CHAPTER 7 : Trapped!
“WE HAVE A PROBLEM,” Jupiter said the following
afternoon. He and Pete were seated in their
Headquarters office―Bob was busy at the library―
and Jupe was scowling at a sheet of paper.
“In fact, we have two problems,” The First
Investigator added.
“I can tell you how to solve our problems,” Pete
said.“Just pick up that telephone and call Mr. Alfred
Hitchcock and tell him we’ve decided not to find a
haunted house for him. Tell him we break out into
large lumps of goose-flesh whenever we get near one.
Tell him our legs go all wobbly and start running of
their own accord.”
Jupiter ignored the suggestion.
“Our first problem,” he stated,“is to determine who
made that phone call last night.”
“Not who,” Pete declared.“What ... Was it a
phantom or a spook or a werewolf, or just a
disembodied spirit?”
“Disembodied spirits,” said his partner,“are not
known to use telephones. Neither are spooks,
phantoms, or werewolves.”
“That was in the old days. Why shouldn’t they
change with the times and be modern, too? That voice
last night didn’t sound like a human voice to me.”
Jupiter scowled, his round features showing
puzzlement.
“I agree,” he said.“The whole problem is made
more perplexing by the fact that, except for us and
Worthington, not a living soul knew of our visit to
Terror Castle last night.”
“But what about souls who aren’t living?” Pete
asked.
“If Terror Castle is actually haunted,” Jupiter told
him,“we wish to prove it. It will be a feather in our
caps. We ought to learn more about Stephen Terrill.
If he is the one who put a curse on the castle then
presumably it is his ghost haunting the place now.”
“Well, that sounds reasonable,” Pete admitted.
“Our first line of action, then, is to locate someone
who knew Stephen Terrill in the days when he was a
silent-picture star, and who can tell us more about
him.”
“But that was a long time ago!” Pete protested.
“Who’d we find?”
“It seems a long time to us because of our youthful
years. There must still be many people in Hollywood
who knew Mr. Terrill.”
“Oh, sure. Name two.”
“Our best bet,” Jupiter said,“would be Mr.
Terrill’s business manager, The Whisperer.”
“The Whisperer?” Pete exclaimed.“What kind of
name is that?”
“That was his nickname. His real name was
Jonathan Rex. Here is a picture of him.”
The First Investigator passed over a photograph of
a newspaper picture and story. Bob Andrews had
copied it at the library on the duplicator machine. It
showed a rather tall man, with a totally bald head and
a long, ugly scar on his neck, shaking hands with a
smaller, pleasant-looking, brown-haired man with a
rather wistful smile. The tall man had slitted,
ferocious-looking eyes.
“Wow!” Pete exclaimed.“So that was what
Stephen Terrill looked like! He didn’t have to do any
acting to scare people. That scar and those eyes would
freeze a guy in his tracks.”
“You’re looking at the wrong one. Mr. Terrill is the
smaller man, the one who looks so friendly and
harmless.”
“Him?” Pete said.“He’s the one who played all
those ferocious monsters? That nice-looking guy?”
“He had a very average face, but he could twist it to
represent any diabolical individual he desired,”
Jupiter explained.“The story says, in case you
haven’t read it――”
“I was concentrating on the ghostly parts,” Pete
confessed.
“Well, the story says that off the motion-picture set,
Stephen Terrill was so shy, because of his lisp, that he
could hardly talk to people. So he hired The
Whisperer to handle all his business affairs. The
Whisperer had no trouble getting people to agree to
the terms he desired.”
“I’ll bet he didn’t!” Pete declared.“He looks as if
he’d draw a knife the minute anyone said no.”
“If we can locate him, I’m sure he can tell us all we
need to know.”
“Oh, sure―if. Maybe you have an idea?”
“The telephone books. He may still be living in this
region.”
It was Pete who found the name.
“Here he is!” he exclaimed.“Jonathan Rex. Nine
hundred and fifteen Winding Valley Road. Shall we
telephone him?”
“I think it would be better if our visit were
unannounced. But we’ll telephone for the car.”
“That was a stroke of genius, winning that car,”
Pete said, as Jupiter telephoned.“I hate to think what
we’ll do when the thirty days are up.”
“I have certain plans,” his partner told him.
“However, that’s for the future. We’d better tell Aunt
Mathilda we’ll be late for supper.”
Mrs. Jones agreed she would keep supper for them.
But when Worthington and the big, gleaming car
drove up to the gate of The Jones Salvage Yard, she
shook her head.
“My sakes,” she said,“I never know what you’ll be
doing next, Jupiter. Riding round in an automobile
made for some Arabian sheik! You’ll be spoiled,
mark my words.”
Just how her nephew would be spoiled, she didn’t
say. Jupiter did not seem worried by the prospect as
he settled back on to the leather upholstery.
Worthington was forced to examine several maps
before he announced he had found Winding Valley
Road. It apparently started quite some distance away,
on the other side of the range of mountains. As they
started over the hills, Jupiter had one of his frequent
inspirations.
“Worthington,” he said,“I believe this road will
pass within a mile of the entrance of Black Canyon.”
