Chapter Seventeen: Now you See It, Now you Don't
This story is rated blue star and suitable for all ages.
Trixie and Honey slid into their seats in the Bob-White station wagon.
“Stuart Lewis,” the former announced to the assembled club members. “Does that name mean anything to anybody?”
The others shook their heads and Brian added, “I hope you haven’t forgotten your promise already.”
“It’s only a name,” Trixie said and sank back next to Honey, who had innocently asked one of the man’s co-workers his name, explaining that she was sure she’d seen him before.
“Still, you will be careful, right?” Jim pressed her hand. “Whatever else is going on or not going on I don’t like that whole thing with the light.”
“Me either,” Dan said grimly.
Even though no other problems had been detected, there had been no explanation for the falling light, and while the boys had not agreed with Trixie and Honey's sabotage theory, they had not comepletely dismissed it either.
Just as they were about to pull out of the car park Trixie realised she had left her folder with the plans in it behind.
“I’d better run back in and get it, in case we need it tonight,” she said, scrambling out of the station wagon.
“I’ll go with you,” Honey offered, but Trixie was already halfway to the door.
Flicking on the lights as she ran back inside, Trixie dashed into the auditorium. She looked around, expecting to see her folder up on the stage where she last remembered using it. Not wanting to scramble up without assistance, she went through the side door and made her way through the wings.
Moving from one side of the stage to the other and back again she searched without result. Then she ran down to the dressing room, searched it, the green room, and finally the rest room.
Frowning, she closed her eyes trying to recreate the afternoon’s events in her mind. She had been almost positive that the folder had been lying on a chair at the side of the stage, but it certainly wasn’t there anymore. Maybe she had things out of order. Maybe Mart hadn’t given the folder back to her at all. “You’d think he’d have stopped me running back in here, if that was the case,” she grumbled out loud. With a sigh of frustration she hurried out of the theatre and back to the car.
“Okay, where is it?” she demanded, sliding into her seat.
“Where’s what?” Mart said from behind her. “Your manners? Your brain?”
“Funny boy,” she returned. “Now, give me back my folder.”
“I don’t have your folder,” Mart said, “I thought that’s what the mad dash back into the building was about?”
“It wasn’t there,” Trixie said slowly.
“Wasn’t there?” Honey echoed from her position in the front seat. She turned to face her friend, her hazel eyes puzzled.
“Before we get carried away, let’s make sure one of us doesn’t have it,” Brian suggested.
They all rummaged through their belongings but the folder remained elusive.
“It must be in the theatre,” Mart said finally.
“It’s not,” Trixie insisted.
“It is a pretty big place, Trix,” Dan pointed out.
“Maybe one of us put it somewhere dumb,” Jim added and she shot him a smile. He squeezed her hand. “I’ll come back in with you and we’ll look again.”
“We’ll all look,” Mart said. “Seven sets of eyes are better than two.”
They all trooped back into the theatre and at Brian’s suggestion spilt up to look for the errant item. Trixie and Honey stayed in the foyer even though the former was sure that the folder couldn’t possibly be there. Honey dutifully went behind the bar and checked on the shelves and in the cupboards.
“I’ve already looked in all the places I know we were,” Trixie said, kicking the carpet with the toe of her shoe.
“Maybe Jim’s right,” Honey said. “Those boys are nowhere near as careful with things as we are.”
In spite of the way she was feeling, Trixie laughed at this and raised her sandy brows knowingly.
“Well, okay,” Honey admitted. “Brian and Jim are probably almost as careful as us, but Mart’s hopeless and even Dan doesn’t always put things back exactly where they belong.”
Trixie laughed again, “Good point, partner.” She waited until Honey emerged from behind the bar and gave her a swift hug. “You are a great best friend, did you know that?”
Honey smiled and hugged her back. “I consider myself very lucky to be your best friend.”
“Everything all right?” Jim asked as he and Brian arrived from searching the dressing rooms.
“Fine,” Trixie said. “We’re just reminding one another that we’re glad we’re friends.”
“Hear, hear,” Brian said with an approving smile.
“No luck downstairs, Trix,” Jim added apologetically.
“I didn’t think you would have any,” Trixie said.
“Let’s go in to the auditorium and check on the others.” Jim held his hand out and he and Trixie led the way.
