The HQ Mystery

A Strange Encounter

June and Jean peered out of the window. There was nothing interesting, and so they resumed their rocking on the arm chairs.

“It’s so dull,” said Jean to his twin sister.

“Life, somehow, isn’t quite the same when Mom and Dad are not home,” agreed June.

“I don’t think they’ll be back before night,” shot back the depressed boy.

“Yes, Dad’s out of town and his train won’t be in before seven. And Mom’s gone to visit the sick aunt – she’s likely to stay with her till late evening,” reasoned June.

Suddenly, June had an idea. “Jean,” she said in a bit of excitement, “why don’t we go out for a stroll along the main lane? The circus is beginning the day after, and we might see the men pitching their tents, feeding the animals, and other interesting things.”

“That’s an idea – not a bad one,” agreed the somber boy. “At least we can pass an hour or two in a less boring way. I’ve finished all my school work, and I haven’t a thing to do.”

“The same story here too, Jean,” said his sister. “And I don’t even have a new book or a new game! So, hurry up – we may as well amuse ourselves watching elephants and tigers and clowns!”

In less than ten minutes, the fourteen-year-old twins were on the road. They turned at the corner and were going to cross the by-lane that led to the main path leading to the open ground.

“It’s a bit dark and lonely here,” said June.

“No one passes this way,” explained Jean. “They prefer the parallel road – it’s broader and cleaner.”

“Well, the short-cut suits us admirably,” quipped his sister.

Very unexpectedly, they heard low whispers. At first, they paid no notice, but the faint voices got clearer – If not louder – as they proceeded.

They did not particularly want to listen to what the unseen men were saying in hushed tones, but they could not help overhearing a few words that wafted into their ears.

“Where? How shall I know?” said a somewhat deep and grown-up voice.

“Read the writing on the wall.” replied a younger voice. Then he added, even more softly, what sounded like ‘HQ’.

Suddenly, the men hurried off in the direction of Jean and June, nearly bumping into them.

“Er – sorry,“ said the younger man, who was a bit shabbily dressed.

“It’s all right, Sir,” said the twins politely.

Suddenly they saw what looked like a flash of alarm in the other man’s eyes. He was older, and better in his dress and appearance.

But the fear in his eyes was momentary; the next moment he had changed into a pleasant, smiling and amiable ‘elderly uncle’.

“Did you hear anything?” he asked sweetly.

“I don’t get your meaning, Sir,” said June, a bit surprised at the sudden question.

“I was having a chit-chat with my uncle,” said the youth. “About painting the walls…”

A warning blaze shot from the other’s eyes, and the young man sank into a fearful silence.

“Did you paint the walls? It’s nice, very nice,” said Jean, looking at the neatly painted walls that ran along the boundary of the lane.

“Well, yes – and I just wanted to tell you to keep it clean,” said the old one.

“We certainly will. We don’t spit on it or write with crayons on it  ─  as some silly people do,” promised the siblings. They were horrified at the thought of someone dirtying the beautiful walls.

“That’s all,” said the man. “Bye. Where are you going, if I may ask?”

“Just to see the circus tents being pitched on the ground. This is a short-cut from our house,” said Jean.

“Well, good bye…,” said the two and disappeared in a trice.

The children sauntered along. “What did they mean – whether we heard something?” wondered Jean.

“It baffles me. All that I heard was reading something on the wall and HQ,” said June.

“Probably, he meant the head-quarters of the company that has employed them to paint the walls.”

“Very likely. And there’s nothing to read…”

They had come to the vast stretch of open ground. For the next hour or two, they amused themselves, enjoying the busy circus people shouting to one another, running to-and-fro and feeding the animals. Jean and June became engrossed completely in the hustle and bustle of the hectic activity.

They returned home, had a shower and finished their dinner. They could have retired to bed, for they felt a bit tired after all the excitement, but they wanted to meet their parents and at least kiss them good night.

Dad returned first, and they had some fun discussing about his journey. The checker had caught a ticketless tripper, and Dad was describing how he was taken to the railway police.

