The Mystery of the Merry Magician (5 page)

“It’s pretty nice on board,” Fisty said, leading the way to the dock.

They walked over the heavy planking of the pier. When they reached the side of the barge, Fisty jumped across to the deck. Gully followed him.

“Hi, Peggy!” Fisty called out.

A slim figure, dressed in blue jeans and green blouse, emerged from the deck house.

“Hi, Fisty. Who’s that with you?”

“My pal, Gully Queen.”

“Welcome aboard,” the girl said.

“Hello,” Gully said, shyly.

“Fisty told me you were coming to find out about the noises,” Peggy said, an impish grin on her pretty freckled face. She had flaming red hair tied from behind with a bright green ribbon, the exact color of her eyes. “Well, they’re just noises that come right up from the water. Want some lemonade?”

She didn’t wait for an answer but turned and went into the deckhouse. Fisty and Gully settled into deck chairs.

Inside the deckhouse a companionway led below. A moment later Peggy came up the narrow steps bringing a tray with a pitcher and three large mugs.

“Can you describe the noises?” Gully asked as he took the mug of lemonade.

“Well, at first it was clanking sounds.” She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. “Like pickaxes hitting stones. But the last two nights it’s been hammering.”

“How long have you been hearing them?”

“Since we tied up here, about a week ago.”

“Can you tell where the noise comes from? Could it be an echo from across the street?” Gully was thinking of Sandro’s house.

Peggy shook her head. “Right up from the water. And I can hear them better when I put my ear to the deck.”

“Water doesn’t make noises, not like that, anyway,” Gully said, puzzled. Nevertheless, he took out his notebook and jotted down the information.

“That’s all I know,” Peggy said. “If you want, you can hear them for yourself.”

“That’s a good idea,” Fisty was quick to break in. “Why don’t you sleep on the barge tonight, Gully?”

“I don’t know about that …”

“It’s all right,” Peggy said. “We’ve plenty of room in the deckhouse. Grandpa and I have cabins below.”

“We can sleep on the deck,” Fisty said. “It’ll be fun.”

Gully liked the idea of spending the night on the barge, sleeping under the open sky. It might turn out to be as exciting as camping out with Uncle Ellery.

“I’ll have to ask my grandfather for permission,” he said, an undertone of excitement in his voice.

“I’ll ask my Mom,” Fisty said. “Maybe she’ll let me stay out tonight. If it’s all right for me to stay here,” he added, turning to Peggy.

“Of course,” she laughed. “But don’t just sit around. Get going!”

“Sure!” Fisty leaped to his feet. “See you tonight, Peg!”

The two boys ran along the narrow deck which bordered the great hatches in the middle of the barge. They jumped to the dock and hurried out to West Street.

It was late afternoon and the traffic was beginning to get heavy. They waited for the light to change and then dodged across the street.

Mr. Merlin’s house was silent, the door tightly shut.

“Looks almost as if there was no one living there,” Gully commented as they hurried past.

The two boys separated at the corner.

“See you tonight, Gully,” Fisty said. “And bring a pair of swimming trunks with your toothbrush.”

“Swimming trunks?”

“Sure! Maybe well take a swim in the river tomorrow morning.

With a wink and a grin, Fisty was gone. Gully hurried to the subway and took the train uptown. He found, when he reached home, that he was early. Inspector Queen was still at Police Headquarters.

“You’ll just have to wait,” Mrs. Butterly told him. “Supper will be at seven, as usual. And your grandfather will be here in time.”

Gully spent the time until supper writing in his notebook. The pages were filling up fast. He was surprised to discover how much he had already written.

It was interesting, too, Gully found as he read over all the facts of the case from the beginning. So absorbed was he in the notebook that he did not hear the door to his room open.

“Supper’s ready, Gulliver.” His grandfather was standing in the doorway, smiling. “We’ve a guest, too. Sergeant Velie.”

They left the room together and walked down the hallway toward the dining room, arm in arm.

“We’re going back to headquarters tonight,” Inspector Queen said. “I’m sorry to leave you alone …”

It was the proper moment for Gully to ask permission to spend the night on the barge. They came into the dining room in time for Velie to overhear the last part of Gully’s request.

