Dick bolted down the stairs and ran to the back of the house. As he reached for the knob, the door suddenly heaved inward. Dick had assumed that Kurtz would use the front entrance. Now Kurtz would notice that someone had tampered with the back door. Dick didn’t want to confront him as a housebreaker. He raced into the living room, ducking behind the sofa. The light was too dim for Kurtz to have seen Dick’s sprint up the corridor, but he probably heard his steps.
“Who’s there?” The words rang out in a deep baritone—a voice accustomed to command. “Who is in my house?”
Dick remained crouched behind the sofa.
Kurtz stomped heavily through the hallway, tapping with his stick. “You might as well come out. It’s only a matter of time before I catch you.” Dick noticed a slight European accent.
Kurtz snatched up a heavy board leaning against the stairwell, balancing it with one hand as if it were a pool cue. For a man of medium build, he possessed unusual strength. Dick watched him take a few steps down into the basement and return with a hammer and nails. What was he up to? He proceeded to the back of the house. Turning the board diagonally, he began pounding nails into it.
He’s boarding up the back entrance! Dick realized. Trapping me inside.
“I said it was only a matter of time.” Kurtz called, with a robust laugh that echoed down the hall.
Pound, pound, pound.
“Come out and let me take a look at you.”
A drop of perspiration rolled down Dick’s back.
Pound, pound, pound.
“No one will ever break in here again. I’m making certain of that.”
The job completed, Kurtz lay down the hammer and walked into the living room. He lit an old-fashioned hurricane lamp. Shadows leaped across the walls as he crossed the room and placed it on a table.
“Of course I could phone the police,” he said, “but I prefer dealing with problems directly. You, Sir, whoever you are, are a problem. My problem.”
He pulled a rapier off the wall and tested its point. Kurtz parried with an invisible opponent. “En garde! Hup-hup-hup.” The blade whistled through the air with razor-sharp menace.
“Or do you prefer the broadsword?” He pulled it down from the wall and swung it back and forth with both hands. “Choose your weapon, Sir. Speak up!”
Dick swallowed hard, perspiration beading his forehead. He was no expert with blades, and certainly didn’t want to stab Kurtz.
“You have violated the privacy of my home. You are a trespasser, an interloper. Yet I offer you a contest, a choice of weapons. I treat you like a gentleman, a worthy adversary. You spurn my invitation. Don’t you have a tongue? Can’t you speak?”
Dick remained silent, huddled into a tight ball.
“Are you dumb? Or dumbstruck? Ha, ha, ha. I am not an American by birth, but I savor the paronomastic possibilities of the English language. Have you ever reflected upon the ambiguities of the English phonic structure?”
He’s toying with me, Dick thought. The cat and the mouse. Does he know I’m behind the sofa?
Kurtz took down a halberd, a long-handled weapon with a sharp point. “A marvelous medieval weapon. One of the prize possessions of my collection. The Middle Ages was an era when men settled differences privately in hand-to-hand combat. Simpler and more primitive than our complicated system of jurisprudence. But lethally effective in resolving conflicts.” He balanced the halberd on the palm of his hand, then suddenly drew it back, and let it fly. The point drove through the center of the sofa, emerging an inch at the back.
Dick leaped up involuntarily, recoiling at the sight of Kurtz leering at him.
“So there you are,” Kurtz said, his eyes dancing with excitement. He picked up a rifle and pointed it at Dick.
“I never miss,” he said with deadly coolness. “At this distance I can peg you right between the eyes.”
He’s loony, Dick thought. I’m the game and he’s the hunter.
With lightning reflexes, Dick shouldered past Kurtz into the hall and up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. A shot whistled past his right ear, making it ring. Dick searched for stairs leading to the roof, but found none. He heard Kurtz’s footsteps mounting the staircase. Dick fled into Kurtz’s bedroom. That would be the last place Kurtz would expect him to hide. Under the bed? No, in the closet. Dick ducked inside, wedging himself into a corner behind the clothes. He felt something cold against his face. The muzzle of Kurtz’s rifle. Dick wondered if it was loaded. He couldn’t check without giving his position away.
A ridiculous predicament, he thought. I’m right where Kurtz wants me. In his own room!
Kurtz’s heavy tread sounded in the hallway.
