The Mystery of the Missing Mermaid

  The Three Investigators

  in

  The Mystery of the Missing Mermaid

  Text by M. V. Carey

  Based on characters created by Robert Arthur

  Contents

  A Word from Hector Sebastian ………………………… 4

  1. Little Boy Lost ……………………………………. 5

  2. Mermaid Court …………………………………… 9

  3. Trouble! ………………………………………….. 14

  4. Sinister Suspicions …………………………………. 18

  5. A Difficult interview ……………………………….. 22

  6. Nasty Talk ……………………………………….. 27

  7. A Thief Takes a Dive ………………………………. 31

  8. The Slave Market …………………………………. 35

  9. A Case of Dramatics ………………………………. 39

  10. Underwater Terror! ………………………………. 44

  11. An Amazing Discovery ……………………………. 48

  12. Puzzling Answers ………………………………… 51

  13. A Hasty Departure ……………………………….. 56

  14. Jupe Causes a Fight ………………………………. 62

  15. Secret Treasure! ………………………………….. 67

  16. Jupe Spins a Theory ……………………………… 73

  2

  17. One Mystery Solved ………………………………. 78

  18. A Visit to the Police ……………………………… 81

  19. Up, Up, and Away ……………………………….. 86

  20. Mr. Sebastian Names the Tale ……………………… 91

  A Word from Hector Sebastian

  Welcome, mystery lovers!

  If you already know the Three Investigators, you won’t need this introduction. Just turn to chapter one and begin the adventure. It’s an exciting one, with bizarre events involving a troublesome child, a haunted inn, a disagreeable dog-lover, and, of course, a mermaid. You’ll learn of the long-ago death of a beautiful actress who …

  But I mustn’t give away too much at the beginning. I’m here to introduce, not to tell the story.

  The Three Investigators are a trio of young sleuths who live in Rocky Beach, a small community on the Pacific Coast. Jupiter Jones, First Investigator and the leader of the group, is a chubby, brainy boy who reads a lot and remembers everything he reads. Pete Crenshaw, the Second Investigator, is athletic, loyal, and also, if the truth be known, a bit wary of the tight corners Jupiter gets them into. Bob Andrews is the smallest of the three, but is just as daring and persistent as the others. He is in charge of Records and Research for the team.

  Now that you’ve met the boys, get ready for a story full of fireworks, secret treasure, disappearances, and amazing discoveries!

  HECTOR SEBASTIAN

  1

  Little Boy Lost

  “He’s gone! Todd’s gone! He’s completely disappeared!”

  The woman came running from the courtyard across the way. She was young and tan and handsome. She was also very frightened.

  “Mr. Conine, he’s gone again!” she cried. “I can’t find him anywhere!”

  The old gentleman had been sitting on a bench on the promenade, chatting pleasantly with three boys. Now he suddenly looked weary and irritated, and he made an impatient noise. “Blast it all!” he said under his breath. “Can’t that child stay put for two seconds?”

  He got up and went to the woman. “Don’t be so upset, Regina,” he said. “The day would hardly be complete if Todd didn’t run off at least once. Tiny will watch out for him.”

  “Tiny isn’t with him,” said the woman. “Tiny was asleep, and when I looked the other way for two seconds, Todd disappeared. He’s all alone!”

  At this, the three boys who had been sitting with the old man glanced at one another.

  “It’s your son who’s missing?” said the chubby one. “How old is he?”

  “He’s five,” said the woman, “and he’s not supposed to be out by himself.”

  “Now, he won’t have gone far,” said Mr. Conine. “We’ll look up and down Ocean Front, both of us. You go that way and I’ll head toward the marina. We’ll find him. You’ll see.”

  He patted her arm and she started off, looking doubtful. He watched her go, then set out in the opposite direction.

  “Five years old,” said the thin, bespectacled boy on the bench. “Hey, Jupe, this place is crawling with weird characters. If I had a five-year-old kid, I sure wouldn’t let him wander around here alone.”

