CHAPTER 13 A VACANT BUILDING

Hastening to a main street, Penny and Louise waited many minutes for a bus. Finally as a taxi cruised past they hailed it, knowing they could obtain cab fare when they reached home.

“Let’s go straight to my house,” Penny said, giving the driver her address. “Dad should be there by this time. I know he’ll be as worried about Jerry as we are.”

A few minutes later the taxi drew up in front of the Parker home. Lights burned in the living room and the girls were greatly relieved to glimpse the editor reading in a comfortable chair by the fireplace.

“Dad, I need a dollar sixty for cab fare!” Penny announced, bursting in upon him.

“A dollar sixty,” he protested, reaching for his wallet. “I thought you and Louise went to a picture show. What have you been doing in a taxicab?”

“I’ll explain just as soon as I pay the driver. Please, this is an emergency.”

Mr. Parker gave her two dollars and she ran outside with it. In a moment she came back with Louise.

“Now, Penny, suppose you explain,” suggested Mr. Parker. “Has walking become an outmoded sport or are you trying to save wear and tear on rayon stockings?”

“Dad, Louise and I never went to the Rialto Theatre,” Penny said breathlessly. “We’ve been at The Green Parrot!”

“The Green Parrot!”

“Oh, we didn’t go alone,” Penny explained hastily as she saw disapproval written on her father’s face. “We telephoned Jerry and had him accompany us.”

“How did you learn the location of the place?”

“We heard a man give the address to a taxi driver, and followed in another cab. Dad, we saw Burt Ottman there!”

“Interesting, but it hardly proves that he is a saboteur.”

“He arrived at exactly nine-fifteen,” Penny resumed excitedly. “After talking with that man we followed, they both left the dining room, though not together. We saw Burt go downstairs and knock on a door which had a peephole.”

“Did he enter?”

“I don’t know,” Penny admitted. “Louise and I weren’t able to see. Just as things were getting interesting the head waiter came and politely escorted us out of the building.”

“Why didn’t Jerry bring you home?”

“That’s what I’m getting at, Dad. Jerry just disappeared.”

“What do you mean, Penny?”

Together the girls told him exactly what had happened at The Green Parrot. Mr. Parker promptly agreed that it would not be like Jerry to leave the cafe without an explanation.

“Something has happened to him!” Penny insisted soberly. “Dad, why don’t you call the police right away? It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if The Green Parrot is a meeting place for saboteurs! There’s no telling what they may have done to Jerry!”

By this time Mr. Parker had begun to share the alarm of the girls. Getting abruptly to his feet, he started toward the telephone. Before he could take down the receiver, the bell jingled. Answering the incoming call, a peculiar expression came over the newspaper owner’s face. After talking for a moment, he hung up the receiver and turned toward Penny.

“That was Jerry,” he announced dryly.

“Jerry!” Penny became confused. “But I don’t understand, Dad. Is he being held at The Green Parrot?”

“Jerry is at home. He called to ask if you and Louise arrived safely.”

“Well, of all the nerve!” Penny cried indignantly. “Just wait until I see him again!”

“Not so fast,” advised her father. “There seems to have been a little mix-up. After Jerry left the dining room to telephone, the head waiter told him that you girls had decided not to wait.”

“And he told us that Jerry had gone!” Louise cried. “I wonder why?”

“Because he wanted to get rid of our entire party!” Penny declared. “All the time we were in the cafe that head waiter seemed to keep his eye on us. Dad, what did Jerry do about paying the bill?”

“He was told that he need not settle it—that he could pay later.”

“Well, it’s all very peculiar,” Penny said with a sigh. “I’m glad Jerry is safe, but I still maintain we were hustled out of that place.”

“No doubt you were,” agreed her father. “I’m curious to see the cafe—especially that door with the peep hole.”

“I’ll take you there,” Penny offered eagerly.

“Not tonight,” Mr. Parker declined, yawning. “Tomorrow morning perhaps.”

Penny had to be satisfied with the decision, though she yearned for immediate action. After Louise had gone to her own home, she mulled over the situation, discussing every angle of it with her father.

“Why do you think Burt Ottman was at the Parrot?” she tried to pin him down. “Would you say he’s one of the plotters?”

“I have no opinion whatsoever,” Mr. Parker responded somewhat wearily.

Penny did not allow her father to forget his promise to visit The Green Parrot. The following morning she awoke early and at the breakfast table reminded him that they had an important appointment together.

