Hugenay chuckled. “I like spirit in a boy,” he said. “However, it should stop short of utter rashness. I am not alone and — But why make threats? I have something to offer you for your co-operation. Help me, and I’ll help you.”
“Help me how?”
“The boy Harry whom you met at Bert Clock’s house. His father is in prison. I will enable you to prove he is innocent. I will take the paintings — you will get an innocent man out of jail. Surely you won’t refuse to do that?”
Jupiter thought furiously. Then he nodded. “All right, I’ll help if you’ll do that. But there’s one thing more you’ll have to do.”
“And what is that, my plump but clever young friend?”
Jupiter told him exactly what had happened to Bob and what the situation was — that he was supposed to be picked up by a van in less than half an hour to take him to the place where Mr. Jeeters and the others had Bob and Harry.
Hugenay uttered a few expressive words in French.
“Those idiots!” he said. “I did not think they would act so swiftly. I planned to get the pictures and be gone before they could do anything!”
“You knew about them?” Jupiter asked, puzzled.
“Certainly I knew about them. I know far more than you think. I have been in the city for two weeks, casting about for a clue. I have — certain methods. If you wish, you may assume that I have had the telephone wires of these individuals tapped and listened to all their secret conversations — however, I will not say yes or no to that. Obviously, though, there has been a change in plans today. We must foil those plans.
“Yes, boy, I will help you rescue your friends, then we will find those paintings, and by this time tomorrow I will be five thousand miles away. You must start by following instructions. At the proper time you must be waiting outside for the van. Get in and go with the driver. I and my men will follow behind, discreetly. Leave the rest to me. The less you know, the better — ”
Realizing that he had to trust Hugenay, Jupiter eased out through Green Gate One and went back to his home. He was beginning to be a little sorry he’d ever thought of investigating a screaming clock, but it was too late to change things. Anyway, he knew that Hugenay was very clever and resourceful, and he felt sure that the Frenchman could outwit Mr. Jeeters and Jerry and Carlos.
Jupiter entered the house, where his aunt and uncle were watching television. He told them Bob had phoned and wanted to see him. They readily gave him permission to spend the night with Bob, and Jupe went up to his room. He put on a warm jacket and thrust the messages into the inside pocket.
Downstairs, he said good night to his aunt and uncle and then walked out to stand in front of the main gates of the salvage yard.
Hugenay was waiting there for him. He came over and put his hand on Jupiter’s shoulder and spoke earnestly.
“Don’t forget we’re working together now,” he said. “First we have to get Bob and Harry free. When the van comes, get in and don’t give any sign you know I am following you. If in any way they get suspicious. I leave it to your cleverness to know what to say. Now I am leaving you.”
He faded away into the darkness. If he had a car waiting, Jupiter could not see it. Possibly it was hidden at the other end of the salvage yard. Jupiter waited. It was very quiet and dark here beyond the outskirts of town, and he shivered a little.
Headlights cut the darkness. A small van came slowly down the street. For a moment the headlights shone clearly on him. The van stopped. The door opened and the little man, Jerry, leaned out. “All right, kid, hop in!” he rasped. “And for your own sake, and your pals’, you’d better not be trying any tricks!”
“You have those messages with you, boy?” Carlos demanded.
“Yes, sir, I have them,” Jupiter said, sounding unusually meek and humble.
“That’s good,” Jerry muttered. “Because if—what is it, Carlos?” Carlos was staring into the rear-view mirror. “I think we’re being followed. There’s been a car behind us for the last couple of miles!”
“Followed!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed Jupiter, hard. “Kid, if you called the cops — ”
“No, sir, I didn’t!” Jupiter sounded frightened, and only part of it was acting. They had spotted Hugenay’s car, and the whole plan with Hugenay was in danger of failing.
“Then if it isn’t the police, who is it?” Carlos demanded. “Quick, answer me! Don’t stall or I’ll know you’re lying!”
“If we’re being followed,” Jupiter said rapidly, “it might be somebody else who wants the messages, too. Somebody stole the screaming clock yesterday. If it wasn’t you, that shows somebody else is interested, and that same person might have been watching my house and seen you pick me up. Naturally he’d want to know where I was I going.”
“That’s it!” Jerry exclaimed. “That clock — Harry told Jeeters all about it. I’ll bet the kid’s right. Someone else is trying to find the loot. Carlos, you’ve got to shake them.”
