Get Smart 9 - Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair

by William Johnston

  “There’s an old saying,” Arbuthnot said. “It goes: All work and no play makes a KAOS assassin a little edgy before he has his morning coffee. That could have happened here. After all, this was a working meeting. And there are no night clubs and no movie houses in this ghost town. And all you can get on television are ghosts. So, we all could have become quite nudgy.”

  “Yes, I can see—”

  “Thanks to you, however, we’re all in good spirits,” Arbuthnot said. He smiled. “See? I smiled. That proves that we’re in good spirits.” He turned to the other assassins. “Smile!” he ordered.

  They smiled.

  “Thanks to you—as you can see—we are all smiling,” Arbuthnot said, facing Max again.

  “I can see that,” Max nodded, looking perplexed. “But how did I manage it?”

  “You entertained us,” Arbuthnot replied. “Your stupid, bumbling, idiotic attempts to overcome us were hilarious. We laughed our heads off.” He turned to the other assassins again. “Show him how we laughed our heads off,” he commanded.

  The assassins doubled over with uncontrollable laughter.

  “Cut!” Arbuthnot ordered.

  The laughter immediately ceased.

  “You see how we laughed our heads off,” Arbuthnot said to Max. “You’ve been just what we needed to get our minds off our work after a long session of concentrated study. You’re a great clown, Smart—the perfect fool.”

  “Perfect, yes,” Max replied, mildly hurt. “Fool, no. This case isn’t exactly closed yet, Arbuthnot. Before it’s over, you may lose your heads from something besides laughing.”

  “Oh? You don’t want the gift, then?”

  “Well . . .” Max looked toward the vault. “We all like to be appreciated, even if it’s for the wrong reason.”

  “Good, good,” Arbuthnot smiled. “And I suppose you will want to share the gift with your fellow agent—your partner and wife.”

  “Yes,” Max answered. “I think I ought to correct you on one point, however,” he said. “She is my partner and wife. But she is not my fellow agent. I’d look pretty silly married to a fellow, wouldn’t I?”

  “Of course,” Arbuthnot replied. “On the other hand, though, you look silly married to a woman, too. Who you are married to has nothing to do with it, however. The problem arises because of the fact that, married or single, you are silly-looking.”

  “Could we skip the rest of the build-up and get on to the gift-giving,” Max said.

  “Of course,” Arbuthnot replied. “Mr. and Mrs. Smart . . . Agents 86 and 99 . . . it is my pleasure to present to you this bank vault. It will be your new home. And you will live in it as long as you live.”

  “Oh, Max!” 99 cried. “He’s going to lock us in the vault!”

  “Now, don’t panic, 99. He didn’t say that. Not exactly.” Max turned to Arbuthnot. “Could you kind of . . . What I mean is, I don’t—”

  “I’m going to lock you in the vault,” Arbuthnot explained.

  “I was afraid of that. And you call that a gift? What kind of a gift is that?”

  “A gift assassination,” Arbuthnot replied. “It’s what we do best.”

  “Oh.” Max smiled thinly. “Oh . . . well, I suppose . . . yes, I can see the thought behind it . . . In a way, I guess, it’s kind of sweet . . . in a sort of diabolical sort of way . . . I wonder if it would do any good to yell HELP in this ghost town, way out here miles from civilization?”

  “The cry wouldn’t even get past the door of the vault,” Arbuthnot informed him.

  “Then we won’t waste time on that,” Max said. “We can go directly to the last resort—a screaming, kicking tantrum.”

  “That won’t do any good, either,” Arbuthnot told him. “That vault was built to withstand any force—dynamite, earthquakes, or the steady erosion of cellular structure caused by vibration.” He motioned to Max and 99 with the gun. “Inside the vault, please.”

  A KAOS assassin opened the door of the vault, then Max and 99 entered. With only two of them inside, the vault was fairly roomy.

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Arbuthnot chuckled.

  “Just a min—”

  But Arbuthnot refused to listen. He signalled and a KAOS assassin slammed the door shut.

  The interior of the vault was totally dark.

