The boys looked at Mr. Bonestell, and then at his orderly kitchen. Jupe wanted to smile. He could not imagine Mr. Bonestell plotting a crime, and he could not believe thieves had ever conspired in this place. The house was so neat that it managed to have no character at all.
“Oh, gosh!” said Shelby. “My groceries!”
He disappeared into the service porch, and the boys heard the back door slam as he went outside.
“Why not begin at the beginning, Mr. Bonestell?” said Jupiter. “If you’ll tell us everything you remember about the robbery, perhaps you’ll recall some detail that you may have overlooked earlier.”
Bonestell did not look hopeful. “Sebastian said it’s harder to prove that a man is innocent–if he has no alibi, that is–than to prove that he’s guilty.”
“Well, are you sure you have no alibi?” said Jupe. “Stop and think about it. If you were one of the robbers, some of your time in the last few days would have been taken up with planning the robbery. And you would have to know the other robbers. Can you give an account of your activities for, well, for the last two weeks?”
Mr. Bonestell shook his head sadly.
“What about your friend Shelby? I take it he lives here. Can he tell much about what you’ve been doing for the past few days?”
Again Mr. Bonestell shook his head. “Shelby rooms here, but he isn’t home much. He’s a field representative for Systems TX-4. That’s a computer company. He travels around advising companies that are putting in computer systems. He was gone all last week and over the weekend. A firm in Fresno is buying the TX billing system and he was working with them. He got home just a while ago. Even when he’s home, he doesn’t pay much attention. When I was with TX-4, he seemed much friendlier than he does now.”
“You worked for Systems TX-4?” said Jupe.
“That’s right, after they took over Jones-Templeton Office Machines.” For the first time, a hint of pride showed in Mr. Bonestell’s face. “I was with Jones-Templeton for over thirty years,” he said. “I started there right after World War Two. I was in the mail room at first, and then I went into purchasing and worked my way up. At one time we had twelve people in the department, and I was second in command. That was while the kids were growing up’. It was a good place to be, and my kids had a good life. Stable, you know. Not all that moving around that some men get into.”
Mr. Bonestell got up and went to the living room. He returned after a moment with a framed photograph. It was a picture of himself–a younger self with dark, thick hair. He was posed with a round-faced, fair-haired woman and two children.
“My wife, Eleanor,” said Mr. Bonestell, indicating the woman. “We were married the year after the war ended. She died four years ago of congestive heart failure. She was very young to go that way.”
He stopped and cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry,” said Jupiter.
“Yes. Well, these things happen. But it was lonely here with the children gone. My son is a production co-ordinator at Elliott Electronics in Sunnydale, and Debra is married now. Her husband is an insurance adjuster. They live in Bakersfield and they have two children.
“So that’s a lot to be grateful for–to raise two kids and have them turn out well. But I wish they lived closer. They don’t, though. They won’t live at home again, so while I was still at TX-4 I started looking for someone to help with expenses. Shelby–Shelby Tuckerman–needed a place to live, so we got together. . . .”
The back door opened and Shelby came in carrying a brown paper bag. He went to the refrigerator and began to store away packages of frozen foods.
“About what happened last night,” said Jupe after a moment. “Would you mind going over it for us?”
“If you think it will help,” said Mr. Bonestell. “There wasn’t anything unusual at first. I’ve had the job almost a year. I go in at noon and take care of some odds and ends–nothing important. I only took the job because time hung heavy after I was . . . uh . . . retired from Systems TX-4. I was replaced by a computer.
“So now I’m sort of a uniformed odd-job man at the bank. After the bank closes I supervise the cleaning people. They don’t take long. They’re usually finished by six. After I let them out and lock up after them, I check the place one last time to make sure everything is in order. Then I leave. There’s no night security man at the bank. With a time lock on the vault, they don’t need one. No one could open the vault without setting off an alarm that would bring every cop in the city.”
“That’s why the crooks kept you prisoner all night,” said Bob. “They couldn’t move while the time lock was in operation.”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Bonestell. “There were three men, and of course they knew the system. They must have been watching and waiting someplace until the cleaning people left and went up in the elevator. Then one of them came to the door and rapped. There isn’t too much light in the lobby, and when I looked out through the door I saw a man in bib overalls with a lot of shaggy grey hair and a cap pulled down over his eyes. I thought it was Rolf coming back for something. I opened the door and he came in, and then I saw it wasn’t Rolf. He had a gun, so it was too late to do anything.
“Two other people came right away. They had wigs and fake beards and fake moustaches. They made me go back to the board room where I couldn’t be seen from the street. They kept me covered all night, and they didn’t even go near the vault. When the staff started to arrive in the morning, they herded them into the board room. And when Mr. Henderson came in–he’s the one who has the combination and opens the vault–they knew who he was. They made him open the vault as soon as the time lock went off.”
Shelby Tuckerman sat down next to Pete. “I think someone in the neighbourhood’s been spying on you,” he told Mr. Bonestell. “Either that or one of those old codgers at the senior citizens’ centre decided that the bank would be a pushover.”
Mr. Bonestell looked annoyed. “Shelby, I would recognize a neighbour or a friend. I did not know those men last night. They were strangers.”
Shelby got up and put a kettle on the stove. “They were disguised, weren’t they?” he said. “I don’t think it would hurt if the boys kept an eye on the neighbours. They aren’t really a superior lot.”
“Are they supposed to be superior?” demanded Mr. Bonestell.
Jupe leaned forward. “Of course you don’t want to be suspicious of your neighbours,” he said, “but it does seem that someone is thoroughly familiar with the routine at the bank. Are you sure no one has been watching you in recent days? Has anyone been asking questions about your job?”
“No.” Mr. Bonestell looked completely miserable.
The kettle began to boil, and Shelby spooned instant coffee into a cup and poured hot water over it. He came back to the table and sat sipping the black liquid, looking from Jupe to Mr. Bonestell and then back again.
“Perhaps we will have to prove that someone else is guilty before we can prove that you’re innocent,” said Jupe. “We may have a clue.”
“A clue?” said Mr. Bonestell eagerly. “What is it?”
“At this point we can’t be sure that it is a clue,” said Jupe. “It’s probably best if we don’t discuss it with you. We’ll investigate, and we’ll call you in a day or two. Meanwhile, if you notice any unusual behaviour or any extreme curiosity among your acquaintances, let us know. You have our number on the back of our card.”
“Yes, of course.”
The boys left the house. When the door had closed behind them, Bob said, “A clue? You mean that wallet? Is that the clue?”
“A very slim clue,” said Jupe, “but it’s all we have. I think we have already concluded that neither Mr. Sebastian nor Mr. Bonestell is a criminal. But if the blind man had any connection with the robbery, Mr. Sebastian may well have come into contact with a crook. His wallet is the link, so it’s worth following up.”
“If you say so,” said Pete. “Just try to keep us out of places where people pull guns on us, okay?”
6
The Frightened Dreamer
BOB ANDREWS LEFT Rocky Beach before nine the next morning. He rode his bike south along the Coast Highway, bound for Santa Monica. He was to ask in stores near the Thrift and Savings Company if the blind man had returned to the neighbourhood since the robbery. Then he had to return to Rocky Beach to put in some hours at the library, where he had a part-time job shelving books.