The Golden Circle (16 page)

A siren screamed out on the wet street and suddenly died.

Nita asked, "What about that guy out there?"

"He's still alive," said Colma. "Just barely."

"If he dies, that'll be a murder tag on all of us, won't it?"

"Yeah, it could work out that way."

More footsteps sounded in the space between buildings. "Maybe he won't die," said Nita.

"I'm hoping he doesn't," said the stocky lieutenant. "He's a good man. Got a wife and two kids, little kids."

"The sad stuff doesn't move me much," said Nita. "But I don't like the idea of a murder charge."

Colma said, "Maybe I could do something."

"Oh, sure." Nita nodded at the room. "Only just me and you in here, chief. You can make me an awful lot of promises. Then later, it'd only be my word."

Leaning out toward her, he said, "If I tell you I can do something, that's my word. It's good."

"Ha, sure. A cop's word and ten cents will buy you a paper."

Colma sat watching her. They both heard the wounded detective being loaded on a stretcher out in the alley.

"Okay," said Nita. "Suppose I told you a few things?"

"I might be able to get you detached from a murder charge," said Colma. "I already know something about you folks."

"From Sweeney Todd?"

"He was one of my sources of information, yes."

"That explains tonight," sighed Nita. "Well then, what is there left to tell?"

The ambulance siren howled as the vehicle roared

away.

"Todd claimed he didn't know where your loot is stashed," said Colma. "Or has it all been fenced?"

"Some of it" Nita crossed her long legs. "A lot of it we still got,"

"The take from the Steiner job out on Long Island, for instance?"

The black girl uncrossed her legs, stretched them out straight, crossed them the other way. "Yeah, chief. That's still in storage."

"Where?" Colma made lists of his hands, tapping them lightly together.

"We got a house, a big old house," Nita Said finally. "There's a special room down in the basement. It's all stored down there."

"Whereabouts is the house?"

"Out on Long Island, hanging over the Sound." Nita gave him specific information on how to get to the house.

"Thanks, Nita." Colma hopped down off the table.

"We still got a deal?"

He crossed to the doorway. "Don't worry."

VerPoorten said, "I'm glad I don't live out here anymore. The Long Island Expressway makes me nervous. And this isn't even the rush hour." He shot their car around a slow moving truck.

The lieutenant had been talking on the radio. He finished, then said to his partner, "It's all set with the local boys. They're going to surround the place, then wait for us. Unless the dames make a break before we get there."

"How many girls in the gang did Nita say?"

"Around forty."

"Yeah, that's what Connie said, too. That's a lot of women to try to keep under control." "They've done a pretty good job for a couple of years."

"Oh, reach into my pocket," said VerPoorten. '1 forgot to tell you about it."

Colma did as bidden. "What's this, a chocolate bar?"

"Keep digging around. I've got a note in there, something I got over the phone."

"Yeah, here it is." Colma unfolded the notebook page, holding it near the dash lights. " 'Fox Kennels'"

"Notice how some people go into professions which suit their names? That's the guy about fifty miles out of the city who may be boarding a wolf."

Colma read the full address to himself. He refolded the note. "I wonder if we'll run into Walker out here tonight."

"We might," said VerPoorten. "Oops, there's the turnoff ramp we want." He zigzagged their car through the traffic.

"What makes you think Walker is going to be there?"

"Didn't Nita mention it?"

"I didn't ask her about him."

"I asked Connie," said VerPoorten. "She tells me they've got him locked in the basement."

"Locked in the basement?"

"The general opinion among the girls is that Walker is a police spy," explained the big detective.

Colma sank back in his seat. "I thought this busi- nes was starting to make sense," he said. "But it's still crazy."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Phantom fell straight down through the chill

air.

Before he even hit the water he was tugging at the ropes which bound his wrists. As Mara had promised, the cords were tied with breakaway knots. Giving a final pull, he got his hands free.

There was a great splash when his weighted sack smashed into the river. The Phantom had his hands free, but his feet were still securely tied and he was sewn tight inside his sack full of stones.

The icy river water began to force its way through the pores of the rough sacking. He held his breath as he was pulled down and down toward the rocky bottom of the river.

'Time to use Mara's gift," he thought to himself.

He made a powerful slashing movement upward with the small sharp knife the blonde girl had pressed into his hand during the few moments they had been alone in his cell.

The soggy burlap resisted. The Phantom jabbed and slashed again. He had less than a half minute of air
left
in his lungs.

The material gave. A rip formed and grew longer and wider.

He kicked his bound legs sending the weighted sack continuing on its downward journey.

Stroking strongly, the Phantom headed for the surface and air.

