“Stateroom B-19,” 99 replied. “Dr. Ignatz Popartsky.”
They reached B Deck a few minutes later, and proceeded along the corridor until they reached B-19. Max rapped on the door.
“Who?” a voice called from inside.
“Air-conditioning repairman—also girl and dog,” Max responded.
“Come.”
Max opened the door. A large black-bearded man with a slinky, sneaky expression was seated at a desk. He was writing and did not look up.
“So far, so good,” Max whipered to 99. “There’s the beard. And with that slinky, sneaky expression, he’s bound to have a slinky, sneaky manner. If he has a foreign accent, this may be it!”
Ignatz Popartsky raised his head—and beamed. “What’s up, cats?” he said.
Max’s face fell. “Wrong stateroom,” he said. “We were looking for a foreign accent.”
Popartsky’s grin broadened. “Yeah, man, you got the wrong hidey-hole,” he said. “The king’s English is all the jazz you gonna heah ’round heah. Dig?”
“Dug,” Max nodded, backing out. He closed the door. “Next?” he said to 99.
“That would be Dr. Halmar Halmar,” she answered.
“99, you’re repeating yourself.”
“No, that’s his name, Max. Dr. Halmar Halmar.”
“His parents must have stuttered,” Max said. “All right, let’s go. Where is he?”
“Right down the corridor, Max. Stateroom B-31.”
Max led the way. Reaching the door of Stateroom B-31, he knocked on it. A second later, the door opened. A large man with a close-cropped black beard stood in the opening.
“Vot is?” he asked.
“Ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere,” Max smiled. “Dr. Halmar Halmar?”
“Yes?”
“We’re here to repair your air-conditioner,” Max said. He turned his back to Dr. Halmar Halmar. “See? Right there across the shoulders of the coat—Acme Air-Conditioning Repair.”
Dr. Halmar Halmar looked puzzled. “I am having no air-conditioner,” he said.
“Of course not,” Max said, facing him again. “I have it right here. What good would it do you to have an air-conditioner that doesn’t work? Now, if you’ll just step back and let us in . . .”
Dr. Halmar Halmar, still puzzled, stepped back. Max, 99 and Fang trooped in.
Dr. Halmar Halmar stared at Fang. “Dot dog is air-conditioning repairman?”
Max chuckled. “That would be pretty silly, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Of course he’s not an air-conditioning repairman. He’s an air-conditioning repairdog.”
Dr. Halmar Halmar nodded dimly. “Oh.”
“Let’s see now, where would you like this installed?” Max said. “In . . . uh, one of your empty suitcases, perhaps?”
“Vot I vant vis air-conditioner in suitcase?”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “To keep your invisible guinea pigs cool, maybe?”
Dr. Halmar Halmar stared at Max for almost a full minute. Then he smiled feebly, said, “Haxcuse me,” and left the stateroom.
“99, this is it!” Max said exultantly. “Did you see what happened? One mention of invisible guinea pigs and he turned tail. It’s my guess that Dr. Halmar Halmar is, in fact, the diabolical Dr. X X.”
“But why did he leave, Max?”
“He probably thinks he can escape. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s out there on deck right now trying to lower a lifeboat.”
“Shouldn’t we try to stop him?”
“First, the evidence,” Max said. “Let’s find that suitcase that contains the six invisible guinea pigs.” He put down the air-conditioner. “You try the closets, 99. I’ll look under the bunk.”
99 hurried to the closet.
Max kneeled and peered under the bunk. “Something under there,” he said, squinting. “I’ll just squeeze under and . . .”
A few moments later, 99 called, “Max . .
“Yes?” he answered from under the bunk.
“Max . . . you better come out.”
Max’s head appeared. “What is it . . . ?”
At that moment, he saw Dr. Halmar Halmar and a steward in the doorway. It was the same steward that had caught them in Dr, Zee’s stateroom.
