The man disappeared into an alley behind a row of stores. Bob followed. It was so dark that he stumbled, his hands out in front of him to feel for obstacles. At the end of the alley he came out into a little yard. A light bulb burned over the back door of a building, shining on a garbage bin and a cardboard carton that was slowly disintegrating in the rain. Bob saw a second passageway that led back out towards Wilshire, but he saw no sign of the beggar. The man had vanished!
2
The Lost Wallet
“HE COULDN’T REALLY BE BLIND,” said Bob. “How could a blind man get away so fast?”
“Perhaps a blind man can move quite rapidly when he’s familiar with a place,” said Jupiter Jones. “And, of course, a blind person is used to navigating in the dark.” Jupe spoke in the careful, somewhat fussy way that was characteristic of him.
It was the next morning, and Bob was with his friends Jupiter and Pete Crenshaw in Jupe’s outdoor workshop at The Jones Salvage Yard. The rain had passed. The morning was clear and fresh, and the boys were reviewing the events of the evening before. The wallet that the beggar had dropped lay on Jupe’s workbench.
“Even if he was a phony, why would he run?” said Bob. “He acted as if he were scared of us.”
Bob stopped and thought for a moment. “I guess none of us were acting as if we had much sense,” he said. “The lady who was waiting with me at the bus stop just disappeared while I was in the alley. I suppose the bus came and she automatically got on it. And the driver of the car that hit the blind man drove off when I told him the man was gone. And I stood there like a dope with the wallet. I should have given the driver the blind man’s name, and my name too.”
“You were in shock,” said Jupe. “In emergencies, people often behave in odd ways.”
While listening to Bob, Jupe had been tinkering with an old television set that his Uncle Titus had brought into the salvage yard the week before. Jupe had replaced worn tubes with new ones and had made several adjustments to the inside of the set. Now he put the television upright on the workbench and plugged in the set.
There was a promising hum. “Aha!” said Jupe.
“You’ve done it again,” said Pete, in mock admiration.
“Perhaps,” said Jupe. He twisted a dial.
The three boys grinned. Jupiter Jones was something of a genius when it came to repairing things or making things out of salvaged parts. He had put together three walkie-talkie radios which the boys used with great enjoyment. He had repaired the old printing press that now stood in one corner of the workshop. He was also responsible for the periscope that was part of the equipment in Headquarters–an old mobile home trailer which was hidden away near Jupe’s workshop, concealed by piles of junk and all but forgotten by Jupe’s Uncle Titus and Aunt Mathilda.
Jupiter’s aunt and uncle were aware that Jupe, Bob and Pete were interested in crime and detection. They knew that the boys called themselves The Three Investigators. But they did not know how really active the boys were in the field. The mobile home had been fitted with all sorts of equipment to help the Investigators solve the puzzles that came their way. It held a small crime lab, complete with fingerprint equipment and a microscope. The boys did their own film developing in the photographic darkroom. A filing cabinet was filled with notes on their cases, and there was a telephone which they paid for with money they earned helping out around the salvage yard.
It appeared that a television set would now become part of the furnishings in Headquarters. The set on Jupe’s workbench squawked to life, and a picture flickered on to the screen and steadied.
“. . . coming to you with a mid-morning news-break,” said an announcer.
A newscaster appeared on the screen and wished everyone a good morning. He then said that the latest Pacific storm had passed through Los Angeles, and that Southern California could look forward to several days of clear weather.
“There have been mudslides in the hills above Malibu,” said the newsman. “And in Big Tujunga Canyon, residents are mopping up after yesterday’s flash flood.
“On the local crime front, our remote unit is on the scene of a daring robbery that took place at the Santa Monica Thrift and Savings Company less than two hours ago.
“Thieves entered the bank yesterday evening disguised as the cleaning crew. They imprisoned the security guard in the bank’s board room, and were waiting this morning when employees reported to work. When the time lock was released at eight forty-five this morning, Samuel Henderson, executive vice-president of the bank, was forced to open the vault. The holdup men escaped with approximately a quarter of a million dollars in cash and an unknown amount in valuables from the safe-deposit boxes. Stay tuned for additional details when we return at noon.”
“There!” said Jupe. He switched the set off.
“Good grief!” exclaimed Bob. “The Santa Monica Thrift and Savings! I was right across the street from that bank last night when the blind man . . . when . . .”
Bob stopped. He looked rather pale. “I must have seen one of the holdup men,” he said.
Pete and Jupe waited, watching Bob.
“Yes, sure I did,” he said. “From the bus stop I could look across the street right into the bank. I saw the cleaning people leave and go up in the elevator. Then the man came back–the cleaning man–and he knocked at the bank door and the security man opened it.”
“He came back?” said Jupe. “The same man?”
“Well, I suppose . . . I suppose . . .” Bob looked puzzled. “I don’t know,” he said. “The blind man dropped his cup and his money rolled all over the place. So the lady and I picked it up, and after we gave the cup back to the blind man, that’s when I saw the cleaning man at the bank door.”
“So it could have been a different man?” said Jupe.
Bob nodded.
“What a scheme!” cried Pete. “The cleaning people finish their work and go upstairs. Then somebody who’s dressed up to look like a cleaning man comes and knocks at the door. The security guy lets him in and whammo! The security guy winds up stashed in a back room and the crooks are inside the bank and they’re home free. No alarms. Just sit and wait for the employees to show up.”
“Why sure!” said Bob. “It must have been that way.”
“Did you see where the cleaning man came from?” asked Jupe. “I mean, whether he came into the lobby from the elevator or the street?”
Bob shook his head. “The guy was already at the bank door in the lobby when I noticed him. I thought he’d come back down in the elevator. But I guess he could have come in from the street, if he wasn’t one of the cleaners in the building.”
“Which opens up an interesting line of thought,” said Jupiter. He picked up the wallet that Bob had left on the workbench. “Say the man came down the street. The blind man dropped his money just as the bogus cleaning man was approaching the bank door. You and the woman at the bus stop bent down to pick up the money. Anyone would do the same. And you were so occupied with the task that you didn’t see the robber enter the lobby. Does that suggest anything?”
Bob gulped. “The blind man was a lookout!”
Jupe examined the wallet. “This is very nice,” he said. “It’s made of ostrich skin and it came from Neiman-Marcus. That’s one of the most expensive stores in the city.”
“I didn’t notice that,” said Bob. “I only looked to see if the blind man had a telephone number in it so I could call him. But he doesn’t.”
Jupe looked through the wallet. “One credit card, twenty dollars in cash, and a temporary driver’s licence. Now what would a blind man be doing with a driver’s licence?”
Bob nodded. “Right. Of course. He was faking. He’s not blind.”
“Hector Sebastian,” said Jupe, reading from the licence. “According to this, he lives at 2287 Cypress Canyon Drive in Malibu.”
“Malibu is a nice place,” said Pete. “Maybe being a beggar pays better than you’d think.”
“It may not be the beggar’s address,” Jupe pointed out. “Perhaps the man is a pickpocket and he stole the wallet. Or perhaps he just found it somewhere. Have you looked in the telephone directory for Hector Sebastian, Bob?”
“He’s not listed,” Bob answered.
Jupiter stood up. “We may have something here that would interest the police,” he said. “On the other hand, the fact that a blind man dropped this wallet may mean nothing at all. The fact that the blind man ran away may mean nothing. But Cypress Canyon Drive isn’t very far from here. Shall we investigate before we decide what action to take?”