“What’s this idea you had for watching Elmquist?” asked Pete.
“I’ll explain it later. I haven’t got it all worked out yet.”
Bob and Pete left then. Bob decided to put in a few hours at his part-time job at the Rocky Beach library, where he catalogued and shelved books. Pete ran some errands for his mother. Jupe spent the rest of the morning scraping rust off some garden furniture that Aunt Mathilda wanted fixed up for resale. After lunch he got busy in his workshop, repairing some electronic devices. These he finally packed in a carton, which he carried down to the bus stop along with a knapsack full of clean clothes.
“Hey, what’s in the box?” asked Bob. “Some new invention?”
“It’s a closed-circuit television camera and receiver,” said Jupe. “It used to be in a department store.”
“Oh, yeah!” said Pete. “They’ve got them all over the place now. Security people use them to watch for shoplifters.”
“Where’d you get that one?” Bob asked.
“The store that owned this system had a fire,” Jupe reported. “The cameras and the monitors were damaged and Uncle Titus was able to buy them for almost nothing. I fixed up this set. It wasn’t hard.”
“So that’s how we’re going to watch Sonny Elmquist!” said Bob.
“Right. Since Prentice has no windows opening on to the balcony, we can’t watch the courtyard unobserved without a device like this. Of course, we could just sit out on the balcony or by the pool, but I don’t want Elmquist–or anyone–to know we’re watching. There’s a big potted plant outside Mr Prentice’s door that can conceal the camera. We’ll sit inside and watch the monitor screen.”
“Great!” said Pete. “It’ll be our own TV show!”
An hour later the boys entered the front gate of Prentice’s apartment building, to be met by the ever present Mrs Bortz.
“Back again?” she said. She eyed the carton, which Pete was now carrying. “What’s that?” she demanded.
“It’s a TV set,” said Jupe simply. “A late Christmas present for Mr Prentice.”
Jupe glanced past the manager. Murphy, the stockbroker, sat beside the pool smoking a cigarette and enjoying the last of the afternoon sun. Every few seconds he knocked ashes into his special ashtray. When he saw the boys he smiled. “You going to be staying with Mr Prentice tonight?” he asked.
“I think so,” said Jupe.
“Good.” Murphy put out his cigarette. “The old man must get lonesome. It’s nice to have company once in a while. My nephew left today to visit friends and I miss him already.” Murphy stood up and went into his apartment.
Mr Prentice was waiting for the boys in his doorway. He was delighted with the closed-circuit television camera.
“We’ll set it up at dusk,” said Jupe, “before the courtyard lights go on. I believe that’s around five-thirty?”
Mr Prentice nodded. “The lights go on automatically, shortly after sunset.”
At 5.20 Jupe peeked out the balcony door and said, “Quick, fellows, while no one is watching.” He directed Bob and Pete to stand at the edge of the balcony, blocking the view from downstairs of the potted rubber tree outside Mr Prentice’s apartment. Then he quickly put the small television camera in position. It stood on a low metal tripod, which Jupe inserted in the earth in the pot. He adjusted the lens so that it pointed down into the courtyard.
“The camera is transistorized,” said Jupe as the boys re-entered the apartment. “It runs on batteries. It will only send its signals–the image of what it sees–a few feet, but that’s all we need.”
He closed the apartment door and set the TV monitor on a bookcase. Then he plugged it in and turned a dial. After a second, the screen flickered faintly.
“Hey, Jupe, I can’t make out a thing!” complained Pete.
“Wait until the courtyard lights come on,” said Jupe.
A few minutes later the Investigators and Mr Prentice were looking at a clear picture of the courtyard below. As they watched, Sonny Elmquist came out of his apartment and disappeared into the rear passageway. He returned carrying a laundry bag and went back into his apartment.
Next a plump young blonde woman appeared in the foreground of the TV screen. Evidently she had just come in from the front gate.
“That’s Miss Chalmers,” said Fenton Prentice.
Miss Chalmers was just about to unlock her door when Mrs Bortz appeared behind her. The manager had a package which she handed to the young woman.
“Apparently something was delivered today for Miss Chalmers,” said Mr Prentice. “Mrs Bortz always signs for packages that are delivered when tenants aren’t home.”
