Dunc and the Haunted Castle (4 page)

When they were seated, a woman wearing a white cup towel for an apron came over to their table. “What’ll it be, gents?”

Amos cleared his throat. “I’ll have a double cheeseburger, fries, a large chocolate shake, and—”

The woman grinned. “That’ll be one order of fish and chips.” She rolled the r’s in the word
order
. “How about you two?”

“We’ll have the same.” T.J. turned to Amos. “I told you the menu was limited.”

Dunc leaned over the table. “Don’t look now, but I think we’ve been followed.”

T.J. and Amos turned around. Mr. Smith, the grounds keeper from the castle, was coming down the steps.

“I said don’t look.”

“I knew he’d turn up,” T.J. said. “He’s everywhere. I haven’t been able to make a move without him following me.”

Mr. Smith walked over to the bar. He whispered something to Rosie and handed her a piece of paper. Without looking around, he turned and left the building.

“That was strange,” T.J. said. “Usually he stays right with me.”

Dunc watched Rosie working behind the counter. “I wonder what was on that piece of paper.”

“That’s not hard to figure,” Amos said. “He placed an order to go.”

Dunc shook his head. “He didn’t wait for any food.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“She’s probably an international spy,” T.J. whispered. “And he gave her a coded message.”

Amos put his elbow on the table. “You’ve
been watching too many old James Bond movies.”

T.J. looked offended. “I’ve learned a lot from James Bond.” He took a pen out of the inside pocket of his trench coat. “Take this, for example.”

Amos reached for it. “What does it do? Write in disappearing ink?”

“Among other things.” T.J. jerked it out of his reach. “Watch this.” He touched a button, and a tiny pair of scissors slid up out of the handle.

“That’s handy,” Amos said, “if you want to cut out paper dolls or something.”

T.J. stuck his bottom lip out. “Okay, you asked for it.” He pointed the pen at Amos and pushed another button. Nothing happened. “It must be stuck. It’s supposed to squirt ink in your face. I guess I’ll have to work on it.”

He banged it on the table just as Rosie brought their food. A big ink blob splattered her apron.

T.J. jumped up, dipped his napkin in his glass of water, and tried to wipe it off, but he only succeeded in smearing it. “I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Macdonald. I was just showing my friends how my pen worked, and—”

“Sit down quickly, boy. You’re drawing attention to us.” She set the food on the table. Then she laid the ticket upside down beside Dunc. “Be sure you check that ticket carefully, boy. You never know. It might surprise you.”

Dunc waited until she was on her way back to the counter, then picked up the ticket. Only it wasn’t a ticket. It was a piece of paper with a message on it.

Amos frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. What language is it written in?”

Dunc stuffed the paper into his pocket. “That’s the way these guys talk over here. I think Mr. Smith’s trying to warn us about something. Hurry and finish eating. We need to go someplace where we can talk.”

Dunc stopped on the old bridge in front of the castle and took out his notebook. “Let’s see. So far we have: a weird noise we can’t explain, a bottle of whisky, a suspicious conversation involving the housekeeper and Mr. Macbeth, and a strange message from Mr. Smith. Have I left out anything?”

“Yeah,” Amos said. “The monster.”

Dunc shook his head. “We haven’t determined that there is a monster.”

Amos sighed. “The problem is, we haven’t determined there isn’t. It’s all in how you look at it.”

Dunc flipped the notebook shut. “This is
one of the most puzzling cases I’ve ever had. Nothing fits.”

Amos leaned over the side of the bridge and threw a rock into the stream. “I vote we forget it and go fishing.”

T.J. opened his trench coat. “Your wish is my command.” He reached deep into a side pocket and produced a short pole and a miniature tackle box.

“I take back what I said earlier. You’re amazing, T.J.” Amos took the pole and headed for the water.

“Not really. My dad told me there was trout fishing up here, so I came prepared.”

Amos followed a trail that led underneath the old bridge. He put the pole together and baited his hook. “Come on down here, you guys. Watch the master fisherman at work.”

Dunc and T.J. worked their way down the steep trail. Dunc sat down in the shade of the bridge. “The last time I watched the master fisherman, he got his line caught in someone else’s lunch basket. He wound up catching the biggest bologna sandwich on the dock.”

“That was back when I was an amateur. I’m better now. I’ve been practicing.”

“I didn’t know you’d been down to the
dock,” Dunc said. “You didn’t say anything about it.”

“I don’t tell you everything. Besides, I wasn’t practicing at the dock.”

“If it wasn’t at the dock, then where—”

Amos cast out into the stream. “There’s this new program on channel nine. It comes on every afternoon before my mom gets home from work. It’s all about different kinds of fishing techniques.”

“So where have you been practicing?” Dunc asked.

Amos reeled in. “I’ve always been one of those hands-on type learners. You know, actually do the thing while the teacher’s explaining it.”

“I have a feeling he’s trying to tell us he practices in his living room,” T.J. said.

“Oh.” Dunc watched him cast. “What do your parents think of that?”

