by Nick Carter
We suddenly saw a brilliant burst of orange flame coming from the white ship. It was followed by a deafening explosion. The sleek white vessel blew apart in the sea. It literally disintegrated in a second into a few floating planks. The explosion had been so unexpected and so shocking that almost all of us were briefly frozen into immobility.
Hawk recovered quickly, however, and went into action, shouting orders over the radio transmitter for all the waiting ships to come in and try to pick up possible survivors. At the same time, our launch was bearing down swiftly on the spot where the ship had sunk. But when we and the other ships converged on the area, there was no sign of survivors. In fact, there was nothing at all remaining except for a few charred planks and oil streaks. Still, die search went on well into night, with the waters lit by giant searchlights from the decks of all the vessels. We found nothing.
“It’s a mystery to me,” Hawk said slowly when the search was finally abandoned and the other ships were waiting for further instructions from him. “Why would they go to all that trouble to collect the two million dollars and then blow up themselves—and the money?”
“That’s just it,” I said suddenly as I got the idea. “They didn’t blow up the money!”
“Didn’t blow up the money?” Hawk demanded. “Then where is it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But it didn’t go down with die ship. Somehow they managed to get it off before the explosion.”
“How? How?” Hawk asked impatiently. “We had it under constant surveillance from the time we first saw it. How could it have been removed?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But they did it. They had always planned to do it this way. They figured that we would have a trap for them after the missile had been returned, but it didn’t matter. The money was all that mattered. The rest, the ship, the crew, were to be sacrificed.”
“But that’s insane,” Hawk protested.
“Of course,” I told him, “and so is everything else so far.”
“Yes,” Hawk agreed, speaking slowly, “you’re probably right. But how, how, did they manage to remove the money?”
“I don’t know yet,” I answered again, “but I in-tend to find out. The answer must be somewhere here along the coast of die Adriatic Sea. I want us to search it, inch by inch, until we find some evidence that there was a survivor, or survivors, who got away with the cash.”
Hawk still doubted my opinion, but he agreed to ask die ships standing by to cooperate in helping me look for the evidence. They all offered assistance. Hawk left me at Split because he had to return to die United States to report back to the President personally.
It took us two more days and nights of searching the Adriatic coast before we found the evidence I was sure would be there somewhere. I was notified when a Greek cruiser found it, and rushed to the spot, a lonely stretch of barren land north of Split.
There, washed up on the shore and partly sub-merged in the sea, was a small, one-man submarine that had been abandoned. But I had my answer of how the two million dollars had been removed from the ship. Probably, soon after we had taken the money aboard in exchange for the missile, it had been turned over to the submariner, and the one-man craft had been dropped from the hold of die ship.
It had been easy for the tiny submarine to sneak out of the harbor, make its way along the coast, and to land. Later, perhaps that same night, or even on one of the following days or nights, the man had probably been picked up by a plane or another boat and had disappeared with the $2,000,000. As soon as I was able to make arrangements over the ship’s radio, I put through a call to Hawk, who was back in New York by then. I told him what we had discovered, in code. He took the news more cheerfully than I had expected and instructed me to return to Paris and call him from the AXE office there because he might have some news for me of a new development.
Later that day in Paris, I stopped by the hotel to check in with Elsa before going to the AXE office.
She grabbed me before I got into the door, covered my face with kisses, and said worriedly, “I didn’t know what had happened to you, Dumplink. I was about ready to report you to the police as a missing person.”
“Business, again,” I said. “Sorry I couldn’t leave a message. And I have to go out once more. But this time I will be back soon, and maybe we can have some time together.”
At the AXE office, Bonaparte put me through to Hawk on a scrambled wire.
“We’ve got a new lead,” Hawk said. “It may be the best one we’ve had so far. Our research people, who have been running a continuing check on the participants in this case, have finally turned up a definite connection among several of them. You’ll remember I mentioned earlier that several of the people had had weight problems. Well, now we’ve discovered that at least four of them were patients at the same weight-reducing spa in Switzerland.”
“That would have to be more than a coincidence,” I mused.
“We think so, too,” Hawk said. “The place’s just outside Berne in the mountains. It’s called the Rejuvenation Health Spa and is run by a doctor named Frederick Bosch. What do you think?”
“I think I’d better fly to Switzerland,” I said, “and take a look around.”
“Yes, I agree,” Hawk said. “What will you tell that Von Alder woman, Elsa?”
“I’ll tell her I have business in Berne and suggest that she fly back to the States.”
“Yes, well,” Hawk said, “I have other men watching the rest of the Von Alders. If she comes back, I’ll put a man on her, too. I’ll be in touch with you when you reach Switzerland.”
When I returned to the hotel and knocked on the door of Elsa’s suite, I found her having her hair done by the hotel hairdresser.
“I don’t like you to see me while I’m trying to get beautiful,” she said, frowning from under the hair dryer.
“I had to talk to you,” I told her. “I’m going to have to leave today for Berne. My office called, and there’s some business there I have to look into.”