After about half-an-hour came Mom, and June politely enquired about the condition of the ailing aunt. Then Mom broke the big news:

“I heard some strange news. It seems that a bank was robbed, and the loot hidden somewhere. The police did catch two men near the circus-ground, but nothing was found on them. The booty had already been passed on to some accomplice of theirs – and, despite tough interrogation, they are not talking.”

“When was the robbery committed, Mom?” asked the children.

“I don’t exactly know. Perhaps the TV may help us,” replied Mom.

They switched on the TV. While the parents were listening intently to the news of the great robbery, the twins were only half interested – for their eyes were riveted upon the pictures of the two men whom the police had apprehended. It was unmistakable – they were the two men whom they had met earlier that day on their way to the open ground where circus people were pitching their tents. They had talked to them about keeping the walls clean, and had earlier been whispering to each other about reading the walls and HQ – or something of the sort.

The mystery enthralled the children and stirred their imagination!

 The Mystery Begins

They went to bed and soon fell sleep. They were too tired to think of the mystery. And anyway – they thought – what could they do except tell their parents? Even if they told the police, it would be no good. It would just prove that the two men were together at the spot at that particular hour, and the police already knew that. It was from there that they had been arrested.

The next day, the newspaper brought more details. It seemed that once the police recovered the loot – stacks of currency notes and bars of gold – everything would be fine, and the men could be hauled to the court. The only problem was to find out where they had hidden the booty, for all other details of the crime were as clear as daylight!

The children discussed the matter over after breakfast.

“We could have just raised an alarm and got them arrested,” said Jean.

“Only if we had known that they were robbers at that time, which we didn’t,” pointed out June reasonably.

“Anyway, I did find them a bit weird - talking about painting walls and HQ.”

“I did find that a bit odd, too. Anyway, they were caught soon after,” said June.

“Let’s see how soon after we met the duo did the police catch them,” said Jean.

They once again immersed themselves in the newspaper, and then June spoke up, a bit astonished:

“Guess what? They were arrested more than three hours after we brushed against them.”

“But they hurried away after they spoke to us – did they again come back?” Jean wondered aloud.

“But why? Was it because they had left some task unfinished?” asked an amazed June.

“Maybe we interrupted them, and they wanted to do something after we went away,” suggested Jean.

”But we moved away right then. They could have easily done whatever they wanted to. That would have been less risky…,” said June.

“Instead, they choose to come back and, like fools, they get caught. No, it doesn’t make sense, June. They are no fools – simply cannot be,” said Jean, shaking his head slowly.

”Yes, criminals are usually very clever. It is really unbelievable that they would take any risk unless it was absolutely essential. There must be some good reason for their return to the place.”

After a brainstorming session, they got an idea.

“Can we find out what they were exactly doing when they were arrested?” mused Jean.

“Oh, that’s easy,” said June. “The inspector’s son takes music lessons under Miss Skein with me. I’ll ask him.”

“Could you phone him right now?” asked Jean.

“If that’s important and urgent, yes,” June said and went to the phone. She returned within five minutes.

“Good luck, Jean” she said. “Apparently, he too is interested in the affair, and his father has been telling him everything about it. Can you even guess what the men were doing when they were caught?”

“I can’t think…,” Jean gave up.

 â€œWell, they were painting. At least, the young man was, and the older man was arrested from some nearby hideout.”

“Painting? Painting! After they had done it so nicely a few hours before?” wondered Jean in disbelief.

“And that reminds me of something I wanted to tell you. I’d been thinking about it. I don’t think it was they who painted the wall. Criminals don’t do such civic services,” June said.

“Yes, I remember,” said Jean. “The young man accidentally blurted out about painting, and the older man saw red. Yes, I saw fear leap into his eyes. But yet they were found painting – it’s a fact, June.”

“They were talking of the second painting –that’s what they were doing when they were arrested. The young man made a bad slip when he told us the truth, and the older man – being wiser – just told us some rigmarole to cover it up.”

“Then who did the first painting?” demanded Jean.

“Use your common sense, Jean,” said June with a laugh. “Who could do it but the municipal people?”

“We don’t usually go that way except when there’s a fair or circus or something. Someone who uses the path regularly may tell us something,” mused Jean aloud.

“I can do better than that,” reassured June. “You know Sid, the boy who always runs about the open ground. He’s sure to have noticed when it was painted. It would have taken a whole day or even two days to do the entire wall.”

