The Golden Circle (9 page)

The Phantom laughed. "Law and order is the furthest thing from my mind. What I'm interested in is the size of my percentage."

A cough sounded in the corridor. "So this is where you've wandered to, Mimi." The blonde Mara came, tentatively, into the cell. '1 hope I'm not intruding."

"Mimi brought me the good news," said the Phantom.

Mara said, "I believe you have a few things to take care of upstairs still, Mimi. I've come to show Walker to his new quarters." She came over and took the masked man by the arm. "Now that you're a member of the firm, we can't have you sleeping in a dungeon."

"I can show him to his new room," said Mimi.

"There's no need," said Mara. "I'll do that. You run along and tackle the jobs you deserted to sneak down here."

After the dark girl had departed, the Phantom said to Mara, "Go easy with Mimi. She's on my side. I understand that isn't the case with all the members of your board of directors."

"You don't have to worry. Everything will work out line. I know I'm right about you," said Mara. "I have a feeling this is one of the most important things I've clone in a long while."

"That it is," agreed the Phantom.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Stubbing out his cigarette in his saucer, Lt. Colma said, "I'm getting so I can smoke them only halfway down. I'm coming closer to kicking the habit entirely."

"My sister-in-law in Yonkers tried that," said VerPoorten.

"Did it work?"

"She got so worried and upset about wasting all that tobacco, she took to drink."

"Huh," said the stocky lieutenant. He and his detec- tive partner were having breakfast in a narrow little cafe a few blocks from their Centre Street office. It was the second day after the theft of the Eye of Isis. "Let's take another look at the statements of those nitwits who were milling around the old dame when the damn stone got grabbed."

Taking a wad of yellow second sheets out of his coat pocket, the big VerPoorten handed them across the booth table. '1 brought them along."

Colma was waving toward the cafe counter. "More coffee, Eli, huh?" He tapped the streaky formica with the papers several times before looking at them. "Most people don't see anything," he observed as he began flipping through the thin pages.

"They're not what you call perceptive."

"Yeah, right. They . . . huh! Here's something I

didn't catch before." His finger jabbed at a paragraph.

VerPoorten adjusted his large body on the small booth bench in an effort to read upside down. "What's

it say?"

"One of the guys . . . that fag in the butterfly costume ... noticed something."

"Some of those gay ones have a good eye for detail."

"Here it is. 'There was one girl standing quite near poor dear Corky. . „ .* That's what they call the old dame, Corky. Huh. '. . . poor dear Corky. When the lights were turned on, she was gone. Well now, sergeant. ...' He thought you were a sergeant. 'Well now, sergeant, I don't wish to point the accusing finger unjustly, but I'd venture to say... .' Blah blah and so forth. Okay, here comes the thing I should have seen before. He's describing the girl. '. . . and the loveliest little gold pin on her bosom, sergeant. Beautifully fashioned in some strange looking gold. An arrow crossing a circle. I noticed it right off and made a mental note to ask the little thing wherever she. , . You see?"

VerPoorten was watching Eli, the cafe proprietor, refill their coffee cups. "Can't say I do, lieutenant."

"The pin." Colma slapped the page in his hand. "The damn pin."

After a second or two of looking blank, the big VerPoorten snapped his fingers. "On the train. Right?"

"Right. That guy Walker showed me a pin like that, golden arrow and a circle," said Lt. Colma. "He said one of the mysterious dames dropped it."

"And now the gal who maybe swiped the ruby is wearing one," said the detective. "That's no coincidence."

"Can't be." He tossed the yellow sheet across the (able. "Go talk to this fag again. Get him to draw you a picture of the damn pin. Then start checking it out

I want to find out who makes pins like that, who sells them, and who buys them."

After stuffing the page back into a coat pocket, VerPoorten said, "Could mean a lot of checking."

"Yeah," said the lieutenant. He slouched ba against the booth wall. He'd shaved in a hurry this morning and there was an overlooked clump of stubble on his left jaw. He fingered it now while he sipped his coffee. "Eli's coffee is almost as rotten as ours."

"I think he got the recipe from somebody over Center Street."

"Huh," said Colma. "Three girls on the train, another girl at the charity thing. I wonder."

"Think maybe we got some new kind of gang going, nothing but women?"

"It's crazy," said Colma, 'Taut then a lot of things are these days. Take the Walker guy. I can't figure him at all."

"He could be working with the gang."

Shaking his head, Colma said, "I don't read it that way."

"He was on the train. He was at the costume ball."

The lieutenant slapped the statements again. "Nobody saw him anywhere near the old Mott-Smith dame."

"Every guy involved in a heist isn't standing on top of the victim."

