Chapter Seven
EVERYONE looked around in shock. Who had spoken, and how? Was someone hiding in the trunk?
Carter stopped the car at the side of the road. "Who said that?" he called. No answer.
"Golly! Maybe we ought to open up the trunk and make sure no one's stowed away in there," Gomer suggested.
Duke was just about to climb out of the car and go check, when Boyle spoke up. "No one could be in the trunk. The voice would have been too muffled that way."
Carter threw up his hands in despair. "Well, then, how? Tell me that, Boyle—how?"
"Maybe someone has some kind of microphone or walkie-talkie stashed away," Boyle replied.
"Shazam! Would someone do a thing like that?" Gomer cried. "Shame, shame, shame!"
Carter started the engine again. "Maybe you guys ought to check."
A fruitless search was conducted. "Well, I guess nothing's here," Gomer concluded, but at that moment accidentally hit the dashboard. A tiny, beetle-shaped object flew through the air, which Boyle promptly caught.
"Sure is a cute little bug," Gomer remarked.
Boyle turned the object around and around. "This isn't a bug, Pyle. Not the living kind, anyway."
"Shazam! What kind is it then?" Gomer asked, horrified.
"It's the homing device kind," was the startling answer.
"It is? Well, shame, shame, shame!"
"The homing device kind?" Carter repeated.
"That's right, Vince. Someone must have put this thing under the dashboard while we were wandering around in that mansion."
"This is all quite puzzling," Lester remarked.
Gomer, Carter, and Boyle told of their experiences in the old Crawford mansion.
When they'd concluded, Colonel Gray said, "Why would anyone do such things, Sergeant?" referring to the odd mansion incidents.
"Well, sir . . ." Carter looked around to make sure there weren't any more bugs hidden away ". . . maybe it all has something to do with the mystery we're working on."
"Mystery?" Col. Gray was very interested. "What mystery, Sergeant?"
Carter explained, which was rather difficult to do, since Gomer kept breaking into the story with his remarks. At the end of his report, he showed Col. Gray the note.
"Well, Sergeant, those criminals must want you and Private Pyle and Corporal Boyle off the case very badly," Col. Gray said presently after reading the cryptic message.
"Terrible, terrible, terrible!" Gomer broke in.
"If you and your comrades here decide to further pursue the case," Col. Gray continued, "I would advise that you be very cautious. Who knows what the criminals would do next if they knew you were planning to continue? They likely did those things to scare you off the case. You should probably make it appear as though you have ceased investigations and pursue the case very secretly. One wrong move might put the entire Marine Corps in jeopardy!"
"Yes, sir, that's one the Marine Corps doesn't need—jepernizing," Carter agreed. "We'll be careful."
Boyle and Gomer looked at each other. Carter had a bit of a pronunciation problem with some words, and "jeopardy" was one of them.
Col. Gray looked faintly amused as he dismissed them.
Sgt. Carter had taken the 1st platoon out on mortar practice, so Cpl. Boyle was the only one there.
"Corporal," Col. Gray began, "something very peculiar has happened!"
Boyle looked up from the papers he was typing. "What is it, sir?"
"Lieutenant Masters has disappeared!" was the unexpected answer.
"Disappeared?" Boyle repeated. "How do you know, sir?"
"No one has seen him at all today and we've combed the entire base," Col. Gray replied. "He has simply disappeared!"
"Maybe he went AWOL," Boyle suggested.
"It's a slight possibility," Col. Gray agreed. "But so many odd things have occurred lately that it very likely might have some connection with the mystery."
Just then a loud clattering sound was heard outside.
"Good heavens!" Col. Gray exclaimed. "It sounded as though someone just walked across the roof and knocked a paint can down!"
He and Boyle hurried outside. There was a paint can lying on the ground, just to the left of the door, and white footprints leading to the edge of the base. Apparently, someone had accidentally stepped in the paint and then tracked it all over.
"What has happened here? You didn't assign someone to paint the roof, did you?" Col. Gray demanded.
"No, sir." Boyle looked around, puzzled. "And Sergeant Carter would have told me if he had. Our platoon's out on the mortar range."
They glanced about. No one seemed to be around except themselves.
"Maybe it was an accomplice of those criminals," Boyle said suddenly. "Maybe one of the criminals is a Marine stationed right here on the base and knew he could get information easy, sir."
Col. Gray nodded. "That's possible. But who could it be? None of the men here have a criminal record. Except . . ." He paused. "That new boy who was just recently shipped into your platoon, Corporal. I don't believe anyone has checked his record."
"Well, sir, I think Sergeant Carter tried to find out, but he has to wait for some information to be sent back to him," Boyle replied.
"Once it comes in, be sure and call me," Col. Gray instructed.
