The Ghost at Camp David Page 3

  Just then the telephone rang, making KC jump. She answered it. “Hello, Aspen Lodge. No, she’s not working today. She has a cold. Anna is taking her place, but she went shopping.”

  KC listened for a minute, then hung up.

  “Who was that?” Marshall asked. He rapped his knuckles on the side of a bookcase.

  “Someone asking for Florence,” KC said. “When I said she wasn’t here, the guy said he saw her go to work yesterday. She was coming here, Marsh.”

  “So maybe she got sick after she got here, then went home,” Marshall said. He looked behind a small cabinet.

  KC watched Marshall try to find the secret passageway to the tunnel. She thought about everything that had happened since they arrived at Camp David yesterday.

  “Come on, Marsh,” she said.

  “Where are we going?” Marshall asked. “I feel like I’m getting close to the secret door!”

  “We’re going to find out what’s thumping under our cabin,” KC said.

  “You said it was the pipes,” Marshall said.

  “That was before weird things started happening around here,” KC said. She grabbed Marshall’s arm and headed for the door.

  “Like what?” Marshall asked.

  KC counted off on her fingers. “Like knocking noises under our bathroom floor, windows left open in rainstorms, bats in our cabin, guys creeping around while I’m sleeping …”

  “I thought you decided that was a dream,” Marshall said.

  “I changed my mind,” KC said.

  They crossed the lawn and stepped inside Witch Hazel.

  KC went into the bathroom. Marshall followed. They both stood and listened for strange noises.

  “Do you hear anything?” KC asked.

  Marshall shook his head.

  KC ran to the chest and got her flashlight. She came back, kneeled down, and tapped the flashlight on the pipe under the sink. She waited a few seconds, then tapped again.

  “Try turning on the water,” Marshall suggested.

  KC turned on the water faucet, then turned it off.

  Then they heard it. Soft bangs under the floor.

  “It’s the pipes,” Marshall said. “You were right.”

  KC tapped the pipe with her flashlight three times.

  Three taps came back.

  KC looked at Marshall. She tapped again, four times.

  Four taps came back.

  “Do pipes know how to count?” KC asked Marshall.

  8

  Trapdoor

  Marshall stared at KC with huge eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Marsh, someone is down there!” KC said. “Someone heard me tapping and answered with the same number of taps.”

  Marshall licked his lips. “Who do you think it is?” he asked. “I mean, what if it’s some … some swamp monster or something!”

  “Yeah, a monster who knows how to count to four,” KC said. She ran into the other room and began pushing one end of the sofa.

  “What the heck are you doing?” Marshall asked.

  “If someone is under our floor, how did they get there?” KC asked. “There must be a hidden door! Help me move this thing!”

  KC and Marshall shoved the sofa off the rug. KC lifted the rug and looked underneath. “Not here,” she said, flopping the rug back down. “Check all the walls!”

  They began tapping on the walls. They found no hollow spots, no strange cracks, nothing that looked like a hidden door.

  “Let’s check my room,” Marshall said.

  While Marshall was knocking on the walls, KC pulled his bed away from where it was standing. “It’s here!” KC whispered.

  In the corner of the room, under the head of Marshall’s bed, was a trapdoor. It had been cut into the floor. There was a ring for pulling the door up.

  “Oh my gosh!” Marshall croaked. “I was sleeping right on top of it! Something could have reached up and …!”

  “Marsh, chill and help me open it,” KC said.

  “Are you nuts?” Marshall asked.

  KC raced into the other room. She came back with her Swiss Army knife and handed it to Marshall. “Okay, now let’s see what’s down there.”

  She put two fingers inside the ring and pulled. The hinged door came up. KC and Marshall stared into a dark hole. They could see dirt walls on both sides. It smelled damp and felt cold.

  “This is what we smelled when we came here yesterday,” KC said. “Dirt.”

  KC shone her flashlight into the hole. A short wooden ladder led down. The floor was also dirt. KC could see footprints.

  “What’s that white thing?” Marshall asked. He grabbed KC’s hand and aimed the light at a different spot.

  “It looks like a food container,” KC said. “Like Chinese food.”

  Marshall giggled. “Do monsters eat Chinese takeout food?”

  “I’m going down there,” KC said. “You coming?”

  “No, I’m getting ready to faint!” Marshall said.

  KC shoved her flashlight into her sweatshirt pouch. She sat at the edge of the hole and placed her feet on the top step. “Last chance,” she told Marshall.

  “Okay! Okay! What do you think, I’m staying up here alone?” he asked.

