The Mystery of the Vanishing Victim

Honey. Don’t worry.”
    Andy Kowalski returned to the van, started it up again, and then turned back toward the house where Henry Meiser was hiding. He didn’t speak, but he hummed a tune to himself, keeping time by tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
    He pulled over to the curb directly across the street from the house. He put the car in park but left the motor running. “Ready when you are, Hank,” he muttered.
    “Is Henry Meiser coming out here?” Trixie asked.
    “He will if he knows what’s good for you,” their captor said. “You young ladies should feel honored. Hank must value you pretty highly if he’s willing to trade you for the miser.”
    “This isn’t the first time you’ve tried to take the miser from him, is it?” Trixie asked.
    Andy Kowalski sneered. “He did tell you that whole story, then. Well, you can believe what you like. I got the jury to believe me! Yes, sir, it’s too bad they don’t give out awards to thieves. I’d get first prize, that’s for sure. You should have seen me when I was working for old Hank. I acted like I didn’t have sense enough to pound sand in a rathole. I’d just sweep up around the place, pretending like I didn’t even hear old Hank muttering to himself while he worked on the miser. I’d pick things up and dust under them and put them down like I hadn’t even seen what they were. But I was watching and listening, all right.
    “I waited till the day Meiser said, ‘Now, my little friend, you’re ready for testing.’ He did that—talked to the hunk of metal that he’d invented like it was a real person.
    “Anyway, I knew then I could make off with it and get it patented and keep the profits for myself. Hank was such a perfectionist that he wouldn’t have said something was ready for testing unless it was danged near perfect. He was such a distrustful old coot that he wouldn’t have it patented, either, until he’d already gotten money for the rights.
    “Anyway, I sneaked into the shop that night. Hank had fallen asleep in a chair in the back room. He heard me moving around and came out screaming. I pulled my gun on him, but he didn’t even seem to notice it. He just wanted to keep me from stealing the miser. He picked up a piece of lead pipe and threw it at me so fast I didn’t have time to duck.
    “Then he made his big mistake. He wouldn’t call the cops, because he was afraid someone would find out about his invention. He just hauled me out into the alley and tossed my gun out after me. That left his prints on the gun, of course, and that really clinched my story for the jury,” Andy Kowalski gloated.
    “Then Mr. Meiser was telling the truth in court,” Trixie said, feeling relieved that her feelings about him had been confirmed.
    “Mostly he was. But he lied about the most important thing of all—what he was working on. You see, even when he thought he might go to jail, the only thing he cared about was the miser. He had Eileen hide it away for him, and he brought some worthless scrap of tin that he said was a new electronic thingamajig. My lawyer made a big thing about how that wasn’t worth stealing, so the jury didn’t see why I’d have broken into the shop to steal it.”
    Trixie shook her head. Henry Meiser’s distrust of people was what had really gotten him into trouble, after all.
    “Meiser got six months in jail,” Kowalski continued. “I figured that would be long enough for me to get hold of the miser. But I hadn’t reckoned on Eileen dropping completely out of sight. I always thought she was in love with Meiser, but I didn’t think she was so crazy about him that she’d give up her house and pack up her kids and move away. That’s just what she did, though. I couldn’t find a trace of her.”
    “How did you finally find her?” Trixie asked. Andy Kowalski didn’t answer immediately. He peered out the window of the van at the house, which still showed no sign of activity. He held his watch close to his eyes to see how much time had elapsed since his phone call to Henry Meiser.
    “I didn’t find her. Meiser did,” he said finally. “I figured that was the only way. I bribed a friend of mine who was in jail with Meiser to organize an escape. Then I just followed Hank to Sleepyside. He was cagey about it and didn’t go right to Eileen’s house. He checked into a cheap hotel first.”
    Kowalski chortled. “He should have tried a fancier one—where all the outgoing calls from the rooms