Dan and Di were just coming down from the control booth as they entered and they both shook their heads ruefully.
“That’s that then,” Trixie said, her dejected tone matching the mood of most of the Bob-Whites.
“Not quite.” Mart was sitting on the side of the stage swinging his legs back and forth, and he didn’t look nearly dejected as he should have.
“What do you mean?” Honey asked, moving closer to him.
In answer Mart raised his hand; in it was the missing folder.
“You found it,” Di breathed.
Trixie frowned. “Where did you find it and why didn’t you let us know you had found it?”
“Both pretty fair questions,” Brian stated as he glared at his brother. “How long were you going to let us all wander around here, anyway?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I’d have stopped you before dinner,” Mart said.
Trixie’s blue eyes flashed, and she faced her brother arms akimbo. “You’re not funny. Where was it?”
“Under the chair.” Mart nodded towards the chair positioned on the side of the stage. “And I did just find it before you all came in here.”
“It can’t have been.” Trixie’s anger was forgotten and replaced by disbelief.
“I assure you Sherlock, it was.” Mart shook his head. “I should have realised, girls run around all over the place ‘looking’ for things, but they never actually end up seeing anything.”
Trixie growled in frustration, Honey uttered an indignant “Hey,” and even Di frowned at him.
“Want to rethink that last remark?” Jim hooked a brow in Mart’s direction.
“How else do you explain it? If it had been a dog, it would have bitten her.” Mart was used to his sister’s constant teasing him about missing items of clothing or misplaced homework and couldn’t resist getting a little of his own back.
“It wasn’t there, I tell you,” Trixie said through gritted teeth.
“Maybe the stage was kind of dark, so it might have been hard to see under a chair,” Dan offered tentatively.
“Especially if you were in a hurry,” Di added.
Trixie looked as if she was about to explode or burst into tears.
“I never heard anything so silly in my whole life,” Honey declared. “Trixie’s one of the most observant people I’ve ever met.”
“Look, the really important thing is that we’ve found it.” Brian looked from one sibling to the other. “I’m sure it wasn’t that easy to spot.”
Mart saw that his sister was upset and nodded his sandy head. “It might have been a little way under the curtain as well as the chair,” he admitted. “I didn’t see it right off either, Trix.”
Jim put an arm around Trixie’s shoulders. “Anyone could have missed it under the curtain. It might even be that when he started looking Mart accidentally kicked it into view or something.”
Seeing that everybody, with the possible exception of Honey, wanted to move on, Trixie nodded. “I guess so,” she conceded. In silence, they trailed back to the station wagon and headed for home.
The sun was low in the sky and most of its warmth had faded from the day.
Trixie dug her trowel into the flourishing garden bed and carefully removed some greens for supper.
Honey took them from her, shook them free of dirt, and placed them into a small bucket. “I don’t care what anyone says, I know you and I absolutely believe you when you say that folder wasn’t there.”
Trixie managed a small smile. “You’re the only one, Honey. Even I’m starting to doubt me.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. There has to be some other explanation, we just haven’t thought of it yet.”
Trixie rubbed her finger across her bottom lip. “I have thought of one but I didn’t want to say anything. I know how it sounds.”
“What?” Honey asked. “You can tell me, no matter what it is, you know that.”
“You don’t always agree with me.” Trixie’s expression held just a hint of uncertainty.
Honey thought for a moment before answering, “I always listen, though,” she said, hazel eyes serious.
Trixie nodded slowly. “That’s true.” She took a deep breath. “What if Mart and I are both right.”
“How could you be?”
“If the folder wasn’t there when I went to look for it but was there when we all came back, then we’d both be right,” Trixie said.
“Okay, I understand that much, but how could that—” Honey broke off and Trixie met her widening eyes squarely.
“If someone had taken the folder and then returned it, then that’s exactly what would have happened.”
“But they wouldn’t have had it all that long, would they?” Honey mused.
“There’s a copier in the office behind the ticket box,” Trixie said. “I noticed it the other day. It would only take a moment to copy the plans.”
“Trix, that makes sense,” Honey shook her golden brown head as she spoke, “but I don’t like it one little bit.”
“I suppose you think we should go tell the others.” Trixie unearthed a couple of onions and handed them to her friend.
