The Mystery of the Smashing Glass Read online

  The Three Investigators

  in

  The Mystery of the Smashing Glass

  Text by William Arden

  Based on characters created by Robert Arthur

  Contents

  A Greeting from Hector Sebastian ……………………… 4

  1. Broken Windows ………………………………….. 6

  2. The Unseen Force …………………………………. 10

  3. The Scene of the Crime ……………………………. 14

  4. Alarm! …………………………………………… 19

  5. Menace in the Junkyard ……………………………. 23

  6. Jupiter Finds an M.O. . …………………………….. 29

  7. Accused! …………………………………………. 32

  8. A Stolen Eagle ……………………………………. 37

  9. Reporters for a Day ……………………………….. 42

  10. The Invisible Vandal ……………………………… 47

  11. A Strange Meeting ……………………………….. 51

  12. Ghost-to-Ghost Again …………………………….. 56

  13. Defeat! ………………………………………….. 61

  14. Jupiter Strikes Back ………………………………. 66

  15. Who Is the Smasher? ……………………………… 71

  16. A Close Call …………………………………….. 75

  2

  17. A Smasher Caught! ………………………………. 80

  18. The Copycat …………………………………….. 84

  19. A Thief Unmasked! ………………………………. 88

  20. Mr. Sebastian Offers a Challenge …………………… 92

  A Greeting from Hector Sebastian

  Hello again, mystery lovers! And welcome to another extraordinary adventure of The Three Investigators.

  In case you haven’t met these determined young detectives before, I should tell you that they live in Rocky Beach, California, not far from Hollywood. Jupiter Jones is the leader of the group. Jupe, as his friends call him, has an incredible memory, can repair or rebuild anything, and can practically outthink Einstein. He’s also a bit on the … stout side. It would be unkind to call him fat, though he was once a child actor named Baby Fatso. But that’s one fact Jupe would be more than happy to keep a mystery.

  Pete Crenshaw, the Second Investigator, is a tall, athletic boy who’s a loyal ally in tight spots. But he does get a little nervous when faced with the bizarre or the unexplained.

  Last, but by no means least, is Bob Andrews. He’s the smallest member of the team, and also the most practical and down-to-earth. Bob’s the one who does the research, keeps notes on the Three Investigators’ cases, and writes their final reports. I look forward to reading his report at the end of each case.

  As for me, I’m Hector Sebastian, former New York private eye and now a mystery writer. I’m one of the boys’ biggest fans and am always pleased to introduce their cases.

  This case starts with a series of incredible events — car windows shattering all over town for no apparent reason. To find out why, the boys have to patiently dig up facts and make deductions. Along the way they must deal with unknown intruders, electronic wizardry, and suspicious authorities as they come to the aid of a schoolmate who’s been falsely accused of vandalism.

  So join my clever young friends as they interview the police, track down an invisible troublemaker, and trap a cunning thief. See if you can figure out the solution before Jupiter does. The clues are sprinkled all along the way.

  A Greeting from Hector Sebastian

  Happy hunting!

  HECTOR SEBASTIAN

  5

  1

  Broken Windows

  “It certainly is a mystery, Mr. Jacobs,” the voice of Uncle Titus Jones announced.

  Pete Crenshaw raised his head to listen. He was weeding the flower border outside the office cabin in The Jones Salvage Yard one Monday in July. Voices were coming from inside the building.

  “Not to me,” said an unfamiliar man’s voice, presumably Mr. Jacobs’. “Juvenile tomfoolery, that’s what it is.”

  Pete listened eagerly. A mystery!

  “Once, even twice, it could simply be an accident,” the man went on logically, “but four times? Four times Paul has come home from his friend’s house with a truck window smashed. He says he parks and goes inside, and when he comes out to go home the window is broken!”

  “That’s the truth, Dad,” a boy’s voice insisted.

  “Now come on, Paul.” The man laughed humorlessly. “I was a boy once, remember? I expect someone slams the door too hard, or one of your friends clowns around and breaks the window. I’m sure you’re protecting a friend, but this is too serious for that.”

