by John Blaine
He certainly couldn’t follow the car on foot. Then inspiration struck him. The Cub!
He turned and ran back, angling toward the water front. He reached the plant, running hard, and looked around for Scotty. Workmen and fishermen were gathered at the sediment tanks. He let out a yell, but no Page 66
one looked up; they were too occupied with the bombed tanks. He didn’t have time to turn aside. He kept going, running down the beach toward the plane.
In a moment the ropes that tied the Cub to driftwood logs were free and the warning device disconnected. He advanced the throttle and turned on the switch, then ran around front and swung the propeller through. The well-kept engine caught at once. He jumped in and jazzed the throttle, an anxious eye on his engine temperature. For a moment he waited, giving the engine a chance to warm, then he taxied to the end of the strip, kicked the tail around and pushed the throttle far forward, holding the plane on the brakes.
The tail came up under the propeller blast and he released the brakes, silently praying. The engine coughed once and his heart almost stopped, but the little plane responded, leaping into the air in a full-stall take-off. In a moment he was climbing, parallel with the beach. He thought he saw Scotty run out of the group around the sediment tanks and wave, but he wasn’t sure. Then he settled down to the business of finding the black sedan.
He swept low over the town, watching the roads; there was no sign of the quarry there. He banked around and followed the road that led out of town toward Mil-ford. In a moment he picked up the black sedan, racing along the highway. And, coming from the other direction,he saw two State Police cruisers, heading at top speed for the plant.
A little late, Rick thought bitterly. But it wasn’t their fault. Not ten minutes had elapsed since Doug had phoned, although it seemed like half a day. He glanced at his watch. It was12:11 .
He banked in lazy circles, always keeping behind the fleeing sedan, and tried to reconstruct what had happened. The fight must have been staged as a cover-up, just to make an opportunity for Tony and Lewis to bomb the plant. That had to be the answer.
He shook his head over Tony’s defection, but it provided a lot of answers. All the “accidents” at the plant Ladundoubtedly been his doing. He could even have adulterated the cement for the pressure domes. It was likely that he had. And no one had suspected him. It seemed certain now that Tony had been one of the men who locked them in the fractionator .
TheMilford turnoff was just ahead. Rick watched the sedan speeding along the black ribbon of road toward the fork ahead and waited for it to make the turn. But the intersection passed and the sedan kept on going. He knew then that Lewis was making for theMerritt Parkway .
The Cub whirled in lazy circles, always behind the sedan so that Lewis couldn’t see it. Rick hoped he would stop somewhere, giving a chance to put the Cub down and phone for help. Once Lewis got on theMerritt Parkway , the chance would be gone. He could lose the Cub by turning off at any of the towns en route, vanishing from sight in the maze of city traffic.
The black sedan seemed to crawl toward the parkway entrance, but Rick knew it was going very fast.
He watched closely as the car edged onto the concrete parkway and picked up speed again, heading south.
If Lewis turned off atBridgeport , there would be no chance of following him. He had to get a car or lose his quarry.
Rick made an instant decision and swung south, turning seaward to pick up Steve’s airport. There was another entrance to the parkway near the airport. He could borrow a car and wait at the entrance until Page 67
Lewis passed. He gave the little planeall the throttle it would take and left Lewis far behind. In a few moments he was losing altitude to come in for a landing. The ground came up and the wheels touched in a tail-high landing. He kept flying speed as he made a wide turn for the hangar, not letting the tail drop until he was almost at the door. Then he killed the engine and braked to a stop right before the gas pumps. He was out of the plane before it stopped rolling.
Steve Hollis came out of the hangar wiping his hands on a bit of waste.
“Rick! What the heck kind of a landing was that? That ain’t the way I taught you.”
“Listen, Steve, I’ve got to have a car. Lend me yours, Will you? It’s important. I can’t explain now, only I’m chasing someone.”
