“My heart,” he gasped.
“You have pills for it?” Her look was not sympathetic.
“In my pocket.”
“Which one?” She knelt on the floor next to him.
“Left.”
She dug her hand into his overcoat pocket. “There’s nothing in here.”
“Must be the right then.”
He was lying on his right side, and it took some effort to get him rolled over on his left.
“There’re no pills in this one either.”
“Ohhh. They’re back at the hotel.”
“Then you’ll just have to lie there until the doctor comes.”
Carver said, “Maybe you could help me to a bed upstairs.”
“No!...the rooms aren’t insulated up there.”
“I don’t mind cold.”
“You’re in a weakened condition. I’m not going to have you catching pneumonia too.”
“Then a pillow? The floor is hard.”
With an exasperated snort, she got to her feet and went up the stairs, returning in a minute with two pillows, which she put under Carver’s head. “There!”
Wally wrapped his arms around his chest. “I need a blanket. It’s drafty here.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake!” But she went, and a few minutes later two light blue blankets were wrapped around him. She turned toward the kitchen. “And now you’ll just have to...”
Wally sat up. “I’ll be dead in twenty minutes. If you won’t call an ambulance I’m going to leave.” He started to his feet. “At least I’ll die in the open air.” He got on his knees, collapsed on the floor and tried again.
“Here!” The woman had been watching this scene with mixed feelings. If the old buzzard could make it out of the house, so much the better. But if he died first, his body would be a real nuisance. She squeezed her head under his shoulder to help him stand. He got on his feet weaving, and the two staggered around like a dance team trying new steps. She finally got him to the door; he was half way out it when he gave a cry and fell back on the floor with a crash.
“You stupid old...”
Carver was again struggling to get to his feet. “Make it...this time.”
“What’s going on?” Loni had a towel wrapped around her head and cold cream on her face.
“This...gentleman had a fall. Help me get him out.”
“But if he’s hurt, Dora, shouldn’t we...”
“He’s fine. Take his other arm. What are you doing with that towel?”
“I decided to wash my hair. Are you sure he’s okay?”
“I’m fine,” gasped Carver looking anything but. “Just get me down the steps.”
They reached the bottom with difficulty. There Wally grasped Dora’s hand. “You have been kind. Perhaps I won’t sue. One last request, I’d like to take you up on that offer of a glass of water.”
Dora could see the end of the problem and rushed back into the house.
Wally straightened up. “Any problem?”
“No. She’ll meet you at the car. Hudson’s here. He supposedly had an attack.”
“These people are definitely not FBI.”
“So Hudson’s probably drugged.”
“Upstairs. There’s no one else here. I’ll bang Dora on the head and get Hudson out. Her friend Frank is coming, probably within fifteen minutes.”
“No. The reason Hudson is here is to find out why we’re living with bodyguards. And that’s what we’re going to do.”
“You think you can get up to him?”
“Of course. My room’s up there. I’ll flick the lights twice when I find Hudson. Dora feels she’s sold Loni on the `attack’ and the `doctor’.
“You had no problem with the changing?”
“It was a hard sell. What tipped it is Loni really doesn’t like Dora.”
“What will you...oh, thank you. Just a sip or two and I should be able to make it.”
“Where’s your car?” demanded Dora.
“Down the street.” Carver gestured in the opposite direction from the Buick, turning away from Dora as he appeared to drink. With this group, he was taking no chances. “That’s better. Just a sip was all I needed.” He handed the glass back to Dora. He turned his coat collar up and hobbled down the walk.
“Let’s get inside, Loni.” In the dim lighting outside the front door, she looked at the girl curiously. “Why did you decide to wash your hair all of a sudden?”
“Back east I used to wash it every day, sometimes twice a day. I got my blouse wet though. I’m going up to change.”
“Don’t be long. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Cilla stopped at the top of the stairs to see if Dora was following, but she was alone on the second floor, and there were pot and pan sounds from the kitchen. It wasn’t a large house, three bedrooms across the front, the doors open on two; both were empty. She went to the third. It was locked; one of those doors where the lock is part of the knob. Supposedly you could open them with a credit card, if she had a credit card, and if the door didn’t open inward, so when closed it fit snugly into the jamb or molding or whatever you called the piece of wood it was up against. She knocked quietly.
“Hudson?” she whispered. No response. “Hudson?” a little louder. Still nothing. It wasn’t a particularly solid door. With something to brace against she might be able to kick it in. And blow any chance of learning something from Dora. She went back to the other bedrooms. Remembering the reason she’d given Dora, she found a different blouse. Dora was shorter and wider than Loni and herself, so she had little difficulty picking the right clothes and room. She found a scarf, which she wrapped around her head in place of the towel.
She heard the front door open and close and voices. She went toward the stairs. The sounds were low, and she couldn’t make out what was being said. It was no better from a few steps down. In fact the voices were fainter; they’d gone to the kitchen. Feeling less than confident, she quietly though positively walked down the stairs and toward the kitchen, just as though she lived there. There was no door to the kitchen - she and Loni had had to change clothes in the minuscule half bath that adjoined it - so she could hear without getting close.
