mrs. Weems’ money, Dad. He sent a man here who pretended to be from the Bierkamp Investment Company.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” said Mrs. Weems.

“Well, no I didn’t. I was afraid you would invest your money with him, so I drove the man away. He must have been Gepper’s accomplice. Failing to acquire the money by that means, he plotted the burglary.”

“Surely you don’t agree with Penny?” the housekeeper asked Mr. Parker unhappily.

“In general, I am afraid I do. Mr. Gepper is an undesirable character, and I should like nothing better than to send him to jail.”

“Come upstairs, Mrs. Weems,” urged Penny. “I’ll show you the desk.”

Both the housekeeper and Mr. Parker followed her to the second floor. An examination of the bedroom disclosed no additional clues, but after studying the marks on the window ledge, the publisher favored Penny’s theory that a silk ladder had been utilized.

“It was unwise of me to keep my money here,”Mrs. Weems remarked in a crestfallen tone. “I—I’ve been silly about everything, I guess.”

Penny gave her a quick hug. “No, you haven’t. Anyone might have been taken in by Al Gepper.”

“I shall never attend another of his séances. I’ll urge Mrs. Hodges to turn him from her house.”

“Mrs. Weems, are you willing to help get evidence against him?” asked Mr. Parker abruptly.

“Why, yes, if I can.”

“Then go to the Hodges’ exactly as you have in the past,” instructed the publisher. “Penny has been warned by Gepper not to attend any of the séances, but you’ll still be welcome. Learn everything you can and report to me.”

“I’ll be glad to do it, Mr. Parker.”

“Don’t allow him to guess that you have become suspicious. Above all, never withdraw your money from the bank at his suggestion.”

“You may be sure I won’t. This has taught me a bitter lesson.”

“Haven’t you an assignment for me, Dad?” inquired Penny. “How about Kano’s Curio Shop?”

“Early tomorrow I’ll send Jerry there to question the old Jap.”

“Will you notify the police?”

“Not for the present. If we can crack this story I’d like to get it ahead of the
Record
.”

“I wish you would send me to Kano’s instead of Jerry.”

“Dorr Street is no place for you, Penny,” Mr. Parker replied, dismissing the matter. “Shall we get to bed now? It’s nearly midnight.”

After the doors had been locked once more Penny went to her room, but she did not immediately fall asleep. Instead, she kept mulling over the events of the night. The more she thought about it the more firmly she became convinced that both the Kohl home and her own had been entered by the same person.

“The telephone was ringing when I came from the movie,” she recalled. “Now I wonder who called? It may have been a trick of the thief to learn if anyone were in the house. When no one answered, the assumption would be that the coast was clear.”

Penny felt rather well satisfied with the way matters had developed. In one bold stroke she had saved Mrs. Weems’ inheritance, convinced the housekeeper that Al Gepper was not to be trusted, and had made definite progress in gaining evidence to be used in her father’s campaign against the charlatan invaders of Riverview. Yet it annoyed her that the story, now that it had reached an active stage, was to be turned over to Jerry.

“I have a notion to visit the Kano Curio Shop ahead of him,” she thought. “That’s exactly what I’ll do!”

Having made up her mind, she rolled over and promptly fell asleep.

In the morning Penny ate breakfast and wiped the dishes with a speed which astonished Mrs. Weems. Shortly after her father left for the office, she backed her own maroon car from the garage, and offering only a vague explanation, departed for Kano’s Curio Shop.

Dorr Street was quite deserted at such an early hour, and the Japanese shop owner had just unlocked his doors. He was sweeping the floor as Penny boldly entered.

“Good morning, Mr. Kano,” she greeted him. “You remember me, I believe?”

Mr. Kano bowed, regarding her warily. “Yes,” he replied. “You are the young lady whose curiosity is very large.”

Penny smiled. “You are right, Mr. Kano. It is very large, especially about a certain silken ladder.”

Mr. Kano frowned as he leaned on his broom. “I am very sorry,” he said. “I am a merchant, not one who answers what you call the quiz-bee.”

Penny understood that the Japanese never would tell her what she wished to know save under compulsion. She decided to adopt firm tactics.

“Mr. Kano,” she said, “my father is the owner of the
Riverview Star
and he intends to expose certain crooks who have been robbing wealthy persons such as the Kohls. You read in the paper that their home was entered?”

“Yes, I read,” the Japanese shrugged.

“My own theory is that the thief gained entrance by means of a silk ladder,” Penny declared. “
A ladder made in this shop!
”

The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed. “I know nothing,” he replied. “Nothing. You go now, please.”

“If I go,” said Penny, “I’ll return with the police. You would not like that, I take it?” Her voice was crisp and full of menace.

Mr. Kano lost some of his poise. “No!” he answered sharply. “I am an honest man and want no sad trouble with the police.”