  The chubby boy nodded and looked troubled. His name was Jupiter Jones, and he and his friends, Bob Andrews and Pete Crenshaw, had arrived in the colorful California town of Venice earlier that day. A project of Bob’s had brought them down the coast from their homes in Rocky Beach. After

  Little Boy Lost

  locking their bikes in the rack at a market, they had walked the length of Ocean Front, the broad paved promenade that ran along the beach. They had gaped at the carnival scene for which Venice was famous — the girls in leotards roller-skating on the cement walk, the riders skimming along the bike path next to it, the kite flyers and sunbathers, street musicians and ice cream vendors, jugglers, clowns, mimes, and fortune-tellers.

  Venice was a happy street festival, but there was a seamy side to it, too. Near Ocean Front the boys had seen a little group of vagabond men squatting on the sand, passing a bottle from one to another and muttering. Then they saw a young man arrested and taken away in handcuffs, charged with selling drugs. They also saw a shoplifter fleeing from one of the beachfront markets, his arms filled with packages of food, while the market owner shouted for the law.

  Now Jupiter recalled stories he had heard about Venice. The beach was supposed to be a haven for runaways, who lived under the piers. Gangs of unruly young thugs were said to prowl the streets nearby. It was no place for a tiny child to roam alone.

  Jupiter glanced toward his friends. They were watching him expectantly, waiting for him to make a decision.

  “It looks like a case for The Three Investigators!” Jupe said, and the others grinned in agreement.

  The Three Investigators were, of course, the three boys themselves. They had formed a junior detective agency and were always on the lookout for mysteries to solve. No case was too big – or too small – for them to handle.

  The boys set out along Ocean Front. They searched in a more methodical fashion than old Mr. Conine or the boy’s mother. They peered into doorways. They looked behind trash cans. They stopped to talk with the barefoot children who scampered along the beach. And they walked up the short lanes and paths that connected Ocean Front with the streets that ran parallel to it, Speedway and Pacific Avenue.

  It was on one of these byways that the Investigators saw a little boy crouching on a porch. He was having an earnest conversation with a ginger-colored cat. He had dark hair and dark eyes, like the woman from the courtyard.

  “Is your name Todd?” asked Jupiter.

  The little boy didn’t answer. He backed away and tried to wedge himself in behind the porch swing.

  “Your mother wants you,” said Jupiter.

  The child stared for a moment. Then he gave in. He came out from behind the swing and held out his hand. “Okay,” he said.

  Jupe took the little boy’s hand, and he and his fellow Investigators started

  6

  Little Boy Lost

  back to Ocean Front. When they came out onto the promenade, the first person they saw was Mr. Conine. He was hurrying along, breathless and worried. He pounced on Todd.

/>   “You naughty boy!” he cried. “Your poor mother is frantic!”

  The frantic mother appeared. First she hugged Todd. Then she gave him a little shake. “I’ll skin you alive if you ever go out again by yourself!” she warned.

  The threat did not impress Todd, but he knew enough to keep quiet. He waited patiently while the boys introduced themselves to his mother.

  Her full name was Regina Stratten. She was suddenly lighthearted and chatty as she swept the boys down the walk and into the courtyard from which she had emerged earlier. The courtyard was in the middle of a U-shaped group of buildings, with shops along the two arms. Regina Stratten turned into the first shop on the left, a bookstore called the Bookworm.

  Inside, the weedy, sixtyish man at the cash register was introduced as Regina’s father, Charles Finney. Mr. Finney and Regina ran the bookshop together, the boys learned, while Todd got underfoot and Tiny the dog kept guard.

  Tiny turned out to be a huge animal. He was part Great Dane and part Labrador. When he saw Todd, he wagged his tail and put his nose against Todd’s shoulder.

  “There now!” said Regina Stratten. “Look how Tiny missed you. Aren’t you ashamed?”

  Todd tried to look noble. “Tiny was havin’ his nap and I didn’t want to wake him, so I went without him.”

  “You do that again and I’ll wake you!” said his mother.