  In a minute, both kids were standing at the bottom of the hole. It was a dark, damp, and smelly place. KC felt shivers creeping up her spine.

  She aimed the light around the walls. “Someone dug this,” she said. The dirt was reddish brown, flecked with small stones. The hole was narrow and about five feet deep. KC could touch both walls with her hands. She shivered. It was cold down there.

  “I hear something!” Marshall whispered.

  KC listened. She heard a sort of humming noise.

  She aimed the light beam in front of her. The hole was really the beginning of a tunnel. Seven feet ahead of them, the tunnel turned a corner.

  KC walked forward, with Marshall nearly stepping on her heels. The humming noise grew louder when they went around the bend.

  They both saw it at once. At the end of the flashlight beam lay a large white bundle. Rope tied the bundle to a black pipe that ran down the side of the tunnel. The bundle was moving. The humming sound turned into a moan.

  “Oh my gosh,” gasped Marshall.

  KC tilted the flashlight upward. The white bundle had a face and long, dark hair. Its mouth was covered with tape. Wide, frightened eyes stared right at KC and Marshall.

  9

  A Face at the Window

  KC and Marshall ran to the prisoner. On their knees, they began to work on the ropes.

  “Wait,” Marshall said. He had slipped KC’s knife into his pocket. Now he pulled it out and started to cut the rope.

  KC peeled the tape from the woman’s mouth. She had been wrapped in a sheet. Her arms and legs were also tied.

  “Thank you. Thank you,” the woman whispered.

  In a few moments she was untied. She rubbed her wrists and ankles. “I’m so cold,” she said.

  “Who are you?” KC asked.

  The woman looked at her. “I am Florence,” she said. Florence had a long, thin body. Her arms, legs, and gray dress were stained from the red dirt.

  “Can you walk?” KC asked. “We can go up to our cabin.”

  “I think so, but I twisted my ankle when they threw me down here,” Florence said. “If you help me, I might be able.”

  Marshall and KC helped Florence stand on one foot. She had to crouch so her head wouldn’t bump the tunnel ceiling. Then they helped her up the ladder. Soon she was lying on Marshall’s bed with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Marshall replaced the trapdoor.

  “I am thirsty,” Florence said.

  KC ran into the bathroom for a glass of water.

  “What happened to you?” Marshall asked.

  “Anna and her husband,” the woman said. “They put me down there yesterday. They are bad people.”

  “But Anna told us you were sick,” KC said. “She said she was taking your
place as housekeeper for the president. He’s my stepfather.”

  “I know. The president has told me about you,” Florence said. “But Anna told you lies. They tied me up so they could steal all the good silver from Aspen Lodge! The husband—his name is Casper—he has been digging a tunnel under this cabin all week. The tunnel will connect to the one under Aspen. They planned to take the silver out through this cabin today or tomorrow.”

  “Marsh, Anna said she went into town,” KC said. “She might be back any minute! We can’t let her find us!”

  “Let’s get out of here!” Marshall said. “We have to hide somewhere!”

  “I’m sorry,” Florence said. “I don’t think I can walk very well.”

  “I have an idea,” Marshall said. “Come on!”

  They left Florence on the bed and raced to the front room. “Let’s move the couch in front of the door,” Marshall said.

  Each taking one end, they were able to shove the sofa until it blocked the door.

  KC pulled down the window shade, then peeked out. “I don’t see anyone at Aspen,” she said. “But Anna could be back by now. Marsh, we need help. One of us should climb out your bedroom window and go find either Gus or a marine guard.”

  Marshall gulped. “I’ll go,” he said. “What if I bump into Anna or her husband?”

  “Try to stay hidden,” KC said. “But you have to hurry! Anna might come over here looking for us!”

  In the bedroom, Florence was sitting up on the bed.

  Marshall raised his bedroom window. He and KC looked outside. All they saw were bushes.

  Marshall squeezed through the window. He dropped quietly to the ground outside the cabin. He quickly snuck between two bushes and disappeared.

  “Good luck,” KC whispered. She closed the window and pulled down the shade.

  Florence was watching her. “Gus is a good man,” she said. “He will know what to do.”

  “I wish I could call my stepdad,” KC said. She sat on the bed. “But there’s no phone in here.”

  “Where is he?” asked Florence. “I thought he was here, with you.”

  “He was, but this morning he had to go back to the White House,” KC said. “Anna told us at breakfast. He left me a note saying he’d be back this afternoon.”

  Florence took KC’s hand. “Try not to worry,” she said.