“Let’s go and ask him. And a bonus point in that is – his father is in the town municipality,” remarked Jean with delight.

“But I think he’s ill ─ laid down with flu or something,” said June. “But that’s all the more reason for visiting him. We don’t need to appear to be prying into this matter. We will just call on him to wish him recovery!”

They asked their Mother, and were provided with a bunch of apples and a bouquet of flowers as get-well gifts for the boy.

Sid’s mother was delighted when she saw June and Jean. Sid had been feeling a bit low, getting bored in bed all day.  It would do him good to forget fretting and talk to someone for a while.

She left the three of them gossiping together, and went into the kitchen to make some hot cocoa for them. In the course of talk, June casually brought up the subject of the wall.

“We noticed yesterday that it was freshly painted. Do you know when it was done, Sid?”

“Oh, yes. It was done just three days ago. And my Dad was in charge of it!” he said proudly.

After some more sweet nothings, they took leave.

“So, the wall was painted by the municipality three days ago, not by the thieves yesterday. Why should they think they can read something on the wall, and why should they think of painting it a second time?” wondered Jean.

“I don’t think they wanted to paint the whole wall. Probably they were just pretending to paint it so that people wouldn’t take notice. If you saw two men loitering, you may get suspicious – but if they’re painting a wall or repairing the road or something, you would naturally assume they were municipal people,” said June.

“But what can you read on a freshly painted wall? And what headquarters, if they meant headquarters by HQ?” asked Jean.

“I’m not sure they said HQ. It sounded something like HQ, but we were not really listening. As for reading the writing on the wall – I believe there’s an idiom or phrase or whatever in English, read the writing on the wall.”

June frowned and knitted her eyebrows, trying to think hard where she had heard the idiom read the writing on the wall. At last she said:

“I got it. It means clear signs or hints that something is likely to happen.”

And they wondered whether the men meant they knew they would be arrested!

The Secret Clue

In the afternoon, June had an idea. She said to her twin-brother:

”Jean, why don’t we go and examine the wall? Perhaps it’ll suggest some idea – though I don’t think it’s likely!”

They went and examined the stretch of the freshly painted white wall. As usual, very few people passed that way.

Suddenly, Jean called out to his sister, “Look here, June. While the rest of the wall is done neatly, this looks like a bit of clumsy work done in haste!”

They carefully examined that patch. There was a small area of the wall, where painting was definitely amateurish. They stood and wondered why the men had painted that again. Was it some kind of hint or code or message?

Suddenly, June had an idea.

“I think the repainting may have been to hide something underneath,” said June.

“Then I’ll scrape it a bit,” said Jean.

“Be very careful, lest you scrape the writing underneath – not that I’m sure there would be any,” said June.

Jean nodded and proceeded to carefully scrape a bit of the area.

He noticed something black in contrast to the surrounding area. He scraped more and more – even more cautiously. At last they saw a faint black H. But there wasn’t anything else.

“Is that H related to HQ they were talking about” wondered the boy.

Suddenly, June had a brainwave. “Jean, I’ve a smashing idea. It may or may not be the right solution – but it’s worth considering. We have got H. Now, as to the Q, I think they meant CUE, that is, a hint.”

“But what cue or hint do you get here, June?” asked Jean.

“Scrape round a little more – we may get something,” said June. But even after scraping for more than ten minutes, they could get nothing.

They stood, looking into vacant space and thinking.

Suddenly Jean said, “I think H is a code or symbol. What could H possibly stand for?”

They could not for the world think what could H stand for. Then June had another brainwave.

“Jean, if my assumption is correct – it was H-cue, and not HQ – then I wonder if there’s anything under that black H?”

She ran her finger over that black letter on the wall, and noticed with horror that her finger was slightly blackened with soot.

“It would be easy to remove the H with some damp cloth,” said the girl.

They proceeded to work with their hankies soaked in water from the nearby tube-well, and soon found an interesting message below the veneer of the black H. It said, at 1 - 3 rt.

 The kids were now really thrilled. They had laid their hands on some concrete and tangible clue to the robbery. It was a precious find, even though they were in the dark as to what it meant.