Max glared at the steward. “I have a complaint,” he said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t you people ever dust under any of your bunks?” Max complained., “There’s a clod of dust under here that’s big enough to pass for a suitcase.”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Halmar Halmar said.
Max looked up at 99. “We can leave now,” he said. “This is where we came in.”
“If you don’t mind, sir,” the steward said, as Max crawled out from under the bunk, “I think an explanation is in order.”
“And, you shall have it,” Max replied. ‘You see, in addition to being ordinary passengers, we are also qualified air-conditioning repairmen—ah . . . man, girl and dog, actually. So, whenever we hear of an air-conditioner being on the blink, we lend a hand.”
“There are no air-conditioners on board, sir.”
Max pointed. “Then what is that?”
The steward bent down and peered at the air-conditioner. “I beg your pardon,” he said.
“You accept our explanation, then?”
The steward frowned. “You say it’s out-of-order?”
“I guarantee it,” Max said.
The steward reached down and turned on the ON switch. A blast of cool air roared from the machine.
“Of course, that wasn’t an unconditional guarantee,” Max said. “Every once in a while this sort of thing happens—you get an air-conditioner that works. At the factory, we refer to this type as a ‘lemon’.”
“I think we’d better go see the Captain, sir,” the steward said.
“I hardly think that will be necessary,” Max said. “We’ve seen the Captain. And, when you’ve seen one Captain, you’ve seen them all.”
“I’ll have to insist,” the steward said.
“In that case . . .”
The steward led the way, and Max, 99 and Fang followed.
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Halmar Halmar called after them.
Max stopped. “Incidentally,” he said, “how is it that your first name and your last name are the same?”
“Mine parents studdered,” Dr. Halmar Halmar replied. “But is even worse. Full name is Halmar J. Halmar.”
“Oh? Really? What does the ‘J.’ stand for?”
“Halmar.”
“I find that difficult to believe,” Max said.
Dr. Halmar Halmar nodded sadly. “Is true. Middle name is spelled J-h-a-l-m-a-r. The ‘J’ is silent.”
“That is believable,” Max said, moving on.
When Max caught up with the others, 99 said, “Max, I’m worried. What do you think the Captain will do? He warned us not to get caught again.”
“He may not recognize us,” Max said. “We’re wearing these white coats this time.”
“I don’t think we can depend on that, Max. Maybe we better tell him who we really are.”
“99—we can’t do that! Rule 301 says that a secret agent must never reveal his identity.”
“Rorff!”
“It does so include dogs,” Max snapped. “Remember, Fang, that you’re a secret agent first and a dog second.”
“But, Max,” 99 said, “we could tell the Captain, couldn’t we? He wouldn’t tell.”
“99, are you one-hundred per cent sure that the Captain is really the Captain? For all we know, he may be the diabolical Dr. X.”
“Oh, Max! The Captain?”
“Remember, 99—he didn’t know port from starboard. Does that sound like a ship’s captain to you?”
“Well . . .”
“Of course, it isn’t absolute proof that he isn’t a captain,” Max admitted. “Maybe he just wasn’t listening when they took port and starboard in captain school. But . . . we can�
��t take any chances. We have to continue to let him think that we’re a trio of plain ordinary looters.”
“All right, Max.”
They reached the Captain’s door. The steward knocked.
“Yes, yes, come in,” a voice answered.
The steward opened the door and ushered Max, 99 and Fang inside, “Looters again, sir,” he said.
The Captain, who was seated at his desk, glared at them. “Another bunch, eh?” he said.
“This is the same three, Captain,” the steward said.
“Oh. I didn’t recognize them in those white coats.” He got to his feet. “Steward, you may go.”
“Yes, sir.”
The steward departed.
The Captain smiled. “Hi, again,” he said “How’s business?”
“Captain, we can explain this,” Max said, “You see—”
“Just a minute,” the Captain broke in. I’m listening for the bells. My watch stopped.”
“The bells?” Max said.
“Yes. The ship’s bells. They ring the time.”