“Yes, Master Jones,” the chauffeur replied.“Just
before we start over the hills to the valley.”
“Then let’s pay a quick visit to Black Canyon on
the way. There’s something I want to ascertain.”
It took them only a few moments to reach the
mouth of the narrow canyon they bad visited the night
before―and fled from so hastily. By daylight it looked
better―but only a little better. As Worthington
reached the spot where the rotted crossbars and rock
slide had closed off he road, he gave an exclamation.
“Look!” he said.“Tyre tracks over the ones we
made last night! I hesitated to say it at the time,
Master Jones, but I had an impression we were being
followed. I could not be sure, however.”
Followed? Pete and Jupiter stared at each other.
“Another mystery to ponder,” Jupiter said.“But it
must wait. Right now I want to look round the
outside of Terror Castle.”
“Fine!” The Second Investigator said.“Just as long
as we stay on the outside it’s okay with me.”
By daylight they made rapid time, scrambling up
the rock-choked, narrow road, until Terror Castle
loomed above them.
“To think we went into that place after dark!” Pete
said.“Wow!”
Jupiter led him all round the outside of the
building, exploring even the rear of the castle and the
steep slopes above it.
“We are looking for any evidence that human
beings may be using this place as a hide-out,” he said.
“If they are, they are bound to leave some evidence―
a trail in the dirt ... a carelessly discarded
cigarette...”
But an extensive search found nothing. At last they
stopped to rest at one side of the building.
“Definitely no trace of any humans coming or going
here,” Jupiter said with satisfaction.“If the castle is
inhabited, it can only be inhabited by ghosts. Which is
what we want to prove.”
“I’m satisfied to believe it without any proof,” Pete
told him.
At that moment, some very human shrieks made
them whirl round so they could stare down at the
front entrance of Terror Castle. While they watched,
two figures came running through the door, yelling
with terror, and raced madly down the road out of the
canyon. One suddenly stumbled and went sprawling.
Something shiny flew from his hand and fell beside
the road. Ignoring it, he leaped up and raced after his
companion.
“Well, those certainly weren’t ghosts,” Pete said, as
his initial surprise diminished.“But they acted as if
they had just met a couple.”
“Quickly!” Jupiter was starting down the slope
with surprising speed.“We must try to identify them.”
Pete raced after him. Already the two runners were
out of sight. Jupiter came to the spot where the one
had fallen and picked up an expensive torch with a
nameplate on it. Engraved on the nameplate were the
letters E.S.N.
“E.S.N.,” Jupiter read.“Who does that make you
think of?”
“E. Skinner Norris!” Pete exploded.“Skinny
Norris! But it couldn’t be! How could he be here?”
“Remember what Bob told us about Skinny
hanging round him in the library, and about losing
one of our professional cards? And what Worthington
said about being followed last night? It would be just
like Skinny to try to find out what we were up to, and
then either beat us to whatever we were after or mess
up the case for us.”
“Yes,” Pete agreed thoughtfully.“Skinny would do
anything to get ahead of you for once. But if he and
one of his pals went into Terror Castle, they certainly
came out in a hurry!”
He chuckled, but Jupiter looked serious as he
pocketed the torch.
“We came out in a hurry too,” he reminded his
partner.“The difference is, we’re going back in, and
I’m positive Skinny never will. In fact, I’ve decided to
go back in right now and have a look round by
daylight!”
Before Pete could protest, a crashing sound far
above them made them look up.
A large boulder was plunging down the steep
canyon wall towards them!
Pete started to duck, but Jupiter grabbed him.
“Wait!” he said.“It will miss us by some yards.”
It did, hitting the road with an ominous crash ten
yards away, splintering the concrete, and rolling on
down the slope.
“If that had hit us,” Pete said fervently,“Terror
Castle would have had some new ghosts tonight!”
“Look!“ Jupiter grabbed his arm. There’s
somebody up on that slope, hiding behind bushes. I’ll
bet Skinny Norris climbed up there and rolled that
stone down on us!”
“If he did,” Pete said wrathfully,“we’ll teach him
better manners. Come on, Jupe, let’s get him!”
Both boys began to scramble up the rough rocky
slope of the canyon, hampered by loose stones and
many scrub bushes. Above them a moving figure was
disappearing in the distance. They rounded a sharp
outcrop of rock and paused for breath. In front of
them, going into the hillside, was a narrow, ragged
crevice. At some time in the past, an earthquake had
shaken these hills and split the rocks apart along a
natural fault line.
As they stared at the opening, a sudden scraping
sound above them drew their startled attention.
Higher up on the slope, a mass of rocks and boulders
was sliding down towards them.
Pete froze. But Jupiter acted without an instant’s
hesitation. He grabbed his partner’s arm and yanked
him forward, as deep into the narrow crevice as they
could get. A moment later, with a thunderous roar,
the sliding rocks and dirt passed over the mouth of
the opening. A few rocks stumbled in. Enough others
piled up on the flat spot in front of the crevice to
make a solid wall, effectively entombing them inside
the hill. The rest of the boulders roared on down to
the road below.
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