He leaned out the window. Somewhere below that watchman might be prowling but he wouldn’t be hard to handle. Johnnie hesitated. He didn’t hesitate long. He drew back, closed the window. He couldn’t skip without Mike. He’d brought the copper into this: he couldn’t rat out. Not and leave Mike to fight off this bunch singlehanded. Besides if he walked out now he never would know how it turned out. And he couldn’t leave without his dog tags. He was in to the finish. The finish was going to be soon. As soon as he reported that Rudolph had flown the coop.
He wasn’t going to hurry with that information. Give a guy an outside chance to get clear. He, Johnnie, might as well put up his feet and have a smoke until Rupe and Trudy came back downstairs. He plumped the pillows behind his head on the old-fashioned mahogany four poster, stretched his feet out on the blue and white tufted spread. He lit a cigarette. This was solid comfort. This was what he’d been waiting for. He took a quick one at his watch. No wonder bed felt good. Four-thirty A.M.! He’d have to remember to keep his eyes open in this rest period. A catnap might turn into a real pounding of the ear and he’d miss what was going to happen. He wished he had a bottle of Rupe’s champagne. That would wake him up. Or he wished he had Trudy around. He wouldn’t feel like sleeping if she were here. He blew a whole chain of rings—pretty good ones, too—and thought about Trudy. Bill and Hank wouldn’t believe he’d spent the evening with a blonde babe, cute as Sonja Henie, even if he could describe her to them. Nobody would.
He turned over and buried his ear in the pillow. He’d like to stay right here. Only you’d think they would furnish a mattress without lumps for Crown Princess Ermintrude of Rudamia. Maybe she knew how to avoid the bumps. Maybe…
Johnnie slid off the bed but fast. He shoved his hand under the blankets about where that hump had been. He drew out what his hand closed on.
Now he had a gun too. A gun with a silencer. The murderer hadn’t taken much pains to hide it. Maybe he’d hoped Rudolph would find it, put his fingerprints on it. Johnnie’s mouth turned wry. Big stupe, Johnnie. He’d done it all right. Now when he turned it over to the police, they’d have their murderer easy. One Pfc. John Brown. He shoved it in his pocket and he flopped down again on the bed. Hank had been right. It wasn’t safe for him and Bill to let Johnnie go off alone.
He leaned up on his elbow suddenly. Somebody outside was turning the knob of the door. Johnnie lay still. He wasn’t relaxed; he could have jumped and hit that door before it opened. But he wanted to see who it was. Maybe the murderer was coming back for his gun. Neither Trudy nor Rupe would be pussy-footing.
The door opened one small crack and then it started closing again. Johnnie sang out quick, “Come on in.” He didn’t want to have to get up and chase the intruder. His invitation worked. The door opened and Ferenz bounced through.
The big man closed the door behind him, looked around and pursed up his lips. “What are you doing?” he asked petulantly.
“Just resting,” Johnnie said.
“You’ve found Rudolph?”
“Uh uh.” He blew out a real thick ring. “He’s gone.”
“Gone?” Ferenz nearly screamed it. But softly. “Gone?”
“Uh huh.” He didn’t like fat pants with the squeaky voice.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you looked?”
“I don’t have to look any more. His coat’s gone. His hat’s gone. Also his bags. He’s gone all right.”
Ferenz’s face drooped down over his chins.
“There’s a fire escape outside the window.”
“You don’t have to tell me! I own this house.” But he billowed over, opened the window and peered out. “He took everything?”
“Yeah.”
“The traitor. All that money. Sixty-five thousand dollars I put up to send him back to Rudamia.”
“It wasn’t sixty-five thousand. It was seven thousand.”
“Sixty-five thousand, I tell you.” Ferenz turned a face like a tomato. An over-ripe one. “I know how much money I have spent on him, don’t I? And how does he repay? By running to Washington to get me in bad with the government!” He stuck out his head again, withdrew it, banged down the window and swirled on Johnnie. “You knew he’d gone! And you lay here resting!”
Johnnie rolled off the bed, keeping it between them and the big fellow. Ferenz looked mad enough to froth. “I was waiting for Trudy and Rupe to come back.” Johnnie opened his eyes full after he’d said that. It hadn’t occurred to him before. Maybe he’d been snipe-hunting, he and Mike. Maybe those two weren’t coming back. He made for the door.