“Leave it to me,” Carlos said grimly. “There’s a freeway only a mile ahead and I’ll get on to it. Then let them try to follow!”
He maintained the same speed for another couple of minutes. Then, as they approached the freeway, he put on speed, dashed up an entry ramp, and a moment later was in the midst of a stream of fast-moving traffic heading towards Hollywood.
The freeways of Los Angeles and Hollywood are a great network of concrete highways which connect the city of Los Angeles and the surrounding territory. A tremendous number of cars stream along them all day and most of the night. Now they were on a six-lane highway, and all six lanes contained cars and trucks moving at great speed, Carlos stepped on the accelerator and began to cut in and out of the traffic. In a minute or two anyone following would be hopelessly lost among the cars and huge trucks Carlos, however, was not satisfied until he had been threading in and out of the dense traffic for ten minutes. Then he cut to the outer lane and swung sharply down an exit ramp.
He slowed as he hit the city street below them and watched the rear-view mirror intently. Apparently he was satisfied, for after a few moments he relaxed.
“Nobody followed us out of that exit,” he said. “If anyone was tailing us, we’ve lost them.”
As Carlos proceeded at a normal speed, Jupiter’s spirits sank steadily lower. He had been counting on Hugenay. Now Hugenay had lost them, and could be of no help.
The van turned into a driveway between two old houses. In the rear was a large, two-car garage. Carlos beeped the horn once, and one of the sliding doors went up. The van eased inside and the door went down again.
Carlos and Jerry climbed out, hustling Jupiter along. Jupiter saw Mr. Jeeters waiting for them, and behind him Bob and Harry, tied to chairs.
“Any trouble?” Mr. Jeeters asked. “You’re a little late.”
“Someone followed us,” Carlos reported. “We had to take time to throw them off the trail. The kid swears it wasn’t cops. May have been whoever stole the screaming clock yesterday Anyway, whoever it was, we lost them.”
“Good.” Mr. Jeeters fixed hard eyes on Jupiter. “I’m sure our young friend here is too smart to have been trying any tricks. All right, boy, now the messages. Let’s have them.”
Jupiter fumbled in his pocket. He brought out a piece of paper.
“Here’s the first message, Mr. Jeeters.”
Jeeters took it and read it. “I suggest you see the book. Yes, your friend already told us that one. What book does it mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, doesn’t the second message tell us?”
“Here it is, sir. You can see what it says.”.
“Humph! Only a room where
Jupiter was fumbling in his pocket when there was an unexpected interruption. With a great breaking of glass, the windows on each side of the garage crashed in. The shades flew up.
Seconds later a blue-uniformed man was climbing in through each window, each holding a large automatic pointed at Mr. Jeeters, Carlos and Jerry.
“Up with your hands!” the first policeman snapped. “Quick! No false moves!”
“The cops!” Jerry exclaimed. Carlos muttered something in Spanish whose meaning the boys did not know but could guess.
“Stand still! Put your hands up!” the second policeman ordered. “We have you covered from both sides.”
Slowly Jerry and Carlos put up their hands. Mr. Jeeters backed up until he was against the workbench and for a moment it seemed as if he was feeling for a weapon behind him. But the first policeman covered him with his gun.
“You, too!” he snapped. “You — what’re you doing? What’s that burning?”
“He’s burned the messages!” Jupiter exclaimed. The blow-lamp was still burning on the bench with a low flame, and Mr. Jeeters had thrust all the messages into its flame. Even as they watched the bits of paper turned into curls of ash.
“Now, let’s see you try to solve anything!” Mr. Jeeters sneered.
“I can remember the first two messages,” Jupiter said. “But if the one with all the numbers is gone, I don’t know how we can ever find out what Mr. Clock was trying to tell us.”
“Try your brains on that problem!” Mr. Jeeters laughed. He turned to Jerry and Carlos. “You fools!” he hissed at the other two. “You told me you had shaken off your tail. This fat kid called the police, and you let them trail you here — ”
“But I didn’t!” Jupiter blurted out, as astonished as anyone else by this new development.
“Keep them covered, Joe,” the first policeman said.
He strode to the garage door and swung it up. A dapper-looking man stepped in, and the garage door swung down behind him. He stood smiling at the group before him.
