MAX SMART
and the
GHASTLY
GHOST
AFFAIR
Assigned to trail KAOS’s top U.S. assassins to a secret seminar, Max and wife 99 board a train and start searching for the KAOS killer contingent. They are checking out passengers when lunch is announced. One by one all the passengers file into the dining car . . . and disappear! Rather than ignore the “drop-out” situation, Max and 99 report the curious incident to the conductor, who conducts them, at gunpoint, to the engineer—KAOS’s fast-acting, antiseptic assassin, Arbuthnot. The train speeds to Arbuthnot’s devilish destination—a ghost town with a small but spirited population: one ectoplasmic prospector and his immortal mule. Max manages to win the western wraith to the side of good. But can Max and his supernatural sidekicks stop Arbuthnot? And will Max ever find his Coolidge-head penny phone in time to summon the Chief and Control’s counter-attacking counter forces? As usual, Max’s blundering booboos and mindless maneuvers menace friend instead of foe!
Which all adds up to a ghastly ghost affair that’s really out-of-this-world entertainment.
GET SMART novels
by William Johnston
Get Smart!
Sorry Chief . . .
Get Smart Once Again!
Max Smart and the Perilous Pellets
Missed It By That Much!
And Loving it!
Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold
Max Smart Loses Control
Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair
© 1969 TALENT ASSOCIATES—PARAMOUNT LTD.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THE RIGHT
TO REPRODUCE IN WHOLE OR IN PART
IN ANY FORM
PUBLISHED SIMULTANEOUSLY IN CANADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER
AC78-86678
A TEMPO BOOKS Original
TEMPO BOOKS EDITION, 1969
FIRST PRINTING, September 1969
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
MAX SMART and the GHASTLY GHOST AFFAIR
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MAX SMART
and the
GHASTLY
GHOST
AFFAIR
1.
MAX SMART, Agent 86 for Control, trotted down the steps from the upper floor of his apartment, then halted at the landing and glanced out the window. He was pleased to see that the sun was out and the sky was clear. So far, so good, he thought. He had been up for nearly a half-hour, and, as yet, nothing startling or disastrous had occurred. Perhaps one of those days unlike any other day was beginning. Maybe this Monday would go down in the annals of—
As Max started down the short flight of stairs that led to the foyer and the living room, he heard a noise from the direction of the kitchen. Quickly, trained to act without thinking, he flattened himself against a wall and whipped out his pistol. He heard the noise again. It sounded like pans rattling. Slowly, pistol at the ready, Max moved toward the kitchen.
As he reached the kitchen doorway, he heard the sound once more. Max took in a deep breath, then threw the door open—and found himself face to face with the intruder in his kitchen. She was a strikingly attractive young woman, with dark hair and soft dark eyes, and a particularly fetching smile.
“Good-morning, Max,” the young woman said, smiling fetchingly and pushing his pistol aside. “What would you like for breakfast?”
Max looked sheepish. “I’m sorry I keep doing that, 99,” he said to his wife, putting the gun away. “It’s just that it’s very difficult for me, in some ways, to get used to being married. Before, when I heard sounds in the morning in the kitchen, it was always a KAOS agent waiting to assassinate me. So, when I went in to put on breakfast, I’d draw first and plug in the coffee-maker second. Old habits are difficult to break.”
“Well, from now on, it will be me in the kitchen,” 99 said. “See? There are a lot of advantages to being married. Now, Max, what would you like for breakfast?”
“Oh, the same,” Max replied, “coffee and toast.” He headed toward the living room. “I’ll have it out here,” he said.
“Max, coffee and toast aren’t enough,” 99 said, following him. “You need more nourishment. After all, you lead a strenuous life.”
“All right,” Max said. “Instead of coffee and toast, I’ll have potage bisque de homard, filet de boeuf à la façon des natues, puree de marrons and omelette Alaska.”
99 stared at him wide-eyed. “Max—what’s that?”
“Well, that’s lobster bisque, fillet of beef, chestnut puree and baked Alaska.”
“Max, I asked for a suggestion for breakfast, not for a banquet at the French consulate.”
“You said I need more nourishment, 99. You can’t say what I suggested wouldn’t be nourishing.”
“Would you settle for toast and coffee, Max?”
He nodded. “I’ll have toast and coffee, 99.”
“Right,” 99 said, heading back toward the kitchen.
“Toast and coffee for three.” She entered the kitchen and the door closed behind her.
Max frowned. Then, using his fingers, he added up the number of occupants in the apartment. It came to two. Yet, 99 had said ‘toast and coffee for three.’ Obviously, they were going to have a visitor.
Max returned to the kitchen doorway and stood in the opening. “That was very cute, 99, the way you told me that,” he said. “I like the modern way best. In the old days, the wife used to let her husband discover the knitting. This is much better. Because the knitting might be around for years and I would never see it. I might discover the knitting needles, but the knitting itself, no. When are you due?”