June said:

“So, the story of the dark deed unfolds. They commit the robbery, and pass on the gold and cash to an accomplice. They fear they may be arrested, and want the booty to be safe.  The accomplice cleverly hides the plundered wealth somewhere and it is arranged that he will leave a clue of its whereabouts in a coded message on this wall hidden beneath a layer of soot.”

And Jean enthusiastically continued, “They remove the soot, read the message, apply black soot again, and repaint with white as planned earlier. But why soot? It is strange idea!”

“Not at all, Jean. If someone happened to pass that way before the two arrived, they would see the soot – not the message. And the soot would also tell them exactly where the message is etched. Gosh, Jean – what idiots we are!”

Jean was taken back. “Is it some new self-realization?” he asked in a bemused tone.   

June spoke rapidly, “It was not HQ. It was ETCH CUE or ETCHED CUE. It’s probably an agreed method of communication among the gang members.”

“But why soot, June? They could have painted it over and their gang members could have just scraped it off - as we did,” persisted Jean, totally flummoxed by the gang members’ awkward choice of soot.

June smiled with weary patience.

“No, Jean, there would be problems. First, these men would have to scour the whole wall in order to identify the exact spot where the code is etched. Secondly, they would have to scrape it very, very slowly and carefully - as you yourself did just now.”

“And they were in haste, already anticipating their arrest any time,” said an enlightened Jean.

“Yes, the men were on the run, and would naturally want to do the job as quickly as possible and scoot off. As we saw, it just required a damp cloth to remove the soot and look underneath.”

“It was while repainting to cover up the soot that they were caught!” said Jean.

“But then they had to repaint it – just in case someone happened to observe it or accidentally wipe it off – or in case it was washed off in a shower,” explained the bright girl.

“Yes, we’ve rains almost every alternate day now-a-days, don’t we? But still it took time,” said Jean.

“That was a risk they had to take. Anyway, dabbing a coat of paint wouldn’t take nearly so much time as carefully and meticulously scraping off the surface layer, not to mention the time wasted in locating the exact spot on the wall. But luck was against them, and they were held. These clever devils had anticipated the possibility…,” said June.

“Well, June, even now we’re none the wiser. We don’t know what that coded message means,” pointed out the realistic Jean.

“That’s true,” agreed June. “Let’s go home and brood over it. If we fail, we can just tell the police what we’ve found.”

They went home and racked their brains in their study room.

A Brainwave

Jean said slowly, “Could at 1 mean at 1 O’ clock?”

“A good idea, but not good enough, I think. If it’s an appointment, then at 1 would mean the time. But we’re looking for the location, not the time,” said June.

“Is there any place called 1?” Jean wondered.

“There could be, in their code. If they had preplanned some locations for hiding the loots, and agreed to designate them with serial numbers, then at 1 would refer to a place,” said June.

“They must be super-planners, if they had prepared a ready list of places for hiding the loot. Is it their first robbery?” asked Jean.

June had no idea, but once again she telephoned the inspector’s son. She returned with the information that they had committed two more robberies previously, and the loot of the first robbery was as yet untraced. The gang was arrested, but three men were acquitted for want of evidence – while the others were still in prison.

“The first hiding place must have really been a clever one. They should bury any loot there every time,” said Jean.

June gave a shriek, and Jean was frightened. “Do you have a toothache or something?” he asked, totally mystified.

She suddenly hugged an astonished Jean and said, “You’ve hit the nail on the head, Jean. That’s what it means. I’m almost sure that we have struck the right solution! Thanks for your smashing idea.”

“But I haven’t said anything clever, June. Are you being funny, or are you pulling my leg?” he asked, completely bewildered.

“You’ve suggested a marvelously unique solution, Jean. It is extremely possible – even probable – that 1 means the place where the first loot was hidden.”

“And which hasn’t been traced yet!” bemoaned a pessimistic Jean.  â€œBut if that’s found, then 3 rt might mean 3 feet or 3 meters right of that spot.”

“Let’s see. Of the gang members, only three were freely roaming, others were in jail,” reasoned June. “Again two among them, our pleasant friends, are in police custody. So only one man is now at large. If we could see the photos of all the members who were arrested and of those who were convicted, we could identify the one remaining man who was entrusted with the task of safely concealing the booty!”