The big sergeant, already seated at the table, looked up.

“Sleep out on a barge?” he repeated. “Say, I did that when I was a kid on the West Side.”

“You were born and raised in New York,” Inspector Queen replied, taking his seat at the table. “It’s different with Gulliver. I’m not sure …”

“I’ll be on the barge with Captain Foster,” Gully reminded his grandfather.

“He’s a good man,” the inspector said. He thought about it for a minute, then made up his mind. “I think it’ll be all right.”

“Gee! Thanks, grandpa!”

“Velie and I will drive you to the pier.”

“Yes, sir.”

Later, as they drove south on the West Side Highway, Velie recalled stories of his boyhood on New York’s West Side.

“It was a pretty tough neighborhood in those days,” he said. “A bunch of us would bring blankets and sleep out on the open piers in the summertime. It was fine except when it rained.”

The car turned off the highway at the Canal Street exit and went along West Street to Pier A. Velie stopped the car at the foot of the dock.

“Take care, Gulliver,” Inspector Queen said as the boy jumped out, a small overnight bag in his hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give my regards to Captain Foster.”

“I will.”

C
APTAIN
Eban Foster was a big, genial man with a shock of red hair streaked with gray and a drooping walrus mustache over his lips. Hands on his hips and feet spread wide, he puffed on a black pipe clenched in his teeth and watched Gully approach.

“Ahoy, there, boy!” the captain called out in a rough voice. “What are you looking for?”

“Isn’t this the barge of Captain Foster?”

“That’s right. I’m Captain Foster. Who are you?”

“Gulliver Queen, sir. Is … is Peggy here?”

“She’s here. Come aboard. Peggy’s below washing the supper dishes with Fisty.” The seaman waited until Gully jumped to the deck of the barge, then continued. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Grandpa gave me permission to stay …”

“And where is that old landlubber? Why didn’t he drop anchor long enough to hail me?”

“He had to go to headquarters.”

“So? Well, Gulliver, do you play chess?”

“Not well, sir.”

“Hmmmm … checkers?”

“A little better.”

“I need a good player. Don’t like to win easily. Play with someone who can lick you, and you’ll improve your game.”

From below, Peggy called out, “Is that Gully with you, grandpa?”

“It is,” the old man replied.

“Fisty and I will be right up.”

The captain took out his pipe and used it to point to a deck chair. “Set yourself down.”

Gully did, then said, “Grandfather sends you his regards.”

“How is the Inspector?”

“Fine, sir. I’m going to live with him and Uncle Ellery for a year.”

Captain Foster suddenly laughed, softly. “Never thought Fisty would actually go to see Ellery Queen about that space monster business.”

“You did send him, though.”

“Oh, that I did. But I never meant for him to bother the Inspector. Come to think of it, when is that old codger going to retire, eh? Never, I bet. Loves his work too much.”

“And what about you?” Peggy came out, carrying a guitar. “You retired. But every summer you take this job as barge captain. You don’t fool me, grandpa. You want to feel the water under your feet again.”

“True, Peggy, lass. True. Now how about a song, eh?”

By way of an answer, Peggy struck a chord on the guitar.

Fisty came up and settled himself comfortably on the deck.

Peggy strummed a few more chords, then began to sing in a low, pleasant voice …

Darkness, it seemed to Gully, came quickly. The light breeze died away and all about them there was only the gentle slap of waves against the sides of the barge.

Across the water, on the New Jersey side, thousands of lights glittered. Slow ferryboats crossed and re-crossed the river, their lighted windows making shining reflections on its surface. Peggy seemed to know hundreds of songs and when she sang one they all knew, Gully, Fisty and the Captain joined in.

At last, Captain Foster tapped his pipe against the side of the barge, leaning over the dark waters as he did so.

“Time for bed,” he said. “For me, anyway.”

Fisty yawned. “Me, too,” he said. “Gotta go to work tomorrow morning.”

Peggy took her guitar below. She came back with a pile of blankets and two pillows.

“There’s enough room inside the deckhouse for both of you,” she said. “Or do you want to sleep on the deck?”

“On the deck,” Fisty replied.

He took two blankets, spread one out and placed a pillow against the side of the nearest hatch cover.