“I should be at the office,” Mr. Parker said, glancing at his watch. “Besides, the cafe won’t be open at this hour.”

“The manager should be there, Dad. You’ll be able to talk to him and really look over the place.”

“We can ask a few questions—that’s all,” Mr. Parker corrected. “One can’t walk into an establishment and start searching.”

“Let’s go anyway,” pleaded Penny.

More to please her than because he hoped to uncover vital evidence, Mr. Parker agreed to make the trip. With Penny at the wheel of the family car, they drove to the street where The Green Parrot was situated. Parking not far from the entrance to an alley, they walked the remaining distance.

“This is the place,” said Penny, pausing before the familiar building. “Why, what’s become of the cafe?”

Bewildered, she stared at the doorway where the painted parrot sign had swung. It was no longer there and the Venetian blinds had been removed from the window.

“This place doesn’t have the appearance of a cafe,” said Mr. Parker. “Are you sure you have the correct address, Penny?”

“Why, yes, I know we came here last night. But the sign has been removed.”

Descending the stone steps, Penny pressed her face against the uncovered windows. Only a large, empty room confronted her astonished gaze. All of the tables and chairs had been removed, even the palm trees and decorations.

“It’s deserted, Dad!” she exclaimed.

Mr. Parker came down the steps to peer through a window. Bits of colored paper and menu cards still littered the floor. Testing the door, he found it locked.

“This certainly is strange,” he remarked thoughtfully. “Let’s inquire next door.”

Penny and her father chose to enter a bakery which adjoined the building. A stout woman in a white apron, who was arranging frosted cakes in a showcase, favored them with a professional smile.

“Good morning,” Mr. Parker greeted her, removing his hat. “Can you tell me what has become of the cafe next door?”

“Are you from the police?” the woman asked quickly.

“No, I’m connected with the Star.”

“Oh, a reporter!” assumed the woman, and Mr. Parker did not correct her. “I thought maybe you were from the police. Yesterday I saw a man watching The Green Parrot and I said to my husband, Gus, ‘The cops are going to raid that place.’”

“And did they?” interposed Mr. Parker.

“Not that I know of. The outfit just moved out. And a queer time to be doing it too, if you ask me!”

“When did they leave?”

“The van pulled up there about two o’clock last night. They were loading stuff in until almost dawn.”

“Can you tell me where they went or why they moved out?”

“No, I can’t,” the woman replied with a shrug. “Like as not they were afraid the police were going to raid ’em. I’m telling you that place deserved to be closed up.”

“Just what went on there?”

“I never was inside the place, but some mighty queer acting people seemed to be running it. Why, I’ve seen men go in and out of there at four o’clock of a morning, hours after the cafe closed up.”

“Foreigners?”

“I couldn’t rightly say as to that. My husband, Gus, thinks a lot of gambling went on. Anyway, I’m glad the outfit’s gone.”

Unable to learn more, Penny and her father left the bakery and walked toward their parked car. The information they had gained was not likely to prove very helpful. Obviously, The Green Parrot had closed its doors, fearing an investigation. Whether it had moved elsewhere or gone out of existence, they could not know.

“The call that Jerry, Louise and I paid there last night may have had something to do with it,” Penny remarked. “I know the head waiter was eager to be rid of us.”

As Mr. Parker and his daughter walked slowly along, several persons ran past them toward an alley. Approaching its entranceway, they saw that a throng of people had gathered not far from the rear exit of The Green Parrot.

“Wonder what’s wrong back there?” speculated Mr. Parker, pausing. “Probably an accident of some sort.”

“Let’s find out,” proposed Penny.

She and her father joined the group of excited men and women in the alley. They were startled to see a young man sprawled face downward on the brick pavement. A garbage collector jabbered excitedly that he had found the victim lying thus only a moment before.

Mr. Parker pushed through the circle of people. “Has anyone called an ambulance?” he asked.

“I’ll send for one, Mister,” offered a boy, hastening away.

Mr. Parker bent over the prone figure.

“He ain’t dead is he?” the garbage man asked anxiously.

“Unconscious,” replied the newspaper man, his fingers on the victim’s wrist. “A nasty head wound. I’d say he either fell or was struck from behind.”

Carefully Mr. Parker rolled over the limp figure. As he beheld the face, he stared and glanced quickly at Penny.

“Who is he, Dad?” she asked, and then she saw for herself.

The young man was Burt Ottman.