The Ruby Ray Mystery

by John Blaine

  The shrubbery would give some cover once they reached the chalet, but they would have to cross fifty yards of grass before reaching it. To the left of the chalet Rick could see the gleam of starlight on two cars. He couldn’t make out details, but he thought one was the Mercedes-Benz sedan carrying the Megabuck unit. Beyond the cars, pine woods began. Rick knew the woods continued right up to the fence. There would most certainly be guards in the woods. He hoped the guards kept their attention focused on the most probable point of attack-the fence itself.

  “Here we go,” Scotty whispered. He rose to a crouch, then keeping low, he covered the distance to the house like a fast-moving shadow. Rick waited until he saw Scotty’s arm lift, then he followed, trying to keep low. He ran on tiptoe over the springy turf and joined Scotty in the shrubbery below the porch.

  They waited while long moments ticked away, but there was no sign of alarm or pursuit.

  No one had observed their coming. Moving with extreme caution, they stood up, heads and shoulders emerging from the shrubbery.

  Rick shook his head in disappointment. The porch was too high. The lighted windows were above their heads. There was nothing else to do, but to go up on the porch. First, though, they ought to try to find a vantage point that was less exposed.

  “Let’s make a circuit of the house,” he whispered to Scotty.

  “Okay. But let’s separate. I’ll go left and you go right. Keep going until we meet.”

  Rick squeezed his arm in acknowledgment. Scotty stepped out of the shrubbery, and keeping low, he crossed the open space in front of the porch steps, then vanished into the shrubbery again. Rick turned right, and got down on hands and knees. He crawled through the tunnel formed by the arching shrubbery branches overhead-shrubbery to his right and the porch foundation to his left. The tunnel smelt of cultivated earth.

  He reached the end of the porch and turned left around the corner of the chalet. The ground on the side of the chalet was clear of shrubbery. He stood upright and held perfectly still while his eyes probed the darkness around him. The pulse throbbed in his temple and he thought he could hear his own heart beat in the silence.

  There was movement inside the house, more sensed than heard. The chalet was well insulated from the weather, naturally, and that meant it was unusually soundproof-or so he reasoned. He could see lighted windows in the side of the chalet, but they were above eye level. He guessed the windows were placed high to keep them clear of the snow in winter. But no matter what the reason, they were too high for him to see into.

  If he could get some distance from the house he might be able to look in, he decided.

  Off to his right was the very end of the cliffs; but it was screened by low trees, probably more spruce. Between him and the trees was open ground.

  Looking down the side of the house he could make out some sort of small building in the rear. Beyond the outbuilding the cliff rose almost sheer into the sky. There was no one in sight in any direction. Rick turned away from the house, and keeping out of the light from the windows, he ran swiftly to the trees.

  Once in the shelter of the trees, he moved until he could see through the windows. He clenched his fists in disappointment. He couldn’t see much. The room nearest the front appeared to be a bedroom. It was wallpapered like a bedroom, he thought, and he could see a big wardrobe closet. The room nearest the back was more interesting. For one thing, the illumination was unusually bright, and the walls were white andunpapered .

  Rick could see a tall cabinet of white enameled steel, and a rod of chrome that thrust up at an odd angle, and that was all.

  No one appeared in either of the rooms. He waited for perhaps three minutes, then decided he had to start moving again. He moved away from the revealing light toward the back of the house, then with a final look to be sure no one was in sight, he ran to the side wall again and moved directly under the brightly lighted window.

  The sill was about a foot over his head. He reached up and felt for a grip, but the sill was flat and smooth. His fingers would have to take his weight. He gave a little spring and chinned himself on the sill . . . and looked into an operating room!

  For a moment he held on, then had to drop to the ground again. He leaned against the wall. An operating room! There was an operating table, a sterilizer, tanks of gas that probably were anesthetic and oxygen, and a huge light that cast a brilliant white glow over everything.

  Keller was a surgeon. But what was the connection between Keller and an operating room high in theAlps ?