  KC stared at the window through which Marshall had left. If she stared hard enough, maybe she’d see his face, with Gus right behind him.

  She looked at the trapdoor. Things were beginning to make sense. Anna’s husband was digging a tunnel under this cabin. The dirt she’d seen near Nancy’s Walk had been the same red color—had he carried it there? He had to get rid of it somewhere.

  Just then KC heard the window being raised. A hand reached in and tugged on the shade, making it roll up.

  “Marsh?” KC said.

  But the face that suddenly appeared in the window did not belong to her friend. This face had dark eyes rimmed with red. The jaw was covered with black hair. The man wore a hat low on his forehead.

  Florence screamed. “It’s Casper!” she cried.

  Casper looked into the room. When he saw Florence and KC, he turned and ran.

  KC raced to the window. She was in time to see two marines tackle Casper to the ground. One of the men sat on Casper’s back. Then KC saw Gus and Marshall run up to the others.

  “It’s all over, Casper,” Gus said.

  Marshall looked toward the cabin and saw KC watching from the window. “Cool, huh?” he said with a big grin on his face.

  10

  Marshall and the Mole People

  The president dropped a marshmallow into his hot chocolate. “Gee, I go away for a few hours, and you two break up a ring of thieves,” he said. “Your moms will never let me bring you here again.”

  KC stirred her hot chocolate. “We were just minding our own business,” she said. “If Marshall hadn’t heard Florence knocking on the pipes, we never would have found her.”

  “Yeah, and if the phones hadn’t gone out, Anna would have been able to warn her husband. And he wouldn’t have come into our cabin and scared the heck out of KC,” Marshall added.

  “We think he kept old clothes and work boots in that little trunk,” KC said. “He didn’t know Marsh and I were sleeping there, so he came in to do some more digging.”

  “And I’ll bet Anna opened our windows last night,” Marshall said. “She hoped bats would fly in and we’d get scared and run over here to Aspen. That way her husband, Casper, could go in and dig.”

  “It’s amazing that he had been digging for over a week and never got caught,” the president said. “The FBI discovered that he’d been sleeping in that white laundry van. At night, he’d sneak over to your cabin and dig. Then he’d use a linen cart to haul away the dirt he’d dug up and dump it in the woods.”

  KC remembered the running figure she’d seen from the helicopter. That must have been Casper. “So he really did work for the laundry company?” KC asked.

  The president nodded. “Yes, and Anna was on the cleaning staff. But when she told him about the silver, Casper got greedy,” the president said. “Somehow, she learned that there was a tunnel under Aspen. That’s what gave them the idea to dig a new tunnel to remove the silver. By working at night, the security guards would never see them.”

  “But first they had to get rid of Florence,” Marshall added.

  “Yes, poor Florence. She would have been in the way when the robbery took place,” the president said. “So they hid her in the tunnel under your cabin, thinking no one would ever go there. And Casper could keep an eye on her while he dug.”

  “Gus said he took her to the hospital,” KC said. “I hope she’s all right.”

  “Her ankle had a bad sprain,” the president said. “Her family told me she’s coming home tomorrow.”

  “When are we going home?” KC asked her stepfather.

  “I thought we’d stay one more night,” the president said. “What do you kids think?”

  “Great!” KC said. “Gus still needs to show us the beaver pond. And I want to do more exploring!”

  “I’ll stay only if we can bunk here in Aspen,” Marshall said. “I’m not sleeping where people are digging tunnels under my bed!”

  The president winked at KC. “Marshall, did I ever tell you the story about the mole people who live in the sewers under Washington, D.C.?” he asked. “It seems that these giant moles …”

  Marshall jumped up from the table. He grabbed the bag of marshmallows and ran from the dining room.

  Photo credits: courtesy of the National Archives.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2010 by Ron Roy

  Interior illustrations copyright © 2010 by Timothy Bush

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Roy, Ron.

  The ghost at Camp David / by Ron Roy ; illustrated by Timothy Bush. — 1st ed.

  p. cm. — (Capital mysteries ; 12)

  “A Stepping Stone Book.”

  Summary: KC and her friend Marshall accompany KC’s stepfather, the

  United States President, to remote Camp David, where they find clues that

  point to either ghostly or criminal activity.
>
  eISBN: 978-0-375-89814-3

  [1. Robbers and outlaws—Fiction. 2. Ghosts—Fiction. 3. Camp David

  (Md.)—Fiction. 4. Presidents—Fiction. 5. Mystery and detective stories.]

  I. Bush, Timothy, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.R8139Gho 2010 [Fic]—dc22 2009026425

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

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