Mystery of the Pirate's Map (4 page)

The Aldens left the beach at around four o'clock to head back to Tom's. They looked like typical tourists with their sandals and their towels slung over their shoulders.

Just before they reached Tom's street, a shiny black limousine pulled up to the curb next to them. The back window came down, and a man dressed in a suit leaned forward.

“Excuse me,” he said with a smile. “Would you happen to be the Alden children?”

Henry said, “Er . . . yes.” The man was smiling, but for some reason Henry didn't think he could be trusted.

The man looked down at Benny. “Then you must be the little boy who found the bottle the other day.”

“Y-yes, that's right,” Benny said.

The man put out his hand to shake. A diamond ring on his fourth finger sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Uh, you, too,” Benny replied. He didn't want to shake the man's hand, but he didn't want to be rude, either.

The man reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and took out an envelope. Then he held it open so the children could see what was inside—a thick wad of fresh twenty-dollar bills.

“There's a thousand dollars in here. That's a lot of money for a little boy like you. You can have it if I can have that bottle you found. In fact, I don't even want the bottle. I'd just like to have what's inside it.”

“Uh, I don't think so,” Benny said.

“Really? May I ask why?” said the man.

“Because I'd have to talk to my grandfather first,” Benny told him.

“Yes,” Jessie said, coming forward and putting her arms around her little brother. “We would have to talk to our grandfather.”

The man pretended to look hurt. “Oh, do we have to get him involved? Can't we just make a deal right here?”

“I'm sorry,” Henry cut in, “but we really shouldn't be talking to strangers in the first place.”

The man's smile suddenly came back. “That's very smart,” he said, although he didn't sound as if he meant it.

Then he reached into his pocket again and took out a business card. “Well, when you're ready to make a deal, after you've talked to your grandfather, please give me a call.”

“Ummm, okay,” Henry said, looking over the card quickly.

“Have a nice day, children,” the man told them as the window went back up. Then the car pulled away and was gone.

The others huddled around Henry to see what was on the card. There was nothing but a name and a phone number, and the name made their hearts jump:

Winston Walker

1-732-555-0241

“I think we'd better get back and tell Grandfather and Tom about this,” Henry said sullenly.

“I think you're right,” Jessie replied. “Let's go.”

“I
'm not surprised Walker turned up,” Tom said as he brought his fork to his mouth. He and Grandfather had made reservations at a nice restaurant called the Crab's Claw Inn, right on Oyster Bay. “He has obviously been after John Finney's treasure for years.”

“But how did he get here so fast?” Violet wondered aloud. “Does he live around here?”

“No,” Tom said, “but a man with that much money travels all the time.” Tom snapped his fingers. “He can be anywhere in an instant. He probably saw the story in the paper.”

“Speaking of which,” Grandfather said, reaching into his jacket pocket, “look at this.” He opened the front page of a different newspaper. This one was called the
Daily Tribune,
and there was Benny's face again. It was the same picture as last time.

“This is one of the biggest newspapers on the East Coast,” Grandfather said. “Your story is getting around fast. Pretty soon Winston Walker will have a lot of competition for that treasure.”

“So what do we do?” asked Jessie.

“You don't have to do anything if you don't want to,” Tom replied. “Or you can take Winston Walker's offer if you wish.” He looked at Benny. “It's your piece of the map, Benny, so it's your decision.”

Benny had been playing with his food but not eating it. The others were beginning to get worried. It was a rare moment when Benny wasn't hungry.

“I want to keep it,” he said firmly.

“So then keep it,” Tom told him. “Have you found out anything about the other pieces?”

The children looked at one another with silent, somber faces, which puzzled Tom. “What's wrong?”

“We got a picture of one of them, piece number two, but the third piece, well . . . that's the one Winston Walker found, and . . . he'll never let anyone else see it or photograph it. He's the only one who knows what it looks like. That's what the book in the Lighthouse Library said.”

Tom looked at Grandfather, then back at Henry. “So what are you going to do?”

“We're not sure yet,” Henry admitted. “We were thinking maybe we could put the other three pieces together and figure out where the treasure is from there, but . . .”

Tom frowned. “I doubt John Finney would make it that easy. Knowing him, he probably made sure you needed all four pieces.”

“That's what we figured, too,” Jessie said.

Henry sighed, then smiled. “We'll think of something,” he told them. He wanted to keep a positive outlook on the situation. But deep down inside, neither he nor any of the other Alden children had a clue as to what that something would be.

After they all got back from the restaurant, Tom and Grandfather turned in for the night. The children, on the other hand, decided to play a card game. They sat on one of the beds in the boys' room. Watch was lying on the carpet near the doorway. Playing games with one another was something the Aldens always enjoyed. But tonight they enjoyed it even more because it helped them forget all about John Finney's treasure for a little while.

“Do you have a . . . seven?” Jessie asked Benny, holding all her cards in a fan.

Benny giggled. “Nope! Go fish!”

Jessie frowned and took another card from the deck. Then she groaned and took another. By the time she got to her fifth, she was rolling her eyes and groaning. “Who taught him how to be such a good cardplayer?”

“Grandfather,” Henry said. “Remember? He taught all of us how to play.”

Caught up in their card game, the Aldens didn't hear what was happening in Tom's backyard. But Watch did hear something. He got up and hurried out of the room. The children, still playing cards, didn't notice him.