“Does it make sense to you?”
“None of it makes sense! What the hell was I supposed to do? Shoot him?”
“Eight years I’ve lived in Olympia, and nobody’s ever come to my door with a heart attack. Just when we got these two...you shouldn’t have let him go.”
“And if he died? What do I do, chop him up and flush him down the john?”
The man spoke more quietly. “Maybe. We’ve got one to get rid of anyway.” Cilla shivered at the casual lack of emotion in the man’s voice.
“I don’t like it, Frank. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“You going to need Harv?”
“No.”
There was silence for a minute. Cilla hurried for the stairs, but there were no sounds of movement so tiptoed back.
“...take me ten minutes.”
“And then what? It scares me, Frank.”
“Come up with another idea.”
“We could go to my sister Phoebe’s.”
“In Arizona?”
“Sure. Phoebe’s in Mexico. We’ll tell the princess he just wandered away.”
“Why not do that here?”
“Because I live here in Olympia,” said Dora
“You going to sell the girl on another trip?”
“We...may have been discovered and now have to move. The man, Rogers, needs dry air. Lots of people do. You have this nursing home in Arizona. Sure, I can sell it. She’s a dip.”
“Alright. It’s got a big desert. Have Harv bring the ambulance. Ready in a half hour.”
“Yeah.”
A chair scraped. Cilla made for the stairs. Arizona! Should she forget trying to get information? Just get Hudson and herself out. She felt pretty sure she could handle Frank and Dora, i
f she could take them by surprise. Harv was an unknown. Was he right outside? She’d just get one chance with people who were planning to leave Hudson in the desert. Why not her, too? What was Loni being kept alive for? Maybe she wasn’t, but then...
What would Hudson do? He’d get her out; she had no question about that. Suppose he needed a real doctor? It couldn’t be good for anyone to stay drugged like this. But if they were planning on him making it alive to Arizona...She reached a decision. She went into her room, turned the lights on. Then off. Then on. Then off. And a third time on and off. Dora’s room was next to hers. Her eyes went around it. The bureau first. There were only a few articles of clothing in the drawers. Most of Dora’s stuff must be across the street. The closet held just one suit and a coat. In its pocket was a letter addressed to Dora. The return address was Sedona, Arizona.
“What are you doing in my closet?” Right behind Dora was Frank, and the look in his eyes was not friendly.
Chapter 25
“Why are we waiting here?” Though the car was warm, when Loni looked at the blue house down the street she shivered. “She said to go to the Westwater and call Mr. Krestinski.”
They had watched Frank’s car drive up, and him enter the house. Ten minutes had gone by. Still Carver had waited.
“I need to be sure the substitution is accepted.”
“How will you know by sitting here? They could be doing anything inside!”
The lights in one of the upstairs rooms went on and off once. Twice. He put the car in gear. Three times. He stopped. The agreed signal was twice. There was no provision for a third.
“Was that your room?”
“Yes.”
He studied the house motionless. Then drove slowly down the street past it. A light came on in the room next to where the signal had been given. Carver put his foot on the accelerator. The Buick leapt forward.
“Are we going to the hotel?”
“Payphone. Do your seatbelt.”
Carver doubled the speed limit. Loni was pushed back against the seat. They found a telephone, and Wally was quickly out of the car.
“My name is Wallace Carver. Put on John Krestinski. It’s an emergency.”
“Sorry. He’s gone for the day.”
Carver compressed his lips. Of course. It’s after midnight there. “Let me have his home number.”
“I’m sorry, we can’t give that to you.”
“Then call him and have him call me back. This is a matter of life and death.”
“What was your name again?”
Carver’s voice dropped to a growl as he repeated it.
“I’ll see if I can reach him. What’s your number?”
Wally read it off the machine. “What is your name?”
“Andrea.”
“Andrea, I expect to hear from him within three minutes.” He hung up and waited. In less than the time allowed, Krestinski rang back.
“You’re in Washington, Wally?”
“We’re all in Washington, including Alexandra Sturgis.”
“Al...you mean Loni? She’s there with you?”
“Not five feet away. I thought you Fibbis were supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”
“So did I. How the hell did she get out there?”
“Later. Cilla and Hudson are being held captive in a house on North Garrison street here in Olympia, and there’s about to be trouble of some sort. Can you get your people on it right away?”
“What’s the address?” Wally gave him the address of the blue house. “How many are they?”
“Two I know of, a man and a woman. Loni says there’s a third, another man, but he’s not there now. Hudson has been drugged and is in a room upstairs. They think Cilla is Loni. Or they did. How fast can you make it?”
“Hold on.”
Wally leaned against the side of the booth. Three times. It had to be an SOS.
Krestinski was back in less than a minute. “Thirty minutes. Can you meet them there?”
“Yes.”
“Pilton Bowditch is the agent in charge. Now tell me what in hell’s going on. Sammy Gardner’s on it, but they weren’t to leave Mass. And what’s Hudson and Cilla doing out there anyway?”
“Your job.”