“I don’t think it would have been that big of a problem if my mom hadn’t come home early with her Welcome Wagon group.”

“What happened?” Dunc asked.

“The show that day was on fly fishing. I made a spectacular cast just as Mrs. Higgins, the mayor’s wife, walked in our front door.
The hook landed on her head. I knew if I didn’t handle it just right, I’d be in trouble. So I gave it a gentle pull and reeled my line back in. The only problem was, her hair came with it. How was I supposed to know Mrs. Higgins was bald?”

T.J. laughed. “Then what happened?”

“Mrs. Higgins wasn’t a very good sport about it. She busted my new pole over my head and stomped out the door. My mother threw out all my fishing gear and said if I ever touched a fishing pole again,
I’d
be bald.”

Dunc was about to remind Amos that he had his hands on a fishing pole when he heard someone talking on the bridge overhead.

“I’ll be glad when we get this shipment ready. Things are getting too dangerous with those kids hanging around. The boss says we can lay low awhile after we get this one out.”

“I don’t think it’s the kids you’re worried about, Jimmy Knox. I think it’s himself. The ghost of Robert Ramsey. Your mother has you scared to death at the mention of his name.”

The two men walked on over the bridge and out of hearing range. Amos recognized the look on Dunc’s face. That look meant trouble.

They were in T.J.’s laboratory. Dunc and T.J. were hovered over a desk making plans. Amos was playing with a remote-control flyswatter.

Dunc looked up. “Pay attention, Amos. You’re not going to know what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to know what’s going on. That way I don’t have to be a part of it.”

T.J. held up a drawing. “Look at this, Amos. It’s a drawing of our secret weapon.”

“I don’t need to look. I know it’s not going to work.”

“What makes you so sure?” T.J. asked.

“Two reasons. First, the odds are bad. Dunc’s never had a plan yet that actually worked. And second, nobody in their right
mind would wander up and down dark secret passages at night with a vicious, people-eating monster running loose.”

Dunc frowned. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s no monster. Besides, we need you for this.”

“As what—bait?”

“Of course not. You have the key role.”

Amos eyed them both suspiciously. “Just what exactly do you have in mind?”

T.J. brought the drawing over. “See, we have this costume—”

Amos took the paper. “That looks like the suit of armor on the stairs.”

Dunc nodded. “It is.”

“Are you both crazy? You want me to wear a suit of armor? It’s too heavy. I won’t be able to move.”

“Isn’t it great, Amos?” T.J. added some detail to the drawing. “Dunc thought of it. He got the idea when Jimmy Knox said he was afraid of the headless ghost, Robert Ramsey.”

“Why do I get stuck with the armor? Why don’t one of you boy geniuses wear it?”

“We thought of that,” T.J. said. “But you’re
the tallest, so it will fit you better, and Dunc and I have other things to do.”

“Like what?”

T.J. picked up something off the table. “Like making sure these antigravity air shoes have enough power to hold you and the suit of armor up in the air. You have to look like you’re floating.”

Amos took one of the shoes and looked it over. “I thought you said you didn’t have all the bugs worked out of these yet.”

T.J. grabbed the shoe. “I will have—by tonight.”

Dunc brought a chair over. “Sit down, Amos. Let me explain the plan.”

Amos slumped down in the chair. “If it’s the usual, I kill myself while looking like a total idiot and you two come out without a scratch.”

“Come on, Amos, it’s getting late.” Dunc pulled him up off the bed. “You have to practice walking. We want to be ready when we hear the noise.”

Amos tapped on the outside of his armor. “I feel like the tin man in
The Wizard of Oz
.” He peeked up over the top of the neckpiece. “I can barely see where I’m going.”

“Let’s try the shoes,” T.J. said. “You activate them by tapping the heels together—”

“Like I said,
The Wizard of Oz
.”

“—and you deactivate them by pulling on the shoestrings. Try it.”

“Shhh.” Dunc put his finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”

A muffled clanking sound came from behind the fireplace.

“That’s it,” Dunc said. “They’re back there somewhere. Now’s our chance to find out what’s going on.”

“But Dunc”—T.J. frowned—“we haven’t had a chance to test it yet. What if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll work.” Dunc led Amos to the fireplace. “Trust me.”

Amos snorted. “You could have gone all night without saying that.”

T.J. grabbed some extra candles and moved inside the fireplace. “Ready or not, here we come.” He pulled the lever and the wall slowly turned around.

Dunc flipped on his flashlight. “It sounds like it’s coming from that direction.” He started off down the dark tunnel.

“Wait for me,” Amos whispered. “I’m carrying a few extra pounds here.”

Dunc trotted back. “Put your arms around us. We’ll help carry some of the weight until we get close.”

T.J. wiggled underneath one of Amos’s arms. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“That’s not what I would call it,” Amos said. “Stupid is more—”

Dunc stopped. “We’re getting closer. The noise is louder. You guys wait here. I’m going up ahead to check things out.”

They waited in the dark for a few minutes. T.J. lit one of his candles. “I wonder what’s taking him so long? Maybe I better make sure he’s okay.”