“You don’t know where the candles and flashlights are,” growled the patient. “And don’t you start ordering me about in my own house.”
By flickering candlelight the two made their way down to the ground floor. “Candles in the sideboard. Flashlights in the cabinet next to it,” barked their host, attired in a brightly striped bathrobe, to the four illuminated by flames from the living room’s fieldstone fireplace. “Put the candlesticks only where I tell you, so no wax gets on the furniture.” After-dinner coffee and tea cups were carefully placed on magazines or newspapers, as the troops mustered at the call of the general.
Bob Gold struggled up with the help of crutches, under the apprehensive eye of Frances Ingalls. It would do more harm than good to tell him the others could manage these primitive lighting arrangements with substantially less effort.
Andre, visiting Bob, had recovered from the shock of seeing Loni. She’d quickly explained that her disappearance had been at the insistence of the FBI, who would permit her no contact with anyone, even him. But while their greeting was cordial, it was obviously not a reunion of lovers; Loni’s heart had - as perhaps it always would - danced away to a bright new melody. He quietly took a chair in the corner of the room, his thoughts kept to himself.
“It’s coming down hard,” Loni shivered. The wind had risen, its surges causing the French doors to shudder. Flecks of snow beat against its panes.
“Settle in, Doctor,” said Carver. “Wait for the town plow. No point in testing Ledge Road or Swallow Hill now. Andre, you’d better plan on spending the night with that city car of yours.” He brushed away Adams’ protests as he might snow from his parka. Outwardly his usual gruff dictatorial self, inside he was tired and empty. First Hudson, now Cilla. No word from her since she and Kurt and Todd had taken off on that insane mid-winter scaling of Washington. And this storm looked to be a big one here on the flat. On the mountain with “the worst weather on earth” it could be cataclysmic.
“It better be soon. I’m due back at the hospital.”
“Just be glad you’re not a National Guardsman out checking rivers,” said Bob.
“Are they still at it? I haven’t seen a TV.”
“They’re everywhere. We’ve had it on all day.”
“And nothing yet?”
“Nada. But on the other hand, there’ve been no reports of bug deaths. Everyone not searching or evacuated has barred themselves at home.”
“Except the one who never gets the word,” said Frances. “A man was shot in Laconia while ice fishing.”
“When we came in,” said Loni, “what was it maybe an hour ago? They were showing a soup line in a Boston church, people who’d been burned out of their apartments cause firefighters can’t get through the streets to them.”
“If we ever have another one of these they ought to make people leave their cars at home.”
“We haven’t gotten through this one yet.”
Heads nodded agreement.
The back door flew open with a bang. The wind blew candle lights. A snow-encrusted figure appeared from the darkened kitchen
It was Cilla.
Chapter 44
“Wally!” said a suddenly taut Cilla. “Then, Hudson...?”
The old man went to her, awkwardly put his arms around her. “No word. Thank God you’re safe.”
Cilla pushed him off, held him so she could look in his eyes. “John said a body had been found.”
“It wasn’t Hudson.”
“Then why are you here?” she demanded, a fierce light in her eyes.
Loni came over to her. “Blame me, Cilla. He hadn’t slept in three days, just sat in his room worrying. The search is continuing. They’ll call us if...when they find him.”
Cilla slumped into an armchair. It was then they saw the blood caked on her forehead.
“Here!” said Doctor Evans. “Let me look at you. What happened?”
She sat up. “Have you heard anything from Todd?”
“No. Wasn’t he with you?”
Cilla sighed. “We got separated. Kurt’s wounded, maybe badly.”
“Wounded?”
“Bullets. It’s a long story. I’ve given it all to John Krestinski. We found the Nutcracker.”
Exclamations came from her listeners.
“Then your hunch was right,” said Wally almost to himself.
“Only partly. He got away. I think I’ve got to lie down.” She went to the stairs.
“I’ve got to check you over, Cilla,” insisted Dr. Evans. “You’ve obviously been in an accident.”
