The Mystery of the Fiery Eye

“It does seem rather hopeless,” Jupiter agreed — and it was very rare for Jupiter to admit the possibility of defeat. “But let us explore the possibilities. Come back to our workshop and, Bob, you tell us what you found out.”
He led the way back to the secluded workshop area. Settled beside the printing press and the lathe, the boys listened as Bob read from his notes all that he had learned about the blood-stained history of The Fiery Eye, and about the people of Pleshiwar, India.
“Golly!” Pete gulped. “I don’t like the sound of all that! If The Fiery Eye is a bad luck ruby, I say let’s leave it alone. Let it jinx somebody else.”
“But part of the legend is that if The Fiery Eye goes unseen and untouched for fifty years, it will be purified and the bad luck lifted from it,” Bob pointed out.
“Sure,” Pete agreed. “And you also said many collectors would be afraid to risk it even after fifty years.”
“I’m beginning to understand,” Gus said, his eyes gleaming with excitement, “why Uncle August acted as he did. He hid The Fiery Eye and planned to keep it for fifty years. Then, when it was harmless, he would sell it. Finding himself dying just as the fifty years were up, he left it to me. I’m sure it’s safe now.”
“It may be safe,” Jupiter said, “but Black Moustache has it. And at the moment I don’t know how we’re going to get it back from Black Moustache.”
“The Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup!” Bob exclaimed. “We’ll get thousands of kids looking for Black Moustache. When we find him, we’ll — we’ll — ” He faltered, realizing he didn’t have any idea what they would do then.
“Exactly,” Jupiter nodded. “We couldn’t just take it away from him. Anyway, do you realize how many men in this city answer to the description of Black Moustache? Hundreds at least. And that’s not counting the fact that I suspect the black moustache is artificial, worn for a disguise.”
“Then it’s hopeless.” Gus broke a long silence that followed Jupiter’s remark.
Another silence followed. Even Jupiter did not seem to have any ideas. Then they heard a sharp ringing sound.
“The bell!” Bob exclaimed. “Some customer Jupe.”
“I’ll go see what he wants.” Jupiter rose and started towards the office. The others followed.
As they got out into the open, they could see the customer standing beside his sleek black car, leaning on a cane and looking round.
“Oh-oh!” Pete whispered. “It’s Three-Dots again!”
“I don’t like this much,” Bob whispered back.
But Jupiter was advancing towards the man and reluctantly they followed. Jupe, they noticed, had let his shoulders slump and was wearing his stupid look for the benefit of Three-Dots.
“Good evening, boys,” Three-Dots said. He smiled. It was not a nice smile. “I have just been examining — that!”
With his cane he pointed to the broken pieces of Augustus of Poland.
“It seems to be the remains of the bust of Augustus, in which I was especially interested. I believe I requested you to telephone me if it was returned.”
“Yes, sir,” Jupiter said. “Only it got broken.”
“And I wonder how it got broken?” Three-Dots’ smile was like the smile of a tiger about to eat a nice, plump boy. “I have noticed with special interest the small cavity inside the broken chunks. Something was hidden in that bust.”
“Yes, sir,” Jupiter said, his voice dull. “A customer dropped it and it broke. He picked up something. We didn’t get a good look at it.”
Which was perfectly true. They hadn’t. Though they had been pretty sure what Black Moustache had picked up.
“This customer,” Three-Dots said. “Would he have been a man with large glasses and a black moustache?”
Jupiter nodded. Pete and Bob and Gus exchanged startled glances.
“And — ” the tall man continued — “would the object the gentleman picked up from the bust have looked like this?”
With an abrupt movement he took something from his pocket and tossed it down on the table beside the broken bust. It was small and eye-shaped and shone with a red glow.
The Fiery Eye!
Even Jupiter gulped slightly as he answered.
“Yes, sir, it looked like that.”
“Hmmm.” The man leaned on his cane and looked at them all. “You have all heard of The Fiery Eye, I imagine. You have all heard of the dire fate that follows any who possess it.”
There didn’t seem to be any good answer to that, so they remained silent. They were wondering, though, how Three-Dots could have The Fiery Eye now, when Black Moustache had made off with it less than an hour before. “I wish to show you something.”
Three-Dots lifted his cane. He twisted the handle. The sword blade thrust out from the end of the cane. He looked at it with disapproval.
“Careless,” he remarked. “I did not clean it properly.”
From his pocket he took a tissue and wiped the sword blade. Something red and sticky came off on the tissue.
“Blood is very bad for fine steel,” he said, while chills ran up and down the boys’ spines. “However — ”
He reached forward and put the edge of his razor-sharp sword blade against The Fiery Eye. He drew the blade sharply across the ruby. Then he held the stone out to Jupiter.
“Examine it,” he said. “Tell me what you see.”
Jupiter held it up so he could see it better. The others crowded round him. For a moment they couldn’t see anything special. Then Bob spotted it, just as Jupiter did. The sword blade had made a fine scratch across the stone.
“The ruby is scratched,” Jupiter said. “I don’t understand. Rubies are harder than steel. The steel shouldn’t be able to scratch it.”
“Ah!” Three-Dots seemed pleased. “So you are not as stupid as you have been pretending. I did not think you were. In fact, I was quite sure you were a very astute young man.” As Jupiter bit his lip in chagrin at giving himself away, he added, “Now — deduce for me the meaning of that scratch.”
Jupiter was silent, studying the red stone. “It’s scratched because it isn’t a real ruby,” he said at last. “It’s an imitation, made out of paste.”
“Exactly!” Three-Dots’ voice was sharp. “It’s a paste imitation that I took from the gentleman with the black moustache. The real Fiery Eye is still to be found. As it is hidden inside a bust of Augustus, there must be another Augustus in the group which has been sold. I am depending on you to find it for me.”
He paused and fixed them each in turn with his eyes.
“I order you all to find me that other Augustus!” he said. “Or else — but I prefer not to make threats. I think you understand me. Phone me as soon as you locate it.”
With that he stepped into the waiting car and in a moment was gone, leaving them all staring at one another.
“He — he must have killed Black Moustache to get the ruby from him,” Pete said. “Golly, how did he know so quickly that Black Moustache had it?”
“The mystery gets deeper,” Jupiter said. “Why did Mr. August put a fake ruby inside the bust of Augustus of Poland? Was he fooled all along, and thought it was the real ruby? Or did he do it on purpose to mislead a searcher? If so, did he put the real ruby into another bust? Because we know there isn’t another one of Augustus and — ”
“That’s just it!” Bob burst out. “There is!”
They looked at him. Jupiter blinked.
“I just remembered,” Bob said. “Dad told me earlier. It’s Octavian! He was a Roman emperor and his other name was Augustus. When Gus’s great-uncle wrote, ‘In August is your fortune’, he had to mean the bust of Octavian, because the month of August is actually named after him! It’s Octavian we have to find.”