99 had been dropping bread into the toaster but had stopped to turn to Max and look at him puzzledly. “Max, when am I due for what? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the little visitor you’re expecting,” Max replied. “You just told me about it, in your cute little way, when you said ‘toast and coffee for three.’ ”
“Max, the visitor I’m expecting isn’t exactly little. It’s the Chief. He called while you were in the shower and said for us to wait here for him.”
“Oh,” Max replied, mildly disappointed. “Well, it’s probably just as well. If it was the other kind of visitor, I imagine he, she or it would be too young for toast and coffee.” He thought a moment, then said, “This is one of the advantages of being married that I’m really going to like,”
“What’s that, Max?”
“Having the Chief come here instead of us going to the office,” Max replied. “No more fighting that morning traffic. No more punching that time clock. This will be great!”
“Max, it’s only this morning that he’ll be coming here. Normally, well go to the office just as usual. He said he has a new assignment for us, and we’ll be able to leave from here just as well as from the office. I think it’s—”
The doorbell chimed.
“That’s probably the Chief, Max.”
“No, I think it was the doorbell, 99. The doorbell chimes. The Chief just sort of groans. You can tell the difference by listening to— Oh, yes, I see what you mean—”
Max left the kitchen and went to the door and disengaged the several locks, then opened the door a crack and peeked out. The Chief of Control was there.
“Hi, Chief,” Max said. “We
don’t have a password here, so we’ll have to skip that part of our morning meeting.”
“Good, Max—just open the door.”
“How will I know if you’re friend or foe if we don’t have a password?” Max asked, keeping the door closed except for the crack. “You could be a KAOS agent disguised as the Chief, you know.”
The Chief was frowning, sniffing the air. “Max, I think the toast is burning,” he said.
Max opened the door. “That’s the password,” he said. Then, as the Chief entered, he called out to 99. “99, the password is burning!”
“I know!” 99 called back. “Don’t worry—I’m adding a little more water!”
“I guess it wasn’t the toast that was burning, it was the coffee,” Max said to the Chief.
The Chief looked perplexed. “Max, it’s toast that burns. I don’t think coffee ever burns.”
“Well, 99 is sort of new at this,” Max explained. “She probably doesn’t know that yet.” He motioned to a chair. “Have a seat, Chief. Breakfast is coming right up. How would you like ham and eggs and fried potatoes and toast and marmalade?”
The Chief beamed. “That sounds wonderful, Max!”
“Okay, we’ll go out to a restaurant,” Max said. “Just a minute—I’ll tell 99 we’re leaving.”
“No, Max! Don’t—”
The kitchen door opened at that moment, and 99 came out. She was carrying a large tray. On it was a stack of toast and a coffee urn and cups and saucers and sugar and cream.
“ ‘Morning, Chief,” 99 said, placing the tray on the low table in front of his chair. “I’m sorry I don’t have a bigger breakfast to offer you. But I sort of wasn’t expecting company.”
“That’s all right, 99—this looks fine,” the Chief said. “The potage bisque de homard, filet de boeuf à la façon des natues, puree de marrons and omelette Alaska I usually have for breakfast always leave me with a stuffed feeling, anyway.”
“What’s the assignment, Chief?” Max asked, as 99 poured the coffee.
“Well, Max—”
“Have some coffee, Chief,” 99 said.
“What? Oh . . . yes, all right.” He lifted the cup and sipped. Then, putting it down, he started to continue the reply to Max. “This assignment—”
“How was it, Chief?” 99 broke in.
The Chief looked a little uncomfortable. “Frankly, 99, it tasted a little burned,” he replied.
“I was afraid of that,” 99 said, annoyed.
“What was it you were saying about the assignment, Chief?” Max said.
“Oh . . . yes . . . Well, this assignment—”
“Try the toast, Chief,” 99 interrupted.
Resigned, the Chief picked up a slice of toast and tasted it. “I’m sorry, 99, but it’s a little weak,” he told her.
“I knew it!” she said. “I added too much water.”
“99, would you please let the Chief tell us about the assignment?” Max said.
“I’m sorry,” 99 said. “Go on, Chief.”
“Well, Max . . . 99 . . . we’ve learned that sometime within the next few days every KAOS assassin in the U.S. will be gathered in one place. And—what may be even more important—KAOS’ top international assassin, Arbuthnot, will be there, too. As you can easily see, it will be a golden opportunity for Control.”
Max frowned. “I don’t quite see it, Chief.”
“Max—think. It’s going to be kind of a seminar meeting. In other words, Arbuthnot, the top international assassin, will be lecturing to all the top U.S. assassins on the latest advancements in the assassination game. They’ll all be together for several days, probably. Do you see now why I say it’s a golden opportunity for Control?”
“You mean we’re going to cater it, Chief?”
“No, Max! I mean it’s a golden opportunity for us to eliminate not only all the top U.S. assassins, but also KAOS’ top international assassin! Wouldn’t you call that a golden opportunity?”
“You mean we’re going to assassinate the assassins, Chief?” Max said.
“No . . . we won’t do that. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary. We’ll just take them captive, then we’ll reeducate them, so that, from then on, they’ll be harmless.”
“Brainwash them, you mean,” 99 said.