  It was time he joined Scotty. Rick moved to the rear corner of the chalet and looked around cautiously. About midway down the length of the chalet, light was coming from

  some opening, but he couldn’t tell if it was a door or window.

  He could see the outlying building a bit more clearly now. It looked like a shed, probably for tools. Against one wall was firewood, a cord or more of logs set with mathematical precision in a high stack. Behind the house and shed was the sheer wall of the upper cliff.

  Rick rounded the corner of the chalet and moved down its length toward the light. He stifled a gasp as a figure rose from the ground and faced him. In the same instant he knew it was Scotty.

  The dark-haired boy leaned close.“Nothing but bedrooms on the other end. The light is the kitchen door. There’s a cook in there working at a counter. Everyone must be in front.”

  “What do we do now?” Rick whispered, and was afraid that he knew.

  “We’ll have to get up on the porch.”

  It was the answer Rick expected. He turned without a word and led the way back.

  Under the operating-room window, he paused and whispered into Scotty’s ear.

  “That’s an operating room overhead, fully equipped.”

  “I hope the operations in there were more successful than the one we’re on,” Scotty whispered back.

  Rick grinned. Scotty was so right!

  The boys moved swiftly to the corner of the chalet and crawled into the shrubbery tunnel, not stopping until they reached the porch steps. They lifted their heads above the shrubbery cautiously, searching for any sign of life. There was none.

  Scotty stood up to his full height, gripped the porch rail and tested it, then drew himself up. He stepped over the rail onto the porch. Rick joined him, his pulse racing.

  The boys moved sideways until they were in a position to see into the room. Rick saw that it was a large room, dominated by a stone fireplace on the back wall. In front of the fireplace, in which a small fire was burning, was a huge U-shaped couch on which two men reclined, holding glasses in their hands. Leaning against the mantle beside the fireplace was Dr. Harold Keller.

  As the boys watched, a fourth man and a very attractive young woman of about twenty-five came from the direction of the room Rick had identified as the kitchen. They were carrying trays, but the boys did not think they were servants. The man with the young woman, who appeared to be in his thirties, was dressed in slacks and a tweed sports coat with open collar.

  Rick studied the group. One of the men on the couch was Kratov, the Soviet agent. The other man, whom they had never seen before, was bald except for a fringe of hair shaped like a horseshoe.

  The boys could hear the murmur of voices from inside, but they could not make out the words. Rick tiptoed to the wall between the window on the right and the door and put his ear against the wall.

  Scotty joined him, head bent to listen.

  It was frustrating, to put it mildly. Now and then Rick could make out a word, sometimes in English, and sometimes in German. He couldn’t understand the German, of course, but he recognized the language. Then the young woman’s voice came through clearly. Because of its higher pitch, the words were not difficult to make out. She spoke in English.

  “I am so anxious to see this marvelous ruby ray.”

  The answer was inaudible.

  The girl again: “We have all heard much of the laser, of course. Is it true it may be used as a death ra
y?”

  Keller replied, almost inaudibly. Rick made out a word or two: “. . . spec . . . vast power

  . . . much . . .” He strained to hear, his entire attention focused on the conversation within. Scotty was straining equally hard. This was important! A conversation about death rays would interest Steve Ames, even though Rick knew converting a laser to a death ray was impossible at the present stage of development.

  An unmuffled, too clear voice snapped out a command in German-and the voice was from the porch steps!

  The boys whirled, and faced the muzzle of an automatic shotgun!

  CHAPTER XVI

  Dr. Keller Explains

  Four hands shot high in the air. The shotgun wielder was not within reach, and from the expression on his face, it was clear he would not hesitate to use the weapon.

  He grated out a command in German.

  “We only speak English,” Rick said, trying to suppress the quaver in his voice.

  “ Ja . Place hands on tops of heads. Turn and face the door.”

  The boys did so. Rick was sick with chagrin. One of them should have kept guard, but they had wanted so desperately to hear the conversation within. . . .