“Come out, young man. It will do you no good to hide. I know this house like the back of my hand. You are in my territory. On my turf. Ha, ha, ha.”
Dick heard him open the empty room. His shoes shuffled along the bare wood floor. Then he heard the door click shut.
“One room eliminated, that leaves three,” Kurtz called. “Before there was a twenty-five percent probability of guessing correctly. One out of four. Now the odds have increased to one out of three.”
Dick heard his shoes clumping past the bedroom. He wondered if he had time to dash down the stairs to the front door. Dick had observed that the door was chained and bolted. Kurtz could get off a shot before he managed to open all the locks.
“We’re down to two rooms, young scholar. The guessing odds are fifty-fifty. Now which room is it? If I were a sportsman I would release you if I guess incorrectly. But I am not a sportsman. I’m a hunter. Now what were your thought processes when you selected your hiding place? You may have considered my bedroom the least likely place for me to look. So you ran straight into the lion’s den. An audacious move on your part. I had better check the other room first, though, to make sure.”
Dick heard him close the door and turn the key in the lock. He sprinted out of the closet and across the room. He tried to loosen the window lock. It was so old and rusty, he couldn’t budge it.
Dick heard Kurtz unlock the door. He dove back into the closet, feeling like a trapped animal.
“So now we are down to one room,” Kurtz said, entering the bedroom. “I must thank you for affording me this unexpected sport. Now where are you? Under the bed or in the closet? I hope it’s not the bed. That would reduce the entire exercise to slapstick. No, I won’t even consider the possibility.” He crossed to the closet. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” He pushed aside the clothing, exposing the center of the closet. “Not there. You must be in one of the corners.” He began poking into the closet with the barrel of his rifle.
“All right,” Dick called. “I’ll come out.”
Kurtz slid the clothing to the other side. Dick sat curled up, eyes staring up at him.
“Now you want to come out,” Kurtz taunted, poking his rifle at Dick. “Not so fast.”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun?” Dick asked. “You have every right to be angry at finding me in your house. But I’m sure you did some dumb things when you were my age, too.”
“You’ve found your tongue, have you?” Kurtz aimed his rifle at Dick’s head. “Don’t move a hair.”
Dick flinched back. “Wait a minute! There’s no need for a weapon.”
“No need? For all I know, you may be a dangerous criminal. Breaking and entering is a crime, you know. I would be well within my rights to use this weapon against a burglar. I have to protect myself and my home. No jury would convict me.”
“Mr. Kurtz, may I stand up and explain to you why I’m here? If you’ll let me get my wallet, I’ll show you my identification.” He reached inside his pocket.
“Keep your hands out front where I can see them!”
Dick withdrew his hand from his pocket. “I’m an investigative reporter, Mr. Kurtz. Reporters often have to work outside official channels to get a story. You understand.”
“A reporter! At your age? You can do better th
an that.”
“I write for the Gotham High Clarion. My card’s in my wallet. I’ll show you if you don’t believe me.”
“All right, slowly reach into your pocket and remove the wallet. But remember, this rifle has a hair trigger. O.K., hand it to me. No, don’t stand up!”
Dick gave him the wallet and fell back into his cramped position, knees pulled up to his chin. His muscles ached.
Kurtz flipped through Dick’s ID cards. “Dick Grayson, eh? So you are on the Clarion staff. Why are you hounding me?”
“I’m not hounding you, Sir.”
“Why do you want to invistigate me?”
“I wanted to do a close-up story about a hypnotist. It’s a fascinating occupation. When I didn’t find you home, I began poking around the back of the house, and the door fell open. I could see some of the things on the wall, and I was curious. So I went inside.”
Kurtz sighed. “I was hoping you’d be honest with me. Instead you insult my intelligence with this transparent fabrication.”
“I wanted to see Alexander Kurtz, ‘master hypnotist’ in person. It’s no lie. I’ve never seen you before. I’ve never witnessed a performance.”
Kurtz eyes grew bright. “I haven’t performed publicly in years. You want me to give a demonstration of my powers?”
“Yes, Sir. That’s just what I need for my story. May I stand up now?”
“Remain where you are!” Kurtz’s finger curled around the trigger.
“Whatever you say.”
“You don’t want to get up, Dick. You want to sit in the closet. You feel more comfortable where you are, don’t you?”
