Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Ninety-Five
Jack nudged me in the ribs.
“Wake up,” he whispered. “We’re
here.”
I had dozed off.
Jack had cracked open the door of
the closet, so that I could see out into the cabin and through it to the window
beyond. The moon had risen higher in the sky, and outside on the deck I could
hear a scraping and then a splash as if someone was setting the anchor.
“Are we at the estate?” I asked
Jack.
“I think so.”
“You’ll come along with us,
Atwood,” I heard Aaron Dietz say. “Rita, you stay here and guard the boat. If
you see anyone watching or acting suspiciously, blow the whistle two short
blasts.”
“I don’t want to stay here
alone,” the girl complained. “I’m afraid.”
“You’ll do as I say,” the man
ordered. “Get started, George. It’s two o’clock now. We won’t have many hours
before daylight.”
I had made one small error in my
plans. I had failed to consider that the men might leave a guard on the
cruiser. With the girl posted as a lookout, we would remain prisoners in the
cabin.
“We have to get out of here now
or never,” I whispered to Jack. “What shall we do about Rita?”
“We’ll rush her and take a chance
on the whistle.”
We waited a minute or two to give
the group of men guarding Atwood time to gain a small lead, then we slipped out
of our hiding place and crawled noiselessly up the steep stairway. Rita was a
shadowy figure in the bow of the boat.
“Now!” commanded Jack in a
whisper.
Jack and I crept across the deck.
We snuck up behind Rita and grabbed her before she could turn her head. Jack
grasped her arms while I clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent a scream.
Although the girl fought fiercely, she was no match for us both.
I stripped off my sash and used
it as a gag. We used a coil of rope from the deck of the cruiser to bind Rita’s
wrists and ankles, then carried her down into the cabin.
“I hate to leave her like that,”
I said as we went back on deck.
“Don’t waste your sympathy,” Jack
said. “She doesn’t deserve it. Anyway, she won’t be tied up like that for long.
We must bring the police, now.”
“The Castle is the closest
telephone. That is about a half mile away.”
“It won’t take us long to cover
the distance,” Jack said, as he helped me down from the boat.
“You go alone,” I urged. “I’ll
stay here and keep watch.”
“I don’t like to leave you.”
“Go on.” I gave him a little
push. “And hurry!”
After Jack had reluctantly left,
I plunged into the trees, carefully picking my way along the path which led to
the lily pool. I stopped at the edge of the clearing. The three men and Thomas
Atwood stood silhouetted in the bright moonlight. Atwood was still handcuffed,
guarded by Aaron Dietz, who allowed his companions to do all the hard labor.
George and John had broken open
the door of the stone tower and started the motor of the pump. It was clear
they intended to drain the pool. I wondered what the men would do when they
discovered that the tank contained a very live alligator.
But gradually, as the pool
drained lower and lower, it struck me as odd that the men did not notice the
alligator. It then occurred to me that the Furstenberg’s gardener had probably
succeeded in getting rid of the beast since my visit to the garden earlier in
the day.
I was not terribly concerned.
Even if the alligator was gone, I thought there would still be ample time for
the police to arrive before the pool was drained completely. However, as the
moon waned, I became alarmed at how fast the pool was emptying. Jack would not
have as long to return with the police as I had anticipated. Finally, one of
the men shut off the motor in the stone tower.
“There, she’s empty!”
He jumped down into the tank.
“Here it is, just as he said! The
ring to the trap! Give us some help, George.”
With Aaron Dietz and the
bewildered bridegroom watching from above, the two men raised the heavy block
of cement. I crept closer, not wanting to miss out on the excitement. I stood
in the shadow of a tree scarcely fifteen yards from where the men worked.
“A stairway leads down into an
underground vault!” John cried exultantly. “We’ve found the hiding place of the
gold.”
“Toss me your flashlight, Aaron,”
called George. “We’ll soon have all of the treasure out of here.”