Ferenz screamed, “Where are you going?”
He didn’t bother to answer. Ferenz was puffing on his heels. Johnnie whirred into Theo’s room, pushed aside the secret closet and bellowed up into the dimness, “Rupe, Trudy, get down here. Double time.” Silence alone answered him. He called again, “Trudy, Rupe!” There was no answer.
He plunged past Ferenz, almost knocking him down as he tore by him and down the stairs to the parlor. He swooped open the chenille curtains.
No one was in the room. No one at all.
2.
Ferenz came to a halt behind him. He was winded. He gasped, “Are you crazy?”
“Look.” Johnnie pointed to the obvious. “They’ve all skipped. Not just Rupe and Trudy. All of them.” He swung suddenly. “Mike!”
Crash-bang answered him. He shoved Ferenz, stepped out into the hall. Mike was on the floor. So was the chair. “I wasn’t asleep,” Mike denied. “I was sabotaged.”
“They’re gone!” Johnnie shouted.
Ferenz spoke wearily. “Don’t be an ass. They’re upstairs for a bite to eat. Loathsome food. Cold sandwiches.”
Johnnie didn’t look at Mike. He stubbed up the stairs after Ferenz. He’d forgotten the lure of food.
They were stuffing placidly, Magda, Janssen, Ottomkopf, Dorp. They weren’t in the least interested in Johnnie’s appearance in the doorway. Magda spoke through a sandwich. “Where was he?”
“He wasn’t.” Ruprecht and Trudy couldn’t have helped but heard his roar. No matter how much wooing was going on. If they’d been up there.
Ferenz sat down at the head of the table. “A cup of coffee, please dear. Rudolph has left us.”
Janssen’s mouth alone dropped open. “You mean—like Theo?”
“I don’t mean anything of the sort,” Ferenz snapped. “I mean bag and baggage.” He pushed the cup away. “With what do you adulterate your coffee, Herr Dorp, soybeans? I cannot endure bad coffee. Mine I fly in once a week from South America. Doubtless Rudolph is even now en route to Washington, to the government-in-exile. There is no possible way to stop him.”
“And why not?” Ottomkopf demanded.
“My dear, do you suggest that one of us attempt abducting him from the Pennsylvania Station or from the airport? There are laws in this country.” He flung down the cake he was absent-mindedly nibbling. “I abhor pink icing!” He brushed off his fingers. “I too am leaving. I told you I did not wish to appear in this. You have involved me against my will. Pray do not bother me again—any of you.”
Magda choked on crumbs. “What about the missing papers?”
“I know nothing of them. Doubtless one of you do. If they are ever found, I suggest sending them to Rudolph, in internment. With my compliments.” He pushed up. “Good night.”
Dorp jumped to face him. “I do not think you should leave us like this.”
“Do I care what you think?” He drew himself up to six foot two inches of floppy dignity. “I am Ferenz Lessering.”
“What’s up now?” Ruprecht asked mildly.
Johnnie could have cheered. Good old Rupe! He hadn’t ratted. Neither had Trudy. She was right behind him, pink and pretty and curious.
“Rudolph’s skipped,” Johnnie explained.
“Skipped? What do you mean?”
Ferenz said, “Just what he says. Rudolph has gone. Coat, hat, luggag
e—gone.” His chest began to heave. “All my money gone. Gone with one who sneaks away to tell the F.B.I, what I have done for him.”
Ruprecht began to laugh. Trudy looked at him and she began to laugh too.
“I wouldn’t have thought he had enough guts,” Rupe chortled. “Good old Rudo. I’ll buy him a drink when he gets out of internment.” He became straight-faced. “Maybe he didn’t like your plans.” He looked at each one of them in turn.
“What do you mean?” Ferenz asked haughtily.
“Maybe he figured he’d rather be a live duck under suspicion than a dead one under the plans.”
Ferenz shook his head. “There was the risk, Ruprecht, always the risk in king-making. But a throne is worth the gamble. And Dorp had it directly from Europe—”
“How do you know?” Ruprecht demanded. “Anybody could tell you anything so long as you agreed with it. How do you know what Dorp dreamed up?”