“What? I told Hudson we’d handle it!”
“Have you?”
“Damn it, Wally!...Alright, you’ve made your point. Tell me what’s happened.”
“Hudson decided to check out the Sturgis funeral.”
“I told him...”
“Do you want to hear this?”
“Go ahead.” Wally could almost hear the FBI man grinding his teeth.
“He didn’t return or call so Cilla and I went after him. A woman named Dora Fender picked up the Sturgis ashes and flew out here with them. Hudson followed. We followed him.”
“Are they armed? The people in that house?”
“Unknown. Who are they?”
“Part of the organization I assume. Describe them.”
“I’ve only seen the woman close to. She’s white, forty, five foot four, medium build, hazel eyes, brown hair with a little gray, a mole on the left side of her neck, an oval face with a small mouth. Mean anything to you?”
“Not yet. That all?”
“Yes. I’m going back to the house.”
He hung up and went back to the car.
“Did you get him?”
“Yes.” He started the automobile.
“Are we going back there?”
“We are.” The tires squealed as he put the car in a hard U turn.
“Can’t the FBI handle it?”
“They haven’t so far. Tell me how this Dora came into the picture. She wasn’t assigned by Mr. Krestinski.”
“I never met Mr. Krestinski. Sammy Gardner...stayed with me. Until Dora replaced him. But how could that have happened? She’s not FBI, is she?”
“No.” Carver edged to the side of the road as a vehicle with blinking red lights went past. He could just glimpse the word `Thurston’ on its side. “When you were with your father - you did see him now and then?”
“Oh yes. Before...the troubles, he and Andre were the men in my life.”
“Did the three of you do things together?”
“Well, no. I wanted us to, but they didn’t really get along with each other. I think Daddy tried, he got Andre into clubs and stuff.”
Carter pulled over to the curb. “There’s the house.” He put the car in gear and turned back into the street.
“What’s wrong?”
“No lights.” He parked several houses down. “Stay. FBI people are meeting us here.” He was out the door before Loni could protest. As he walked toward the darkened blue house, a car came slowly down the street. He stopped. The car pulled up next to him, and its headlights went out.
“Wallace Carver?”
“Yes. Are you Bowditch?”
“Pilton Bowditch. That the house?”
“Yes. When I left there were lights on both upstairs and down.”
“Okay. Leave it here, Dan.” The two FBI men, dressed in windbreakers, slacks and tennis shoes, climbed out quietly. No ceiling light came on. Dan went around to the back of the house. Bowditch mounted the front stairs with Carver behind him. The agent knocked. Then again. There were no sounds from within. Carver took the doorknob in his hand. The door swung open. A minute later they knew there was no one there.
Chapter 26
E. Wallace Carver sat thinking. Loni was stretched out on a sofa at angles to his chair. The two FBI men were waiting for lab people and equipment; a preliminary search of the house had revealed nothing. Krestinski took the news without comment, but then asked to speak with Carver.
“I want you two out of it.”
“Who’s going to be in it?”
“Wally, this is a job for professionals, not an…Pilton Bowditch is very capable; he’ll have all our people out there alerted.”
“Performance to date has not inspired confidence.”
“Sammy Gardner was the agent assigned to Loni. He’s missing and may be dead. These people don’t fool around. You and Loni are to...”
Carver had hung up in mid-sentence. He studied the telephone book, then lifted the phone and dialed. Loni watched him curiously. “Have you had any calls to the area around Garrison Street this evening?...I see.” He hung up.
“Who did you call?”
“That vehicle with blinking red lights that passed us on the way over had the name `Thurston’ on the side. Olympia’s in Thurston County. Thurston Ambulance has no record of a visit to this area tonight or any night this week.”
“You think Dora and the others were in it?”
“Hudson was reported to be unconscious. It would be the easiest way to move someone in that state.”
“But where? How do we find them?”
“That is the question, isn’t it.” He found Bowditch in the kitchen and told him his suspicion. The FBI man lifted the phone and gave instructions.
“I’ve put out the word. Why don’t you and the girl take off?”
“We shall. We’ll be at the Westwater. Call us when you hear anything.”
It was seven AM by Carver’s watch. His phone had not rung. He lifted the receiver and dialed Krestinski’s number in Boston. They kept him on hold long enough to start his fingers drumming on the bedside table. Finally he was through.
“You going to hang up on me again?”
“Was I right?”
“They were in that ambulance. Thurston Ambulance checked after your call. One of theirs is missing. The driver’s gone too. The Olympia police have been on the lookout, and the State Police on the highways. We’ll find them. You and Loni get on back here on the first...”
“We can’t get a plane until afternoon. Will you call Bowditch and have him let me look around that house on our way?”
“Why? What do you expect to accomplish that trained investigators can’t?”
“Find the message.”
“You think there’s a message there for you?”
“If there was any way for Cilla to leave one she would have. And if she did it’s not going to be a sheet of paper with instructions on how to find her tacked to the front door.”
Silence, then, “I suppose it can’t hurt. But I want your word you’ll be out of Olympia today.”
Killer Mountain Page 14