Honey’s smooth brow furrowed. “I don’t know,” she said, and Trixie felt a faint flicker of relief run through her.
“They really seemed to think you just must have missed it, and I’m pretty sure they’d just say—”
“Why would anyone do that?” Trixie added her voice to her friend’s and they finished the sentence together.
“We know that if someone did have an interest in the robbery, those plans could prove very useful,” Honey mused, “provided they were better at reading them than you and I were, that is.”
“Exactly,” Trixie agreed. “Plus those men probably already have access to the current plans and that means—”
“They could compare them,” Honey said.
Trixie grinned. She loved it when she and Honey worked together like this. It proved to her that they really did have a future together as detectives. They thought differently yet alike at the same time. It was hard to explain to an outsider.
“And, all of the workmen were there when Mart came and asked for the plans.” She smiled at the look of determination that crossed Honey’s face knowing that her own expression was virtually a mirror image.
“Trixie, we have to get a hold of the new plans as well.”
“I agree. I’ll check with Dad to see if Mr. Saunders did drop a copy off. And let’s look at those old articles again. Maybe now we’ve seen more of the workmen the robbers might look more familiar.”
Honey nodded and the two ran back to the house.
Because there was school the next day, Honey hurried on home for dinner and Trixie spent some overdue time with her younger brother.
“How come this hurricane was so bad, Trixie?” Bobby asked. His teacher had them all working all week on drawings and letters to send to children in Farradale, and Bobby was hard at work.
“I don’t really know, Bobby,” Trixie said. “Some are just worse than others.”
“But ours didn’t wreck everything,” Bobby said, recalling the time when a hurricane had uprooted trees all around the farm and almost ruined the Bob-White clubhouse.
“I know I think it depends on lots of things like where it starts and how far it travels maybe.” Trixie frowned slightly.
“Why?” Bobby demanded.
Trixie sighed. “Maybe you’d better ask Brian. I don’t think I can explain it very well.”
Bobby shrugged. “But you’re giving a benefit to help all the people that don’t have houses anymore?”
“That’s right, and people have lost their businesses and their schools as well.”
“Can I help?” Bobby’s blue eyes were serious.
“Of course you can,” Trixie smiled down at him. “What would you like to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe I could sing like Honey and Brian or do tricks like Mart.” He frowned. “Only I’m not a very good singer and I don’t know any tricks.”
“Why don’t you talk to your teacher?” Trixie suggested. “Maybe your whole class could do something.” She scratched her head as she glanced down at his colourful drawing. “We could display the artwork you’ve been doing at the Benefit,” she said.
Bobby nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Trixie, that’s a good idea.” He hugged his sister. “Everyone at my school knows who you are and they think I’m lucky to have you as my sister.”
Trixie’s blue eyes blinked in surprise, and she hugged him back. “I think I’m the lucky one.”
The following morning, before heading to school, Trixie waited impatiently while Honey examined the faded newspaper articles.
“I don’t know, Trix,” her friend said after a while, “from the reported ages and trying to imagine the men without all that facial hair I’m willing to bet…” She shrugged her slim shoulders and continued, “Oh, let’s face it! It could be anyone on the entire crew who is over thirty.”
Trixie sighed. “I agree with you, but after what Mart said last night don’t even think of asking me to share what we’re doing now.”
Honey patted her friend on the shoulder. “Even he knew you weren’t suggesting that Mitch Taylor was involved in the original robbery, he was just being…”
“Obnoxious, nasty, annoying, smart alecky.” Trixie’s blue eyes narrowed.
“I was going to say Mart,” Honey observed with a smile.
“That too,” Trixie said. “I just wish he’d give me the benefit of the doubt sometimes.”
“He did sort of stick up for us yesterday, and I think you explained your theory really well,” Honey said. “I know I’m sure at least some of money and stuff is hidden in the building still and that there are reasons why the thieves may not have said anything about a fourth person.”
“You I didn’t need to convince,” Trixie observed with a half-smile. “I don’t like Gavin Parkes, but it doesn’t have to be him. What about the foreman, Jake Summers, he’s around the right age.”
“He’s been pretty friendly though,” Honey mused.