“Berne!” she exclaimed happily, “but Dumplink, that’s marvelous. I’ll go with you. There’s a simply wonderful health spa outside Berne where Ursie, my sisters, and I often go. We’ll fly there in the jet, and I can relax in the spa while you attend to your business.”
“What” I asked, “is the name of this spa?”
“It’s called the Rejuvenation Health Spa,” she answered, as I guess I knew she would. And there, once more, was another link between the Von Alders and the case. I saw no reason why Elsa shouldn’t accompany me to Berne, since it might strengthen the link, so I agreed.
After I had phoned Hawk again from my suite and told him that Elsa was going to Berne with me, we checked out of the George V. Then we drove to Orly and boarded the jet, which was still piloted by the two men supplied by the Paris AXE office, for the flight to Switzerland.
Fifteen
The weather was cold and clear when we landed in Berne. Elsa knew of a small chalet on the outskirts of the city, so we took connecting rooms there.
“We always stay at this place,” Elsa explained to me after we had settled into our quarters. “It’s good to have a spot like this when it becomes too confining at the spa.”
I liked our accommodations. It was a clean, quiet, cheerful place, with warming fires burning in every room. The elderly white-haired, apple-cheeked proprietor and his wife had an excellent reputation. From a window in my room, Elsa pointed out the health spa, which was on the top of a mountain some distance away. After she had left me to go to her own room, I studied the spa through my binoculars.
It was a huge sprawling complex, with a multi-storied main building surrounded by several smaller buildings. All were in a dazzling white that blended with the snow-covered peaks jutting up on all sides around it. I could see a twisting single-lane road that led to the place and a cable car that was suspended from twin trolley lines overhead. From that distance, it wasn’t possible to make out much of the details. I wond
ered how I would make my approach—secretly, or as a guest, or, perhaps, through Elsa. But for the time being, I would bide my time and try to get the lay of the land. Besides, if the Von Alders were somehow involved in the plot, Elsa would sooner or later see to it that I was lured there.
Meanwhile, it probably would be a good idea to make contact with the local AXE agent. I had never met him, but Hawk had told me his name and where to find him. I tapped on the door that connected my room with Elsa’s and told her I was going out for a while. She would give herself a beauty treatment while I was gone and be waiting for me when I returned.
Hans Verblen, the local AXE representative, met me at die door of a modest tailor’s shop that bore his name on one of Berne’s side streets. Verblen was expecting me. He said that Hawk had already told him the details of my assignment in a phone call from the States. He was at my disposal.
“What can I do to help?” the fat dark-haired man asked.
“Mostly,” I told him, “I’d like to have as much information as you’ve got on the Rejuvenation Health Spa. Has there ever been any trouble up there? Who runs it? Information like that.”
Verblen nodded, locked the door to his tailor shop, and led me to the basement. It was a spacious, soundproof area with file cabinets solidly lining the wall. There were cameras, tape recorders, teletype machines, weapons of all varieties everywhere.
“This is where I do my real work,” Verblen explained with a wave of his hand.
“It’s quite a set-up,” I remarked.
Verblen crossed over to one of the cabinets. “I’m afraid I don’t have a very extensive file on the spa. Until Hawk’s phone call, I had had no special request to gather intelligence on the place. What I have is strictly routine, no more than I have on every other establishment in the city. There’s been no trouble there, as far as I know. They have a steady flow of guests who come from all over the world—most of them wealthy. I always try to photograph as many of die arrivals and departures as I can with a camera using a telescopic lens. But, naturally, I’m sure I’ve missed a good many.”
He dumped the photographs out on the table, and I was amazed to see that there were thousands of pictures.
“You certainly earn your keep, Verblen,” I said, shaking my head at the proof of his thoroughness. I thumbed through a few of the photos and spotted all four of the Von Alders in pictures taken at different times.
“Do you think these will be of any help to you?” Verblen asked.
“Not at the moment, I’m afraid,” I told him. “They may come in handy later. What I’m interested in right now is anything you can show me or tell me about the inside of the spa. And about Frederick Bosch, the doctor who runs it.”
“There isn’t much to show or tell,” Verblen answered. I could see he was disappointed in himself. “You understand, that the spa is a very exclusive place. Because there are so many affluent guests, the security is tight. I myself have never been inside, so I have no photographs of the interior. If there had been a special request from AXE, I would have found a way in, of course.”
“Yes, I understand, but what about the doctor?”
“Again you will be disappointed in the answer,” Verblen said. “I have no photographs of Dr. Bosch because he seldom, if ever, ventures outside. I have heard that he’s European. He came here many years ago and opened the spa. At first it was a very modest place, but it was always successful. It has been remodeled frequently over the years to become the imposing structure it is today. I have no dossier on the doctor because he has never been in trouble with any of the Swiss authorities, nor with any other officials as far as the Interpol files show. I’ve taken the precaution of checking.”
“It’s possible that try to slip into the spa unobserved,” I told Verblen. “If I do decide to try, I might call on you for assistance.”
Verblen inclined his head slightly. “Anything I can do to help, I’m prepared to do. I’m only sorry that I couldn’t provide you with more information.”