  “Dad! I really don’t know how the windows get broken.”

  “All right, Paul,” Mr. Jacobs said calmly. “As I said last Wednesday, until you tell me what really happened, you won’t be permitted to drive the truck.”

  “I’ve got to pick up and deliver for the store,” the boy protested, grasping at a straw.

  “You can still load and unload, and help in the store. But I will drive the truck until you find your memory.”

  If the boy, Paul, said anything in reply, it was too low for Pete to catch. Moments later, Pete heard the front door of the office open. He hurried around the little building and saw a tall man emerge, his face grim and determined. The boy behind him was almost as tall but very thin. He had

  Broken Windows

  pale skin, dark hair, a snub nose, and sad brown eyes. The man got into a gray panel truck painted with the legend:

  JACOBS’ PREVIOUSLY OWNED FURNITURE

  ROCKY BEACH, CALIFORNIA

  WE BUY AND SELL — FREE DELIVERY

  “I’m sorry, Paul,” Mr. Jacobs said, “but you must choose between your responsibility to me and your loyalty to your friends. Now get in and I’ll take you home. I won’t need you anymore today, now that we’ve delivered the chairs to Mr. Jones.”

  “I guess I’ll walk,” Paul said sullenly.

  “Suit yourself,” Mr. Jacobs replied. He looked down at his son, sighed unhappily, and drove out of the yard. Paul Jacobs stood alone, scuffing his shoe into the dirt and watching the yard helpers, Hans and Konrad, stack the newly delivered chairs.

  “Paul!” Pete called from the corner of the office.

  The startled boy looked around.

  “Over here!”

  Paul saw Pete and walked over to him. The two boys knew each other from school, but not well. Paul was several years ahead of Pete and his friends.

  “Pete Crenshaw, right?” the snub-nosed boy said.

  Pete nodded. “I’m sorry your dad’s so mad at you,” he sympathized.

  Paul sighed glumly. “I just got my driver’s license, too.”

  “Gosh, that’s terrible.” Pete knew how bad he would feel if he didn’t have a car to drive when he finally got his license. “But maybe we can help you!”

  “How?” Paul said unhappily. “And who’s we?” Pete pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket. Paul read the card, frowning:

  Paul Jacobs nodded, a sudden hope lighting his eyes. “Hey, I remember hearing about you fellows. Maybe you can help me.”

  7

  Broken Windows

  “Come on!” Pete cried.

  The Second Investigator forgot all about his weeding. He dragged Paul Jacobs across the salvage yard to where his fellow junior detectives, Jupiter Jones and Bob Andrews, were nailing up loose boards in the high fence. Jupiter was groaning with the effort of working in the heat. He stopped to rest and wipe his perspiring face after every single blow of the hammer in his pudgy hand. Next to him, Bob grinned as he briskly pounded in nail after nail.

  “If there’s anything I hate,” Jupiter said, “it’s a cheerful workman.”

  “Jupe! Bob!” Pete exclaimed, hurrying up to his friends, Paul Jacobs in tow. “We’ve got a new case!”

  Jupiter’s eyes lit up. “Ah-hah, then there’s not a moment to lose!” he cried in his best imitation of Sherlock Holmes’ English accent. “The game’s afoot, fellows!”

  He instantly dropped the offending hammer and whirled around, almost bumping into Aunt Mathilda Jones, who had just come up behind him.

  “The game may be afoot, you scamp,” she said, “but the fence is still awaiting! As for you, Peter Crenshaw, I did not give you weeding tools so you could leave them to melt in the sun. Back to work! None of you rascals has worked an honest hour yet.”

  “B-but — ” Pete stammered. “Paul here has — ”

  “Another one, eh?” Jupiter’s aunt cried. “Good, I have one more job. Your name is Paul, young man?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the bewildered youth.

  “Well, Paul, you can — ”

  At that moment, Uncle Titus came out of the office and headed across the yard. “Lunch!” he cried. “Everyone makes his own sandwich!”