"Granted." Rolling up the yellow sheets of paper, Lt. Colma rested his chin on them. "This Walker guy . . . no, I don't quite figure him as a jewel thief. Don't ask me why." His chin ticked up and down a few times. "He didn't have his wolf with him at the party."

"I noticed."

"Where was it?"

"Waiting in his car?"

"Maybe," said Colma. "And maybe he left it someplace, someplace like a kennel. I'd like to have the

kennels and vets between here and Thornburg checked out. Get in touch with the appropriate people."

"You'd like to bring Walker in?"

Lt. Colma didn't answer at once. 'I don't know," he said finally. "I'd like to talk to the guy anyway. Yeah, I d like to do that"

CHAPTE
r
FIFTEEN

The sand on the narrow beach was pale yellow, flecked with colored pebbles. A mild morning wind was blowing across the Hue-green water. From down here on the beach the big Victorian house seemed almost to be teetering on the edge of the cliff high above. Further down the private stretch of beach a wide stream rushed from the eliffside to the Sound. This was the open end of the underground river that flowed beneath the house of the golden arrow.

"Here she comes at last," said Mimi, pointing at the weathered wooden stairway that wound down the steep hillside to the beach.

The Phantom, in slacks, golf pullover, and dark glasses, was standing next to the dark girl. "We can get started then," he said.

The gaunt Beth was making her way slowly down the twisting stairs. In one hand she carried a thin stick, a dry branch broken from one of the many trees that dotted their three acres of grounds.

Mara sat in a striped canvas beach chair smoking and watching the lapping waves. When she'd arrived on the beach a few minutes earlier she'd found Mimi and the Phantom in conversation. Saying nothing she'd walked to the green and white chair and dropped into it.

The three other women in the ruling circle were her e, too. Silent, as usual, and watchful.

When Beth's foot touched the sand she said, loudly, You're all absolutely sure you want buddy boy to sit In on this session?"

That's all been settled, Beth," said Mara, still watching the ocean.

The gaunt woman shrugged. "Very well, it's out of
my
hands."

The Phantom watched her making her way across the beach. "I thought we were gathered here to plan a job," he said. "So far this sounds more like a soap

opera."

Beth halted, pointed the stick at him, thrusting it hard against the air. "Nobody's asking you to attend, buddy boy."

"I'm asking me to attend," he replied. "And before we get to new business, I'd like a couple of answers. For one, what's my cut on this next caper going to be?"

The gaunt woman's nostrils flared. "The way we run things, buddy boy . . . the highly successful way, I might add, is this. You have to prove you're worth anything to us before we start dickering about figures."

"I never like to work on spec."

Mara spoke to him for the first time this morning. "You needn't worry, Walker. You won't be wasting your time with us."

Beth turned away from him. With her narrow back to the bright water she said, "The next enterprise of the golden arrow circle will, as most of you already know, take place tomorrow afternoon. This morning we want to go over the final details." Hunching slightly, she began to draw on the damp sand with the sharp end of her stick. 'This is the Steiner mansion in Stevensport. . . ." She paused to glare at the Phantom. "Stevensport is some twenty miles from here."

"Yes, I know. I've already been briefed on the

minor details," he told her. "You can stick to the important ones."

The pointed end of the stick jabbed deep into the drawing Beth had made in the sand. "Here, at the back side of the house and overlooking the Sound, is Mrs. Steiner's bedroom. We are certain she keeps most of her $800,000 worth of jewels in a locked cabinet in this bedroom. The cabinet should present no problems for you, Mara. It's not wired, not connected to any alarm system."

Mara said, "I'm still not quite comfortable about the diversion. There will be over a hundred people at the Steiners' charity cocktail party tomorrow afternoon. ..."

"Which is why it's a perfect time to strike."

"Yes, but they're also going to have six private cops in plainclothes."

"We've worked the fainting business before," said Beth. "If Mimi puts her usual verve into it most of the people there will be distracted long enough for you to slip inside the house and...."

"What's that you've drawn there?" asked the Phantom.

"What?"

He squatted down next to the rough sketch. "Right here. An outdoor swimming pool, isn't it? I'd guess that at this time of year it won't be covered but there won't be any guests using it."

"That's probably so," answered Beth curtly. "Now

J®

FFL ® «

"This would attract more attention," suggested the Phantom. He poked a gloved finger into the sand.

Mara smiled. "I see. You mean if Mimi accidentally fell, fully clothed, into the pool it would make for a pretty big diversion."

"Exactly," said the Phantom.

Mimi shivered and hugged herself. "You have some great ideas, Walker."

Stroking her sharp chin with the other end of the
Mick,
Beth said, "That's not bad, buddy boy. Except it leaves Mimi sopping wet in the middle of a crowd of a hundred people or so."