“You may have assisted me more than you realize,” I said to his surprise. “I’ve learned from you, for example, that Dr. Bosch rarely appears in public. That may not be important, but on the other hand, it makes me slightly suspicious. Being suspicious, I’ll be more careful.”
Verblen led me back upstairs, and I left him at the door to his shop and started to walk back to the chalet. The air was crisp and invigorating. It was late afternoon and most of the shops on the street were closed and locked. I was enjoying my walk and preoccupied with looking in the small shop windows along the street, so I didn’t hear the car when it pulled alongside of me. The first intimation of danger didn’t come until I saw the reflection in the glass window of one of the shops of the dark car at the curb near me and of the five men who had leaped from its open doors and were now rushing toward me.
I twirled in sudden reflex, my hand going for Wilhelmina in the shoulder holster, but all five of them were on top of me before I could pull the Luger free. They came at me from all sides, their fists thudding into my body in short, savage chops. I put up only token resistance—just enough, I hoped, to fool them—add let my body go limp, my head wobble from side to side, and my eyes close in feigned unconsciousness.
“Good,” I heard one of the men say, “He’s out. Get him into the car. Quickly!”
Two of the men took me by the shoulders and two more grabbed the feet. They began to lug me across the sidewalk. I had let them get me about halfway to the car when I suddenly kicked out with both feet, catching one of the men carrying me by the feet and then the other, full in the face. Both screamed and staggered back, clutching their faces. At the same time I had lunged upward, and as my feet became free, I broke loose from the two men who were holding me by the shoulders. The suddenness of my movements had taken them all by surprise. I turned to him.
The fifth man, who had preceded us to the car, was kneeling by one of the open doors with a gun in his hand. He fired, and the bullet chipped off a piece of pavement about an inch away from me. By then, I had Wilhelmina in my own hand. The man only had the opportunity to snap off one more shot before I had steadied the barrel of my Luger and put a bullet in his belly. He fell backwards into the car, his legs hanging out on the street.
The other four men had darted away to various positions along the street. One ducked into the doorway of a building, two others turned into an alleyway, and the fourth dashed behind a parked car. I was still looking for a place to take refuge. AH four opened fire at me at the same time. I fired back and then kneeled and took aim at the exposed legs of the man behind the car. I squeezed Wilhelmina’s trigger twice and the man screamed and pitched forward, both legs shot out from under him.
Other shots were coming at me from both sides. I wondered what the peace-loving Swiss citizens were thinking of all the gunfire in their normally quiet town. The gunmen had me pinned down between their own car and the front of the shop where I had been standing when their car had approached. I knew I had to take refuge from the street before they rushed me. But I couldn’t run behind the car because they would have a clear shot at me, and the door to the shop behind me was closed and locked.
Then I saw the three gunmen coming for me, and I had to move. I fired off a couple of shots to try to hold them off briefly. There was only one thing possible to do. Lowering my head, with my arms cradled over it to protect my face, I sprinted across the sidewalk and plunged through the glass window of the shop behind me. The glass splintered into great shards that crashed into the street outside, but I was inside and out of immediate danger.
The shop was a small toy store with displays of games and dolls. Apparently it was deserted. I raced on through it and found a back door that opened. I had escaped into a back alley. I ducked around the side of the building just long enough to see the men who had tried to ambush me scurrying for their parked car. Three of them were dragging the other two into the car, and they sped away. By then I could hear the wail of klaxons coming closer. The pol
ice were on the way. I headed for my hotel and walked through back alleys until I was well out of die area.
No one paid any attention to me when I entered the chalet. I could still hear the wail of police cars in the distance, and the sound continued for a long time.
As soon as I had reached my room, I grabbed my binoculars and went to the window. I trained the binoculars on die road leading up the mountain to the spa and had no trouble finding the dark car. I had been sure that the men had come from the place, and what I saw confirmed that fact.
Well, I thought, I’d been wanting to go to the spa, all right, but not that way.
The incident had proved that somebody knew I was interested in the spa and either meant to take me there by force—or see that I never got there alive. How had the live men—who were obviously from the spa—known I was in Berne? Through Elsa—? Perhaps. But I had also talked to Verblen, the Swiss AXE agent. Could he have been the one? As I knew only too well from past experience, anything was possible.
Sixteen
“Dumplink,” Elsa greeted me as she walked through the door of her room a short while later. “I didn’t hear you come back.”
I had changed my clothes. As far as she could tell, I looked no worse for wear.
“I just got in a few minutes ago.”
“I have the most marvelous surprise for you, Dumplink,” she laughed, twirling. She was wearing a pink, ruffled negligee. She turned lightly on her toes, pointed to the open door of her room, and called.
Through the door came the other two Von Alder sisters, followed by their mother, Ursie. Both sisters were wearing pink negligees identical to the one Elsa—or was it Elsa?—was wearing. Ursie had on a quilted housecoat. Looking at the three sisters standing side by side was like looking into three mirrors reflecting the same image.