  “Food!” Jupiter exclaimed. “That’s why we’re working so slowly, Aunt Mathilda. We’re faint from hunger.”

  “Starving,” Pete groaned, his legs wobbling.

  “Weak,” Bob whispered. He leaned against an old refrigerator and slid slowly to the ground.

  “I only hope I have the strength to reach the house,” Jupiter gasped, clutching at the fence for support.

  Hands on her hips, Aunt Mathilda sternly watched the performance while Paul Jacobs grinned. She scowled at the staggering boy
s for a long moment, then burst into laughter.

  “Very well, have your lunch. But don’t think you’ve escaped. After you’ve eaten, it’s back to work!”

  In the house across the street, the boys made ham-and-cheese sandwiches, then carried them to Jupe’s outdoor workshop in the salvage yard. There,

  8

  Broken Windows

  between bites of his sandwich, Pete outlined Paul’s mystery.

  “You have no idea who broke the windows?” Jupiter asked.

  Paul shook his head. “I don’t even know how they got broken. Once I was out on my friend’s porch and even heard the window smash, but I didn’t see a soul near the truck.”

  Paul looked at the Three Investigators. “I know it sounds incredible, but the window seems to have smashed all by itself!”

  9

  2

  The Unseen Force

  “It’s possible,” Jupiter intoned, “for glass to fatigue and shatter spontaneously, but it would be highly unlikely for that to happen four times in close succession on the same vehicle.”

  Paul Jacobs stared at the First Investigator with glazed eyes.

  “What Jupe means,” Pete said with a grin, “is that glass can wear out like anything else, but not four times in a row on the same car.”

  “Thanks,” Paul said. “Does he always talk that way?”

  “You’ll get used to it.” Bob laughed. “Underneath, he’s just a plain, ordinary genius.”

  “If you three are finished clowning,” the stout leader said frostily, “perhaps we can get on with the case? I suggest Paul tell us everything from the beginning.”

  “He means” — Pete winked — “take it from the top, Paul.”

  The snub-nosed teenager smiled, then began his story. It seemed he had a friend who lived at 142 Valerio Street in a residential area of town. Paul often visited his friend’s house after dinner, driving there in his father’s panel truck. He always parked on the same side of the block in front of the house. Four times in less than two months the window on the driver’s side of the truck had been smashed when he came out of his friend’s house. Paul had no idea who was responsible for the damage, but he knew it wasn’t his pals — no matter what his dad thought.

  “Is it always on the same night of the week?” Bob asked.

  Paul thought a moment. “I don’t think so, but I can’t really remember. The most recent time was last Wednesday.”

  Jupiter looked thoughtful. “Are windows broken in other cars at the same time?”

  “Not that I know of,” Paul said. “I mean, I’ve never seen or heard about any other windows being broken on the block — but I never checked.”

  “Jupe,” Pete said slowly, “why is it important about other windows get-

  The Unseen Force

  ting broken?”

  “If only Paul’s windows are broken,” Jupiter explained, “then something is wrong with his truck, or someone specifically wants to damage it. But if other windows are broken, then the phenomenon is not limited to one vehicle. Why, Second?”

  “Well,” Pete said, “my dad had a window on his car broken one night last week, and he couldn’t figure out how it happened either!”

  Pete went on to explain that his father’s car had been parked on the street in front of his house, and the window of the driver’s seat had been smashed. His father hadn’t seen anyone around, and nothing appeared to have fallen through the glass.

  “My dad says it was kids. You know, just running around breaking car windows for fun.”

  “To adults it’s always kids.” Jupiter sighed, and then his voice became eager. “Pete’s information suggests that whatever is going on is a lot bigger than just Paul’s panel truck. What we must do — ”

  Jupiter’s round face suddenly went white as a sheet. “Quick, fellows!” he cried. “There’s not a moment to lose!”

  The other three stared at the stocky leader. Then they all heard it too — Aunt Mathilda’s voice booming in the distance: “Time to work, you scamps! I know you’re still in the yard. Come out, you scalawags!”

