Роберт Артур - The Mystery of the Fiery Eye

“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Peterson,” Jupiter said politely. “I guess we didn’t think about plaster being affected by water. We’ll return your money. May I ask which busts you bought?”

“I’m not sure. They’re out in the patio now. But I think one of them is Augustus somebody. I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Peterson!” Jupiter said, sitting up straight at the words. “We’ll come and pick them up to save you the trouble. If you’ll give me the address, we’ll be over sometime this afternoon or evening.”

He wrote rapidly as Mrs. Peterson gave him her address, then hung up.

“We’ve located Augustus of Poland!” he said to Pete and Gus. “As soon as Hans comes back with the small truck we’ll go and pick him up.”

“Great!” Pete said. Then he added, “I hope we get Augustus before Three-Dots gets us!”

MEANWHILE, Bob had reached the Rocky Beach Public Library, where he had a part-time job. As he walked in, Miss Bennett, the librarian, looked up.

“Why, hello, Bob,” she said. “I didn’t know this was your day to work.”

“It isn’t,” Bob said. “I came to do some research.”

“Oh, and I hoped you were here to help me.” Miss Bennett laughed lightly. “It’s been such a busy day. There are so many books to put back on the shelves. Could you spare us a little time, Bob?”

“Sure, Miss Bennett,” Bob agreed.

Miss Bennett asked him first to mend the binding on some juvenile books. Bob took them into the back storage room and used strong plastic tape to secure the torn covers. When he had finished, Miss Bennett had a sizeable stack of returned books to be put back on the shelves. He put these away one by one, and then the librarian called his attention to some books that had been left on one of the reading-room tables. Bob gathered them up. As he looked at the one on top, he almost jumped in surprise.

The title was Famous Gems and Their Stories. It was the very book he had come to the library to consult.

“Something wrong, Bob?” Miss Bennett asked.

Bob shook his head. “No, Miss Bennett.” He brought the book to the main desk to show it to her. “It’s just that I came to look up something in this book and I was surprised to find it here.”

“Goodness!” Miss Bennett read the title. “That is a coincidence. This book hasn’t been looked at for years and now it’s needed twice in the same day.”

Bob didn’t think it was a coincidence.

“I don’t suppose you remember who was reading this book, do you?” he asked.

“I don’t believe I do. So many people in today, they’re just a blur in my mind.”

Bob’s mind raced. Who would be the most likely person? He tried a shot in the dark.

“Could it have been a man with large horn-rimmed glasses and a black moustache?” he asked. “A man about medium height?”

“Why — ” Miss Bennett frowned, thinking. “Yes, it was. Now that you describe him, I remember. He had a rather low, husky voice. However did you know?”

“I heard about him from someone,” Bob said. “If there isn’t anything else you need me to do — ”

Miss Bennett shook her head, and Bob hurried to the reading table. Black Moustache had been here! That meant he was also on the trail.

He settled down to look through the book. It was full of interesting information about the discovery and history of the world’s most famous jewels. Finally, after letting himself be sidetracked into reading the curious history of the Hope diamond, which had apparently brought bad luck to many people, he found what he was looking for. One chapter was titled The Fiery Eye. He turned to it.

The Fiery Eye was a ruby as big as a pigeon’s egg, of an intense crimson colour. No one knew where or when it had been discovered, but it had been known in China, India and Tibet for many centuries. It had belonged to rajahs, emperors, queens, princes and wealthy merchants. It had been stolen many times, and some of its owners had been murdered for it. Other owners had been defeated in battle, had lost their fortunes, or otherwise suffered calamity. At least fifteen men were known to have died because of it.

The Fiery Eye was shaped rather like an eye, and was very valuable. It was not as valuable as some other famous gems, however, because it was flawed — there was a hollow inside it which made it imperfect.

The chapter ended with these words:

There are gems which seem to be followed by ill fortune. Owner after owner suffers death or illness or other serious loss. Violence hovers about them and no owner is safe. The Hope diamond, which was believed to bring misfortune to its owners until it was given to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., is one such. The Fiery Eye is another. Few of its owners failed to suffer misfortune, until at last it was given as a token of repentance by a maharajah of India to the Temple of Justice, in the remote mountain village of Pleshiwar, India.

In the Temple of Justice, sacred to a small but fanatical band of warlike mountain tribesmen, The Fiery Eye was mounted in the forehead of the temple deity. Local superstition held that it could detect sin. If someone accused of a crime was brought before it, and The Fiery Eye blazed with light, this was considered proof of guilt. If The Fiery Eye remained dim, this was proof of innocence.

The stone vanished mysteriously from the temple many years ago. Its present whereabouts is unknown, though the followers of the Temple of Justice made vigorous efforts to find it. It is rumoured to have been sold by a temple official who had been guilty of misconduct and feared the gem would expose his guilt. Many suppose the ill-fated gem to lie in some unmarked grave with the bones of the man who bought or stole it. Others believe it will yet reappear. One old legend says that when The Fiery Eye has dwelt unseen and untouched for fifty years, it will be purified and no longer bring ill fortune, providing it is bought, found or given, not seized or stolen.

Few collectors, however, would care to risk the supposed curse on the stone even now, though the fifty years is almost up.

“Wow!” Bob breathed to himself. The Fiery Eye certainly seemed a ruby to stay away from. Even though the fifty years might be up now — the book he was reading had been printed several years earlier — he didn’t think he’d want to risk having anything to do with the gem.

Thoughtfully he put the book away. Then he got down an encyclopedia to look up Pleshiwar, India. He found a brief paragraph. It just said that inhabitants of Pleshiwar and the surrounding mountains were generally tall and warlike, extremely ferocious in battle, and never gave up seeking vengeance on anyone who injured them.

This made Bob gulp again. He wrote down the main facts about Pleshiwar, as well as about the ruby, and sat thinking. Should he phone Jupe now and tell him? He decided not to. It was nearly dinner-time, and besides, Jupe was not going to start the Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup until later.

Bob said good-bye to Miss Bennett and cycled home. His mother was just getting dinner, and his father was reading and smoking his pipe. He greeted Bob.

“Hi, son,” he said. “Why so thoughtful? You look as if you were trying to solve some very large problem, Are you boys looking for another lost parrot or something like that?”

“No, Dad,” Bob said. “Right now we’re looking for a missing bust of Augustus of Poland. Do you know who he was?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. But speaking of Augustus reminds me, this is August. Do you know how the month of August got its name?”

Bob didn’t. His father told him, and Bob jumped as if jabbed with a pin. He made a bee-line for the telephone and dialled The Jones Salvage Yard. Mathilda Jones answered and Bob asked for Jupiter.