“True, but that might be a blind,” Trixie said. “ Crooks can be tricky. We know that from experience. And the painting guy, who gave you his card, he could be one of them. And if we’re right about a fourth person, then it could be anyone, except, I concede, Mitch, who at about six, might have been easy to spot.”
Honey laughed at this. “You’re not making it any easier. Maybe we should talk to Mr. Saunders? He might tell us more about the crew, because I think you’re right about them coming back too.”
Trixie opened her mouth to speak, then slowly fixed her gaze on her friend. “What about Mr. Saunders? What if he’s involved?”
“But he’s a respected businessman,” Honey began before her expression altered too. “That doesn’t necessarily mean much, does it?”
Trixie shook her head. “Still, he’s been really helpful and he could have said no to us using the centre altogether without raising any suspicion.”
“That’s a good point. I just wish one of the people at the centre looked familiar.” Honey wrinkled her nose.
“I’ve looked at those pictures until my eyes hurt and come up with nothing, but I guess I was hoping this was one of those times when you could see something I couldn’t.”
“We have those times?” Honey asked with a rueful smile.
“Of course we do,” Trixie insisted. “You’re much more likely to notice clothes and jewellery and stuff.”
“That’s sure going to be helpful here,” Honey chuckled. She continued to stare at the grainy photographs a small frown crossing her pretty face.
“What?” Trixie demanded.
“What colour would say those eyes are?” Honey asked slowly.
Trixie was about to retort as she studied the grey newsprint when a frown crossed her own face. “Definitely not black like Brian’s,” she said.
Honey nodded. “I know it’s not much but this one here,” she tapped the photo of John Smith as she made her point, “has pale eyes. I guess they could be any colour but they are really pale so they’re more likely not to be brown.”
“See,” Trixie waved her finger at her, “I told you so.”
“I don’t see how it helps.”
“I guess you can go around and stare into the eyes of all those men. That should be interesting,” Trixie said with a grin.
“You’re the senior partner of this agency—you do the staring,” Honey returned.
“Let’s spread these two lots of plans out and see if we can make more sense of them.”
The two studied the papers in silence, pausing to turn them around first one way, and then another.
“I don’t know about you,” Trixie said finally, “but to me it looks like they’ve made lots of changes.”
“I agree,” Honey said. “Or at least, I think I do. Plans of buildings are nothing like the actual buildings.”
Trixie grinned. “Guess it’s just as well we don’t want to be architects when we grow up.”
Honey frowned for a moment. “Don’t get mad, Trix, but maybe the boys might be able to make more sense of these.”
Her friend sighed and shrugged. “You could be right. We did establish they have their uses.”
“But only occasionally,” Honey quipped.
“Fine. I’ll leave them here and tonight at some point, they can take a look. I do think we’re right about them altering the layout though.”
“Me too.”
“Good.” Trixie folded the plans and placed them on her desk, adding the newspaper clippings. “If they are going to help, they can help solve the mystery of the man with the pale eyes while they are at it.”
Algebra was beginning to unravel its own mysteries, so far as the two girls were concerned, and as they sat together after class on a bench seat in the schoolyard, they were both relieved to learn that they had scored respectable Bs on their recent homework. Leaning over to read their papers, Mitch Taylor rolled his eyes.
“Guess you got those big-brained brothers of yours to step in after all,” he said insolently.
“We did our own work,” Honey retorted.
“Because we actually have brains,” Trixie added making a face at him.
“Sure you do. ‘Fess up girls, what kind of payment plan did those would-be saints agree on?”
“We didn’t get any help,” Honey began then frowned. “Brian and Jim would never expect us to pay them for their help, anyway.”
“Not with money,” Mitch grinned as both girls’ expressions changed from puzzled to outraged.
“You’re…” Honey couldn’t even find the words.
“Repulsive, smarmy, creepy.” Trixie wasn’t having the same trouble.
“Planning on assaulting my nephew again?”
Trixie looked up and Honey moved closer to her friend as Gavin Parkes loomed over them, his expression angry, his light blue eyes flashing.
BSM:MAIN NEXT
Dana has had quite a battle on her hands with this story and I am so grateful for her skill and support. This chapter has had a serious play-with, and errors, I am sure, abound.
Trixie Belden et al remain the property of Random House. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