Steve’s calm eyes gauged the measure of Rick’s excitement,then he nodded. “Take the coupe. The keys are in it. And for the sake of my needy family, bring it back in one piece, will you?”
“I’ll be careful,” Rick called over his shoulder. “Will you take care of the Cub?” Roger.
He noted as he started the coup£ that the tank was full. That was good; he wouldn’t be delayed by having to stop for gas. He shifted and shot the car across the apron and turned onto the highway. A half mile up the road he took the turn that led to theMerritt Parkway .
The black sedan was somewhere between the Cray- villeentrance to the parkway and the one he would take. There were no exits in that stretch where Lewis could turn off. Rick planned his strategy. With any kind of luck he could stay with the black sedan until Lewis reached a destination. He couldn’t guess what would happen then, but he could hope for a break!
He drove the coupe onto the twisting ramp that led to the parkway,then pulled over to the side, well back from the actual entrance. Now to wait until the black sedan passed. Rick was sure Lewis wouldn’t suspect he was being trailed. He probably had watched the road behind him from Crayville to the parkway, and he had seen nothing. He wouldn’t be suspicious.
Cars whipped by as Rick wailed. He kept close watch of the southbound traffic until he saw the black sedan with the broken bumper. He caught a glimpse of Lewis’s white face,then he moved into the stream of traffic and settled down to the chase.
As they approached theBridgeport turnoff, he closed the distance until his was the second car behind Lewis, but the man with the white face shot right on by. Rick guessed now that he was heading forNew York .
TheMerritt Parkway ended after an hour’s drive, and theHutchinson River Parkway began, with no perceptible change except for the sign that said they were now inNew YorkState .
Rick settled down to a long drive. Lewis was keeping within the speed limit.
The minutes and miles passed andNew York City drew closer. Lewis went by theLong Island turnoff without even slowing. Definitely now, he was bound for some point inNew York . The chase sped throughWest- chesterCounty and into theBronx , then onto theHenry Hudson Parkway that leads into theWest SideExpress Highway .
Lewis led the way right down the length of midtownManhattan . Rick kept a shorter distance now, Page 68
because there were ramps leading down to the city every few blocks, but not until they approached Twenty-fourthStreet did the quarry show signs of leaving the elevated highway. Rick pulled up until only one car separated them.
The black sedan shot down the next exit ramp, Rick close behind. They stopped for the traffic light and Rick let a delivery truck get between them. They must be nearing the end of the trail.
Lewis stayed under the elevated highway until he reachedFourteenth Street , then he went across the avenue, heading east. Rick stayed close and saw his quarry turn down Eighth Avenue, go a couple of blocks down the avenue, then suddenly swing into a garage.
Rick shot right by, turned into the next street and stopped in a convenient parking space. He got out and ran back around the corner, fearful that he had lost Lewis. If there were several entrances to the garage, he was sunk. He crossed the avenue, keeping an eye on the main entrance, and took up his station at the corner.
For perhaps five minutes he watched with growing anxiety,then he saw Lewis come out and walk briskly uptown. There weren’t too many people on the streets right then, so Rick remained on the opposite side of the avenue. At Fourteenth, Lewis crossed over toward him and he ducked into a doorway. Lewis, still walking briskly, headed east.
There were more people now. Rick cl
osed the distance, afraid of losing Lewis in the crowd. At the next corner, Lewis went into a cigar store. Rick peered in cautiously and saw him in a phone booth. He would have given much to hear that conversation, but he didn’t dare try to get closer.
Presently Lewis came out, only to go into a subway kiosk. Rick hurried after him, fishing for a nickel. Ho didn’t have one. He shoved a half dollar at the man in the booth and got ten nickels back. He dropped one in the turnstile and hurried after the white-faced man. Lewis led the way through the underground passage to the uptown side,then waited on the express platform.
Rick watched from the shelter of a steel pillar.
It was easy to follow now. When Lewis got into a subway car, Rick got in the other end. When Lewis got off at Times Square, Rick followed, keeping a few people between him and Lewis.
