The Mystery of the Scar-Faced Beggar by M. V. Carey

Author:M. V. Carey [Carey, M. V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780394849034
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

Attack!

WHEN JUPITER RAPPED at Mr. Bonestell’s door half an hour later, Shelby Tuckerman let him in. He was wearing a black turtleneck shirt and his wrap-around sunglasses.

“Ah, good!” said Shelby. “Our super-sleuth! Maybe you can think of something encouraging to say to Walter.”

Jupe felt a twinge of anger, but he said nothing. He followed Shelby through the dustless and orderly living room to the kitchen. Walter Bonestell was there, sitting at the table near the window and stirring a cup of coffee. Jupe sat down across from him. Shelby offered Jupe some coffee, which Jupe politely refused. “I don’t drink coffee,” he said.

“Of course,” said Tuckerman. “I forget. Kids don’t, do they, in this country.”

“We have some grape soda,” said Mr. Bonestell.

“I don’t need anything, thank you, Mr. Bonestell,” said Jupe. “I had lunch just a little while ago.”

“Aren’t kids always supposed to be stuffing themselves on junk food?” said Shelby. “Don’t tell me you’re an exception. You don’t look like one!”

Jupe gritted his teeth. He was overweight, and he was sensitive about it. But he wasn’t about to show his annoyance to Shelby.

“I suppose you do diet … now and then,” said Shelby.

Jupe held his tongue, and Shelby turned to the stove, where the kettle was beginning to sing. He made a cup of instant coffee for himself, then sat down between Mr. Bonestell and Jupe. There was a sugar bowl with a lid in the centre of the table. Shelby reached for the bowl and spooned a bit of sugar into his coffee.

“I hope you have some progress to report to Mr. Bonestell,” he said.

“Not really,” said Jupe. “We have a lead, but it may not pan out.”

“And if it does?” said Shelby.

“Who knows? Perhaps we’ll share it with the police.”

“The right thing to do, of course,” said Shelby. He drank his coffee down then, and got up to rinse his cup out at the sink. He went out and Jupe heard a car start in the driveway. Then Shelby drove past the kitchen window in a late-model sports car.

Mr. Bonestell sat brooding.

“When the police were here earlier, they weren’t accusing, were they?” asked Jupe.

Mr. Bonestell shook his head. “Not really. But they made me tell what happened three times. Three times, right from the beginning!”

He looked up at Jupe. “Do you suppose they were waiting for me to make a mistake? I … I don’t think I made any mistakes.”

“If you told your story just as it happened, how could you make mistakes?” asked Jupe reasonably. “Mr. Bonestell, are you sure you’re not getting upset about nothing? It was unfortunate that you were alone at the bank when the thieves came, but that’s only an unhappy accident. I’m sure the police understand that. They know that the robbery would have taken place no matter who was there. At least the robbers weren’t violent.”

“No, they weren’t,” said Mr. Bonestell. “Actually, they were quiet and polite. At least the one who did all the talking was polite.”

Jupe pricked up his ears.

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