Max looked at his watch. “The time is exactly—”
“Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me!” the Captain said sharply. “I’m trying to learn how to tell time by bells!”
“Oh . . . sorry.”
A moment later, the bells rang. The Captain cocked his head, listening. When the bells stopped, he smiled again, pleased. “Exactly midnight,” he announced, setting his watch.
“Uh . . . Captain . . . it’s ten in the morning,” Max said.
“Oh, darn!”
“Well, you were close—only ten hours off,” Max said.
“Yes, I’m improving,” the Captain said drearily, sitting down again. “Yesterday, I was thirty-four hours off.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, Captain. There are only twenty-four hours in a day.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” the Captain explained. “They rang an extra bell.”
“Oh.”
The Captain scowled at them “So, you let that nosy steward catch you again, eh?”
“We’re sorry,” Max said. “We didn’t plan it that way.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“Well then, let’s say that we did plan it that way, and it worked out perfectly,” Max said.
“That’s better,” the Captain smiled. But then the frown reappeared. “It doesn’t solve my problem, though,” he said. “I’m supposed to do something when looters are caught. And, for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is. Frankly, I wasn’t listening when we took what-to-do-with-looters in captain school.”
“I have a suggestion,” Max said. “Why don’t you put us on probation?”
“All three of you?” the Captain said. “Would all three of you fit on a mushroom?”
“No, no, Captain. Putting us on probation means releasing us and giving us a warning that if we ever get caught again you’ll send a wire to the captain school and ask them what it was you missed in the what-to-do-with-looters class.”
“I’ll do that,” the Captain decided. “Consider yourselves released.”
Max, 99 and Fang turned to go.
The Captain stared at the backs of their white coats. “My regards to the folks at Acme Air-Conditioning Repair,” he said.
When they reached the corridor again, 99 said, “Max, that was too close for comfort. We don’t dare get caught again. We’ll have to give up searching staterooms.”
“Nonsense,” Max said “Third time is a charm. And the next time will be the third time. It’s so safe, we could bungle it and still not get caught.’
“I hope you’re right, Max. I shudder to think what the Captain will do the next time we troop in there behind that steward.”
“That couldn’t possibly happen, 99. This time, we’re going to make sure that that steward is busy somewhere else. I made a note of his number—he’s Steward 76. I’m going to call the Chief Steward and have Steward 76 paged, and have him sent somewhere to stand by.”
“Max, that’s brilliant! And while he’s standing by, we can search staterooms. Where are you going to send him, Max?”
Well, let’s see? How about the indoor swimming pool? If we’re lucky, while he’s standing by, somebody will push him in.”
“That’s a great idea, Max.”
They went to the nearest lounge and Max picked up a phone and called the Chief Steward. A moment later, he hung up, then he and 99 and Fang listened expectantly. Not long after that a call came over the public address system: “Paging Steward 76—report to the indoor swimming pool and stand by.”
“That does it,” Max smiled. “Now, on with the search! What’s the next stateroom, 99?”
“It’s here on A Deck, Max. Room 14.”
It was a short walk to Stateroom 14. When they reached it, Max rapped on the door.
There was no response.
“Dr. X, apparently, is out,” Max said. “Fine. That makes it clear sailing. Now, if the door will just—”
The knob turned and Max pushed the door gently open.
“Max, I guess third time is a charm,” 99 said. “It’s going so easily.”
Max entered the stateroom and signalled 99 and Fang to follow. When they were inside, he closed the door.
“This time,” he said, “I’ll check the closet. 99, you check the dust.”
“Yes, Max.”
Max went to the closet and opened the door. “Three suitcases in here,” he reported.
“Dust under here, Max,” 99 replied, looking under the bunk.
Max lifted a suitcase. “No, this one is heavy—it must be full,” he said. He lifted the second suitcase. “Nope—same here.” Then the third suitcase. “No luck—this one is full, too.”
“Max,” 99 said, “are you sure that just because the guinea pigs are invisible they don’t weigh anything?”