  Mr. Conine had been standing in the doorway watching the reunion. Now he was shouldered aside by a lean, middle-aged man who had handsome features, but who wore an expression of stony disapproval. The newcomer glared at Todd.

  “Are you the one who drew pictures on my window with toothpaste?” demanded the man.

  Todd backed away and got behind Tiny.

  “Todd!” Regina Stratten was completely exasperated. “Todd, how do you think of these things?”

  Mr. Finney sighed. “I was wondering what happened to the toothpaste.”

  “You do that again and I’ll call the police and have them arrest you,” threatened the man in the doorway.

  “Now, Mr. Burton,” said Regina, “let’s not make a federal case of this. I’m sure Todd is very sorry, and he’ll – ”

  7

  Little Boy Lost

  “He’ll keep away from my place, or I’ll know why,” said the man. Then he shook his head. “Something has got to be done about that child!” he declared.

  Tiny sensed that this man did not approve of his young master. He protested with a growl.

  “You, dog!” snapped the man. “You shut up!”

  Then, realizing that he was being ridiculous, the man stalked out of the shop.

  Todd looked at his mother. She wasn’t smiling. His grandfather wasn’t smiling either. Todd buried his face against Tiny’s furry shoulder.

  “Okay,” said his mother. “Enough with the injured innocence act, Todd. You watch your step from now on, you hear me? That’s our landlord, and we could get bounced right out of here if you make trouble for him.”

  Todd didn’t answer. There were some toy cars under a table at the back of the shop, and he went to play with them. Tiny followed.

  “He’ll be okay now,” Regina Stratten announced. “For at least fifteen minutes.”

  She thanked the boys again for finding Todd, and Mr. Finney urged them to stay for a while and have a soda. They accepted the invitation gladly, for they had work to do. They were helping Bob research a paper for his summer project in American civilization.

  “I’m going to write about urban areas that are undergoing changes,” Bob told Mr. Finney, “and I thought Venice would be a good place to begin.”

  Mr. Finney nodded, and old Mr. Conine practically crowed with delight.

  “Venice has been undergoing changes ever since it was built,” he declared. “It’s a crazy neighborhood, and it’s never dull.”

  “You’re coming back for the parade tomorrow, aren’t you?” asked Regina.

  “The Fourth of July parade? Well, sure, if you think we should see it,” said Bob.

  “You certainly do want to see it,” Mr. Finney told him. “It’s not like any parade you’ve ever seen. Anything can happen on the Fourth of July, and in Venice it usually does!”

  Bob turned to look questioningly at his friends. He saw Pete staring out through the shop window to Ocean Front. A woman in a purple gown was going by, having a lively conversation with herself.

  “That’s Miss Moonbeam,” said Mr. Conine.

  “She’s a regular here on the beach.”

  “I see,” said Pete. “Well, if it’s this wild on a regular weekday, I sure wouldn’t want to miss it on a holiday. I vote for the parade!”

  “I do too,” said Jupiter Jones. “In fact, I can hardly wait!”

  8

  2

  Mermaid Court

  The Three Investigators had hardly reached the beach the next day when they heard a sharp crack of sound — an explosion or a shot.

  Pete jumped. “What was that?”

  “Relax,” said Jupe. “It’s the Fourth, remember? That was just a firecracker.”

  Pete looked sheepish. “Oh, yeah. Of course. It’s only that it’s so crazy here.”

  And it was crazy, or at least incredibly crowded. The concrete promenade was thronged with skaters and pedestrians. Hundreds of children scampered through the mobs, and hundreds of old people sheltered under parasols and ate ice cream cones. Babies were pushed in strollers, and dogs trotted singly or in groups. Street musicians tootled and twanged, and in the lots that adjoined Ocean Front, strange-looking people peddled strange articles of clothing from the backs of vans.

  Bob had brought his camera. As the boys walked along he snapped pictures. He got a shot of Miss Moonbeam, the woman in the purple gown. She was dancing to the tune of an accordion player who was performing with a brightly colored parrot on each shoulder.