  The shotgun carrier walked up on the porch and tapped with one hand on a window. The boys kept eyes straight ahead on the door.

  The man in the tweed jacket opened it, and looked at them in surprise. The shotgun carrier spoke over their shoulders, in French. To the boys, he said, “In you go. Be careful. I do not wish to shoot, but I will if you make a false move.”

  Tweed Jacket spoke in German to the group around the fireplace. They were all standing as the boys entered, their guard behind them.

  The shotgun carrier spoke briefly in French, and the man with the bald head stepped forward and addressed the boys in English.

  “You were listening on the porch? How did you get here?”

  Neither boy answered. Rick’s eyes sought Keller’s face. The American doctor was watching with interest.

  The bald-headed man made a gesture of impatience. “I cannot believe you came over the fence. The alarm is in working order and three men are patrolling at all times.

  Therefore, you must have come down from above, or up from below. I should say the latter.”

  “We climbed up from the road,” Rick said. There was nothing to gain by remaining still.

  The bald-headed man shook his head.“An act of desperation. It is such a difficult climb

  we do not even bother to guard it. Why would two boys be so desperate as to make such a climb?”

  Rick shrugged.

  The bald man asked the shotgun carrier, “Are they armed?”

  “I have not yet checked. Kurt, will you come around behind them? You two will stand quiet. We search you. Keep your hands on top of heads.”

  The man who had helped the girl carry trays went around behind them. In a moment Rick felt his clothes briskly patted, with special attention given to his belt, underarms, thighs, and boot tops. His wallet was lifted from his buttoned hip pocket and tossed to the bald man.

  Scotty received similar treatment. A hand patted Rick’s breast pocket, unbuttoned the flap, and extracted his passport, which was also tossed to the bald man, along with Scotty’s.

  The bald man beckoned to them. “Come and sit down in front of the fire. You may take your hands down now, but keep them still.” He opened the passports and compared pictures with faces.

  “Richard Brant and Donald Scott,” he said.“Americans.Address given asSpindrift Island,New Jersey.”

  Dr. Keller’s eyes opened wide. “I thought you looked familiar,” he said to Rick. “You are Hartson Brant’s son!”

  Rick nodded. There was no point in denying it.

  “I met your father inCopenhagen . You were there with him?”

  “Yes, sir,” Rick replied.

  A new voice spoke from a doorway. Rick turned his head. A tall emaciated man in a thick woolen robe was standing in the doorway of what was apparently a bedroom. The voice was accented.“Spindrift? I know that name. It is the famous scientific foundation, yes?”

  Dr. Keller answered. “Yes, Doctor. One of these boys is the son of the director, Dr.

  Hartson Brant. This is extraordinary! Exactly what are you doing here, young Mr. Brant?

  What led you to undertake such a climb? Did you follow me here fromCopenhagen ?”

  Rick was sensitive to atmosphere; he sensed no menace in the room. With the possible exception of Kratov and the shotgun carrier, the men were curious but not threatening.

  Keller was clearly astonished, but he seemed friendly enough. Rick decided to admit a few things.

  “We followed you fromCopenhagen , yes, sir. We climbed the cliff because it was the only way we could get in, to keep track of you.”

  “But why would Hartson Brant’s son want to keep track of me?” Keller asked with obvious bewilderment. “Does your father know of this? Did he send you?”

  “He knows,” Rick said. “He didn’t send us.”

  Kratov spoke for the first time. “If these two trailed Dr. Keller fromCopenhagen , they are not amateurs. Furthermore, they are not simply two curious boys.” He shot at them,

  “Who do you represent?”

  “Dr. Keller,” Scotty said calmly.

  Kratov snorted. “It is clear that Dr. Keller is not aware of this. Come now. Do not make it hard on yourselves. Who do you represent?”

  Rick spoke up. “We represent a friend of Dr. Keller, a man who is concerned about his safety.”