  “Paul’s too big for Tunnel Two,” Jupiter said. “Easy Three, hurry! Run!”

  The four boys raced out of the workshop and along the great mound of junk next to it. They stopped at a big oak door still in its frame that was leaning against a pile of large granite blocks. Pete reached deep into a box of junk and brought out a large, rusty key that opened the leaning door. Behind the door was a huge old iron boiler. The four boys stooped to pass through it, and came to a door in the side of a metal structure. Pete opened the door and the boys stepped into a cluttered and cosy room furnished as an office.

  “Wow!” Paul stared around in awe. “Where are we, fellows?”

  “Inside our Headquarters,” Pete explained proudly. “It’s an old trailer that Jupe’s uncle bought years ago. We piled the junk all around so it’s totally hidden, and everyone’s forgotten about it. Even Aunt Mathilda’s never found us here!”

  “It’s great,” Paul enthused. He looked admiringly at the desk and file cabinet, the telephone with its loudspeaker and answering machine, the radio, intercom, and walkie-talkies.

  “It is quite serviceable,” Jupiter agreed. “Now, as I was saying when Aunt Mathilda interrupted, what we must do is figure out what could smash a window without being seen and without leaving any traces behind!”

  11

  The Unseen Force

  “Ultrasonic waves!” Bob said. “Sound can break glass.”

  “Sure!” Pete cried. “Like an opera singer.”

  “Or a jet making a sonic boom when it goes through the sound barrier,” Paul added. “The boom could break glass.”

  “Do you remember hearing a jet fly over your friend’s house just before you heard the window smash?” Jupiter asked Paul.

  The older boy shook his head. “No. There was no jet.”

  “Are there any factories, radio stations, or TV stations near your friend’s house?” Jupiter said. “Any machinery that might emit ultrasonic waves by accident?”

  “No,” Paul said. “There are just houses around.”

  Pete said, “What about an earthquake?”

  “Did you feel anything?” Bob asked Paul.

  “No,” Paul said, “but maybe there was a real small one. I remember earthquakes I never felt that knocked stuff off shelves.”

  Jupiter shook his head. “Car windows are very strong.”

  “How about wind?” Bob suggested. “A tornado? I’ve read about small local twisters around here.”

  “Paul would have seen things blowing,” Jupiter pointed out.

  “M-maybe,” Pete stammered, “a ray? A death ray?”

  “Like in Star Wars,” Paul said. “A heat ray or a force ray!”

  “From another planet,” Bob said.

  “A spaceship!”

  “An invisible alien!”

  “Or … a ghost.”

  “A poltergeist!”

  Jupiter held up his hand to quiet the hubbub. “Don’t get carried away! There may be an unseen force at work, but most likely there’s a simple, obvious explanation that we just haven’t thought of. The real problem is that we just don’t know enough. I suggest two courses of immediate action to learn all we can about the broken windows.”

  “What are they, Jupiter?” Paul asked eagerly.

  “First, we will duplicate the crime setup by parking on the street and watching to see if anything smashes our windows. Then — ”

  “But,” Paul interrupted, “my dad won’t let me drive the truck anymore.”

  Jupiter smiled. “I think we can get something much better than your truck for our decoy.”

  “What’s the second action, First?” Bob wanted to know.

  “We’ll use a Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup!”

  Paul gasped. “A ghost to what?”

  12

  The Unseen Force

  “A Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup,” Pete explained. “It’s a way Jupiter invented to get a whole lot of kids all looking or watching for something. Each of us calls five friends and asks them to do whatever it is we want, and then they call five of their friends, et cetera.”

  “I get it,” Paul said. “If each of us has five friends, and each of them has five, and all those have five … Wow, that would be five hundred kids! We could cover Los Angeles with a plan like that.”

  “Exactly,” Jupiter said. “But let’s limit our coverage to Rocky Beach. We’ll use the hookup to find out if any other car windows in town have been smashed over the last two months, and just when and where.”