“No, Sir.”
“But it’s getting more and more comfortable. Your muscles are relaxing. Actually, you’re not sitting on a wooden floor, but on a velvet carpet. Feel how thick and soft it is.”
He’s trying to hypnotize me, Dick realized. Don’t look into his eyes.
“Look at me Dick.”
Dick averted his eyes.
Kurtz jammed the rifle under Dick’s nose. “Look at me, Dick!”
From his position, Dick couldn’t risk knocking the rifle aside. It would explode at the slightest touch. He obeyed Kurtz’s command.
“That’s better. It’s restful sitting on a velvet carpet,” Kurtz droned. “You feel relaxed. Your tension is draining away. You’re getting sleepy.”
Dick’s eyelids felt heavy. He caught himself and sat up straight, shaking off his growing drowsiness. Struggling to break Kurtz’s grip on him, he silently recited a poem. But Kurtz’s velvet smooth voice seemed to invade Dick’s thoughts.
“You cannot fight me. Do not try to resist. You want to sleep. You feel drowsier and drowsier. Your eyelids are heavy. You cannot keep them open. Let your eyes close, Dick. You’ll feel much better.”
Kurtz’s face swam before him in a mist, his eyes two beacons of light. No, don’t go to sleep part of his mind whispered insistently. Don’t listen to him. Get up! Stand up! Dick began to rise on wobbly legs, swaying back and forth.
“Sit down!” Kurtz commanded. “You’re still fighting me. Sit down, I say!”
Dick inched forward on his feet. His hand touched something smooth and metallic. The rifle! Suddenly alert, his thoughts raced. “Get back!” he shouted, brandishing the rifle. “I don’t want to use this.”
Kurtz burst into laughter. “What a sight you make standing there with an empty gun.”
“What makes you think it’s empty?”
“Young man, it was empty when I placed it there a week ago.” He raised his own rifle level with Dick’s eyes.
“How do you know I didn’t load it? See those cartridge boxes at the back of the closet?”
Kurtz’s eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing.”
“I had plenty of time to load the rifle while you were inspecting the other rooms.”
Kurtz glared balefully at Dick. “Even if it’s loaded, the moment you touch the trigger, I’ll blast you. You don’t have a chance against a marksman.”
“Don’t underestimate me,” Dick said. He had no desire to fire the gun if it could be avoided.
Kurtz laughed derisively.
“There’s no need for violence,” Dick said. “I’ll just walk out of the house and we’ll forget the entire incident.”
“Let you go unpunished for your brazen invasion of my house?”
“I explained my presence here, Mr. Kurtz. What more can I say?”
“You can say your prayers before you meet your maker.”
Dick lunged for Kurtz’s rifle, but felt his own slipping from his grasp.
“Ha!” Kurtz laughed triumphantly. “I’ve got you now.”
Grasping the clothing rod, Dick swung his legs out, kicking with both feet. Kurtz stumbled back, but managed to steady himself. As Dick’s fingers curled around the rod, it began to turn. To his surprise, the back wall of the closet slid to one side, creating an opening a little more than a foot wide.
A secret panel! Dick leaped headlong through the opening, as Kurtz snatched at him. Dick discovered a catch at the side of the panel. As he pressed it, the panel slid closed with a whoosh. Thinking swiftly, he removed his belt and jammed it into the space where the panel slid, preventing Kurtz from opening it.
Kurtz pounded on the panel, frustrated and enraged. “You won’t get away!” he cried. “I’ll get you!”
IV
As Kurtz pounded insanely on the back of the closet, Dick proceeded down a narrow, dark passageway. He felt his way carefully along the walls. Their texture had the coarseness of rough stones. Suddenly his right foot stepped out into space and he began to topple forward. With a gasp, he flung his hands outward, grasping at air. His arms struck an overhead arch that hurled him backward. He stood suspended on the brink of an unseen abyss, struggling to regain his footing. Clinging to the walls for support, he slowly recovered his balance. Then, cautiously, an inch at a time, he drew back into the safety of the passage.
Exhaling a long breath, Dick wiped sweat from his brow. It had been a close call. He felt as if he’d just stepped back from the brink of eternity. But he couldn’t just stand there forever. He had the abyss in front of him, an armed Kurtz behind him.
