by Unknown
Nick was flabbergasted. “Of all the damned silliness,” he said. “If it’s robbery—”
“We are not concerned with money,” Mr. Sze said. “Please leave your bags, sah. Sit still; you are to be a prisoner. It is a happy occasion that you are being so very sensible.” He started the car again. “I will put the pistol in my pocket with my hand around it. You will drive with me. Obey me. I sincerely trust you will behave like a gentleman, for if so, there will be no regrettable violence. Nothing will happen if your behavior is exemplary. Please, sah, now.”
Nick was scarlet with anger and frustration. The man was bluffing probably, and yet Nick didn’t want to take a chance, not with a pair of eyes like that. If he could only have seen some expression in the face he might have been able to make a few guesses, but the face was void. He dropped his bags, grimly, desperately, and sat back.
Mr. Sze drove. On the edge of Waiana, he turned off the main road and presently stopped the car in front of a small cottage, placing the right side of the car so close to the wall that Nick could not get out on that side. Mr. Sze opened the door on his side and got out and stood behind the door.
“That is very excellent,” Mr. Sze said. “With haste, if you please, Dr. Adams, we have so little time. That way out.”
“Oh, all right, damn you, I’m coming,” Nick said grimly.
Mr. Sze waited. There was no sign of the pistol, no need for sight of it. When he neared the end of the seat, Nick saw that Sze’s position behind the door was vulnerable. His own nerve was good. When he came abreast of it, he dropped both of his bags, braced both feet against the half-opened door and slammed the door wide open, grateful that it was steel. It struck Mr. Sze with a shuddery thud, knocked the Chinese down. Nick touched the starter, put the car in gear, drove off. He had a momentary glimpse of Sze rolling on the ground. He waited to be shot at. No shots however. In the mirror he saw Mr. Sze, his face void of anger. Nick was a little dismayed at Mr. Sze’s lack of expression. It was very unreal. No fury, no despair, no frustration, nothing. He stood on the street, regaining his feet, like an innocent tourist, hands in his pockets, and watched the car go. It was a chilling sensation to see him. Then Mr. Sze disappeared, along with the confused and unimpressive patterns of Waiana, and the car was rolling southwest toward Honolulu. There was no point in calling the police now. Oahu was an island. Sze would not get away. There was the cottage too. Nick hoped fervently that he would never meet Mr. Sze again. It had been a very unpleasant experience.
CHAPTER TWO
THE DEVIL IS LOOSE!
s far as Koko Head, he had worried about Venner’s telegram. Now he worried about H. H. Sze. Life could be incredible sometimes. It had happened before. You could get along for a year without the slightest deviation in a monotonous routine, and then, for no reason at all, you were whisked into a maelstrom.
Consideration of Venner’s telegram was really de trop because he could only conjecture. The wire was a trifle spectacular and melodramatic and Nick conservatively doubted that disaster of any kind except typhoon, earthquake or hurricane could be imminent within forty-eight hours. How could you put a time limit on disaster? And why the devil was he so important to Venner? It did not read, Request your assistance. Oh, no, it was Require your assistance. A very urgent touch. He reminded himself not to be angry with Venner when the disaster turned out to be a phantom. The average person was secretly addicted to exaggeration, and it had taken Nicholas Adams many years of painstaking research to speak the facts of a fact and not what might be startling about a fact.
He could not however dismiss Mr. Sze as easily. Mr. Sze had been in earnest. The pistol had been real.
He thought, What did the bandit want with me? Is the prestige of the Cardwell Institute so great that he had visions of kidnaping and a glowing ransom? He seemed too practical for such an idea. And he knew about Venner—and the wireless!
It was true, as he was well aware, that the Cardwell Institute did enjoy a prestige in Hawaii akin to that jealously guarded by the old guard mercantile firms whose ancestry dated back to the pre-treaty days of iron men and sailing ships, and all this because lives were saved by it.
