Megan Stine - Murder To Go

• Название: Murder To Go
• Автор: Megan Stine
• Жанр: Детские остросюжетные
• Год: 1989

The taste of terror — in a feast of mystery

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“Who would just sit in a car and not help a driver who went off the road?” Jupe asked, and then answered himself. “Perhaps it was someone who was chasing Juliet Coop — and didn’t care if she died in that crash!”

“It’s a good theory,” said Chief Reynolds. “You have any evidence?”

“We’re working on it,” Jupe said, standing up to leave. “Come on, Bob.”

Chief Reynolds called to them before they got to the door. “Don’t work too hard,” he said. “As soon as the Chicken King’s daughter wakes up, we’ll get the whole story.”

It was true, Jupe realized. When Juliet woke up, she could tell them whether someone had been following her before the crash. Maybe the other car had even tried to force her off the road. And maybe the driver of the other car was the person who was going to poison the chicken!

Juliet had all the answers in her sleepy head, and the Three Investigators would just have to wait.

But the real question was, would Juliet tell the truth when she woke up? If her father was somehow involved in this poison chicken thing, would she lie to protect him?

As Jupe and Bob left police headquarters and got into Bob’s car, Jupe’s stomach growled audibly.

“You know, Jupe, it’s great that you’re sticking to your diet and everything. But no fried foods and then eating melon at every meal? It’s weird,” Bob said.

“Easy for you to say. Do you have a single shirt with a tag that says Extra-Large?”

Bob recognized Jupe’s “discussion closed” tone of voice. “Okay. Sorry,” he said. “So what’s your plan — now?”

“It’s obvious that we have only one route to follow,” Jupe answered. “Who was driving the car that was following Juliet Coop? It could have been one of the three people who visited her in the hospital last night.”

“You mean Sean Fellows, Maria Gonzales, and that guy Kelly calls Mr. Sweetness,” said Bob.

“Yes. And we’ve got to find out more about Michael Argenti, too — Big Barney’s rival,” Jupe said. “I can handle that with the computer back in Headquarters. I’ll tap into DataServe and search their business files for everything about Michael Argenti and Roast Roost. The Wall Street Journal is in their database. It should be informative. While I’m doing that, I want you to find out where Sean Fellows was last night before he came to the hospital.”

“Can’t handle it,” Bob said apologetically. “Sax needs me at the agency.”

“All right, then call Pete at the hospital and get him to take up the slack.”

“No problem. But what about Maria and Mr. Sweetness?”

“I’m not too worried about Maria,” said Jupe. “She doesn’t seem to have any motive whatsoever. But I’ll call her and check her out. As for Mr. Sweetness, we’ll just have to wait until we cross paths.”

Just then Jupe’s stomach growled again. So Bob drove him to a supermarket to pick up another ten pounds’ worth of watermelon. Then he dropped Jupe off at The Jones Salvage Yard and drove on to work. From there Bob called Pete at the hospital and gave him the assignment: Check out Juliet’s ex-boyfriend, Sean Fellows.

But by the time Pete pulled himself away from Kelly, it was dark — too dark to find Sean’s address. So it wasn’t until Sunday that Pete pulled up in front of 23 Laurel Street, where Sean lived.

Sean Fellows’ house was in a quiet and pretty neighborhood of Melton, a few miles north of Rocky Beach. The street was lined with small white wooden houses that had wide front porches and small front yards.

There was an old Bonneville convertible parked in front of Sean Fellows’ house. And sitting on the porch railing was a guy with a blond flattop. He wore faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt with a leather vest. He jumped to his feet the moment Pete stepped into his yard.

“Come on!” he shouted, motioning with one hand to Pete and holding the other behind his back. “Make my day!” As soon as Pete was close to the porch, the hidden hand came out — holding a motorcycle chain!

What was going on? Pete’s mind raced as his heart started thumping. Suddenly, for no reason, some maniac was coming at him with a vengeance. The guy had the motorcycle chain wrapped a couple of times around his hand, but its long tail swung freely. Pete froze in his tracks. Should he try some of his new karate moves? Or back off?

“Just you and me this time,” the guy called to Pete. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arm swung, and the tail of the vicious chain clattered and ripped into the wooden porch railing.

Forget the karate, thought Pete. He started to back away.

“I’m going to tear you open!” the guy yelled, jumping off the porch. He wasn’t very big. In fact, he was much shorter and smaller built than Pete. But his voice was full of anger and he was swinging the chain wildly.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Pete said as he backed farther away. The guy kept coming, his black leather boots eating up the ground between them. His shoulders hulked like a gorilla’s.