  “But why should anyone be concerned about my safety?” Keller asked. “I am in no danger.”

  Rick addressed the American directly. “Sir, while you were inCopenhagen , a woman moved in with your family. This woman is a dangerous person who is believed to represent one of the Communist countries. Our friend visited your family and suspected this woman was holding your family as hostages. He asked us to keep an eye on you.

  That’s all.”

  Keller’s reaction was instantaneous and angry. He turned on Kratov. “You did this? You assigned someone to stay with my family, even though I had agreed voluntarily to try to be of service?”

  Kratov shrugged.“A routine precaution.”

  Keller’s face grew livid. “How dared you! Even though I agreed without hesitation to try to assist a distinguished colleague who happened to be Russian, you had to insert your cursed police-state tactics and hold my family as hostages! You listen to me, Kratov. Call off your dog and do it now! There will be no further activity here until a phone call from my wife has assured me that your guard has been removed. Do you understand?”

  Rick listened with interest. One thing was perfectly clear. Keller was no Communist, or even much of a sympathizer-if he sympathized at all. That business about ‘try to assist a distinguished colleague’ fitted in with the story about meeting with a Russian scientist.

  Who was the scientist?The man in the robe? Rick looked at the gaunt face and felt a tug of familiarity. He had seen the face before. But who was the man? What was his name?

  The bald man spoke reprovingly to Kratov. “I will never understand why you Soviets must view everything with suspicion. Even a simple, humanitarian act of friendship such as Dr. Keller has agreed to perform. You are a fool, Kratov.”

  The man in the robe spoke heavily. “Indeed he is a fool. Kratov, go to the phone now and issue the necessary instructions to carry out Dr. Keller’s wishes. Then place a call for later to Mrs. Keller, allowing enough time for your instructions to be carried out. Go at once.”

  Kratov did so, without a word. Rick watched with curious interest. If Kratov was the chief Soviet agent inEurope and he took orders from the man in the robe, that man must be someone of very great importance. He studied the man’s face. It was that of a scholar, with keen intelligence in the gray eyes. But it was also the face of a man in poor health, probably suffering pain. Again he tried to connect a name with the face and couldn’t.

  Keller spo
ke to the boys. “Thank you for telling me. I suspect that our mutual friend is called Steve.”

  Scotty replied, “That’s the one, sir.”

  “I’m grateful to him. But, boys, I still don’t understand how you could possibly have followed me. Kratov insisted on complete secrecy, although it was of no concern to me, and he said his men would make certain that no one followed us.”

  “The insurance just wasn’t very good,” Rick said.

  The bald man asked suddenly, “Have you eaten?”

  The boys said together, “No, sir.” Both of them had noticed the thick sandwiches and

  snacks on the trays.

  “You must be starved after such a climb. Forgive my failure to be hospitable, but it is not too late to make amends.” He spoke to the girl. “Gretchen, would you beso kind as to serve our young guests?”

  So they were guests, and not prisoners, Rick noted with interest.

  Keller was smiling at them. “You’re an amazing pair. Tell me, were you on the train fromParis ?”

  “Yes, sir,” Scotty answered.

  “Hmmm.We returned from the dining car to find a man waiting for us in the

  compartment.A very unpleasant man who had a pistol. He insisted that we leave the train atDijon with him, and we could not very well refuse under the circumstances. Then, with no warning, we turned to find him lying on the platform. Did you, by any chance, see what happened?”

  “Who was the man?” Rick asked.

  “I don’t know. Kratov said only that he was an enemy.”

  Rick grinned mirthlessly. “If he meant an enemy ofCommunism, that covers most of the civilized people of the world.”

  The man in the robe said gently, “I’m sure you don’t wish to engage in a philosophical political discussion, Mr. Brant. Perhaps we should stick to facts of the case and refrain from making political statements.”

  Scotty spoke up. “I’m beginning to gather that there are both Communists and non-Communists here, and that the non-Communists are not necessarily Commie

  sympathizers, either.”