Lord knows that was true enough. Nick himself had been saving fifty thousand lives a year now for many years, and he could get tired of saving lives. They didn’t want to be saved. You showed a cause and a result. Like the hookworm in Malaya. It didn’t make any difference usually. The boys were too damned lazy to use the latrines, and too damned anemic from hookworm to worry about death. So you broke out the thymol and gave them the works one more time and for a while you got it well under control again.… But give it a year.
Nick Adams had never been too philosophical. There had been nothing philosophical about his reply to the young Japanese medico who, during the aftermath of the Japanese earthquake, had asked him, “How can you Americans be so generous with this money and all these supplies and medicines? You will forgive my distrust but is there not some hidden reward for you, in this dispensation?”
“Sure,” Nick had said baldly. “There is balm in Gilead for an old man’s soul. The gentleman who founded this Institute, Alexander Cardwell the First, made some ninety millions of dollars stealing railroads from other gentlemen. And when he wizened and saw the yawning grave before him, he repented, and wished to gather a smattering of honor unto his perfidious name. So for all this, you are to remember Cardwell San as a gentleman and a scholar and a great humanitarian instead of a robber baron and bandit. Do I make myself clear?” Such logic however was beyond the understanding of a Japanese.
Well, the old man was eight years buried now, and the fact remained that what had started out as a vanity had become one of the most renowned and powerful healing organizations on earth, the Rockefeller Institute being the only comparable group.
Nick dropped his chin onto the palm of his hand and stared gloomily out of the car window.
“Damn that Sze!” he growled. “What the devil did he want with me anyhow?”
At Pearl City, he abandoned the car. He was glad to be out of it. He took his bags and walked down the alanui until he found a taxicab which he instantly hired. He told the Hawaiian driver: “The Royal Hawaiian and wikiwiki!”
But before he reached the hotel, he saw that the driver had taken Bishop Street and he was half prompted to stop off at the Cardwell Institute laboratories and see his friend Paul Cameron. On second thought, he decided to ring Cameron from the hotel.
He did this. After registering and being given his room facing southward on Waikiki Beach and the ocean, from which, nevertheless, he could still see the wreckage in the city where Jap bombs had dropped, he telephoned the labs. Dr. Cameron came to the hotel at once.
“In the name of heaven, Nick,” Cameron exclaimed, shaking hands with him. “When did you get in?”
“When did I get in?” Nick said. “Didn’t you get my message?”
“Message?”
“Paul, the very devil is loose on this island. Something is very much wrong. I wirelessed you from Molokai, asking you to meet me at the plane, along with Colonel Venner. I wanted your advice about a grave matter. You didn’t—”
“But I never got your message, Nick,” Cameron said. He was a tall thin man with a severe face. His nose and mouth were sharp, and he had fever-hollowed cheeks, picked up from his work of many years in Singapore on malarial control of the swamps of the island. His eyes were brown and soft and very remote. “Mind you, I’m glad to see you, Nick, but I didn’t expect you. You told us you’d be out there with the lepers of Molokai from three to five months—”
“Yes, I know, but this strange thing came up—we’ll talk about it. How are Dr. Wing and Andrews?”
“Both fine.” Cameron sighed. “Of course, since the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor, the whole place has become an armed camp, no chance for amenities or social graces—”
“That’s as it should be,” Nick Adams said. “Tell me something. Did you ever hear of a man named John Venner? A
colonel in the medical corps? He’s stationed at Schofield Barracks.”
“I know who he is,” Cameron said. “But Wing is the man to tell you about Venner. Wing is a good friend of his. I think Venner is in charge of the new military hospital out near Wright Field. The Stafford in Wahiawa. Look here, Nick, why don’t you quit this hotel and bunk in at my place during your stay—”
“No, thanks,” Nick said. “Appreciate it, Paul, but I’m going to be on the move for a while, and I want to have a free hand. Suppose you have dinner here with me tonight? I want to tell you something very odd. But first I want to check on it.”
“Very well,” Cameron said. “See you tonight.”
ick was worried. He wished he knew where Venner was. Naturally, in a telegram, Venner couldn’t tell all, and yet it was confusing not to know where you stood. There had been no sign of the Army man.