Gully followed his example.

“Good night.” Captain Foster clambered down the companionway to his cabin below.

Peggy remained for a moment.

“The noises start about midnight,” she whispered. “I’ll come up on deck then. Good night.”

“Good night.”

The two boys were alone. They lay down on their blankets, their heads resting on the pillows, and stared up at the sky.

The starry sky, the silence, the slow heaving of the barge as it rose and fell on the waves combined to give Gully a strange feeling of excitement. He had never spent a night among strangers in a strange place before. Still, he no longer thought of Fisty as a stranger. Nor Peggy, either. And Captain Foster was more like an old friend of the family …

He began to drowse. Fisty was already fast asleep. For the moment his mission to collect facts about the mysterious “space monster”—if there really was such a thing—and the suspicious goings on, were forgotten. It was so pleasant here on the barge, so peaceful … and he was fast asleep.

A hand shaking his shoulder awakened Gully. He sat up, fully alert. Peggy was leaning close to him, her finger on her lips.

“Gully!”

“What is it?”

“Listen. The noises …”

Gully listened. Faintly as though from a great distance came the sound of heavy thuds.

“Hear it?” It was Fisty, looking about him in the bright moonlight. “Where is it coming from?”

“Put your ear to the deck,” Peggy said.

Gully did so. The sounds were clearer and louder.

Fisty, his head pressed to the deck, said, “It’s right under the barge.”

“Water carries sound well. These noises may be a long way off.” Gully looked at Peggy. “Can they be heard from the street?”

“I don’t know.”

Gully put on his shoes. He had slept in his clothes and so was ready to go ashore within seconds.

“Where are you going?”

“To find out where the noise comes from.”

“Sandro’s house,” Fisty suggested. “Let’s go there and see, huh?”

By the light of the moon rising above the towers of lower Manhattan the two boys made for the dock. Peggy followed them.

“I’m going with you.”

“No, you’d better stay here,” Gully said.

The moonlight sparkled on a bright, angry light in Peggy’s eyes.

“Gulliver Queen, don’t think for a moment that just because I’m a girl I can’t be a good detective.”

“I’m not a detective. I just collect facts for Ellery Queen. He’s the detective.”

“Well, I’m going to collect facts, too!” Peggy snapped. “And don’t you try to stop me!”

Gully looked at Fisty helplessly. But his friend grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“All right, you can come,” Gully finally agreed.

West Street was dark and deserted. At the door of Sandro’s house, they stopped to listen. Everything was still. Either the mysterious noises had stopped, or they had gone further away from them. They moved down the sidewalk to Mr. Merlin’s door. Here, too, it was quiet.

“Well, it’s not coming from Sandro’s building. That’s sure,” Gully said. “Maybe from one of the docks.”

“Or from under the water,” Fisty suggested, shivering, although it was a warm night.

“Do you think there’s a submarine or spaceship hidden in the river?” asked Gully.

“Just wait until you’ve got all the facts written down in your little notebook. Then we’ll see if you’ll laugh at me.”

“Let’s go back.” Gully led the way across West Street.

The gates of Pier B were closed, but there was a small door open at the side leading into a tiny cubbyhole of an office. Unexpectedly, a man stepped out.

“What are you kids doing out here at this hour?” The man wore a uniform that resembled a policeman’s, but without a badge. “Oh, you’re the girl from the barge at Pier A,” he added, recognizing Peggy.

“I’m Peggy Foster and these are my friends, Gully and Fisty …”

“I’m the night watchman here. Ryan’s my name. You shouldn’t be wandering around so late …”

“We heard peculiar noises,” Gully said. “And tried to find out where they come from.”

The man nodded. “I know what you mean. I’ve been on this pier for a week. Every night I’ve been hearing it.”

“Do you know where it comes from?” Gully asked.

“Sometimes I think they come from right under my feet. But there’s nothing doing there. I looked.”

“We heard them on the barge,” Peggy said.

“No telling where it comes from. It’s a mighty peculiar kind of sound.” Ryan pushed his cap back and scratched his head. “I thought it was rats because the carpenters ripped up part of the dock and put new planks in and maybe chased the rats away from their old homes …”