“Well, well,” he said. “Nicely done, men. The situation seems to be under control.” Jupiter’s eyes bugged out. “Mr. Hugenay!” he gasped.
Mr. Jeeters and his companions seemed to recognize the name, for they looked grim and nervous. They remained silent, however, waiting for developments.
“But — but — ” Jupiter spluttered. “They lost you in the traffic. You couldn’t possibly have followed us!”
“I took precautions,” Hugenay said airily. He stepped up to Jupiter and slid a hand into the side pocket of Jupe’s jacket. He brought out a small, flat object.
“This,” he said, “is an electronic signalling device. I put it in your pocket the last time I spoke to you. In my car I have a receiver tuned to it. I simply followed the sound it emitted. Even in the traffic on the freeway I was able to follow, and I knew when the truck turned off. It took me a few minutes to trail the sound to this garage, but once I had located you, I simply sent my assistants in to take charge.”
“Mr. Hugenay!” It was Bob who spoke now. Still tied to a chair, he had been staring at the art thief ever since he had entered. “It was you who chased us yesterday and stole the clock, wasn’t it?”
Mr. Hugenay made a slight bow. “I plead guilty. However, I intended no harm. I only wanted to, shall we say, help you in your search? But this is no time for talking, pleasant though it is to meet old acquaintances again. Men, handcuff those three to that post.”
A steel post rose in the centre of the garage to support the roof. Cowed by the policemen’s guns, Mr. Jeeters, Jerry and Carlos stood with their backs to it while one of the blue-coated men manacled their wrists. The right wrist of each man was handcuffed to the left wrist of the man beside him, so that when the policemen had finished, the three made a circle around the steel post, quite unable to go anywhere.
“Very good,” Hugenay said. “Now it is time for us to get on with our business.”
“Wait a minute, Hugenay.” It was Jeeters who spoke, and he was trying to sound pleasant. “Why don’t we all throw in together? Between us we can probably find the stuff a lot quicker.”
“I know everything you know,” Hugenay said lightly. “You tried to get ahead of me and you must suffer for it. In any case, as you see I am working with the police now. All right, men, untie the boys and let’s get started for Bert Clock’s library.”
A moment later the six were in a large black sedan, moving at a normal speed through the Hollywood streets.
Hugenay chuckled to himself as they rode along.
“My boy,” he said to Jupiter, who sat beside him, “no doubt you had given up all thought of ever seeing me again.”
“Well, yes sir, I had,” Jupiter admitted. “Especially after the police came through the windows. I never expected you to be working with the police.”
Hugenay chuckled again. “The police? I merely rented two police uniforms at a costume shop today and presto! — I had two policemen for assistants. Do not be fooled by surface appearances.”
Jupiter gulped. He
“He will?” Harry exclaimed. “Golly, that’s terrific!”
“It is simple, my boy,” Hugenay said. “I will tell you the circumstances, Mr. Bert Clock, the former actor, has — if you have not already guessed it — been the brains behind a gang of art thieves that has been operating for years in this area, stealing valuable paintings from wealthy motion picture people who did not guard them well enough.”
“Of course!” Bob said. “That’s why Mr. Clock changed his name some years ago and has been acting so mysterious. He’s a thief. I’ll bet he stole those paintings that were hidden under the linoleum in Harry’s kitchen.”
“Perhaps he did not steal them himself,” Hugenay said as they rolled along. “He had assistants to do that. Jerry, the former jockey, was one. He used several jockeys, because they are small men and can get through windows easily. He sold the pictures to wealthy South American collectors who would keep them safely hidden. Carlos was a contact with the South Americans.
“A couple of years ago, several paintings were stolen that Mr. Clock could not get rid of. Two of his best South American customers had just been put in jail after the failure of a plot to overthrow their government. So Mr. Clock hid the paintings, and told his men he would sell them later, when the time was ripe.
“However, he made no move and Jerry and Carlos decided to act on their own. They stole three paintings and brought them to Mr. Clock to sell, demanding that he also produce the five — yes, it was five — that were hidden.
“However, by one of those freakish coincidences with which life is full, the police investigating this latest art robbery turned their attention to someone in Mr. Clock’s own house — your father, Harry. Frightened lest they learn too much, Mr. Clock hid the three new paintings where the police would find them and blame your father.”