“You are speaking of me?” Dorp squawked.
Johnnie liked this.
“Yeah, you. Why wouldn’t you dream them pretty when you’d found a sucker who didn’t care what he put out for as long as he could play Metternich. But murder’s a different story.”
“So are Nazis,” Johnnie allowed.
Magda commanded, “Quiet!”
It was the first time she’d pulled that in hours. Johnnie was so surprised he turned and looked at her. She wasn’t paying any attention to him though. She’d said it automatically. She was watching Ferenz. Johnnie was thankful he wasn’t Ferenz. Those green eyes were more like the eyes of a rattler than of a glamour girl. If he hadn’t been on the wrong side of the table, Johnnie would have made a dive for her gun pocket. He didn’t think she was safe having it at the moment.
Ferenz didn’t seem worried though. He was merely tired of it all. He droned, “I am leaving here, Ruprecht. Find out what you can, dear, and let me know. I am writing this project off as a bad debt. Perhaps the Rudamian Republic will some day reimburse me.”
“What makes you think you’re leaving?” Magda asked softly. “You’re in this too, Furry. Don’t think you’re not. If the rest of us are investigated, we’re not going to pretend we dug up the money out of Fort Knox to send Rudolph back to Rudamia.”
“I do not intend to figure in this, Magda.” Ferenz’s voice rose. “Whatever lies you choose to tell about me, my lawyers and I shall refute with ease.”
He walked to the door. Ruprecht still blocked it. Magda’s hand was in her pocket. Dorp spoke. “Let him go.” It was an order.
Ruprecht stepped aside. Now Trudy barred the way. Ferenz could squash Trudy like she was a crocus. He didn’t. She raised her big blue eyes to him. “Don’t you want to help us find Theo? And whoever murdered him?”
“Theo is of no possible interest to me,” Ferenz answered loftily. “I am leaving here at once. I would advise the rest of you to do the same as quickly as possible. Once Rudolph reaches the government-in-exile, I fear the F.B.I. will be headed this way. Even if they do not come, I am supporting this house no longer. You have bungled. All of you. Good night.” He pushed her aside.
Dorp repeated, “Let him go.”
Trudy grinned. “He won’t get far. Mike’s got integrity.”
Dorp’s fat face split. “I too remembered Mike.”
Even Ottomkopf simulated their giggles.
Dorp brushed the crumbs off his vest and belched. “I do not believe Mr. Lessering should be allowed to leave without us.” He trotted into the throne room. The others followed. “Phew,” he said. “Phew.” His nose wrinkled. “This room. It smells.” He pulled the red curtains away from the front windows, flung the windows wide.
“Is this wise?” Ottomkopf asked dubiously.
“Why not? It is almost daylight. The prize has vanished. The rest of us too must vanish.”
From below there were voices. The injured bleat was Ferenz. The bluster was Mike.
Magda smiled. “You think we should prepare to leave with Ferenz?”
“I believe this would be the wise move,” Dorp stated.
From below there rose the plaint, “Ruprecht, this fellow refuses to allow me to depart.”
Mike’s voice climbed over it. “I got my orders, Bub.”
Johnnie slid along to the banisters, leaned over. It was just like it sounded. The big Lessering stood at bay at the foot of the stairs, trembling with rage. Mike was on both feet by the door, twirling his service revolver and looking pleased as Punch. Johnnie cheered, “At-a-boy!”
“Ruprecht!” Ferenz wailed.
Ruprecht hadn’t come out of the throne room yet. The others had, all but Trudy. They were bustling around, upstairs, in rooms, out of rooms. All the while Ferenz kept howling for Ruprecht. Johnnie felt a nudge on his arm. It was Trudy squeezing up beside him. That felt good. It would have felt better if Rupe hadn’t come along pushing on the other side of her. She didn’t honey up to him though. She urged, “Go on, Rupe.”
“And miss the fun? Not yet. Don’t worry about me.”
Mike was finally making himself heard above the din. He spoke to the point. “Aw, shut up before I let you have it.”