Why hadn’t Venner met him? The wireless must certainly have reached him. It had been sent very early that morning, and it was now late afternoon. He wondered if Venner perhaps had planned to drop in at the hotel. How the devil would the fellow know which hotel? The Royal Hawaiian, probably, and yet there were at least six other very fine hotels. Venner had certainly been told which plane it was. No chance to have got mixed up.
Nick chewed the side of his mouth nervously. It was very hot, and his shirt was shapeless, the collar wet from perspiration. Disaster imminent in Oahu within forty-eight hours unless you and I stop it. What the devil! Oahu just wasn’t built for a disaster in forty-eight hours unless Venner were a prophet with a secret volcano or a rattling earthquake or a whistling typhoon up his sleeve. As far as the wars went, Oahu was damned near impregnable. As near impregnable as a fortress could be. Because no fortress manned by men could ever be impregnable. How could two men who had never even met each other avert a disaster that was due to pop within forty-eight hours? It wasn’t forty-eight hours any more either. It was less than that. Considering there wouldn’t be time to waste, why hadn’t Venner shown up?
He wearily dismissed the thing from his mind for the moment and closed his eyes. Finally he picked up the telephone and asked to be connected with the new Stafford Hospital in Wahiawa. He got through immediately but still could not reach Colonel Venner. The colonel was not at Wahiawa. Nick thanked the woman for the information, hung up and started frowning again. Almost instantly, the telephone rang.
“Colonel John Venner to see you, sir.”
“Send him up at once,” Nick said. He spoke much too loud in his relief.
He got a towel from the bath and wrapped it around his throat to soak up the sweat and spare the collar of his linen suit. He felt much better now. When the knock came on the door, he said: “Come in, please.”
The man who came in was tall and heavily built, red-faced, mustached. He was forty or so but Nick had the distinct impression that he was trying to look younger.
“Colonel Venner?” he said.
“Right,” said the officer. He smiled broadly and shook hands. He had an iron grip. He was dressed in a smart uniform, and there were some decorations over the heart, and a medal. Over the shoulders were the oak leaves. And on the collar of the tunic was the Medical Corps standard. “Dr. Adams, I owe you the most profound of apologies.”
“Have a seat,” Nick said. “I expected you at the airport. But I thought you might find me here. I don’t mind saying that your telegram has intrigued me insidiously ever since I got it. I came down from Molokai, at once. I’m at your service, Doctor.”
“That’s very decent of you,” said the officer. “It makes it so much the harder for me to tell you that—well—it’s done.”
“What’s done?”
“What I mean to say, Doctor, is that I no longer have any need for you. I had stumbled on a rather heinous and far-flung plot and I admit to the fact that I was terrified by it. I had heard that you were in Molokai, and knowing your reputation—there were lesser medicos I could have had to assist—I wired you at once. Then by an unbelievable stroke of luck, I came into some facts which exploded the whole plot. I had the malcontents arrested and the entire incident is closed.”
“You mean I missed the whole thing?”
“Quite.” The officer smiled. “You regret that?”
“Certainly,” Nick said, disappointed. “I’d anticipated so much of it—you haven’t told me what it was and why you wanted me?”
“And I am afraid I cannot tell you now,” he replied.
“Hell, man, have a heart.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” said the colonel. “But secrecy is absolutely vital. And since the affair is closed, it would be better if no one but the superiors here knew. Not a good story to get around. Might give people ideas, you know. Your expenses down here will be taken care of, Doctor, and you have our eternal gratitude for your prompt action.”
“Oh well,” Nick said, “I rather thought it would be a phantom anyhow.”
“I hope we didn’t pull you away from something as important. In any case—”
“Leprosy at Molokai.”
“I was going to say, in any case, you are free to return. And I assure you—”
Nick was weary of his politeness. “Never mind, Doctor, that’s all right. We’ll say no more about it. But I don’t think I’ll be going back to Molokai. I’d like very much to visit your new hospital, if I may.”
“Of course you may!” said the colonel. “Suppose I give you a buzz. You could come out to Wahiawa for tea, and I’d show you through. We have all the military cases. Most interesting. When could you come out?”