  “Oh, Max!” 99 wailed. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know, 99,” Max said disgustedly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to Arbuthnot about. He told us not to do anything he wouldn’t do. But I’m not sure what that includes. If we’d only got to know him better, so that we could have noted some of his idiosyncrasies and crotchets. Then, with a better knowledge of his personality, we’d be able to make a more educated guess as to what he would do and wouldn’t do.”

  “Max,” 99 said, “I have the feeling that we got well enough acquainted with Arbuthnot to know that the only thing he wouldn’t do is sleep in the same bed as a germ.”

  “That gives us a pret-ty wide leeway, 99. Because I got a glimpse of the interior of this vault before that KAOS assassin closed the door, and, although it’s well equipped with empty shelves, the one thing it doesn’t have is a bed. Keeping that in mind, I think we can use any means of escape we can work out without running the risk of offending our host.”

  “Max! Why should we worry about offending Arbuthnot?”

  “99, after all, this vault is a gift!”

  “But, Max, for heaven’s—”

  99 and Max were suddenly shoved against opposite walls of the vault.

  “Max—what happened!” 99 cried.

  “I can only guess, 99,” Max replied. “What I do know, though, is that there is a large hairy body between us. And it has . . . let me see . . . two rather long ears . . . and one, two, three, four legs . . . and a tail that—”

  “Hee-haw!”

  “Sorry about that,” Max apologized. To 99, he said, “I think it’s a mule. In this darkness, I can’t be positive, of course, but indications are that Madame DuBarry has reappeared—and just when we didn’t need her most.”

  “Max . . . I can hardly move . . .”

  “Madame,” Max said to the mule, “you could be a lot more help if you went back to the saloon and continued to look for that secret panel that leads to the secret passageway to the wine cellar. If we don’t find that Coolidge-head penny and signal the Chief, these KAOS assassins will get away.”

  “And, incidentally, we’ll die in this vault,” 99 added.

  “Let’s not worry about that, 99,” Max said. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting out of the vault. The only reason I haven’t broken out, so far, is that I want to be sure the KAOS assassins aren’t still hanging around.”

  “Max!” 99 said, delighted. “You mean you really know how we can get out of here?”

  “It’s as simple as one-two-three, 99,” he replied. “Or, at least, it will be as soon as we get rid of this mule. Madame DuBarry, would you mind moving over a step? You’re standing on my foot.”

  “Hee-haw!”

  “What did he say, Max?”

  “He said I started it—I stood on his foot first.”

  “Max, tell him to leave.”

  “He’s a guest, 99.”

  “I don’t care. Our lives depend on it. You said you can’t get us out of here until he leaves. If he’s any kind of a friend at all, he’ll vamoose.”

  “Hee-haw!”

  “What did he say, Max?”

  “Do you want all of the details or just the gist of it?”

  “The gist will do.”

  “He said it’s not that simple, 99. He has the same trouble with disappearing and reappearing as the old prospector has. He says he was gone the whole winter of ’61, too. And, what was worse, he says, while the old prospector got to spend that winter in Miami Beach, he, Madame DuBarry, spent it in an abandoned igloo on a runaway ice floe in the Bering Strait.”

  “Max . . . he said all that with ‘Hee-
haw?’ ”

  “It’s the inflection he puts on the ‘haw’ that does it 99.”

  99 sighed wearily. “Max, why don’t you try to get us out of here even though the mule is in with us? If your plan is as simple as one-two-three, what difference will it make whether the mule is here or not?”

  “Quite a bit of difference, 99,” Max replied. “Because, my plan is to count ‘one-two-three’ and then run and throw my weight against the door of the vault. And it’s next to impossible to run and throw your weight against the door of a vault when you’re pinned against the wall by a mule.”

  “Oh, Max!” 99 moaned. “You mean that’s really your plan? To break down the door of the vault by throwing your weight against it? Max, that won’t do any good at all. Didn’t you hear what Arbuthnot said? He said this vault could withstand the force of dynamite and an earthquake and severe vibration and almost anything!”