Digging into his pocket for a coin, Dick tossed it into the void. It gave a clunk, and then a second clunk, as if rolling down a flight of stairs. The coin continued to echo down the abyss before it fell silent.
It must be a stairway. Dick pawed the ground with his shoe, feeling for the edge. He lowered one foot slowly and carefully. It came to rest on a step. He lowered the other foot and descended the stairs, haltingly, one at a time.
It seemed an hour before he reached the bottom. His shirt was soaked with perspiration. It felt good to plant his feet on solid ground again, but he still had no idea where he was. A dark labyrinth stretched before him, wrapped in silence and dust.
He continued forward, groping blindly through the passageway, his footsteps making a dull patter on the stone floor. As Dick turned a corner, he noticed a faint light flicker in the distance. The passage must lead to a secret chamber. Creeping catlike, on the balls of his feet, he drew steadily closer. The passage widened into a dimly lit cavern. He found himself in a large, shadowy vault lit by an oil lamp. A heavy mixture of smoke and stagnant air filled the chamber.
Suddenly, with a creeping of his flesh, he saw something that made him reel backward with horror. It was a long coffinlike box with a round opening at one end. A women’s head protruded through the opening, her hair hanging down in disarray. Dick drew a fist to his mouth. A heavy blade bisected the box in two. The woman’s body had been severed in half.
Dick advanced closer—and drew a long sign of relief. He discovered that the woman was only a plaster dummy, lifelike in every detail. Dick realized that the “coffin” was a trick box used by magicians to saw a woman in two. He gazed about the chamber, his eyes lighting on other tools of the magician’s trade. Caked with dust, they had laid unused for years. Yet Kurtz must
come down occasionally, if only to replace the oil in the lamp.
As Dick crossed the chamber, it narrowed to a dark tunnel. He entered it with a sense of foreboding. He felt hemmed in, the walls closing around him. But he saw a light at the other end, and he inched his way forward. He was halfway through the tunnel when he heard a loud clang behind him. Whirling around, he saw a heavy steel grate slide down over the entrance, blocking his path of retreat. Kurtz was trying to trap him inside the tunnel. Dick raced toward the light at the other end and bounded through the opening. Gazing about, he found himself in another chamber. Behind him a grate slid down, closing the tunnel.
Kurtz let me escape from the tunnel, Dick reasoned. He wants me inside this chamber. He knows exactly where I am.
Dick walked around the chamber. It was completely empty. The walls were rough-hewn. Casting about for an exit, he found two ducts resembling ventilator shafts. They were identical in every respect. If he entered either one, it would mean crawling on hands and knees. The alternative was to remain buried in the chamber. But which duct?
He drew a coin from his pocket and tossed it in the air. Heads it’s left, tails right. The coin came down heads. Left it is then, Dick decided, crawling into the narrow opening. It was a tight squeeze and slow going. Every foot of progress was an achievement. Dick thought of Alice falling through the hole in the ground, wondering where it would end. Of one thing he was certain; he would not end up in Wonderland—though Kurtz was as mad as the Mad Hatter. Kurtz could be toying with him, offering an avenue of escape, only to trap him alive in a narrow duct. Perhaps all his exertions were propelling him toward a dead end—a blank wall. Or he might be in a circular labyrinth without an exit. He would keep going around and around like a rat in a maze.
Dick came to two branches. Again he had to make a choice: left or right. A trickle of sweat rolled down his back. Without room to flip a coin, he decided to go right. After ten yards the tunnel widened and Dick had more room to maneuver. He heard a swish, and before he could react, an arm sprang out of the wall. It was long and hairy with an enormous fist. The fingers opened, clawlike, stretching toward him. Dick scurried back to safety. The fist continued opening and closing spasmodically. It couldn’t be a human arm, Dick realized. It must belong to an ape. A gorilla. The arm groped back into the tunnel, reaching for Dick as he scampered away. Then, to his surprise, the arm suddenly went limp and fell to the ground, its fingers rigidly locked. Cautiously Dick inched toward it. It appeared stiff and lifeless, like the limb of a dead tree. Dick bent over it. He noticed coils where there should have been muscles and tendons. It was a mechanical arm whose coils had broken loose from its shoulder mounting.
The Further Adventures of Batman Page 27