“Then why do you say I’m in trouble?”
“Because of her!” Mrs. Cubberling pointed a finger at Judy.
“I can take care of her—easy. But first I want to hear her side of the story. She hasn’t told me why she came here.”
“Today or yesterday?” asked Judy, trying to confuse him.
“Were you here yesterday, too?” Falco demanded. “But of course you were! I warned you not to come back. Can’t you read? There’s a sign down the road warning trespassers away. My men tell me a car drove right past it yesterday. There were two girls in it. Were you one of them?”
“What if I was?” asked Judy, glad that he had not noticed Lorraine when she ducked. Suddenly Judy became aware of the seriousness of her situation.
“Speak up!” the gang leader barked. “Why did you come here? And I do mean today. I want the truth.”
“You’ll get it,” Judy said quietly, her hand still on the valve to keep him from turning it. “It’s exactly the way she told you. I came with my brother to get a story. He has a weekly column in the Farringdon Daily Herald. It’s called ‘Meet Your Neighbor,’ and we decided that you were a neighbor the public might like to meet. We wanted an interview. That was all. We were going to ask about your business, your hobbies—things like that.”
“Go ahead, Falco! Tell her your hobbies.” Edith Cubberling laughed mockingly. “You have a lot of them.”
“I haven’t time to listen,” Judy said hurriedly, not liking the ugly tone of voice the woman was using. “I have to go back to the fountain—”