  “I heard him, 99. And he probably thought he was being entirely truthful. Just because he’s an assassin, that doesn’t mean he’s a fibber, too. Some of history’s most honest men have had other flaws in their characters. So, in all fairness, let’s not assume that Arbuthnot was lying. Let’s just assume that he made a hasty judgment.”

  “Meaning what, Max?”

  “99, I have no doubt at all that when this vault was constructed it was built to withstand the force of dynamite, an earthquake or severe vibration or almost anything. But, 99, this vault, now, is centuries old.”

  “A century is a hundred years, Max.”

  “Decades old?”

  “That’s more like it, Max. But, I don’t see— Oh. You mean you think it’s not as strong as it used to be?”

  “Did you see the hinges on that door, 99? I could pry those hinges off with a toothpick. All I have to do is throw my weight against that door once and it will go flying right out of the bank. Now, if Madame DuBarry would just leave, so I could back off and get a good running start . . .”

  “Max . . . I have sort of an idea . . . Madame DuBarry is facing the back of the vault. So, that means his heels are near the door.”

  “Which heels, 99? He has four, you know.”

  “His hind heels, Max. In other words, his kicking heels. So, why can’t he kick down the door for us?”

  “99, that’s an excellent idea. Frankly, it’s the kind of idea I usually get. Now, let’s see what the mule thinks of it. Madame DuBarry, an idea has just occurred to me. Suppose—”

  “Hee-haw!”

  “What did he say, Max?”

  “In addition to the crack about people who try to take credit for other people’s ideas, you mean? Well, he said it’s an excellent idea. And he’s going to— He’s doing it now, 99!”

  “Yes . . . I can— Oh, Max!”

  “It could happen to anybody, 99. His timing was off, that’s all.”

  “I felt him rear up to kick, and then—poof!”

  “I just hope he didn’t end up on that runaway ice floe in the Bering Strait again,” Max said. “His disappearance won’t hamper us any, though, 99. Now, I have room to back off and get that running start and knock that door down. I’ll just get down here at this far end . . .”

  “Careful, Max . . .”

  “Stay flattened against the wall, 99,” Max said. “I can’t see you in this darkness, and I don’t want to run into you.”

  “I’m out of the way, Max.”

  “Then . . . here I go! One-two-three—!”

  A second later there was a thud. Then silence.

  “Max? Max . . . are you all right? Max . . . where are you, Max?”

  “I-I-I-I’m st-t-t-t-t-ill here, 9-9-9-9-9.”

  “Max, why do you sound so strange?”

  “I-I-I-I’m st-t-t-t-t-ill vibrat-t-t-t-t-ing, 99.”

  “I guess the door isn’t as weak as it looks, right, Max?”

  “Right, 99,” Max replied. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t break it down. I’ll just have to keep charging it, that’s all. A few more times and those hinges will snap and that door will go flying. All right . . . stay back against the wall, 99. I’m going to try it again.”

  “Max, maybe you better not.”

  “Don’t stop me when I’m winning, 99. One-two-three—go!”

  A second passed, then the thud was heard once more.

  “Max?”

  “If at first you don’t succeed, so forth and so forth and so forth, 99. Just stay back out of the way. One-two-three—Go!”

  Thud!

  “One . . . uh, two . . . three—Go!”

  Thud!

  “One . . . one and a half . . . two . . . two and a half . . . two and three quarters . . . three—go.”

  Thud.

  “Max?”

  “99 . . . I’d rather not discuss it. I’m broken in body and spirit.”

  “You just need a rest, Max. Take time out, then try it again.”

  “Yes . . . I’ll just lean against the back of the—”

  There was a crash. Light suddenly flooded into the vault. Blinking, 99 saw Max lying outside on the floor, on top of the rear wall.

  “Max . . . what happened?” she asked, baffled.

  “When I leaned against the back wall of the vault, 99, it fell out. The whole vault, apparently, is about to crumble.”

  “Except for the hinges,” 99 said.

  “Except for the hinges,” Max nodded, rising. He looked around. “Well, there are no KAOS assassins hanging around. So, I guess we can get back to the saloon and look for that Coolidge-head penny.” He headed for the door. “Come on, 99. Let’s get over to the saloon and find that penny before this seminar ends and all those KAOS assassins get away.”

