The Three Investigators and the Secret of the Crooked Cat E-Book

Wiliam Arden

• Herausgeber: Kosmos
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: Die drei ???
• Sprache: Deutsch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Seitenzahl: 179

Beschreibung

Every true "The Three Investigators"-Fan dreams about following the adventures of Jupiter, Pete and Bob in the original American edition. "The Three Investigators and the Secret of the Crooked Cat", finally available for your reading device! The carnival's in town! But for The Three Investigators, it's not just fun and games. A thief runs off with a carnival prize – an oddly shaped stuffed cat. The boys suspect the cat holds a clue to a much more valuable prize- one worth thousands of dollars! Jupiter, Pete and Bob rush in eagerly to catch the crook – only to find the carnival loaded with dangerous traps!

Leseprobe

Albert Hitfield and The Three Investigators in

The Secret of the Crooked Cat

Text by William Arden

Kosmos

Umschlagillustration von Aiga Rasch (9.Juli 1941–24.Dezember 2009)

Umschlaggestaltung: eStudio Calamar, Girona,

auf der Grundlage der Gestaltung von Aiga Rasch, Leinfelden-Echterdingen

Grundlayout: DOPPELPUNKT, Stuttgart

Titel der Originalausgabe:

“Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators in The Secret of the Crooked Cat”

© 1970, by Random House, Inc., New York

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Leicht veränderte Neuauflage der amerikanischen Originalauflage

© 2015, Franckh-Kosmos Verlags-GmbH & Co. KG, Stuttgart

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Mit freundlicher Genehmigung der Universität Michigan

Based on characters by Robert Arthur.

ISBN 978-3-440-14787-0

eBook-Konvertierung: le-tex publishing services GmbH, Leipzig

A Word from Albert Hitfield

Welcome, mystery lovers! It is my pleasure once again to introduce the trio of lads who call themselves The Three Investigators. “We Investigate Anything” is their motto – and so they do, whether invited to or not. That is why, presumably, they started snooping around an accident-prone carnival, poking their noses into other people’s mysterious business, ferreting out the secret of a stuffed crooked cat, eavesdropping –

But I am wrong to denigrate their youthful enthusiasm. They are good lads, if a trifle overcurious. In case you are meeting them for the first time, I should tell you that Jupiter Jones, the overweight leader of The Three Investigators, is known for his remarkable brain power. Pete Crenshaw is tall and muscular and excels at athletics. Bob Andrews, the smallest of the three, attends to research and keeps records for the group, but has the courage of a lion when danger threatens.

All three make their home in Rocky Beach, a small municipality in California a few miles from Hollywood. Their Headquarters is a mobile home trailer in The Jones Salvage Yard, a super junkyard owned by Jupiter’s aunt and uncle.

If The Three Investigators had stopped to think that the mysterious crooked cat was leading them into their thirteenth case, they might have been less nosy. Bad luck attended them throughout – but I will say no more. I am sure you are anxious to dispense with this preview and proceed to the main feature.

Albert Hitfield

Carnival!

On an afternoon in early September, Jupiter Jones and Pete Crenshaw were busily working in Jupiter’s workshop in The Jones Salvage Yard. To be honest, Jupiter was working while Pete watched, and it was Pete who first saw Uncle Titus Jones staggering up to them carrying two big wooden tubs.

“Boys,” Uncle Titus announced as he plunked down the two tubs in front of them, “I have a job for you. I want these tubs painted in red, white, and blue stripes!”

Pete gaped at the tubs. “Stripes on washtubs?”

“You mean right now, Uncle Titus?” Jupiter asked.

The stocky boy looked glumly at the array of tiny electronic parts on his workbench.

“Jupe’s building a new thingamajig for The Three Investigators,” Pete explained to Uncle Titus.

“A new invention, eh?” Uncle Titus said, momentarily distracted from his washtubs. “What is it, Pete?”

“Who knows? Gosh, you know Jupiter,” Pete exclaimed. “I’m just the helper. Who tells me anything?”

Jupiter, the First Investigator of the boys’ junior detective firm, liked to keep his inventions secret until he was sure that they would work. He hated to fail. He also hated to stop one of his projects before it was finished.

“Couldn’t we paint the tubs later, Uncle Titus?” he now asked unhappily.

“No, they must be ready for tonight. Of course, if you boys are so busy, I could have Hans or Konrad paint them.” Uncle Titus was referring to the big Bavarian brothers who helped in the salvage yard. His eyes twinkled suddenly. “But then they’d deliver the tubs, too. That would be only fair.”

Jupiter became alert. “Is there something special about who bought the tubs, Uncle Titus?”

“I know,” Pete said. “It’s a patriotic laundry!”

“Or holiday boats for midgets!” Jupiter chimed in.

Uncle Titus grinned. “What would you say if I said they were seats for a lion?”

“Oh, sure,” Pete said with a laugh. “Every lion needs a red, white, and blue easy chair.”

Jupiter stopped laughing. A sudden light dawned in his eyes. “Of course! Turned upside down and painted, those tubs would be perfect as seats for a lion in a circus!”

“Wow! A circus!” Pete exclaimed. “Maybe they’d show us around if we deliver the tubs.”