“I don’t know what you think, but I’m looking for Sean Fellows,” Pete said desperately. “I’m a friend of Juliet Coop’s.”

The black boots stopped walking, the chain stopped swinging.

“For real?” asked the guy.

Pete nodded his head but kept his fist clenched, ready to fight.

“Oh, well, uh, sorry,” the guy said, letting out his breath. His whole body seemed to relax. “I’m Sean Fellows. I’ve been having some trouble here with a bunch of punk vandals. One of them just called and threatened to steal my car.”

Sean motioned to the old beat-up Bonneville parked on the street. Pete stared at it.

“Maybe you should let him have it,” Pete finally said with a laugh. “I mean, the tires are flat, it’s leaking oil all over the ground. ”

“Yeah, and besides that, the battery’s been dead for two weeks!” Sean said, laughing too. “But I’m just sick of taking it from punks, you know what I mean?” Then he noticed his porch railing. “Don’t tell me I destroyed my porch for nothing. Hey — how do you know Juliet?”

“Well, I don’t really,” Pete admitted. “She’s in the hospital bed next to my girlfriend, Kelly.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sean said as he led Pete into his house. Now that he wasn’t swinging a chain, Sean just seemed like a nice, average college student whose apartment had more posters than furniture.

“So why were you at the hospital so late Friday night?” Pete asked.

“Maria — Juliet’s roommate in college — called me and said Juliet had been in an accident,” Sean said.

“We only broke up a few months ago, Julie and I. I guess I’m not over her yet. I had to see if she was okay. Is she? Did she wake up yet?”

“Still out,” Pete said. “At least, she’s sleeping most of the time. The doctors say she needs a lot of rest.”

Sean eyed Pete sideways for a moment. “Tell me something,” Sean said, suddenly realizing that Pete was a complete stranger. “If you don’t even know Juliet, what are you doing here, asking questions?”

“Kelly, my girlfriend, thinks something strange is going on,” Pete said. “So I’m just checking it out. What do you know about Big Barney?”

“Big Barney? We’d still be going together if it weren’t for him.”

“What’s that mean?” Pete asked.

“Her dad and I argued all the time,” Sean said. “I’m a vegetarian, you know. No meat, no fish, no chicken. I don’t believe in going around killing animals — or in anybody getting rich from slaughtering them. Barney hated my guts and he wasn’t quiet about it. After a while, Juliet and I started fighting about it too. So when she said she was going to work for her father after graduation, that was about it.”

“One last question and then I’ll get outta here,” Pete said. “How’d you get into the hospital at four A.M.?”

“I lied to the nurse, told her Julie and I were engaged,” Sean admitted. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

Later that afternoon in The Jones Salvage Yard, Pete retold Sean Fellows’ story to Jupe and Bob. As he talked, Pete stooped down into the engine in the back of Bob’s VW. The fan belt was ancient and needed replacing. Pete was putting a new one on. Once the belt was positioned on the pulleys, he checked the tension by pressing on it with his thumb.

“It’s got to give about a half inch,” Pete explained. “And we’ll have to tighten it up again after two hundred miles, ’cause these suckers stretch.”

Ignoring the fan belt, Jupe said, “To me, the most interesting thing in Pete’s account is that Sean Fellows owns a car.”

“Jupe,” Bob said, “sometimes I don’t get you. Pete just told us a tragic story of love destroyed because of. of. dietary differences! And you shoot back with an off-the-wall comment like that.”

“Remember our goal,” Jupe said. “We are pursuing a suspect who was chasing Juliet Coop in a car.”

“Forget Sean’s car,” Pete said. “The tires are flat and the battery has been dead for two weeks.”

“How do you know?” Jupe demanded.

“I checked with the neighbors,” Pete answered. “They confirmed his story.”

“Ah.” Jupe sighed. “Proof — there’s no substitute for it. Still, he sounds like a fairly violent person, with that chain.”

Pete shrugged as he turned the ignition on to test the engine throttle. It hummed for a minute and then made a sound something like huppa-huppa-gak.

“What does it mean when it makes that sound, Pete?” Bob asked.

“It’s car talk for ‘Trade me — I’m falling apart,’ ” Pete said, laughing.

Bob was used to being teased about his antique car, and he laughed too. “Could you be a little more specific?” he asked.

“All I can say is there’s more wrong than I have time to fix right now. I’ll have to work on it. Maybe next week. Now, what about Maria Gonzales and Michael Argenti?” Pete asked Jupe.