“And so, back to your goldmine of resource – the inspector’s son!” said Jean.

“Not necessarily,” said June. “We could search out from the old newspapers at the public library.”

“Nothing like the present – let’s go now!” said an impatient Jean.

They went, after casually ascertaining from their parents the approximate dates of the earlier robberies. And after more than two hours of intense research work, they got what they wanted.

“So, they were a gang of six. And these two are our friends, now in custody. These men are serving their sentences. So this man is the one who is free; he is the one who has hidden the wealth, and written that message on the wall under a layer of soot!” said June.

“And notwithstanding all this brainwork, we’re no nearer to getting even a sniff of the loot or the man!” lamented Jean.

Suddenly June took out her cell-phone, and clicked a snap of the man who was still at large.

Jean was startled. “What’s the big idea, June? Want to roam the town all over and track him down?”

June smiled. “I vaguely seem to remember having seen the face somewhere – though I can’t guess where.”

They returned home, and had a wonderful tea. Then they went to their studies and began to discuss.

“Jean,” appealed his sister, “please help me recall where we’ve seen that face.”

“I’m hardly the right person for this job!” said Jean apologetically. “You’re good at remembering faces, I’m not!”

“Well, let’s proceed methodically. First, have we seen this face anywhere near our school?” asked June.

“Not likely. For in that case you must have seen the face quite a number of times, and you wouldn’t be so muddled about it,” said Jean.

“Wonderful, Jean. Really brilliant,” said June. “I can’t have seen them on way to school, for the same reason.”

“What’s left? They can’t be one of our relations, surely, for nothing has disappeared from our home,” said Jean with a chuckle.

“Definitely not! It’s somewhere we have gone only once or twice – and the person was someone unimportant – such as the bus driver or a beggar by the street, of whom we wouldn’t take much notice,” said June, her reasoning as clear as usual.

“I would say he was probably a vendor from whom you bought some tit-bits. It is quite natural that you would notice the eatables - and not the man!” teased Jean.

“You’ve got something there. It’s quite possible, distinctly possible,” agreed June, quite failing to see the humor in it. “It can’t be a place from where we buy regularly, and it can’t be …. Gosh, I’ve got it!”

“You always make me jump with strange noises. What did you get, June?” asked the perplexed boy.

“It could have been someone in the open ground by Steeple Street. Remember, we went there last year - and before that we may have gone there as toddlers, for all I know!” said June.

“Then it was the pop-corn man,” surmised Jean. “He gave me pop-corns in a packet which had a hole in it; and each time I took one from the top, one fell out from the bottom.”

“Probably you’re right! Whoever said you can’t remember faces? You are simply scintillating!”

“I don’t remember his face, but I definitely remember how much pop-corn I lost. It was just a wild shot!” said Jean.

“You’re none the worse for having consumed a few calories less,” said June teasingly. “But I just want to make sure it is he.”

“But, look here – surely a robber need not earn his living by selling pop-corns,” said Jean in disbelief.

“Not necessarily,” explained June. “Robberies are committed months apart, and in the interval they need to do something simple so that policemen won’t suspect and common folks won’t gossip about their source of livelihood. This could be a cover up to make people believe in their innocence.”

“Yes, you’ve a point there. Now, do we go and see our man? If he again gives me a packet with a hole, I’d punch a few holes in him, for sure!” said Jean in a sudden flare-up.

“We could buy pop-corns, that would give us a chance to look at his face more closely,” suggested June.

So the twins set off for the ground which was always full of vendors, one of whom was a member of a dangerous gang.

 Off to the Steeple Grounds

They reached the ground, planning very earnestly how they should approach the matter. Since he was known to the police, having been arrested and subsequently acquitted on an earlier occasion, it would be useless to inform the police that the man was selling pop-corns or something else on the ground. Most probably the police knew it, but did not want to arrest him for some reason. They couldn’t very well go and ask him where he had buried the ill-gotten treasure.  The affair bristled with difficulties!

Well, they would at least go and satisfy themselves as to whether he was the same man whose photograph was published as one of the accused in the old newspaper and which June had captured in her cell-phone. The next step could be decided later.