Uncle Titus chuckled at the effect of his news. “Well, now, boys, it’s not a real circus, just a carnival. But it does have performing shows, as well as rides and games. It opened here in Rocky Beach last night. The lion trainer lost the pedestals for his trained lion in a fire or something. When he couldn’t find any pedestals in town, he called us, and I thought of the tubs!”

Uncle Titus beamed happily. He always boasted that The Jones Salvage Yard had almost everything in its piles of junk, and nothing pleased him more than to have some seemingly useless item prove valuable to someone.

“A carnival,” Jupiter pronounced, “is a most unique and fascinating organization with ancient origins.”

“I guess you mean it’s fun, Jupe,” Pete said with a groan. The Second Investigator didn’t always understand Jupiter’s way of speaking. “Carson’s Colossal Carnival! I remember now. I saw it setting up in that big lot on the waterfront next to the old amusement park they closed down.”

“Maybe we could go behind the scenes,” Jupiter said.

“Then what are we waiting for, Jupe?” Pete cried. “I’ll get the paint, you get the spray guns.”

The boys went to work with a will, and half an hour later the tubs were painted. While they were drying, Jupiter and Pete went into their secret Headquarters to see how much money they had to spend at the carnival.

Headquarters was an old mobile home trailer, completely hidden behind mounds of junk in a remote corner of the salvage yard. The boys could only enter by secret passages through the junk. By now everyone else had forgotten the trailer was there.

When the tubs were ready, Pete bicycled to the Rocky Beach Public Library to tell Bob Andrews about the carnival. Bob, the Records and Research man of The Three Investigators, worked part-time at the library during the summer. Bob was as much excited by the plans as Pete and Jupiter and rushed home as soon as he was off duty. All three boys hurried through their dinners. By seven-thirty they were on their way with the painted tubs balanced precariously on two of their bicycles.

While they were still some blocks away, they could see the sagging towers and crumbling old roller coaster of the abandoned amusement park next to the carnival. The carnival itself was pitched in a vacant lot beside the ocean. It wasn’t yet open. Tents, wooden booths, and rides lined both sides of two wide walkways inside a temporary fence. Lights blazed up into the early twilight, and the music of the carousel played to entice the crowd. The empty Ferris wheel was already turning. Two clowns cavorted along one of the walkways. Everyone was warming up for the opening.

The boys located the lion trainer’s tent, emblazoned with a gaudy red banner that proclaimed: The Great Ivan and Rajah – The World’s Greatest Performing Lion!! As they entered, a tall man in a bright blue uniform and gleaming black boots hurried toward them, his fierce mustache bristling.

“So, the tubs! Perfect! Give them to me!”

“The Jones Salvage Yard has what you want,” Jupiter said, announcing Uncle Titus’s slogan for the yard.

The Great Ivan laughed. “That sounds like one of our barkers, young man.”

“What’s a barker, sir?” Pete asked.

“Well, son, suppose you try to guess,” The Great Ivan said.

“I’ll bet Jupe knows,” Bob declared.

Both Bob and Pete had learned that Jupiter usually knew a little about everything, and the stocky leader of the trio wasn’t bashful about telling what he knew.

“A barker,” Jupiter now pronounced, “is a man who stands outside a circus or carnival sideshow and tells people how exciting it is inside. You could say it was an ancient form of advertising.”

“Very good, young man,” The Great Ivan said. “Sometimes we call them ‘spielers’ or ‘pitchmen,’ and sometimes they lie, but not the good ones. My barker, for instance, doesn’t tell people that Rajah is a ferocious lion, he just tells them some of what Rajah can do. Did you ever see a lion on a trapeze?”

“Wow! Can Rajah ride a trapeze?” Pete exclaimed.

“He can,” The Great Ivan boasted. “First show in an hour, boys. Come as my guests. Perhaps you can touch Rajah even.”

“We’ll be here, sir!” Bob promised eagerly.

Outside, the carnival had just opened, and the barkers were announcing the attractions to the few early arrivals. The boys rode the Whip and the Ferris wheel and tried the carousel twice. They vied for the brass ring, but only Pete got one. They watched the antics of one small, fat clown for a time, then went toward the game booths where prizes could be won for dart and baseball throwing, ring tossing, and rifle shooting.

“The games must be fake, fellows,” Bob observed after he had watched for a time. “They look too easy.”

“No,” Jupiter explained, “it’s simply that they’re much more difficult than they seem. A matter of mathematics and physics, Records. The odds –”

The rest of Jupiter’s explanation was drowned out by a sudden shouting in front of them.

“You’re a cheat! Give me that prize!”

Ahead of them was a tall, older man in a slouch hat. He had a thick, bushy mustache and wore dark glasses, even though it was almost dark. He was shouting at the blond boy who operated the shooting gallery. Suddenly he grabbed a stuffed animal from the boy’s hands and ran straight toward The Three Investigators.

The blond boy shouted, “Stop him! Thief! Guards!”

Stop Thief!

“Look out!” Pete cried.

His warning came too late. The running old man, looking behind him for pursuit, ran full tilt into Jupiter. They both fell in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Ooooooff!” Jupiter grunted.