“I’m alright, but come up,” she said without stopping her ascent upstairs to the room she’d shared with Hudson.
“How did you get here?” asked Frances.
“Guide at AMC,” she replied. Then stopped, bemused. “Power is out in the whole Valley. They say we may not get it back until morning.”
“The guide’s car made it up the hill?’
“No. I borrowed a snowmobile from the kids at the bottom.” She disappeared.
Doctor Evans came down the stairs in less than five minutes. “She’s okay. Just needs rest. Like you Wallace Carver.” He lowered his voice. “Incidentally, she wants to see you.”
Carver cleared his throat with a short bark. Frances felt there was pride to his step as he mounted. “Did she tell you any more?” she asked the doctor.
“Not much. She apparently came down Washington on skis and took a spill that knocked her out for a while. When she came to she skied to the AMC Center in Pinkham Notch where she contacted John Krestinski. She’s sure three of the tanks are up there somewhere. But the Nutcracker’s not. The Observatory said the helicopter was gone.”
“How about Kurt and Todd?” asked Frances.
“She doesn’t think the Nutcracker’s people found them. Mountain Rescue has been alerted and is probably already on Mt. Field. They go out in nearly any weather.”
“But with this storm, and Kurt wounded...”
“Todd’s a mountain man,” said Bob Gold. “In this weather, Kurt couldn’t be in better hands.”
It was nearly twenty minutes later when both Wally and Cilla descended.
“Great,” pronounced Doctor Evans. “Both of you should be in bed. One word from me, and everyone does the opposite.”
“I’m fine,” said Cilla, putting a hand on his arm. “I just needed to lie down for a while.” She peered into the wood-box next to the fireplace. “We’re going to need more wood tonight if the heat stays off. Jim, will you and Andre get some logs from the garage?”
When the two returned with armloads, Cilla was telling the others what had happened on Mt. Washington. She did look a lot more energetic, thought Doctor Evans. Oddly, Loni now appeared tired and despondent. It was as if Cilla had been able to transfer her exhausted state to her “twin.” Like the painting in the closet.
“When I got to the AMC center, the ground lines were out; they let me use their radio to call John. He’ll have an army sealing off Washington and Field as soon as the storm lifts.”
“So the Nutcracker is out of business,” said Bob.
“He’ll never get to use those three tanks,” said Cilla, “though we’d better find them before a thaw. The worry is the others. There are three more and, something John just learned, they may be unstable.”
“What do you mean?”
“They leak.”
“Good God,” said Frances. “John told me how it was in Stewart. A house was no protection. And these might be spewing the deadly things right now!”
“Yes, if they defrost. And with this wind, the poison could be blown all over the Valley.”
“How could he know this? Those tanks may have been bouncing around the country ever since they were stolen. What makes him think they’re dangerous all of a sudden?”
“The Army,” replied Cilla. “They stored other stuff in the same type of tank at the same time these were loaded, and a number have started to leak.”
“Le
t’s hope these stay good and cold wherever they are.”
The group was silent, each with own thoughts. The flames from a giant candelabra and a dozen candlesticks cast flickering shadows on the walls, hushing voices. A gang of killers was loose in the countryside, and deadly bacteria might this minute be seeping under doors. Evans felt an urge to pull closer to the others and to the fireplace, where there was not only light but warmth. An outside thud raised eyes toward the roof. Branch, blown by the fierce wind. Snow blanketed the west-facing living room windows hiding the wolf that huffed and puffed.
Andre was restless. “Let’s see what your supplies look like,” he said, taking a flashlight to the refrigerator. “Looks a little low,” he commented after a moment. “Cilla,” he called, “was that convenience store at the foot of the hill open when you came up?”
“We’ve enough food for breakfast, Andre. By then the plow will be through.”
“I might just take a run there anyway”
“In this blizzard? Your car would never make it down, let alone back up.”
“You’re right. It sure wouldn’t.” The refrigerator closed.
“There’s bread and cheese if anyone wants something tonight,” said Frances to those in the living room.
