Secret Of Bradbury Mansion: Mike Stevens - Teenage Sleuth

By Thurman Lamb

Before rising to leave, he warned, “I almost forgot about the curse.”
“Curse?” gasped Cathy. “What curse?”

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483526812

Book preview

9781483526812

CHAPTER I

I live in a one-horse town called Mineville, population about two thousand. What excitement there was you had to create yourself. But, I suppose, if you like the country, this is the place to be.

I was the only child in my family, and my father was Daniel Stevens, the best private investigator in the business (my opinion, anyway). Although we lived in a small town, his reputation was known far and wide. It wasn’t unusual for him to receive a case from as far away as California. And, ever since I was old enough to understand, he started teaching me the business.

Even my father was amazed at my ability to grasp the essentials. He told me quite often that I had a mind a criminologist would envy. And so it was, that while taking an experimental course in criminology which the school had instituted that summer, I was surprised and delighted--as were the other students in my class--to learn we were to spend the entire day within the walls of a prison. Excited at the prospect of this venture, we piled out of the school and onto the waiting bus.

As usual, I sat beside my friend, Thomas Bets. He was also sixteen, five-foot-six, with coal, black hair and skin tanned to a deep, golden brown. This should be exciting, don’t you think? he asked.

It’s already exciting for me! Imagine! Actually being inside a prison! I wonder if they’ll let us talk to any of the prisoners?

That would be fun, conceded Tom. Why don’t you ask Mrs. Hollis?

Why not! I acknowledged as I walked to the front of the bus.

Glad to see you’re so interested, Michael. But, then again, you would be. And I have already received permission from the warden. A couple of the prisoners have agreed to talk about their cases with the class.

Thank you, Mrs. Hollis. Elated by this information, I related the conversation to Tom.

Before beginning our tour, Mrs. Hollis informed us that we were to do a report on prison life as a project for the term.

###

And this, continued the guard, is Robert Bradbury. He’s agreed to talk to you and is willing to answer any questions you may have.

Mr. Bradbury gazed at us through piercing black eyes. He was about twenty-seven or eight, brown hair, and had a haggard look about him. Apparently, he hadn’t slept in days. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes red. But, despite these discrepancies, he was a very handsome man.

Tom and I listened intently as he began his story.

It began the day before I was suppose to have killed my brother. Harold and I had a violent argument which, it seems, the entire household overheard. One word led to another and I practically kicked my brother out of the house. The next evening Mrs. Warren went up to the library to bring me a message. And when she received no answer to her knock, she went in.

Excuse me, sir, I interrupted. Why would she do that without being invited? Wouldn’t she search you out instead?

That’s just it! I told her I’d be there if she needed me. Thinking I had only stepped out for a minute, she went in to leave the message on my desk. The library was in a state of complete chaos. Naturally, she was alarmed and decided to call the police immediately. Upon their investigations, they found my gun near the fireplace. Two bullets were missing from its chambers. They said it had been fired recently. And I haven’t used it since I bought it two years ago. And, draped over one of the chairs they found my suit coat with my brother’s blood smeared on the sleeve. And...

Mr. Bradbury? If you weren’t in the library, where were you?

He gazed at me intently. Walking! Just out walking! No one saw me, so I have no alibi. The gun was mine and my fingerprints were found on the handle.

###

Tom, shouted one of the boys as we boarded the school bus, come on back here and sit with us!

I’ll sit here if you don’t mind, Lenny! Turning to me, he added, He doesn’t like you much, does he?

No, he doesn’t. I laughed. And I’ve tried everything to be friends with him. Any ideas?

A few. The trouble with Lenny is that he likes to be the center of attention. But with you around, he can’t. You’re one of the most popular and brightest guys in school and he resents it. His idea of a friend is someone who will follow him and do as he says. You just aren’t a follower.

After a few minutes hesitation, I queried, Tom? What do you think about this case against Mr. Bradbury?

I don’t know. All the evidence seems to point to...

Oh, hang the evidence! I shouted. I turned red with embarrassment as I felt the eyes of the students glance in our direction. Lowering my voice, I asked, Didn’t anything strike you odd about his story?

Not really. Why?

There were only four sets of eyes riveted upon us now--four keenly interested people--Patricia White and Alice Bates, seated across the aisle from us, and Cathy and Wayne Burns, seated directly ahead of us.

Doesn’t it seem odd that nobody heard those shots--two, mind you--that were fired from that gun?

Suppose the door was closed and the shots were muffled, whispered Patricia, a pretty, four-foot-five girl with long, black hair.

I thought of that, too. But an argument which took place in that very room was overheard. And, by the entire household. Surely, if an argument could be overheard, the shots of a revolver would be almost deafening--if it were fired in the house at all.

Say, that’s right! Cathy’s piercing blue eyes gazed at me in bewilderment. Pushing her long, blond hair from her face, she asked, But what about the other evidence? It is quite convincing.

Yes, I replied thoughtfully. You know, as long as we have to write a report on prison life, why don’t we do one on Mr. Bradbury? We could find out about the trial through the newspapers. I’m sure they will let us go through their back issues. Why don’t we ask Mrs. Hollis when we get back to school? See what she thinks of the idea.

###

And, what do you have in mind? questioned Mrs. Hollis.

We would like to investigate the evidence against Mr. Bradbury. I believe he’s innocent, but would like to find out one way or the other."

The twinkle in her blue eyes was evident as she addressed me. And how, may I ask, do you intend to do that?

She listened attentively, nodding her gray head at intervals, as we explained. Mrs. Hollis was a fairly new teacher at our school, having been there only two years. Already, she was well liked by students and faculty alike. She was only four-foot-four, but her exuberance for life and her dedication to students and career, made her a giant in our eyes.

And you all want to work on this assignment?

Yes, Ma’am, assented Wayne, Cathy’s twin brother. He had dark, blond hair and blue eyes, was five-foot-four, ten inches taller than his sister.

Very well. I’m glad to see you’re taking such an active interest in your work. And, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.

###

The stocky, gray-haired little man at the newspaper morgue peered at us over his spectacles. School assignment, eh?

Yes, sir. My name is Michael Stevens. And these are my friends. I introduced them. We’d like to look at the issues on the Bradbury case.

Ah, yes. I think I know just where to lay my hands on those.

Great! That’ll save us a lot of digging.

Apparently, the case wasn’t all that spectacular. Only one issue carried the story on the front page; after that they were buried in the back.

Hey, Mike, here’s something Mr. Bradbury didn’t tell us.

I took the paper from Patricia. Aloud I read, Mrs Mabel Warren told the jury today that she heard Robert Bradbury state that if his brother did not leave the house, he would have him killed.

Well, now, stated Wayne, it certainly does look like Mr. Bradbury had every intention of killing his brother.

Yes, I replied, thoughtfully. Maybe he’s not as innocent as I thought."

CHAPTER II

Well? Wayne inquired. What now? Write him off as guilty?

I don’t know, I replied as we left the newspaper office. Everything does seem to point toward his guilt. But I’m still not convinced. I think we should have another talk with Mr. Bradbury. We’ll have Mrs. Hollis arrange it.

###

The prison was about five miles from our hometown. It was a beautiful Saturday morning for the month of May, so we decided to ride out bikes the short distance.

Tom isn’t here yet? queried Alice. She was a pretty redhead with pale, green eyes. We had decided to meet at my house.

Tom won’t be able to make it, I answered. Softball practice. Shall we be on our way? We have an appointment with Mr. Bradbury at eleven o’clock.

Do you think they’ll let us all in? asked Cathy.

Mrs. Hollis said the warden agreed to it.

###

Soon, we