  Halfway down Ocean Front the boys saw a ragged man pushing a supermarket cart piled high with empty bottles and cans. A pair of mongrel dogs trotted behind him. When the man stopped at a trash basket to pick through the garbage, the dogs obediently stopped with him.

  “That’s Fergus,” said a voice behind the boys. It was Mr. Conine, the old man they’d met the day before. “Fergus is one of our special people,” he said. “One of those simple, good souls you hear about sometimes. Not very bright, perhaps, but there isn’t an ounce of harm in him, and he shares whatever he has with his dogs. Kids love him. Watch, and you’ll see.”

  The boys watched as the man named Fergus plodded across the walk to a bench near a beachfront cafe. He sat down and took out a harmonica. His

  Mermaid Court

  dogs sat, too, facing him, ears up.

  Fergus began to play. The music was soft at first, almost too soft to be heard, but suddenly children started to appear. They came quietly in twos and threes and crouched in a semicircle around the man.

  The music wasn’t familiar, yet it was pleasant, and the Investigators found themselves listening almost as intently as the children.

  The little concert lasted only a few minutes. Then Fergus put his harmonica away and went shuffling off with his market cart and his dogs. The children drifted away.

  “Does that always happen?” Jupiter asked. “Do the children always come?”

  “Always,” said Mr. Conine. “Fergus is our local Pied Piper.”

  The boys walked on and Mr. Conine kept pace with them. Firecrackers kept exploding on the beach and even on the promenade. As the boys neared the bookshop they saw Todd come to the front of the courtyard to watch the crowd. Tiny the dog was with him. The dog walked with stiff-legged care, and the boys realized that he was quite old.

  “Hey,” said Pete. “That kid is out by himself again.”

  “He’s all right,” said Mr. Conine. “Tiny is with him. That dog thinks he’s the greatest thing since puppy biscuits. He wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on Todd. Now if he could only keep Todd out of trouble … ”

  He let the sentence trail off. Bob said, “Todd gets into trouble a lot, I’ll bet.”

  “He does,” said Mr. Conine. “He’s lively and imaginat
ive, and he gets bored sticking close to the bookshop. Regina’s a widow, and she can’t afford a sitter. So Todd stays here all day, chasing the neighborhood pets and making up games. Sometimes he’s Superman and other times he’s Luke Skywalker. I’m sure his mother is looking forward to September, when he starts school.”

  The little boy seemed to tire of things quickly. The Investigators saw that he had lost interest in the street scene and was now bouncing a ball against a decayed, weather-beaten building at the rear of the courtyard. The old, three-story structure looked a bit odd with a new wing of shops built out from it on either side and a newly landscaped court in front of it.

  “What’s that old building?” Bob asked Mr. Conine. “It looks as if it has a history.”

  It does indeed. That’s the old Mermaid Inn. Because of it, this whole courtyard complex is called Mermaid Court. If you’re doing a project on a changing neighborhood, you should really take some pictures of the inn.“

  As Bob snapped a few pictures Pete and Jupe studied the courtyard, which they had not taken the time to explore the day before. The court opened to the west, giving the old hotel a clear view of the ocean. Along the

  10

  Mermaid Court

  court’s north side was a long two-story building with ground-floor shops — first the Bookworm, then a kite store called High Old Time, then a smaller shop called the Rock Hound. It had rocks and minerals and hand-made silver jewelry in the window. In the corner between the rock store and the hotel, a staircase led up to the entrance to another shop. This was the Mermaid Gallery, directly over the rock store. “The charming Mr. Burton is proprietor of the gallery,” said Mr. Conine. “You had the pleasure of meeting him yesterday, when he was yelling at Todd. He owns Mermaid Court, including the hotel. He lives in the apartment next to the gallery, over the bookshop.”

  The boys then turned to look at the rest of the courtyard buildings. The Mermaid Inn covered the entire eastern end of the court. Then came another two-story wing of shops and apartments, enclosing the south side. Closest to the hotel was a large cafe called the Nut House, and at the ocean end was Some Warm Fuzzies, a shop that sold yarns and weaving supplies.