Jupe smiled. “I called Maria and she’s got an unbreakable alibi for the time of the accident — she was trapped in an elevator with six other people. But Michael Argenti is another story. As you know, he’s Big Barney’s main rival. But according to The Wall Street Journal, Argenti recently tried to buy out Big Barney and take over the Chicken Coop restaurants.”

“So the Roast Roost wants to take over the Chicken Coops!” Bob said. “Amazing! But why would Argenti try to run Juliet Coop off the road?”

“I don’t know,” Jupe replied. “Perhaps he was trying to get to Big Barney with a little brutal persuasion.”

“Do you think he’s the one who’s trying to poison Big Barney’s chicken?” Bob asked. “I mean, he’s our only suspect.”

“No — there’s still Big Barney himself, and of course Mr. Sweetness, if he ever surfaces again,” Jupe said.

Just then the telephone rang in Headquarters. Pete reached it first.

“Three Investigators. Pete Crenshaw,” he said, flipping on the speaker phone.

It was Kelly calling from the hospital. She said only three words, but they were enough to send The Three Investigators into top speed.

“Pete,” she said, “Juliet’s awake.”

4 Dr. Jones Operates

The three investigators jumped into Bob’s VW and raced to the hospital, stopping only three times to make minor adjustments to major parts of the engine.

When they got there, they hurried straight to Kelly and Juliet’s room. Now, finally, they were going to get the real story of what happened the night of Juliet’s accident. Was someone chasing her? Was her crash an accident? What did she mean when she said someone was poisoning the chicken?

“Hey, Paul, John, and Ringo! Freeze!”

Jupe stopped, his hand on the door handle. The Three Investigators looked around and saw red-haired Elizabeth Lazar calling to them from the nurses’ station.

“Sorry, you can’t go in,” she said, smiling at them. “Mr. Coop’s in there with his daughter. And the doctors are examining Kelly. You’ll have to wait. But you’ve got time for a couple of choruses of ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand.’ ”

Bob laughed, but Jupe cleared his throat uncomfortably and walked away.

Five minutes clicked off on the big clock at the end of the hall. Then ten minutes. The waiting was driving Jupe crazy.

He walked over and started fidgeting with a stack of papers on the counter of the nurses’ station.

“What’s your hurry?” Nurse Lazar said to Jupe. She stared at his chest. “You know, you should wear something with a more positive image.”

Jupe was wearing the only clean shirt he could find in his drawer that morning. It said: when in doubt — EAT.

“Actually we’re eager to speak with Kelly’s roommate, Juliet Coop,” Jupe said in his most officious tone of voice. “We want to find out what she remembers about her accident.”

“Well, you can forget about that,” Nurse Lazar said with a little laugh. “She doesn’t remember anything. She has amnesia.”

Amnesia! The word hit Jupe in the gut like a ton of bricks. After all this waiting and wondering, the one person who could answer their questions had suddenly turned into a blank tape.

Finally the door to Juliet’s room opened and Big Barney came out. He stood half in and half out of the doorway, wearing a purple jogging suit with a little yellow and orange chicken embroidered on the chest.

“Okay, it’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to Juliet. “I’ll take you home and you’ll forget all about this — I mean, everything will be okay. Don’t look so worried. Do I look worried? Of course not. Ciao.”

Big Barney smiled and closed the door. But as soon as he started walking down the hall, the smile came off his face. He muttered something to himself as he walked quickly past the three teenagers.

“What’d he say? Could you hear?” Pete asked.

“It sounded to me like ‘What am I going to do?’ ” Bob said.

“Let’s go,” Jupe said, leading the way into the hospital room.

Twenty-year-old Juliet Coop sat in her bed, propped up with pillows behind her. Her curly black hair looked tousled from sleep, but her big blue eyes were wide open and clear. Her face, however, looked uncertain.

“Hi,” Kelly said cheerfully, but she gave Pete a “be careful” look. Jupe and Bob caught it as well. “Here they are, Juliet — the Three Investigators. Life-size, batteries not included, and some assembly required.” Kelly giggled. “This is Jupiter Jones, Bob Andrews, and this is my Pete.”

“Hi,” Juliet said. Her voice was soft but raspy. “I know all about you,” she said, looking at Pete.

Pete looked sideways at Kelly, while Jupe managed a shy hello.

Bob smiled and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve gone ten rounds with a boxing champ,” Juliet said. “But nothing’s broken, no deep cuts, just bruises and scratches. I’m actually going home tomorrow.”