Chancing to glance toward the street, Penny observed Jerry Livingston standing on the opposite corner. He was gazing thoughtfully toward the Curio Shop, and she knew that he must have been sent by her father to interview Mr. Kano. Inspired, she turned again to the old Japanese.

“You see that young man yonder?” she asked, indicating Jerry. “I have but to summon him and he’ll come here.”

“Detective?” demanded Mr. Kano, peering anxiously through the window. “Do not call him! I am an honest man. I will answer your questions.”

“Then tell me about the silken ladder.”

“I know little,” the shopkeeper insisted. “I made the rope for a man who said: ‘Do this or we will burn your shop down, Mr. Kano.’ So I made the ladder and he paid me well for fashioning it.”

“And what was the man’s name?”

“His name I do not know. But his eyes were small and evil. His skin was dark, his nose crooked.”

Mr. Kano ceased speaking with an abruptness which caused Penny to glance toward the door. Her first thought was that Jerry had entered. Instead a strange young man stood there, regarding her suspiciously.

As she stared at him he quickly retreated, but not before she had caught a fleeting impression of a face which matched Mr. Kano’s description with startling accuracy.

“Was he the one?” she demanded as the door slammed. “The man for whom you made the ladder?”

“No, no!” denied the Japanese.

His words failed to convince Penny. Darting to the door, she saw that the young man already was far down the street, walking rapidly.

“He is the one,” she thought. “I’ll follow him.”

“Wait,” called the Japanese as she started away, “I have more to tell you.”

It was a ruse to detain her, Penny knew. Pushing past the shopkeeper who sought to bar the exit, she reached the street and ran toward Jerry Livingston.

“Why, Penny!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing in this part of town?”

“Never mind that,” she answered hastily. “If you’re after a story, come along with me. We’re trailing the man who just left Kano’s Shop.”

CHAPTER 18

THE BELL TOWER

Jerry fell into step with Penny. As they walked along, she told him of her conversation with Mr. Kano.

“I believe this man we’re following is the same one who entered our house last night,” she declared. “He’s the same build as the fellow I grabbed. Besides, he fits Kano’s description of the person who bought the silken ladder.”

“Here’s hoping you’re right,” replied Jerry. “If I muff this assignment, I may wake up looking for another job.”

Fearing that the man ahead would discover he was being followed, Jerry and Penny dropped farther and farther behind. Presently they saw him enter a pawnshop.

“I know that place,” commented Jerry. “It’s run by Spike Weiser, a notorious
fence
. He buys stolen goods and gets rid of it at a profit. Has a swell home on Clarmont Drive.”

“Why don’t the police arrest him?”

“Oh, they watch the place, but Spike is too smart to be caught. He has a system for handling
hot
goods.”

“I’ll venture some of the Kohl loot was sold through him, Jerry.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. But if the police search the place they won’t find a thing.”

Loitering on the opposite side of the street, Penny and the reporter kept close watch of the pawnbroker’s shop. Thirty minutes elapsed. The man whom they had trailed, did not reappear.

“He must have slipped out the back door,” Jerry remarked. “Probably knew he was being watched.”

“I’m beginning to think so myself.”

Jerry glanced at his watch. “I can’t take any more time,” he said. “I’ll have to get back to the office.”

“I’ll watch a few minutes longer,” answered Penny. “If anything develops I’ll try to telephone.”

Jerry walked hurriedly away. Scarcely had he disappeared when the door of the pawnshop opened, and the young man who had entered a half hour earlier, appeared. Penny hastily moved back into the vestibule of an office building.

Without observing her, the stranger crossed the street and walked briskly toward an intersecting boulevard. There was no opportunity for Penny to telephone the
Star
office. Following, she was hard pressed to keep the man within view.

Not until they reached the entrance of Butternut Lane did it dawn upon her that the Celestial Temple might be their destination. Then, indeed, her pulse stepped up a pace.

“It’s exactly as I guessed!” she thought triumphantly. “He’s connected with Al Gepper and the other mediums!”

Not wishing to attract attention in the deserted lane, Penny took a short cut through the cemetery, emerging at the rear of the Celestial Temple. There was no door on that side of the building but a window had been left raised. Placed beneath it, as if for her particular convenience, was a large rock.

Penny stood on it, peering into the Temple. The room was unoccupied. However, as she waited, the same man she had trailed, quietly let himself in through the front entrance, using a key. He glanced about and called in a low voice: “Pete! Pete! Anyone here?”

There was no answer, which seemed to please the young man. He moved quickly down the aisle, crossed the platform to a door which opened into the bell tower. Kneeling he began to fit keys into the lock, seeking one which would serve.

As Penny watched, the young man suddenly straightened. Apparently he had heard footsteps in the vestibule for he moved away from the bell tower door.

A middle-aged woman with dyed hair and a skin of unusual pallor entered the Temple. She stopped short as she saw the young man.

“You here, Slippery?” she commented, gazing at him with distrust. “Where’s Pete?”