The Chief shook his head. “No, 99, I mean re-educate them. When KAOS does it, it’s brainwashing. When we do it, it’s re-educating.”
99 nodded. “I’ll remember that,” she said. “Where will all these assassins be, Chief?”
“Well . . . that, I don’t know,” the Chief replied. “All we know is that the top U.S. assassins have collected here in Washington and that they’re going to take a train to New York this afternoon.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard of,” Max said.
The Chief and 99 peered at him. “Max, what’s so dumb about taking a train to New York?” the Chief asked.
“It’s as dumb as carrying coals to Newcastle,” Max replied. “There are plenty of trains in New York. Why not get one when they get there, instead of carrying one all the way from Washington. Besides, how will they ever get it on the plane? Isn’t there a limit on the amount of baggage you can—” He suddenly brightened. “Oh! I see. You mean they’re going to ride a train to New York. Why didn’t you say so, Chief? You know, there’s a big difference between—”
“Max!”
“I’m sorry, Chief. But be a little more careful of your wording from now on, will you?”
“I’ll put it this way:” the Chief said. “This afternoon, KAOS’ top U.S. assassins will board a train in Washington that is scheduled to depart for New York. We don’t know what their final destination will be. They might get on the train, and then immediately get off. Or, they might ride it to the first stop . . . or the second or third stop . . . They might go all the way to New York, then transfer to another train or to a plane or— My point is, the only thing we know for sure about their transportation plans is that they have tickets for that train this afternoon. Is that clear?”
“You certainly go into a lot of detail to say you don’t know anything, Chief,” Max commented. “Too much detail can be confusing, you know. When you have nothing to say, it’s best to say it in the briefest possible way. A tidy mind is a sign of intelligence. I don’t mean to infer by that that you’re not intelligent though. What it probably is, I think, is a basic lack of confidence in your associates’ ability to comprehend. This is indicated by your question as the end of the explanation. You went into all that detail, and you were very explicit about it, and then you said, ‘Is that clear?’ In other words, you were asking us if we understood all the things you had told us. Now, that was hardly necessary. You were so specific about everything, even an idiot would have understood. Yet, you were unable to accept the obvious: that is, the fact that you were speaking to highly-trained, extraordinarily perceptive—”
“Max,” the Chief broke in, “will you just answer the question? Was it clear?”
“Was what clear, Chief?”
The Chief turned to 99. “You understood it, I’m sure,” he said. “Please explain it to Max after you get aboard the train.”
99 nodded. “Of course, Chief.” She indicated his empty cup. “Would you like some more coffee?”
“Yes . . . thank you . . .”
99 picked up the Chief’s cup and saucer and then started to pick up the coffee urn. But at that instant the Chief’s chair suddenly tipped backwards, flipping him out and across the room. He crashed into a corner, then lay there, stunned.
Max and 99 got up quickly and ran to him.
“Chief! Are you all right?” Max asked.
The Chief opened his eyes. “Yes . . .” he replied dimly. “I . . . what happened?”
“I’m sorry, Chief . . . it was my fault,” 99 said. “I’m still not used to this apartment. Every once in a while, I activate one of Max’s booby traps—unintentionally, of course.” She looked at Max. “What did I do that time?” she a
sked.
“You broke the electric eye beam when you waved that coffee cup around,” Max explained. “It causes the chair to flip over backwards, usually breaking somebody’s leg.”
“The leg of whoever’s in the chair, you mean?”
“No, the leg of whoever gets hit by whoever’s in the chair,” Max replied. He turned his attention to the Chief once more. “How are your legs, Chief?” he asked.
“I think I survived without any damage,” he replied, getting to his feet.
“That’s a break,” Max said. “Or, to put it another way, that’s not a break.”
Max and 99 helped the Chief back to the chair.
“Do you want that coffee now, Chief?” 99 asked when he was seated again.
“No, no,” he said quickly. “Just let me finish telling you about this assignment so I can get out of here. Now, do you understand what it is you’re supposed to do? I have tickets for you for that train. You’ll go aboard and you’ll try to locate the KAOS assassins. Then—”
“How will we identify them, Chief?” Max asked. “Will they have badges pinned to their lapels?”
“Max, why would they have badges pinned to their— Oh, you mean because they are going to a meeting.” He shook his head. “No, Max, they won’t have badges. I don’t know how you’ll identify them. I don’t have pictures of them, I don’t have descriptions. Nothing. All I know is that they’ll be on that train.”
“I see,” Max nodded. “We’ll have to depend on training and intelligence to spot them.”
“Well . . . training, yes,” the Chief replied. “Now—” He suddenly winced and put a hand on his back. “I think I must have sprained something when this chair threw me,” he said.
“Here, Chief,” 99 said, reaching for a pillow on the sofa. “Put this behind your—”
“No, 99!” Max shouted.
But the warning was too late. The chair flipped the Chief foward and he dived across the low table, sending cups and saucers and the coffee urn and toast and coffee and sugar and cream in all directions. He ended up in another corner, stunned.
Get Smart 9 - Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair Page 1