“We know,” said Jupiter. “We have encountered some highly unusual circumstances–even bizarre ones. That’s our speciality. We have often been successful in cases where ordinary law enforcement people have failed.”
Mr. Sebastian nodded. “I believe you,” he said. “Young people have nimble minds, and they aren’t burdened with notions about what can happen and can’t.”
Bob leaned forward. “We’re interested in the blind beggar because we wonder whether he might have something to do with the robbery at the bank,” he said. “Were you in Santa Monica yesterday? Did you drop the wallet there? Or could he have picked your pocket?”
“No.” Mr. Sebastian leaned back in his chair. “I know I had the wallet yesterday morning. I remember putting it in my pocket when I left the house to go to Denicola’s. I never thought of it again until just now. Obviously I must have dropped it at Denicola’s, since that’s the only place I went yesterday, but it must have been an accident. I certainly didn’t get into any crowds where someone could have jostled me and picked my pocket–and I would have noticed a blind man.”
“Isn’t Denicola’s the place up the coast where they have a charter boat for sports fishermen?” said Pete.
Mr. Sebastian nodded. “I keep my speedboat there,” he said. “It’s closer than any of the marinas. When I want to use the boat, the boy who works for Mrs. Denicola rows me out to the buoy where it’s tied up. I had the boat out for a run yesterday. I must have dropped the wallet near the dock, or maybe in the parking lot there.”
“And the blind man picked it up,” said Pete.
“Then the blind man went to Santa Monica without saying anything to the people at Denicola’s about the wallet,” said Bob. “And he happened to be across the street from the bank at the exact moment the holdup men got in disguised as cleaning people. Maybe he even created a diversion by dropping his cup of coins so that the people at the bus stop wouldn’t guess what was going on.”
“The cup of coins may have been slippery in the rain,” said Mr. Sebastian. “Or the man may have been tired. It could mean nothing at all that he dropped the cup.”
“He ran away after he dropped the wallet and Bob went after him to give it back,” Jupe pointed out. “He ran again after he was hit by a car.”
“Not unusual,” said Mr. Sebastian. “He could have been in shock. He could have had a guilty conscience about carrying a wallet that wasn’t his. He could have been afraid of the police. The police are often hard on beggars. It doesn’t seem likely that he has any connection with a bank robbery, but why don’t you go to the police and tell them what you’ve just told me? Give them my name if you want to. I’ll be glad to co-operate in any way I can.”
“Of course,” said Jupiter, disappointed. “That’s the thing to do. And probably you’re right and the blind man happened to come along only by coincidence. I guess this case is over before it really began.”
“Looks that way,” said Mr. Sebastian. “Listen, I really appreciate your coming here with the wallet.” He was fumbling in the wallet now, frowning at the bills there.
“It was no trouble,” said Pete quickly.
“We were glad to do it,” Bob put in. “Please don’t even think about giving us anything.”
“Well then, can I reward you some other way?” asked Mr. Sebastian. “How about a ride in my speedboat? Want to go with me the next time I take it out?”
“Hey, could we?” cried Pete.
“You sure could. Just give me your telephone numbers so I can give you a call.”
“We can be here in half an hour,” said Pete happily.
He gave Mr. Sebastian his telephone number, and so did the other boys. When the Three Investigators left, the famous detective-turned-writer trailed them to the door and stood watching as they wheeled their bikes out on to the road.
“Nice guy,” said Pete when they were out of earshot.
“Yes, he is,” Jupe agreed. “He seemed sorry to see us go. I wonder if he isn’t kind of lonely out here in California. He’s lived almost all of his life in New York.”
“Anytime he wants company on his speedboat,” said Bob, “I’ll be ready. Wow! That’s really–”
Bob stopped. A small, tan sedan had appeared on the road. It passed the three boys at a sedate pace, then slowed at the entrance to Mr. Sebastian’s yard and turned in. An elderly man got out. He approached the steps of Charlie’s Place and said something to Mr. Sebastian, who still stood in the doorway.