Nick said, “Any time.”
“Well—” said the colonel, “I’m going to be rather busy until Thursday. Suppose I give you a ring on Thursday?”
“Suppose you do,” Nick said. He was annoyed.
“Righto. Call you Thursday then. And again, many thanks for dashing down here so diligently. Like a fire wagon going to a fire!”
“I’ve had to put out many fires,” Nick said. “Sometimes I have to work fast. Good-bye, Colonel.”
He showed the fellow to the door, and when he opened the door the edge of it struck another man outside who had been on the point of knocking. The colonel brushed by quickly and went down the hall. He did not wait for the elevator, but descended by the stairs. Nick took the second man by the shoulders and said: “Eddie Wing! The only man in the world I am always glad to see. Come on in, Eddie.”
Dr. E. V. Wing was little, young and irrepressible. He was so small that a strong breeze could have blown him away. He was a native Hawaiian, with the C.I. labs.
“It is very delightful to see you again, sweetheart,” Dr. Wing said. “I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Nick said. “I guess I got pretty used to you, Eddie. You look fine.”
“As ever,” Dr. Wing said, cheerfully. “Cameron said you were back. I thought I’d better come right over and apologize. I’m the guy who got you into this thing, Nick. I mean—the reason you came back to Oahu. I told Venner where you were. He knew you were in the islands. He asked me where.… It is good to see you, palsy. I hope I did not interrupt you and the officer? I should have telephoned. Paul said you were in, and I took the liberty of coming over at once.”
Nick said: “You didn’t interrupt anything but a lot of beating about the bush. I’ll tell you about it later. Colonel Venner of the Medical Corps just came to see me to beg off demanding my assistance.”
Eddie Wing blinked, silent for a moment. “Are you kidding?” he said. “You mean that the officer who just left—”
“Yes! That was Venner! Brought me all the way down here on an emergency and then ditched me after I got here.” Nick smiled wryly.
“Nicholas,” Eddie Wing said, “I am afraid you have been duped.”
Nick frowned. “I have a weakness for getting duped.”
“I mean that the guy who just left here was not Colonel Venner. If he said so, he’s a phony.”
“Eddie, are you sure? He—�
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“Your humble pardon, Nick-ole-ass, but these ferret eyes can see pretty well!”
“Then who the devil—” Yes, and what the devil and why the devil and a lot of other queries sprung into his mind. All went unanswered. Nick stared at the door blankly, trying to arrange his thoughts in some sort of pattern, but they would not fall into line. He picked up the telephone and said: “Get me Army Intelligence at Schofield, please.”
The desk clerk wanted to ask if something was wrong but he didn’t. Presently the station answered. Nick said: “Lieutenant Kerry, please.” Allan Kerry was an old friend.
“Kerry here,” Kerry said. “Army Intelligence.”
“Kerry, this is Nicholas Adams. I’m at the Royal Hawaiian.”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“I’ve just had an unusual experience. A gentleman dressed in the uniform of the United States Army, rank of colonel, visited me and passed himself off falsely as one John Venner. I wondered if you people wanted to do something about it.”
“Silly boy!” said Kerry. “I’ll give you Captain Malta. He’s in charge of that sort of thing. Hold on.”
Captain Malta had a kettle drum voice which rattled from the depths of his diaphragm without effort. “Do you have this guy with you still?”
“No, I’m sorry, he’s gone. I can give you a pretty good description.”
“Do that,” Captain Malta said. “We’ll see if we can’t pick him up. I’d like to see him.”
Nick described the impostor accurately. “Understand, I just could be mistaken. Perhaps it really was Venner. But the chances are a hundred to one it was an impostor.”
“There are no chances involved,” Captain Malta said. “Thank you for your information, Doctor. I’ll see you personally soon.”
“Very well,” Nick said and, curiously, “How do you know there are no chances involved?”
“Because Colonel John Venner happens to be dead,” replied Captain Malta. “He was murdered in the dark sometime late last night and we only recovered his body at noon today.”