Lewis strolled uptown, taking his time. Rick sauntered along fifty yards behind him. He wished he dared duck into a booth and call the plant, but he would lose the trail. He wished, too, that he had stopped to pick up Scotty; there would have been plenty of time, as things turned out, but he hadn’t dared, then.
The trail led downForty-ninthStreet towardSixth Avenue , and Rick saw the high bulk ofRadioCity just ahead. Were they heading there? He began to think so as they nearedSixth , but suddenly Lewis turned aside and vanished!
Rick broke into a run,then pulled up short as he saw why Lewis had seemed to disappear. He had gone into a basement restaurant, down a flight of stairs and through a door that was still gently swinging.
He drew back and peered through the windows. He saw the black-suited figure go down the left aisle.
He saw a man rise to greet him. They shook hands and Lewis joined the man in the booth.
“I’ve got to get closer,” Rick muttered to himself. He had to get a look at the man Lewis had met; he had to hear that conversation!
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He examined the restaurant closely. It was rectangular, booths lining the walls on both sides. There was a double row of booths in the center, separated by a partition on which potted plants were set. Lewis and his friend were sitting in a booth halfway down, on the left side of the partition. The booth across the partition was empty.
Rick took his nerve in both hands and walked down the four stairs to the restaurant door.
CHAPTER XII
TheManila Envelope
Rick had seen that Lewis was sitting with his back to the door. He took out his handkerchief and held it to his nose in an attempt to hide his face in case the two men in the booth looked up. Then he went down the aisle to the right, and, crouching low, slid into the booth across the partition from them.
Not until he was seated,Us head concealed by the row of potted plants, did he breathe freely again.
Then he slid closer to the partition and took stock of his surroundings.
The partition that separated him from the two men came up to about eye level. On top of it were the plants, an effective screen. Rick saw that the walls on both sides were set with tall mirrors. By looking up, across the potted plants into the mirror on the opposite side, he could get a good view of the two men. It worked both ways, of course. If they looked over his head at the mirror on his side, they would see him.
But they were busy, intent on their conversation. Rick strained to hear what they were saying.
“What would you like?”
Rick almost jumped out of his skin before he realized it was only the waitress. He gave her a. shaky smile. “Milk and a ham sandwich, please.”
The mirror showed him that Lewis’s companion was a man slightly past middle age, well dressed, and with a look that Rick thought of as well fed. Not fat, exactly, but inclined to pudginess. His face was clean-shaven, and pink, as though he had just come from the barber. Everything about him indicated wealth and self-confidence. His voice was rather high, but with a commanding timber.
“And then what?” he asked.
“Well, Tony met me in the field and I gave him the grenades. He knew just where to throw them. He made two direct hits. They won’t be using those tanks again.”
“Good. We’ll give them a few days,then I’ll issue instructions to take over. You’ve done well, my friend.
Now, how about your men?”
“Tony is all right. We can trust him, and I’ve paid him well. But I’m not so sure about Stoles. He’s a Page 70
weakling. If they put the pressure on, he may talk.”
“What do you intend to do about it?”
“I’ll take care of him, never fear.”
The waitress placed the sandwich and milk before Rick. He handed her a dollar bill, not wanting to bother fishing for change.
“You seem to be very good at that sort of thing,” the stranger chuckled.
“Thanks. Now, how about that . . . you know.”
Rick accepted the change and thrust it into his pocket. He gulped the milk, not taking his eyes from the mirror across the top of the plants.
The stranger chuckled again. “I keep my word,” he said. “I promised you your passport to freedom if you came through for me. You shall have it. And that job is yours as soon as I complete arrangements.”
Rick saw the stranger take a brief case from the seat next to him. He opened it and produced a largeManila envelope. Then he took out what seemed to be photographic prints and negatives and leafed through them, chuckling softly to himself.
“It was a good day for me when I got hold of these,” he said. “They’ve kept you faithful, my friend.”