Max looked thoughtful. “Now that you mention it,” he said, “I’m not sure. I’ve never weighed an invisible guinea pig.”
“Maybe you better look inside the suitcases,” 99 suggested.
“Right.”
He opened the first suitcase. “99, would invisible guinea pigs be wearing argyle sox?” he asked.
“I doubt it, Max.”
He closed the suitcase, then opened the next one.
“99 . . . how about a chartreuse tie that lights up in the dark and says ‘Einstein Didn’t Know the Half of It!’?”
“Are there six, Max?”
“No, just one.”
“Then it couldn’t be the guinea pigs, Max.”
Max closed the second suitcase, and opened up the third. He closed it again immediately.
“Rorff?”
“Never mind, Fang. Even a scientist—even Dr. X—is entitled to some privacy.”
“Rorff!”
“I am not withholding evidence. There is nothing incriminating about a collection of Superman comic books!” He turned to 99. “Any luck?” he asked.
“None,” 99 reported, closing the last drawer of the chest. “Nothing in here but clothes. People clothes, not guinea pig clothes.”
Max stood in the center of the room pondering. “Obviously,” he said, “Dr. X removed the guinea pigs from the suitcase. But where did he hide them?”
“Rorff!”
“In a secret compartment? All right, I’ll go along with that. But where?”
“Rorff!”
Max smiled. “A secret compartment in the floor, eh? I’m afraid your imagination is running away with you, Fang. I’ve heard of secret compartments in the floor, yes. But in the deck? Hardly.”
“Rorff!”
“Where?”
“He said ‘under the rug,’ ” 99 translated.
“I know what he said,” Max replied. “I was expressing astonishment, not asking you what he said. I’m a little dumbfounded. Suggesting that there might be a secret compartment in the deck was fantastic enough, but adding to it by suggesting that—”
Fang had pulled back t
he rug, revealing a small door.
“Well . . . live and learn,” Max said. He kneeled down by the secret door. “Just large enough to get six invisible guinea pigs through,” he said. “99, I think this is it!”
“Open it, Max.”
“I can’t. It’s locked.”
“Rorff!”
“Good idea,” Max said. “It so happens that I do have another one of those door-opening gadgets that R and D sent along for experience-testing.”
“Max, that was an awfully strong explosive,” 99 said worriedly.
“But not too strong,” Max said, taking one of the coin-sized gadgets from his pocket. “R and D is very careful about things like that. Just enough T.N.T.—but never a pinch too much.”
He set the control to ON and dropped the gadget into the keyhole.
“Now then, I think we’d better step back a step, so we—”
A tremendous explosion rocked the stateroom. Smoke filled the air.
99 screamed. “Max! We’re falling!”
“Yes, I think we blew the floor right out from under us,” Max replied.
A moment later, there was a splash—as big as three splashes.
“Max!” 99 cried, gasping for air. “We’re in the ocean!”
Max, bobbing on the surface, looked around. “No, 99,” he replied, “we’re not in the ocean.”
At that moment, the face of Steward 76 appeared.
“Max! No!” 99 wept.
“Yes,” Max said. “We’re in the indoor swimming pool.”
“It’s directly below Stateroom 14 on A Deck,” the steward explained. “Would you care to crawl out of the pool now? I think the Captain would like to see you.”
The steward escorted Max, 99 and Fang—dripping wet—to the Captain’s office.
“I fished them out of the pool, sir,” he said.
“That’s preposterous!” the Captain snorted. “What would they be doing in the pool in those white coats?”
“Would you believe that we were fixing the air-conditioning?” Max asked.
The Captain sighed, relieved. “I was afraid you wouldn’t have a logical explanation,” he said.
“They fell into the pool from Stateroom 14, Captain,” the steward said. “They were looting it.”
“And I say we were fixing the air-conditioning,” Max insisted.
“That puts me in a bit of a spot,” the Captain said. “Which one of you to believe?”
Get Smart 2 - Sorry, Chief . . . Page 6