“I’m sure she enjoys that,” observed Pete.
“Yes,” said Prentice. “It gives her a chance to know even more about her tenants.”
Mrs Bortz continued to stand there talking to Miss Chalmers, obviously delaying the young woman and obviously interested in the contents of the package.
Miss Chalmers shrugged finally, put her handbag on a table near the pool, and sat down to unwrap her parcel.
Alex Hassell came out of his apartment then, and he, too, stopped to watch Miss Chalmers.
“People in this building don’t have many secrets, do they?” said Pete.
Mr Prentice clucked with annoyance. “Miss Chalmers should not let that wretched Bortz woman impose on her,” he said. “She is much too good-natured.”
Miss Chalmers now had the wrappings off her package, and was lifting the lid off a box. The boys saw her smile. She picked something out of the box, popped it into her mouth, then quickly seized another object from the box.
“Chocolates,” said Jupiter.
“That woman would not have to swim so much if she could restrain herself in the presence of sweets,” said Mr Prentice.
Below, Miss Chalmers offered the candy box to Mrs Bortz, as if just remembering her manners. Then she stopped, suddenly putting her hand to her throat. The box dropped and chocolates bounced out.
“What . . . ?” gasped Pete.
Miss Chalmers lurched forward out of the chair in which she had been sitting. She bent double, then fell to the floor of the courtyard and lay there, writhing.
The Three Investigators raced to the door of the apartment and yanked it open.
“Miss Chalmers!” They heard Mrs Bortz’s voice, rough with alarm. “What is it?”
“It hurts!” cried Miss Chalmers. “Oh! Oh, it hurts!”
Jupe, Pete, and Bob raced down the stairs. By the time Prentice caught up with them in the courtyard, Jupiter was sniffing at a piece of the chocolate candy that had fallen from the box. Miss Chalmers was crying, and Mr Murphy had come bolting from his apartment to bend over her. Sonny Elmquist was also there, his apartment door standing open.
“What is it?” demanded Mrs Bortz. She seized Jupe’s arm and shook it roughly, causing him to crush the chocolate-covered candy in his hand. Jupe put the gooey mess to his nose, sniffed–and looked up in alarm.
“We’d better get an ambulance!” he cried. “There’s something in the candy that shouldn’t be there! I think she’s been poisoned!”
11
The Night Watch
“FORGET THE AMBULANCE!” said Murphy. “I’ll take her to the emergency room in my car!”
“I’ll go with you,” volunteered Mrs Bortz.
“Take the candy, too!” said Jupe. “So it can be analysed!”
Murphy got his car out of the garage, and Pete managed to get Miss Chalmers into the back seat. Mrs Bortz covered her with a blanket. Jupiter thrust the box of candy at Mrs Bortz. A second later Murphy had roared off.
“Poison!” said Mr Prentice. “Poor Miss Chalmers! Who on earth would want to poison her?”
“We can’t be sure anyone did, Mr Prentice,” Jupiter pointed out. “It’s just that the candy had a peculiar odour.”
But two hours later, Mr Prentice and the Three Investigators were sure. Murphy and Mrs Bortz returned from the emergency room at Central Hospital looking extremely grim.
“I have never been so insulted in my life!” said Mrs Bortz.
“What happened?” asked Prentice. He and the boys had just finished dinner when they heard Murphy’s car return, and they had rushed downstairs.
“The police!” announced Mrs Bortz. “They asked the most rude questions–how long I’d held the chocolates, for instance. The idea!”
“They were only trying to find out what happened,” said Murphy. He sounded tired.
“I would never poison anyone,” said Mrs Bortz. She stomped to her apartment, slammed the door, and locked it.
“What did happen, Murphy?” asked Alex Hassell. He had come from the laundry room.
“There was something poisonous in the chocolates,” said Murphy. “The lab at the hospital is doing an analysis now, to find out exactly what. Miss Chalmers had her stomach pumped and is now in a private room under observation. The police were called, of course, and they questioned Mrs Bortz about the package. I wish that woman wouldn’t take everything so personally. She acted as if they were accusing her of sending poisoned chocolates to Gwen. No one accused her of any such thing.”