“Yup. He’s been helping me out the last couple of weeks, off and on.”
Bob opened his envelope and thumbed through the bills there. “Hey, you gave me too much,” he said.
“Minimum wage plus a bit,” Harry Burnside shot back. “I can’t stand to pay just minimum wage. It makes me feel like I’m running the Ebenezer Scrooge Sweatshop. You want some chocolate cake? It’s left over from a kid’s party I did this afternoon, and I don’t dare eat it. My girl will dump me if I gain one more ounce.”
“Funny, Aunt Mathilda said something like that to me this morning at breakfast,” said Jupe, “but I don’t think she really meant it.”
“The cake’s in the pantry,” said Burnside. “On the shelf behind the door.”
Jupe went into the pantry, a square little room that opened off the kitchen. It had floor-to-ceiling shelves where Burnside kept packages of chocolate and canisters of flour and sugar, tins of caviar and jars of olives.
Jupe had to swing the door half shut to get at the chocolate cake. As he reached for the knife that Burnside had left on the cake plate, his foot touched something soft.
He looked down and saw a plastic sack that had been shoved behind the door. It was a pink sack with brilliant purple lettering on it. A sack from Becket’s Department Store.
For a second Jupe just stared at the bag. So Harry Burnside has been at Becket’s, he thought. Well, why not? Why shouldn’t the caterer go into the department store to pick up something he needed — a new shirt perhaps, or a pair of shoes. What if Ariago did manage a Becket store for Jeremy Pilcher? That didn’t mean Burnside and Ariago had business together.
But in his mind’s eye Jupe saw Ariago hurrying away from Mrs. Pilcher’s house. He kept coming back to that memory. Where had Ariago been while Jupe and Mrs. Pilcher talked? Had he been hiding somewhere, listening?
Hiding! There was no other word for it. If Ariago had just been a casual visitor, he would have been in the living room. Jupe would have seen him. But he had hidden. Why?
And could Harry Burnside be involved with him? Could the good-natured caterer have had a part in Pilcher’s abduction? It was an outside chance. True, Burnside’s name was not on the list in Pilcher’s computer, but that meant only that Pilcher didn’t know Burnside well enough to have him investigated. It did not mean Burnside wasn’t interested in Pilcher. He might have a relative whom Pilcher had wronged. Or he might know something about the bloodstained bishop and the mysterious diary. Or Ariago might have bribed him. Burnside needed money; he might have been willing to take a bribe.
There was something blue at the top of the plastic sack. Jupe bent and touched it. It was a Windbreaker. The sack fell sideways and the Windbreaker tumbled out. Under the Windbreaker was a folded newspaper. Jupe did not touch this; he just stared at it.
Bits had been cut from the paper. Words! Someone had cut words from the headlines on the front page!
MAYOR OF TOKYO
TO HUNTINGTON HARBOR
BRINGS GREETINGS TO SISTER CITY
That was one headline, and mentally Jupe supplied the word that had been cut out. It was “comes.” It was the second word in the note from the kidnapper.
“Hey, Jupe!” Burnside called from the kitchen. “You going to take all day cutting that cake?”
Jupe jumped. He stuffed the Windbreaker back into the sack and propped the sack against the wall. Hastily he hacked three slices from the cake, put the slices on a paper plate, and carried the plate to the kitchen.
“I didn’t cut any for you,” he told Burnside.
“Thanks,” said Burnside. “My good resolutions don’t last long without lots of reinforcement.”
Bob and Pete took their cake. Jupe pulled a stool from under a counter and sat down to eat his.
“So how are you guys doing with the heiress?” asked Burnside. “You got any leads yet? Is she going to get her father back?”
“She’s going to try, but it’s an uphill job,” said Jupe. “The kidnapper wants a thing called the bishop’s book as ransom, and Marilyn doesn’t know what that means.”
Bob and Pete stopped eating for a second. Pete drew a breath as if to say, “But we do know.”
He didn’t say it. Instead he said, “I’ll bet we’ve looked at about seven billion books.”
“And a few tons of old papers,” Bob put in. “Mr. Pilcher sure glommed onto stuff and never let go.”
Burnside chuckled. “I’ll bet most of it isn’t worth a darn,” he said.
“Later on we’re going to Central Coast Marine,” said Jupe. “You know, that shipyard up on Bowsprit Drive? Pilcher has a yacht in dry dock there. The Bonnie Betsy. Mrs. Pilcher suggested that we search there for the book. I guess the yacht’s as full of junk as the house.”
“Be surprised if it wasn’t,” said Burnside. He looked past Jupe to the doorway. “Ramon, come on in,” he said. “I’ve got your money ready for you.”
Jupe turned to see the dark-haired fellow who had washed dishes at the Pilcher party. He nodded to the boys and went to take an envelope from Burnside.
“You guys almost ready?” Jupe asked his friends. He ate the last of his cake, and Pete and Bob hastily finished theirs. They said good-bye to Harry Burnside and Ramon, who was in the pantry cutting some cake for himself.
The Three Investigators went out the back way. They passed Burnside’s truck, which was parked in the alley, and kept going until they were out of the alley and across the street. Only then did Jupe look back.
“Now what was all that double-talk?” Bob demanded.
“Yeah? Why’d you give Burnside that business about the bishop’s book, and how we’re going to the shipyard later?” said Pete. “You know something we don’t?”
“There was a plastic sack in the pantry,” said Jupe. “It was from Becket’s. Ariago manages Becket’s. That might not mean a thing, except that there’s a newspaper in the sack with words cut out of some of the headlines.”
Bob gasped. “The ransom note!”
“Exactly,” Jupe said.
“Burnside?” said Pete. “Burnside a kidnapper? I can’t believe that. It’s like believing your grandpa is really Dracula!”
“I know.” Jupe looked grim. “It doesn’t seem possible, but I saw the paper. I have to believe what I saw.”
“So you’re setting a trap for him,” Bob prompted.
“Right. He thinks the book may be at the shipyard. Now let’s see what he does.”
Pete looked worried. “If we’re going to follow him, we need a car — right away!”
Jupe nodded. “Ray Estava said he wants to help us. Let’s give him a chance!”
14
Jupe Thinks Again
Ray Estava was there in fifteen minutes. He drove a dull-looking gray sedan that had rust on the fenders and a few dents and nicks on the side panels. “I borrowed it from a neighbor,” said Estava as the boys got in. “It’s such a nothing sort of car, no one will ever notice us. Who are we going to tail?”
“Harry Burnside,” Jupe told him. “His shop’s over there. He should be leaving any minute.”
“Burnside?” Sanchez looked startled. “He’s mixed up in this mess? But he’s the original Mr. Nice Guy!”
“I know it’s hard to believe,” Jupe admitted, “but I found the evidence… Look! There he is!”
Jupe pointed. They could see the back door of the catering shop. Harry Burnside was just locking the dead bolt.
Ray Estava started his car.
Burnside got into his truck, and the truck rolled forward.
The boys ducked down out of sight.
Burnside braked at the end of the alley and looked to the left and the right. Then he pulled out and headed for the Coast Highway.
Estava let him get a block ahead before he followed.
Burnside had to wait for a light at the highway intersection. Estava slowed so that a van loaded with surfers could pass and get between his car and Burnside’s truck.
“You’re pretty good at this,” said Pete admiringly.