“Maybe we could cook something over the fire,” said Loni in a small voice.
“I’ve done it before,” said Wally. “I’m sure I’ve got some marshmallows in one of the cabinets.”
“Great idea,” said Jim Evans, getting into a lighter mood.
“Now,” whispered Cilla. Frances and she rose quietly from their chairs, and stealthily approached the kitchen. Evans blinked, what...?
Suddenly the two ran through the kitchen to the garage. The door slammed. All was quiet for a moment, then the door could be heard opening again, and a red-faced Andre was pushed through into the living room by Cilla and Frances. As Bob Gold’s houseguest sprawled on the floor, Evans could see he was wearing handcuffs.
“What on earth...?”
“The real Nutcracker,” announced Cilla.
Chapter 45
The doctor looked at them as if they were missing more than a few logs from a cord. “Mr. Adams? You can’t be serious!”
“Never more so,” responded Wally Carver. “It was Adams’ plan right from the beginning.”
“That’s absurd,” said Andre, struggling into a more dignified position. “I’ve been right here all the time. Bob, I’ve been at your house for the last week or two. I wasn’t up on Mt. Washington, Cilla. This is ridiculous!” Stony silence. “Hey, there isn’t a person in New England that would believe Andre Adams is the Nutcracker.”
“How will they feel about that environmentalist hot wiring his hostesses’ car when she’s told him not to use it in order to go out in the year’s worst blizzard to get food we don’t need?” Cilla bit off the last words. If it hadn’t been for this evil bastard, Hudson would be here beside her.
“Cabral’s threats would have been empty without the pod tanks supplied by that maniac Frank,” said Carver. “Your brother!” Andre froze. “Oh, that wasn’t difficult to figure. Cilla heard Cabral say he needed a `recognition code’ to meet Frank at the airport. He didn’t know Scoggins. But Frank was related to someone, someone at the top. You didn’t run Cabral’s organization, but it was your plan.”
Wally walked to the front entryway and returned with a dark blue overcoat with a velvet collar. He held it up for Andre. “Recognize this coat? You should. You have one exactly like it, both bought by Loni, who hoped to bring you and her father closer together. Samuel Lockhart, a coatroom attendant at the Onyx Club, couldn’t tell the difference; gave this one to you and yours to Preston Sturgis. A fatal mistake for them both.” Wally threw the coat on a chair and began to pace with his arms clasped behind him as though giving a jury summation. “When Preston got home he found a note in the pocket from Cabral to you regarding the blackmail plot. Sturgis dealt drugs for Cabral and his Russians, and, knowing how Cabral operated, knew he was in big trouble. He’d gotten hold of a secret he shouldn’t have, and his only chance was flight. What he hadn’t known until he read the note was your connection with Cabral.”
Cilla took over. “The only people who knew I have a scar on my thigh are Hudson, Dr. Evans and people who have seen me in a bathing suit. Like you, when I took you over to the Club pool. There’s no other way Cabral could have known about it except from you. Suddenly a lot of things made sense: your `accident’ that wasn’t an accident at all. You arranged that scene ice climbing. I’ve heard of people who can throw their shoulders out anytime they want. Like that old magician Houdini. You wanted to get into our house, to get close to Mr. Carver, and found you could play me for a softy. Your nighttime skiing through the woods to the Carver house, must have been searching for Sturgis - you knew he was there someplace, you’d seen that coat in the front hall. So, when our home was invaded by those two thugs, you said they must have got the wrong house. What is ‘wrong’ about an invaded house unless there is a ‘right’ one. They were sent to find Sturgis and supposed to be in Wally’s house. Later, you managed to be safe at Bob’s house when the bazooka blew up mine. ”
With a second’s silence, Evans slipped in a question. “But why did Andre feel he had to get away? Hot-wiring your car? Nobody had any suspicions until then.”
“He wasn’t just trying to get away. He was afraid of dying. He thought he had to get to the other three tanks to stop them from defrosting.”