Things were progressing too
quickly. Why didn’t Jack come with the police? As soon as the men carried their
burden of gold to the boat, they would discover Rita, bound and gagged. Then
they would suspect that a trap had been laid, and who knew what horrible fate
would befall Thomas Atwood. Why didn’t Jack hurry?
George and John descended into
the underground vault. As the light reappeared, I was dumbfounded to see that
the men were empty-handed.
“Nothing down there,” George
reported in disgust. “Nothing!”
“Then we’ve been tricked!” Aaron
Dietz turned furiously on his prisoner. “You’ll pay for this!”
“I thought the gold was here,”
answered Thomas Atwood.
“Lock him up in the vault and
start the water running,” John said. “It’s a good way to be rid of him.”
The suggestion seemed to please
Aaron Dietz. He nodded and the other two seized Atwood and dragged him down
into the pool. They shoved him into the vault, but before the two men could
lower the heavy cement block into place, they were halted by a signal from
Dietz.
“Wait!”
In my worry over the fate of
Thomas Atwood, I had moved closer to the pool. Without realizing that I was
exposing myself, I stood so that my shadow fell clearly across the open space.
Before I realized that I had put myself in danger, Dietz hurled himself at me
and seized me roughly by the arms.
I struggled to free myself but
could not.
“You were spying on us!”
“I—I was just watching. Don’t you
remember me? I’m the woman who pulled you out of the river when your car went
over the drawbridge.”
The man looked closely at me, and
for an instant, I hoped that he would recall me with gratitude. But his face
hardened again, and he said unfeelingly: “You know entirely too much. This is
one story you will never write for your father’s paper. Your curiosity has
proven your undoing. You share the fate of your very good friend.”
With a sinking heart, I realized
that Dietz knew who I was and had already guessed my part in the trick played
on him.
“Down you go!” Dietz said as he
dragged me toward the pool. I screamed like a banshee. He clamped his hand over
my mouth. I bit at it savagely, but my efforts to free myself were useless.
Dietz shoved me headlong down the
stone stairway into the pit.
“Now scream as much as you like,”
Aaron Dietz shouted after me. “No one will hear you.”
The men dropped the heavy
concrete slab, closing off the opening back into place.
I picked myself up from the
steps. I must remain calm, I told myself. I must think things through. There
was no profit in panicking.
“Mr. Atwood! Mr. Atwood!” I
yelled.
“Here at the bottom of the
steps,” he answered with a groan.
“Are you hurt?”
“Only bruised. But my hands are
still in cuffs.”
I limped down the stairway and
helped the man to his feet.
“We’re done for now,” Atwood
said. “No one will ever look for us down in this vault. And our cries will
never be heard.”
“Don’t give up,” I said. “We may
be able to lift the stone. Let’s try.”
We went back up the stairs and
tried to raise the concrete slab, but despite our best efforts, it would not
budge.
“Listen!” cried Atwood suddenly.
I heard water running into the
empty pool.
“In an hour’s time, no one will
ever guess that a hidden vault lies beneath the tank!” Atwood groaned. “We’re
doomed!”
“If we can hear the water
splashing above us, our voices might carry!” I reasoned. “Let’s yell for help!”
We shouted until our voices failed
us. Then, completely discouraged, we sagged down on the stairway to rest.
“Nothing went as I planned,” I
said. “I thought the gold was hidden in this vault. If the men had found it,
they would have spent hours removing the loot to their boat. Jack would have
come with the police while they were still doing it, and everything would have
been all right.”
I realized that Thomas Atwood was
no longer listening to me. He struggled to his feet and pressed his ear against
the trapdoor.
“The water has stopped running!”
“Are you sure?” I jumped to my
feet and stood beside him, listening.
“Yes, and I hear voices!”
We shouted once more. I was not
sure if it was my hopeful imagination, but it seemed that someone answered. As
we continued our frantic shouting, there was a scraping on the concrete above
our heads.
“Stand away,” I heard a muffled voice order.
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