"Yes, sir. I will, sir," Boyle assured him.
"In the meantime, we've got to find out who was on that roof!" Col. Gray gestured at it in emphasis.
It was a catastrophe! Tables were overturned. Chairs were strung everywhere.
The kitchen part was even worse. The freezer door stood open. Several pieces of toast had been burnt and flung across the room. Silverware was all over the floor, and even stuck in the wall. Most noticeable, however, was the whipped cream.
It was on the ceiling. It was on the walls. And the floor. And the table.
It dripped all over the freezer in great, white globs.
"What in the world happened in here?" Boyle exclaimed aloud. "And where is everyone?"
He noticed a small, white thing stuck under a chair and pulled it out. Another handkerchief, identical to the one he'd found at the Crawford mansion!
He was just going to go tell someone when Sgt. Hacker opened the door. The mess sergeant surveyed the building for a moment, unnoticed by Boyle.
But Hacker noticed him. "What's been happening in here?"
Boyle jumped. "Oh, hello, Sergeant. I have no idea what's happened in here. I was just wondering that myself."
"My mess hall is an obstacle course!" Hacker fumed, gesturing around. "And who's been stepping in paint and tracking it all around?"
"Someone who was eavesdropping this morning," Boyle replied.
"Huh?"
Boyle glanced around. "Well, I don't like to say too much. Maybe whoever it was is still in this area and would hear. They've heard enough already."
"Well, it sure looks like something," Boyle agreed.
The door opened. Cpl. Jensen and three of Hacker's men came in. They stared in shock.
"Sarge, what happened in here?" Jensen exclaimed.
"Oh, who knows!" Hacker responded, throwing up his hands, annoyed. "Where have you guys been, anyway?"
"We heard some sound outside so we went to investigate," one of the Privates began. "We walked all around the mess hall, but didn't see a thing."
"We were going to come back in," continued another, "but some big disaster happened over in Company D and the sergeant there called us over to help out."
"What happened at Company D this time?" Boyle asked. "Last time a grenade went off."
"This time a small fire started outside by the duty hut," Jensen replied.
"A small fire?" Boyle and Hacker repeated.
"Yeah. The corporal over there thought maybe it was done on purpose," one of the Privates said.
Hands on hips, Hacker turned to Boyle. "What goes on around here anyway?" he demanded. "Lately all kinds of things have been happening. My food disappears. Grenades go off. You and Carter and Pyle get trapped in a haunted house. And now this!" The sergeant gestured around the mess hall in emphasis.
"Hey, Sarge! Come look at this!" Jensen called from the kitchen.
"What is it now?" Hacker moaned.
"You've gotta see this for yourself, Sarge," Jensen replied.
Hacker, Boyle, and the Privates climbed over the toppled tables, benches, and chairs and opened the kitchen door.
"In here!" Jensen called from the doorway of the freezer, pointing at something inside.
Everyone crowded around. A message in whipped cream was on the far wall of the freezer, next to a leg of lamb.
"And now threats!" Hacker yelled, raising a soup ladle in anger. "There's more going on here than meets the eye! What's the Jewel Pendant?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Boyle responded.
"Where have you been, Boyle?" Carter exclaimed.
"There was some excitement over at the mess hall," Boyle said. He told Carter about the vandalism and the whipped cream message. "By the way, what's that?" he asked, pointing at the envelope and its papers.
"I think we just may have found one of the criminals," Carter answered.
"Huh?"
"Well, this happens to be a check on Private Nelson's criminal record," Carter explained. "It says that when he was sixteen, he was arrested as an accomplice in a shoplifting crime. What do you think of that? He must be the on-base connection, right?"
Boyle sighed. "I admit, it does make him a suspect. But he's probably reformed by now."
"Oh, Boyle, he must be the one! Who else?"
Boyle shrugged. "Well, lots of people. We ought to watch Nelson a little, at least for a while, but we shouldn't just immediately jump to the conclusion that he's the criminal."
Just then Gomer came tearing in. "Have you heard the news?" he blurted.
"What news, Pyle? Has Attorney Evans decided to enlist?" Carter asked sardonically.
"Oh, no, Sergeant. Nothing like that! There was a fire over at Company D!"
"Fire?" Carter exclaimed.
Boyle snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah. Some of Hacker's men were telling about that. They said that the corporal over there thought maybe it was arson. It was a small fire outside, and nothing burned except some grass, but Corporal Wood thinks it was another warning, like that last one with the grenade."
"This is awful, Sergeant. Just awful!" Gomer cried. "Maybe we ought to drop out of the case!"
Carter was about to make a comment when the phone rang. Boyle answered. He talked for several minutes, then hung up.