“In this weather? It must be below twenty outside!”
“Which wouldn’t make much difference if the tanks are stored inside a heated house.”
“It sounds to me as though you know where they are.”
“Carlos delivered the tanks to someone today. Obviously someone who had access to cold storage for three man-sized tanks. You know New England weather in March, it could be fifty degrees tomorrow. Except on the mountaintops. They couldn’t take a chance storing them outside.”
“Bob’s walk-in freezer! And with the power off...!”
“Right. Andre’s been living there alone since Bob moved in here. What more convenient place in case they needed them right away?”
Evans was still working on it. “You said he thought he needed to get to them. Then they aren’t leaking?”
“Not as far as we know.”
Bob Gold chuckled. “I’ve got a stand-by generator for the walk-in anyway. Automatically comes on when the power goes off. The temperature never changes in it.” He shook his head. “I was the one who didn’t think the ruse would work. I was sure Andre would have noticed that generator.”
“A ruse. All this about the leaks is untrue?”
“Right. Cilla briefed us while you and Andre were getting firewood.”
Evans sighed. Suddenly his face brightened. “Then with the tanks on the mountain tops soon to be under guard, and the other three safely keeping cold at Bob Gold’s, the Nutcracker has lost! The danger is over!”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that.” The whispered voice came from the dark of the kitchen, and five bulky shapes, holding automatic weapons, slid into the living room, surrounding its occupants. There was no need to announce to Cilla who they were, even though all were wearing ski masks.
Andre climbed to his feet. “Grecco! Thank God! Let’s get these handcuffs off me. The black woman has the key.” He bent his head in Frances’ direction. Ingalls handed it over without argument. Andre’s grin was broad as he took in the other masked men.
“I see you made it OK, Frank. Oh, for Christ’s sakes, keep your mind on the job. We’ll get you a woman later.”
The big man, caught in an intense stare at Cilla, turned guiltily back.
“He was looking forward to her,” said Cabral. “Jesus, is he always like that?”
Andre shrugged. “He has his good and bad days.”
“Check the house,” said the leader to the other masked men, who began searching other rooms with military meticulousness.
/> “You have masks, Cabral,” said Cilla softly. “I hope that means you’ll spare those who haven’t seen you.”
“Why, Andre,” asked Loni. “Why would you do such a dreadful thing?”
Andre turned his back to Cabral and held out his arms to have the cuffs unlocked. “Ever seen a billion dollars, lover? I haven’t, but I’m going to. My idea, all of it.”
“But my organization,” said Cabral softly. His men filtered back from different parts of the Carver house.
Loni was shaking. “You met this man through my father, didn’t you?”
“Let’s get going, Grecco,” said a big, bulky man Cilla took to be Groper. “The plow might come through any time.”
“Probably not until it lets up a bit. If it does we can take off through the woods on the kids’ snowmobiles.”
Cilla’ had her arm around Loni. “You didn’t hurt those children at the foot of the hill!”
“Don’t worry...about others.” Gil’s broken voice. “It’s time for...your date.”
“What’s he talking about, Cilla?” asked Wally.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I keep my promises.” Cabral looked at Andre. “Which is her room?”
“On the right at the head of the stairs.”
“Up there, Frank.”
“And don’t...kill her. She...goes out of my plane.”
As Frank took Cilla’s arm, Frances grabbed his. Gil slashed at her with an arm that sent her tumbling.
“What’s going on?” Wide-eyed, Loni looked from one to the other of the gang.
Cilla shook her head.
Carver watched helplessly. For the first time since he’d met her, Cilla appeared defeated. Head bowed, she allowed herself to be led up the stairs, into the dark of the second floor.
“What’s going to happen to her,” Loni was shaking. “Why doesn’t someone tell me what’s going on?”
“Everybody just sit back down,” said Cabral. “We’ve got a few minutes to wait. Then, if you’re good, we’ll leave you. Maybe even alive, since you haven’t seen our faces.”
Killer Mountain Page 24