Just below his goal he became aware of a glowing square above him. He was still directly under the trapdoor.

Lungs straining, the urge to open his mouth and gasp in air growing ever stronger, the Phantom forced himself to swim away from the light It wouldn't do to have Beth notice him now.

A second passed, another. Finally he shot up into the air. He took a deep breath, treading water, eyes on the trapdoor opening several yards off.

After another satisfying intake of air, he doubled up in the dark waters to cut away the ropes around his ankles. The current carried him toward the sea.

The last of the encircling ropes fell away. He swam over to the side of the cavern.

The river had cut its way through earth and rock to form a long cavernous tunnel to the ocean.

"Bon voyage, Mimi," came Beth's voice from above.

Seconds later another human bundle came plummeting down.

The Phantom, gulping in air, dived beneath the surface. Determined strokes carried him against the current"

It was black and cold down here. But the Phantom's instincts were good. He judged exactly where Mimi had hit, and where the rapidly sinking sack would be.

He threw one arm around the heavy sack, kicking with his feet. Once again he swam away from the yellow glow of the opening.

He let the river carry him, at the same time swimming toward the surface.

He thrust his and Mimi's head up above the water at the moment the trapdoor closed.

Blackness and the roar of the river surrounded

them.

The Phantom pulled his burden over toward the side of the cavern. He'd noticed a narrow ledge there while there'd still been light from above.

Depositing the bound girl on the ledge, he pulled himself up beside her. "You're okay now, Mimi," he said while he gently cut the sacking away from her.

The girl lay as he had placed her. Not moving, not speaking.

"Mimi, are you all right?" He cut the ropes from her hands, then felt for a pulse.

"That was worse than the pool at the Steiners' place," she said in a small voice. "But I like your bedside manner, Dr. Walker."

'There, your feet are free," he said.

With his help she sat up. "Looks like another dress is ruined," she said. "Outside of that I'm in pretty good shape, I think, all things considered." She felt out in the dark and located him. Locking her arms around his neck, she kissed him. "How'd you work it? I thought we were both finished and done for."

Hhe tapped the knife against the rock wall. "Mara managed to slip me a knife."

"Good old Mara. She's getting positively saintly in her old age."

The Phantom asked, "About how far are we from the Sound?"

"The river runs straight from here on," replied Mimi. "So it can't be more than a few hundred yards."

"Is there any way to get back up into the house from here?"

"Back into the house? That's the last place I want to go. I'd rather swim all the way across to Bridgeport, Connecticut, than face another go-round with Beth and company."
"I want to stop them from getting away," said the Phantom.

"Okay, so you can call the cops from a gas station or someplace," the girl told him. "After we get out. In fact, there's a pay phone at the little general store near the country club."

"Mimi, the police may not get here in time to catch Beth. I want to make sure she's caught."

Mimi said, after a pause, "Well, there is a ladder. It should be along here on this side. It takes you up into the back pantry.
I
've always thought the former owners must have been bootleggers or something."

"Do you know where they put my guns?"

"Probably in Beth's little office. That's right across from the kitchen."

With the Phantom in the lead and Mimi holding his hand they moved, single file, along the rocky ledge. After covering roughly twenty-five feet the Phantom's free hand struck metal. "Here it is," he said, 'Is the trapdoor likely to be locked?"

"No, there's not even a lock on it." Mimi tightened her grip on his hand. "Walker, you know just before they threw you down here and I figured you and I were going to be separated for good ... I told you I liked you very much?"

"Yes, I remember that."

"Well, I still feel that way," said Mimi. "But I really don't want to go up there with you."

He turned, placed both hands on her shoulders. "Can you get out to the beach by yourself?"

"Yes, this ledge goes right out to the sand."

"Then go on by yourself," the Phantom said. "Get to that little store you mentioned. "It'll be closed by now and no one will notice you waiting beside it for me."

"You'll come for me there?"

"Yes, when I finish what I have to do."

"And after that?"

"I'll talk to you about that," he said, letting go of her. He took hold of the sides of the ladder. "You really have to go up and face them again?" "Yes," he told her. He began climbing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The Phantom lifted the trapdoor an inch. The back pantry was dark. He heard many feet hurrying through the halls, crossing and recrossing the floors above. "The moving out operation continues," he said to himself.

He eased up into the small closetlike room. Canned goods, packaged cake mixes and jars of jam stood on the shelves around him, along with six flat bottles of mineral water. Some light was coming in from the partially open door.

Out in the big kitchen a girl was hurriedly packing utensils into a cardboard carton. She had a pistol thrust in the waistband of her cocoa colored slacks. Her back was to him.