When Watch got to the first floor, he ran to the door that led to Tom's study and sniffed along the bottom. Then he began growling loudly.

“Do you hear that?” Violet asked. “I think it's Watch.” The children ran out of the room and hurried down the stairs.

“Watch, be quiet!” Henry said when he got to the bottom. But Watch just kept barking and scratching at the door.

“He must hear something in there!” Violet said.

Without hesitating, Henry opened the door and pushed it back. Then he reached over and flicked on the light. The intruder was almost all the way out the window. If the children had waited another second or so, they wouldn't have seen anyone at all.

Watch zoomed across the carpet, but the thief jumped down just in time. Then he—or she—hurried across the lawn, swiftly scaled the fence, and disappeared into the night.

Henry snapped his fingers. “Just missed 'em!”

Grandfather and Tom appeared in the doorway. “What's all this racket?” Grandfather asked.

“There was someone in here!” Benny replied. He looked scared, so Violet came up behind him and draped her arms around him.

“What?” Tom said. “Did you see the person's face?”

Henry shook his head. “No. When I turned on the light, the person was almost out the window.”

“How strange,” Tom said. “Nothing like that has ever happened here. Someone must know we have the fourth piece of the map.”

He went outside and apologized to the other guests who had awoken because of the noise. If any of them wanted to go to another bed-and-breakfast, he told them, he'd understand. But they all said no, they wanted to stay. They knew it wasn't Tom's fault. Since everything seemed to be under control, they all went back to bed.

Coming back into his study, Tom said, “Is anything missing?”

“Here's the bottle,” Jessie said, standing by the desk.

“And there's the piece of the map,” Henry said, pointing to it on the table.

“But why didn't the person take it?” Jessie asked.

“That's what I'd like to know,” Tom said quietly. “Even if he wanted to draw a copy of it, he couldn't do it in the dark. Is it possible he just put it down and forgot about it?”

“Maybe he—” Henry began, but then someone came walking into the room.

It was an elderly woman in slippers and a robe. Her hair was the off-white color of old piano keys, and it ran down her back in a long ponytail. She held the robe tightly around her body, as if she were chilly. “Tom? What happened?”

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Carter. How are you?” Tom asked.

“I'm fine, but you don't look so good. I heard all the commotion,” Mrs. Carter said.

“We had a break-in,” Tom told her. “Mrs. Carter, these are some friends of mine. This is James Alden, and these are his grandchildren, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and the little fellow is Benny. Kids, this is Mary Carter. She's my next-door neighbor.”

Mrs. Carter and the Aldens exchanged hellos. Then the woman said, “A break-in? Was anything taken?”

“It doesn't appear so.”

“What were those flashes?”

Everyone looked confused.

“Flashes?” Jessie asked.

Mrs. Carter pointed to the windows. “There were flashes in here. I saw them from my sitting room while I was watching TV Quick bursts of light. About a dozen.”

Tom said, “I'm afraid I don't—”

“Pictures!” Violet blurted out. “Someone was taking pictures! The light bursts were caused by the flash!”

Tom sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that's probably exactly what it was. There are so many reporters and other treasure hunters around here now, it could've been anybody. John Finney's treasure is probably so valuable, some people will risk getting arrested for breaking into someone's house in order to get their hands on it.”

Then Grandfather added, “So, as you said, it could've been anybody.”

“Uh-huh, that's right. But no matter who it was,” Tom replied, “they've got pictures of the last piece of the map now. So if you kids really want to find that treasure, I suggest you do it as soon as possible.”

T
he next morning the children and their grandfather went to a little shopping village that they had spotted when they first got into town. Originally the children had planned to go alone, but now Grandfather insisted on going with them. Soon after they arrived, however, they split up because the children wanted to get their grandfather a souvenir.

There were dozens of tiny stores in the village, each with its own specialty. One sold nothing but kites, another sold saltwater taffy, and another sold beach items such as bathing suits, suntan oil, and folding chairs. The first store they went into was called Treasures in the Sand.

Jessie saw the sign. “Haven't we had enough trouble with stuff we've found in the sand?” she said with a groan. The others laughed.

Once inside, each Alden went to a different part of the store. Violet was drawn to a rack of matted photos, sketches, and paintings. The ones that she liked she set aside for the others to see.

She had just found a beautiful watercolor of an ocean sunset when she noticed the two men outside. They were standing on the sidewalk, with people moving all around them. One had a little notebook, and a copy of yesterday's newspaper was sticking out of his back pocket. He also had a pencil tucked behind one ear. The second man had a camera hanging around his neck. Both were watching Benny through the window with great interest. It didn't take Violet long to figure out who they were—a reporter/photographer team.

Benny was looking for a price sticker on a seagull sculpture when the reporter pointed at him. Then the man said something to the photographer, who brought his camera up to take a shot.

“Benny!” Violet said sharply.

Startled, Benny almost dropped the sculpture.

“Yes?”

“Come here for a second. You've got to see this!” Violet said.

Benny walked away just in time. Both the photographer and the reporter looked disappointed. Then they moved closer to the window, determined to find out where Benny had gone.

“What?” Benny asked. “What do you want to show me?”

Violet didn't have an answer ready. “Huh? Oh . . . this, isn't this nice?” she asked clumsily, showing him the sunset painting.