By that time Dorp and Ottomkopf were hurrying down the stairs, bowlered and coated. After them came Janssen, his uniform enveloped by the dark coat again, and Magda, a polo coat over her yellow slacks. At the same moment the pounding at the front door broke through the racket.
Johnnie felt relieved. Some way Mike had got word through to headquarters. If it weren’t the police, it must be the Marines. This was the spot for them.
Mike pointed a steady gun to the crowd on the staircase. “Stay right where you are,” he said.
Johnnie whispered to Trudy. “Might as well see the show in comfort.” He took her by the hand and hurried her to the top step. “Box seats,” he offered. They sat down. The only trouble was that Rupe followed, sitting down on the other side of Trudy.
“You are no longer to guard,” Dorp was announcing to Mike but he didn’t attempt to move from the lower step.
“The hell I’m not,” Mike told him. The door pounding wasn’t quieting down any. Mike shouted to it, “Keep your shirt on.” He backed nearer to the noise while warning the tableau, “One of you make a false move and you’ll see if I’m still on guard.” He put his hand on the knob, opened the door without turning. “Come in and join the party. Keep quiet and watch this gun.” He kept the shooting iron and eyes pointed steady forward.
Johnnie lifted up from the step but Trudy pulled him down. “Wait,” she ordered. She was watching the door.
The new entrants weren’t policeman. They were the two street department men with the hats pulled over their eyes. Johnnie had known they were phonies. Real street department workers wouldn’t be coming in here. He would have warned Mike but it happened too fast. Before he could yell, one of them had lunged, quietly knocked the revolver out of Mike’s hand. The gun bumped across the floor. Dorp picked it up, scurried to a stand in front of the chenille curtains where he covered not only the bunch on the stairs but the three by the door. The only ones he didn’t cover were Johnnie and Trudy and Rupe on the top step. He didn’t know they were there.
Mike’s fist had shot out the minute he was attacked. The workman’s chum had closed in. You couldn’t see what was what by now.
“Stop that horseplay,” Dorp commanded once he was set. “Stand where you are.”
Mike and the wrestling team moved apart. One workman had an incipient shiner. The other was wiping his nose. Mike brushed at his sleeves.
“Now I have something to say,” Dorp announced. “Thank you, Joe.”
“Wasn’t nothing,” Joe said. He picked up his hat, pulled it over one eye like before.
Johnnie whispered, “Why can’t I go down the back way and sneak up on Dorp from behind?”
“No back stairs,” Trudy whispered. “Wait.” She had her eyes fixed on the door again.
“May we leave now?” Ferenz was haughty.
“Not
yet,” said Dorp. “Not until I know who killed Theo.”
“Does it matter?” Ferenz wearily examined his nails.
“He was a traitor,” Ottomkopf growled. “He deserved to die. Let us go.”
“He did not deserve to die,” Dorp said slowly. “He was a poor weak fool, yes. A tool, yes. But I did not intend he should die. I should myself have protected him had I known he was to die. I did not know. Now I shall find out who it was killed him.”
“You’re being frightfully silly, Dorp.” Ferenz was impatient. “We can confer at a safer place than this. Even now Rudolph may be in Washington, may have set on us the F. B. I.”
Dorp laughed, a noisy jiggling laugh. “The F. B. I. is not coming up from Washington to investigate us. This need not worry your head.”
Rupe’s jaw was set. He leaned forward. Trudy’s hand went swiftly to his arm. She still watched the door with puzzled anxiety.
“What do you mean?” Ferenz’s whisper was shrill.
Magda cried, “What do you mean? You didn’t—Rudolph isn’t—dead?”
Dorp laughed louder. When he stopped the silence was thick as his accent. He spoke into it. “I hope he is not dead. If he is someone will be sorry, very sorry.”
The silence was awkward. Ferenz began, not so sure of himself now, “I cannot remain here longer.”
Dorp moved the gun forward. “But you will,” he said softly. “Or I shall be forced to shoot this gun at you.”
“I scarcely knew this Theo.”
“I didn’t know him at all,” Ottomkopf spoke up.
“No. But it was not Theo who was meant to die. It was Theo who died but it was meant to be Rudolph. And there were many who wish Rudolph to die.”
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