  “Right behind you, Max!”

  Max reached the door—and abruptly halted. 99 crashed into him.

  “Max!”

  “Back, 99!” he said. He retreated, then peeked out the doorway. “Talk about terrible luck!” he said. “Look! All the KAOS assassins are trooping into the saloon!”

  “Yes!” 99 groaned. “I wonder why they’re going in there?”

  “Arbuthnot is probably going to instruct them on How to Cheat at Poker While Assassinating the Bartender,” Max said.

  “That’s the last of the assassins—they’re all inside the saloon,” 99 said. “What shall we do now, Max?”

  “Somehow, we have to get them out of there, so we can search for the secret panel that leads to the secret passageway that leads to the wine cellar, where we can begin looking for the Coolidge-head penny.”

  “Max . . . have you noticed how complicated this is getting?”

  “I don’t know why that surprises you, 99. It was bound to get more and more complicated. I’m surprised, frankly, that it isn’t more complicated than it is.”

  “Why is that, Max?”

  “Well, you know what they say. The best things are the simple things. So, the worst things must be the complicated things. And what could be worse than this?”

  “I see what you mean, Max.”

  “Let’s sneak up on the saloon and listen at one of the windows,” Max said. “Maybe we’ll hear something that will give us an idea how we can get those assassins out of there.” Cautiously, he moved out the door. “Quiet, 99,” he warned. “Don’t make a sound.” He halted. “And, Madame DuBarry, if you’re with us, that goes for you, too.”

  “Hee-Haw!” a familiar voice responded.

  “Shhhhhhhhh!”

  Silently, Max, 99, and possibly the mule, slipped out of the bank and crossed the dusty street to the saloon. When they reached a window, Max and 99 bent low, keeping out of sight, and listened. Madame DuBarry, if he was present, had no need to bend down.

  Arbuthnot was telling the other assassins how pleased he was with the way they had responded to instruction.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” he said. “When I first took a look at you, I said to myself, ‘What a bunch of dumbheads!’ But I was wrong. Each one of you is an individual. You’re not a ‘bunch’ to me any more
. You’re all dumb in your own stupid personal way.”

  “The typical farewell address,” Max said, bored. “We’re not going to learn anything here, 99.”

  “Shhhhh—just listen, Max.”

  “But, dumb as you are, with me as your professor, you had to learn something,” Arbuthnot went on. “I venture to say that from now on you’ll all think twice before you pick up a weapon to go out to assassinate somebody. You’ll remember what I told you about germs. The phrase ‘kill, kill, kill’ will now have an added meaning. Before you assassinate the victim, you’ll assassinate those dirty germs! And you’ll all be better assassins for it—not to mention your victims, who will die the right way—by knife, gun or poison—instead of by accident from getting your dirty, filthy old germs!”

  “Well, maybe not completely typical,” Max said. “But, even so, 99, we’re not learning anything that can help us. Let’s get out of here before we’re spotted.”

  “All right, Max.”

  They crept away and returned to the bank.

  “Did you think of anything, Max?” 99 asked. “How are we going to get them out of the saloon?”

  “I’m sorry, 99, but I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” Max replied. “The truth is, my mind was wandering. That always happens to me when I listen to speeches. I was listening to Franklin D. Roosevelt in December, 1941, when he announced that the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor, but I didn’t find out about it until January, 1942, at a New Year’s Eve party. While he was announcing Pearl Harbor, I was thinking about maraschino cherries. I was calculating exactly how long it would take a maraschino cherry weighing one ounce to sink one inch into a mound of whipped cream six inches high if the whipped cream had a stable consistency of— Well, anyway, you probably get the idea.”

  “Max, what were you thinking about while you were supposed to be listening to Arbuthnot’s farewell speech?”

  “I was thinking that probably the reason why we didn’t find that secret panel that led to the secret passageway that led to the wine cellar that the Coolidge-head penny dropped into was because there isn’t any secret panel that leads to a secret passageway that leads to— Well, anyway, you probably get the idea.”