They came to the ground, bustling with vendors. Every conceivable item was being sold by hawkers on that vast stretch of uneven terrain.

“Have you got enough money to buy something from every suspicious stall?” asked Jean. “I’ve a little – but it may not be enough.

“Oh, we don’t really need much,” June assured him. “We need not approach the stalls run by women or even aged people. We need a young man below thirty. And even then we can always pretend to examine the goods and decide to move on without buying any.”

“That would look more natural,” agreed Jean, “even if it’s a bit unkind.”

They moved casually along the neatly lined stalls, but could not find their quarry anywhere. They emerged into a vast open space, dimly lit, with no stalls or hawkers.

Suddenly Jean clutched her hand. “Did you see the H,” he asked

“What H?” exclaimed June, not quite comprehending.

“See the pattern of stalls,” explained Jean at length. “The two lines, starting from the ice-cream vendor to the bracelet-selling girl on the left, and from the chop-seller to the ribbon-seller on the right, these form the vertical limbs of the letter H. Again, the line of five hawkers, from the woman selling pizzas to the man selling chicken-rolls, form the horizontal cross-line connecting the limbs of H. A perfect H, if there was one.”

June stared open-mouthed. So that was the mystery of H. Whether they said H or etch, the smear of soot covering the strange message was distinctly an H.

But they could not find their man anywhere. Nor could they see any pop-corn stall.

After roaming aimlessly, they asked the woman selling hot noodles, “We want to buy some pop-corns, but can’t find pop-corns anywhere.”

“Ah, that man – he hasn’t been here for the last three days – maybe he’s ill. Never mind, noodles are better than pop-corns any day!”

June ordered two plates of noodles. When Jean nudged her, she took him aside and told him, “First, I’m hungry, and I expect you’re hungry too. Secondly, if we buy noodles from her, we may gossip with her and she may be more forthcoming. There’s no better way to open up business people than purchasing something from them.”

While she prepared the noodles with great energy, she talked endlessly about foolish children preferring pop-corns, mutton-chops and pizzas over the plain, wholesome and tasty noodles.

Jean said casually, “I wanted to see that man for a different reason. Last time, he gave me a packet with a hole at the bottom, and half of the corns fell out!”

“It’s Just like him!” she retorted. “Never pays for the half-plate noodles he has every Sunday. Says he can compensate with some pop-corns. Who would want his accursed pop-corns? And he has popped out of business these last few days.”

 â€œIs he a bit dishonest?” asked June, seizing the golden opportunity.

“What do you mean by a bit, my child?” asked the woman somewhat annoyed. “He is out-and-out dishonest. And I hear he’s mixed up in some curious business, and is on the run. But I can’t say really – he was yonder there yesterday.”

“Oh! Does he ever sell anything else?” asked Jean, a bit emboldened, now that some useful information was flowing.

“Not that I know of. But who knows what dark deeds go in people’s evil minds these days? That’s a good lad – here’re your noodles. Very specially made, with the best of spices and herbs!” said the woman, quickly diverting from the rival popcorn-vendor’s criticism to a liberal advertisement of her noodles.

So they ate the noodles, and tried to digest what the woman had divulged about the pop-corn man. There was a general air of suspicion about him, but that could be because he had once been arrested. But the woman had seen him nearby, and if he was up and about – and not ill or out of town – it was strange that he did not put up his stall.

“Shall we go over yonder – whatever she meant by that?” asked a well-fed Jean.

“Let’s explore a bit – it may help us digest the noodles, if not her information,” said June.

So they rambled along keeping a sharp lookout for the unknown yonder, where lurked the pop-corn man, who seemed to have popped out of business.

Comfortably ambling along, Jean asked his sister, “Where do you get so much detecting ideas? How many novels did you read this month?”

June was trying to focus her eyes on a shadowy figure seated a few meters away on the dimly lit ‘yonder’. But she did not want to rivet her eyes on him, for it would be rude in case it was someone else; and it might make him suspicious if he was the pop-corn man. So, somewhat absent-mindedly, she raised her fore-finger to say that she had read only one novel that month.