The boys were too far away to hear the conversation, but they stayed on the road and watched. After a moment Mr. Sebastian stepped back. The newcomer went up the steps and disappeared into Charlie’s Place.
“Well, how about that!” exclaimed Bob. “This investigation isn’t over yet!”
“Why do you say that?” asked Pete.
“The security man,” said Bob. “That guy was the security man who let the robbers into the bank in Santa Monica. Now why would he come calling on Mr. Sebastian?”
4
The Investigators Find a Client
“IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!” said Jupiter. “Hector Sebastian must have more money than he can ever spend! His books are best sellers!”
“Okay!” said Bob. “But if he didn’t have anything to do with that bank robbery, why did the security man from the bank go to see him?”
“I don’t know,” said Jupe.
It was early afternoon, and the Three Investigators were in their secret Headquarters at The Jones Salvage Yard. The boys had waited in the road outside the old restaurant on Cypress Canyon Drive until the security man from the Santa Monica bank had left Hector Sebastian’s home and driven away. They had briefly considered talking to Sebastian again, and asking about the visit of the bank guard, but Jupiter vetoed the idea. He was reluctant to intrude a second time on the famous writer for no better reason than curiosity. So the boys had returned to Headquarters to discuss the events of the morning. They were now sitting around the old oak desk in the trailer. Bob was jotting down items in a notebook as he remembered them.
“The beggar limped last night after the accident, and Mr. Sebastian has a limp,” he said.
“Mr. Sebastian broke his leg in a dozen places,” Jupe pointed out. “His limp is permanent. Did the beggar limp last night before the accident?”
“I’m not sure,” said Bob.
“The limp could be a coincidence,” said Pete, “but what about the wallet? That’s another coincidence. And then the man who actually let the thieves into the bank goes calling on Mr. Sebastian. That’s a third coincidence, and three is too many.”
“Why don’t we go to the police?” said Bob. “It’s what Mr. Sebastian said we should do. And why would he say that if he’s involved with the robbery?”
“He had to say it,” Pete declared. “He’d be afraid not to. It’s what grownups always say.”
“I think the police would feel that our theories are far-fetched,” said Jupiter. “Perhaps they’d be right. It’s impossible to believe that Mr. Sebastian helped rob a bank. He has too much to lose. But there must be some connection between him and that event. Perhaps Mr. Bonestell can help us find it.”
“Bonestell?” said Bob.
Jupiter unfolded a newspaper which had been lying on the desk. It was the early edition of the Santa Monica Evening Outlook. He had purchased it from a rack when the boys stopped for pizza on their way home.
“Walter Bonestell is the name of the security man who let the robbers into the bank,” he said. “It’s here in the story on page one.” He reached for a stack of phone directories and found the one he wanted. “Hmmm . . . the Santa Monica telephone book lists a Walter Bonestell who lives at 1129 Dolphin Court. That’s just a few blocks up from the beach.”
“Jupiter!” The call came from outside the trailer. “Jupiter Jones, where are you? I want you!”
Jupe sighed. “Aunt Mathilda sounds annoyed. She hasn’t seen me since breakfast. By this time she must have a whole list of things for me to do.”
“My mother is probably looking for me, too,” said Pete.
“I was going to suggest that we visit Mr. Bonestell,” said Jupe. “Perhaps we could do that early this evening. Can you get away then? If we could meet in front of the Rocky Beach Market about seven, we could ride down the coast and see the security man on his own ground.”
“Sounds okay to me,” said Pete.
Bob grinned. “No school tomorrow. Shouldn’t be any problem. See you tonight.”
The boys left the trailer, and Jupiter spent the afternoon working in the salvage yard. That night, after an early supper with Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus, he was waiting with his bicycle in front of the market. Bob and Pete appeared at five minutes to seven, and in the dark the boys set out for Santa Monica.