“Give them to me.” Lewis’s voice was low and intense.
“Of course.”The stranger stuffed them back into the envelope and pushed it across the table. “You see, I’ve included the negatives.Evidence of my good faith, my friend.”
Rick had strained to see the contents of the envelope, but it was impossible. He thought: If I could get my hands on it . . .
It must be important; it must be evidence of the whole plot. Otherwise, how could the stranger have held it over Lewis’s head, to force him to obey? For an instant lie thought of snatching it, but they would be on him in a second. Fie pushed close to the partition, and the change in his pocket tinkled.
Inspiration struck him. If he could divert their attention ... he had to get that envelope! He had to!
His glance went swiftlyaround, searching for an idea ... he found it, under the table. The partition stopped within six inches of the floor. By bending low, he could see the feet of the men in the next booth.
Lewis was moving his feet as though getting ready to leave. It had to be now or never!
Rick took a handful of change from his pocket. He bent low, and flung the coins under the partition!
They rolled and clanged on the hard floor with a noise that made everyone look up.
In the mirror he saw the two men lean out toward the aisle, and he jumped up, reached across the partition and scooped up the envelope. Then, with fear and excitement giving wings to his heels, he sprinted for the door!
He gained the street and hesitated, not sure of which way to run, then he turned west and ran back the Page 71
way he had come. As he ran, he tucked the envelope into his belt and buttoned his jacket over it. It was too big to fit into a pocket. Then he threw a glance back over his shoulder and saw Lewis emerge from the restaurant and stand irresolute.
Rick slowed to a sedate walk, knowing that a run would attract the man’s attention. After a moment he looked back, and inhaled sharply. He had been seenl He broke into a run again, dodging the people on the street. Some stared curiously at him, but most paid little attention. Then, as he nearedSeventh Avenue
, the crowd grew thicker, slowing him down. He looked back frantically and saw Lewis pounding along behind him.
Rick tried the street, but cars forced him back to the crowded sidewalk again. He pushed through the crowd as fast as he could, and reached the corner of the avenue. The light was against him, but he jumped into the street anyway. A taxi whizzed b
y, almost brushing him. He leaped nimbly in front of a bus and had to stop short for another taxi. For a few terrible moments he was stranded between the traffic lanes, then a car slowed and he gained the opposite curb. When he looked back, Lewis was caught in the middle of the street, as he had been.
Rick sprinted toward Broadway, dodging in and out of the crowd. He had to lose Lewis!
He gained the corner of Broadway and looked back, to see Lewis reach the curb at Seventh and start up the short block. Rick crossedForty-ninthStreet to the north corner. Keep going west, he thought. He might be able to lose Lewis in the alleys west of Broadway. He started across against the light, and a brawny arm shoved him back.
“Cross on the light only, me boy!”
Rick glared at the policeman and turned up Broadway, the crowds slowing him down. In front of a theater he got hopelessly tangled with people who wouldn’t let him past. He pushed through somehow, cold sweat starting out on his face. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Lewis. He saw the dark eyes in the white face and read murder in them.
The light was still against him, but he dodged in and out of traffic and reached the far side of Broadway.
He was worried now. His superior speed meant nothing on the crowded streets, and if he pushed ahead too fast, there was always the possibility that a policeman might grab him. His racing thoughts searched for a way out,an J his eyes came to rest on a subway kiosk.
If only a train came in at the right moment . . .
He turned the corner ofFiftieth Street and was held up for a moment when he tried to go down the exit, then he saw his mistake and ran to the entrance. Running now was all right. People would think he was running for a train.
He went down the long stairs as though he had wings, fishing for a nickel. Then he remembered. He had thrown all his coins away. He found a bill and thrust it through the wicket, breathing hard, half-turned to watch the stairs. The agent took his time about it. But at last Rick scooped up the change and ran to the turnstile. He put a coin in and pushed through onto the platform, then looked around for a passage to the other side of the tracks.