But as soon as she raised her finger, a strange thing happened. The shadowy finger half raised his hand, indicated one with his fore-finger, suddenly got up, and walked off. He stumbled on a stone a few feet away, and a packet of pop-corns dropped from his pocket. He looked at it ruefully, and then continued his journey and soon disappeared.

June was momentarily astounded, and then clutched Jean. “Did you see?” she asked.

“He had a hole in his pocket, and he lost his pop-corns. If it’s the same pop-corn man, I’m glad. It serves him right to lose his pop-corns just the way I did!” 

“You and your pop-corn!” said June, half in disgust and half in jest. “No, I mean, he flashed one with his hand, dropped his pop-corn at a spot, and then went out of sight. I think when I showed one with my finger, he interpreted it as a signal   and responded in like. And, very possibly, the spot he showed us is where the wealth is hidden.”

“Perhaps,” said Jean, half in excitement and half in disbelief. “But why should he show you the spot where the money is buried? Surely, you’re not one of his gang – or have you joined them recently?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Jean,” said June. “The two men whom we met that day were supposed to read that clue on the wall. But they were arrested, and this pop-corn man has no way of knowing whether they had read the thing at all. So, he waits for an unknown messenger to whom he could tell the secret. And since all other gang-members are in detention, he expects an outsider, who will identify himself with this signal.”

“And you give him the signal,” said Jean in glee.  “Still, he ought to know that a school-girl couldn’t be a messenger.”

“Their brains work differently. First, he may not have had a clear view of us both in this dim light. Even I couldn’t see his face properly. Also, criminals employ all tactics – if they wanted to send someone whom no would suspect, a school student is the obvious choice.”

“So what do we do? Go and dig?” asked Jean, not relishing the prospect of excavating gold from an unknown place.

“No, that may not be legal. It could also be unsafe. Moreover, I’m sure our parents wouldn’t approve of any such foolhardy venture. We just turn the matter over to the police,” said June sensibly.

“Let’s go then,” said Jean, greatly relieved that he was not asked to take up an axe or a spade.

“No, we can’t leave the spot,” said the ever-cautious June. “Just in case he realizes that he has accidentally spilled the secret to wrong persons and decides to come back and remove the thing. We will keep the vigil and telephone the police.”

The Quest Ends

June spoke to the police, and they rushed a huge force immediately to the spot. In less than half-an-hour, they were digging the area. After some false starts, they managed to lay their hands on the gold and cash, wrapped in a waterproof bag, secreted a few feet below the ground.

But before they could congratulate the kids and get details as to how they had performed the miracle, June had another idea. She took the chief aside and said, “I’ll tell you the story later, but what led us into the whole affair was a secret message. We interpreted it to mean that this loot was concealed 4 meters or 4 feet or 4 yards from the spot where they had buried their first loot. So, I think, the first loot must be somewhere near.”

The police chief agreed, “We had an idea that it was somewhere on this ground, but we couldn’t possibly dig up the whole area. Now we have narrowed it down to this patch, we can definitely dig and see.”

As the police began their work, the twins returned home. They recounted their adventure to their parents, who were both surprised and pleased.

The next day, they had a call from the police saying that they had recovered the loot of the first robbery as well. They were called to the police HQ, where reporters were eagerly waiting to hear all about their smart deductions to solving a mystery that had baffled the police.

“What do you attribute your success to?” asked a young reporter.

“Partly, plain luck. If our parents had been at home, we wouldn’t have ventured out or met the men. Secondly, it was just a chance that at the critical moment my brother asked me how many novels I had read – and an even greater coincidence is that the answer was one.”

“Anything else?” persisted another reporter.

“The obvious fact that we – my brother and I – trust each other and share everything. I don’t ignore him, thinking that boys are silly, and he doesn’t ignore me, thinking girls are stupid. Also, I have a knack for remembering faces and he has a knack for observing places.”

At last, the police chief announced: “They definitely deserve a reward. Very systematically and sensibly they worked out the clue, and what’s more, they did not dig the place, but informed us –a matured decision indeed. So, I ask them what reward they would like…”

The twins winked at one another and said, “A packet of pop-corns, without a hole at its bottom!”

The reporters and the policemen stared at them open-mouthed.