"That was Mary Ann Harper," Boyle told the others. "She said that she just heard on the news that the police have made an arrest and closed down the jewel robbery case. They've dropped their espionage suspicions and decided it was just regular jewel thefts. The guy they've arrested keeps insisting he knows nothing about the robberies, but the police don't believe him."
"That's terrible!" Gomer exclaimed. "That man might be telling the truth and the real jewel thieves are running off scot-free!" He looked at Carter pleadingly. "We can't drop out of the case, Sergeant! I'll take back what I said!"
Carter looked at Gomer, then Boyle, then Gomer again. "Well, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "But"—he held up a finger—"We'll have to go about it quietly, like the Colonel suggested. We can't let Nel . . . er, the criminals know we're going to keep on. So we'll talk like we've given up and then investigate in private."
At that minute, Carter looked out the window and saw Private Nelson working nearby. He stayed by the window and said in a loud voice, "Well, I guess that wraps the case up. The police have caught the real criminal, so there's no need for us to keep investigating. The case is closed. We can go back to our peaceful lives without jewel thefts to concern us."
Boyle looked out the window, then back at Carter with an amused expression. Gomer wasn't sure what to say.
And outside, Private Nelson finished his detail in a hurry and sprinted away.
"Why, that's terrible!" Lou-Ann exclaimed. "You boys certainly are in trouble!"
"Yeah, Vince," Bunny agreed. "Maybe you ought to forget it."
Carter said in a hushed voice, "We're going to make it seem like we have given it up, and then investigate secretly."
"It's a plan," Gomer added.
"Even at that, aren't you taking an awful risk?" Bunny persisted.
"Probably," Carter replied dryly, then explained their reasons for not abandoning ship.
"What do you think, Miss Harper?" Boyle asked suddenly. "Do you think that guy the police have arrested had something to do with the crimes?"
"Well, actually, I don't know what to think," Mary Ann said after a moment's ponder. "But I suppose he could be innocent. Most mysteries work out that way, and the one you least suspect is the real criminal."
Just then, an announcement came over the radio up front that had been playing music.
"This just in!" cried the reporter. "Jewels and Things, a jewelry store in the Los Angeles vicinity, has been robbed. The thieves took three pearls, two rubies, and a jeweled pendant. No one was injured, as the robbery took place after closing time and after the owner, Mr. Robert Goldwyn, left to return home. A passerby happened to look in the display window and noticed something was missing and that the door had been jimmied open and notified the police. No concrete leads have turned up, but police suspect that Ed Barton, the man they arrested earlier today, might know something and are planning to question him on the matter."
All six stared at the radio as if it had suddenly grown legs and walked away.
"Shazam! That's awful!" Gomer commented.
"It's terrible!" Lou-Ann added.
"The phantom jewel thieves strike again," Boyle remarked.
Bunny turned to Carter and said in a pleading whisper, "Oh, Vince, if the police are just going to go on suspecting that Ed Barton is definitely the criminal, and he's not, then the real criminals will be running loose! You've got to catch them!"
"Don't worry, Bunny. I'll . . . er, we'll catch 'em red-handed!" Carter assured her.
"That's right," Gomer agreed. "We'll catch them, Miss Bunny!"
Several people turned to stare.
"Pyle!" Carter exclaimed, annoyed. "Keep it down!"
Gomer blushed slightly. "Sorry, Sergeant," he said meekly.
"New things are happening every day," Carter realized. "And most of them aren't flattering!"
"Who knows what will happen next," Boyle sighed.
"Well, I know one thing we could do," Gomer said suddenly.
"What?" the others chorused.
"We could go talk to that man the police have arrested."
"Hey, that's not such a bad idea, Pyle," Boyle congratulated him. "Except what if he really is a crook and then somehow gets word to his pals that we're still on the case?"
Carter turned the car left. "Maybe we can get someone else to go," he suggested. "Someone that this Barton couldn't have possibly ever seen before. Now I wonder who could go," he mused.
Gomer changed the subject. "So, Corporal, you say there was a disaster over at the mess hall today?" Boyle had briefly mentioned the vandalism, but hadn't had time to go into details.
The Corporal nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Someone vandalized the whole place. Or else had a fight there or something like that. In fact, that's what Hacker said—that it looked like a brawl had taken place."
Gomer gasped. "Golly! Was anyone hurt?"
"Thankfully, no. Everyone was away at the time," Boyle replied.
Suddenly, Carter stopped the car.
"What's the matter?" Boyle asked.
"Nothing," Carter answered airily. "You and Pyle have just given me an idea, Boyle."
"Huh?"
"About who can go talk to that guy the police are holding," Carter continued.
"Well, who?"
"Yes, Sergeant," Gomer echoed. "Who?"
"You'll find out," Carter said nonchalantly, starting up the engine again and driving away.
