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Authors: Ellery Queen Jr.

The Yellow Cat Mystery (12 page)

BOOK: The Yellow Cat Mystery
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“He hasn’t had a chance to tell anyone yet,” Hammer said. “Besides he told the other kid they’d get in trouble if they went to the police without proof. That’s what he was trying to get when he came to get the numbers on your boat.”

Pedro’s eyes were suspicious slits as he studied Dr. Hammer. “You jus’ say, ‘Another day and—’ an’ then you stop.” Pedro tapped his own head and said, “You spik as though you theenk, queek, ‘No, I no tell that to Pedro.’ What ees going to happeen in ‘another day’ eef it ees not that you get the monay to buy the beeg, fas’ boat to run aliens from Cuba?”

“Now, listen, Pedro,” Dr. Hammer said, “none of that!” His voice became oily as he went on. “When you told Tony M olendo you were on the lam and needed some place to hide, he sent you to me and told you I was a right guy, didn’t he?”

“Tha’s what he say,” Pedro agreed.

“All right. I took Tony’s word that you were okay and I’ve staked you to keep you from starving,” Dr. Hammer said. “Is that right?”

“That ees right,” Pedro said.

“Well, don’t queer it now, Pedro,” Dr. Hammer went on. “I told you I took that dentist’s office just to cover up until I raise some big dough to buy a fast boat so we can get into your alien-smuggling racket. You sold me on the idea and I like it, Pedro. But I ain’t got anything to work with except a few brains and a few connections like Tony Molendo. It’s going to take time.” Dr. Hammer reached in his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. He looked at it for a moment and then handed it to Pedro. “I’m almost down to rock bottom, but I’ll share what I have with you.”

“That ees fair,” Pedro said as he took the bill and put it in his pocket. “When we get thees fas’ boat I ’ave—what you call it—conneshuns—an’ we make beeg monay running in aliens.”

“Good,” said Dr. Hammer, and he gave Pedro a clap on the back. “In the meantime,” he went on, and smiled, “I’ve got a little deal on, tomorrow—that’s what I meant by another day—that will keep us in dough until we get a real slice. A pal of mine in New York is sending me ten thousand dollars in phony money tomorrow. At least, I’ll have it tomorrow. We’ll take it down to Miami tomorrow night and I can get at least a thousand in real cash for it. That’s five hundred for each of us. You—”

“What you mean, phony monay?” Pedro asked. “Coun’erfeet?”

“That’s it,” Dr. Hammer said. “I’ll have it in the mail tomorrow. And I’ll tell you how I’m going to handle it. I’ll send it over to your boat tomorrow afternoon by a little girl.” Dr. Hammer laughed and said, “The little girl is the daughter of the cashier of the Dolphin Beach Bank, so no one will question her. She’s a pal of mine. She collected some sea shells for me, and I gave her a buck for them. She’s going to bring them to me in a pigskin bag this afternoon, along with her doll. I kidded her along and told her I’d fix her doll’s teeth. She’s coming back after the doll tomorrow afternoon. I’ll give her the pigskin bag with the phony money in it and send her over to deliver it to you at Captain Andy Jackson’s boat yard. I’ll ask her to do that for me as a big favor, before I give her the doll. Then I’ll be along right after she delivers the bag to you and we’ll take the stuff down to Miami by the Inland Waterway in your boat and sell it in Miami. Five hundred smackers each—not so bad, eh?”

“You say you send this leetle girl to me at Cap’n Andy’s?” Pedro asked, and he shook his head violently.

“Why not?” asked Dr. Hammer.

“Because I not be there,” Pedro said. “That other keed that is with thees one—remember?—thees one tol’ him who I am. When thees one deesappear, the other one weel tell what thees one tell him. The Border Patrol weel know where to look for me. You send thees leetle girl weeth the bag of phony monay to someboddee else. Then you come over an’ pick eet up an’ I take you to Miami.”

Dr. Hammer’s eyes narrowed and after he had thought for a few moments he said, “I guess you’ve got something there, Pedro.” Then he looked startled and said, “What about your boat? Won’t they be looking for that, too?”

“No,” Pedro said and for an instant his teeth flashed in a cunning smile. “When she ees called
El Gato Amarillo
she ees a sailboat—a catboat. Only powerboats ’ave to be registered. I take out the mast an’ put in an engine and change the name to
El Gato
weethout thee
Amarillo
an’ I tell them the owner is one Diego Perez. Then they geeve me the registration numbers. But when I come to you an’ Cap’n Andy’s I change the numbers and change the name to
My Goat
, an’ I take the name of Pedro Marteeno.
Saber

Dr. Hammer laughed and said, “I
sabe
. That ought to mix ’em up a little. But I think you better get rid of that boat after you get the five hundred bucks in Miami tomorrow night. Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll have the little girl bring the bag over to Captain Andy’s and have her give it to Captain Andy personally. No one else. No one will suspect him and, naturally, I’ll lock the bag up so that neither he, nor the girl, can get in it. I’ll pick up the bag soon after she leaves it with Captain Andy and bring it up to that first dock north of Captain Andy’s boat yard. When it’s dark you can row over from here in that old rowboat out at the dock and pick me up and bring me back here. Then we can slip down to Miami. Okay?”

“That, she is better,” Pedro said. “What we do weeth heem?” he added, pointing at Djuna again.

“Tomorrow morning, before daylight,” Dr. Hammer told him, “I want you to take your boat out through the inlet, out at least three miles, and get rid of him. You know how to do it—same way you got rid of those three Chinese you told me about when the Coast Guard was on your trail.”

“I don like,” Pedro said.

“I don’t care what you like!” Dr. Hammer shouted, at the end of his patience. “You do what I say or you get no part of that thousand tomorrow night. Do you understand?”

“I un’erstan’,” said Pedro, and he shrugged.

“I want you to fix him so he’ll go down and
stay
down. Do you understand that, too?” Hammer asked viciously.

“I un’erstan’,” Pedro said.

“Okay then. You’ve got to run me back to Dolphin Beach now,” Dr. Hammer said in a matter-of-fact voice. “I’ve got to get back to my office to get the bag of shells and the doll from that little brat. You’ll be safe enough for another few hours.”

“That ees all right,” Pedro said.

Dr. Hammer started to go out the door of the shack. Just before he reached it he came back and bent over Djuna. He rolled him over on his stomach and examined the ropes that secured him. Satisfied, he stood erect and motioned to Pedro that he was ready to go.

Djuna heard the engine of Pedro’s boat come to life and then roar to an accelerated crescendo before it began to fade away and die in the distance.

Finally, there was only the whine of the cold north wind and the hammering of rain on the roof of the old shack to keep him company. His arms and legs were numb now. His whole body was numb and cold and he didn’t try to keep back the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. The memory of Miss Annie’s cozy little house in Edenboro kept marching through his mind and the tears rolled faster as he thought only that he would never see it again.

Later on, as night settled over the little hut. he became calmer, and to salve his anguish he began to go over the things that Pedro and Dr. Hammer had said while they were there, and the other things that had happened during the short two days he had been in Dolphin Beach. After a while, in spite of his pain and discomfort, all the things he had observed and heard began to form a pattern. The icy terror that had been with him began to leave him as he tried to plan a way to save his own life. He knew that he had no one, this time, to depend on but himself, because no one could find him in this isolated shack on some little island along the Inland Waterway. It would take days to find him and he didn’t have days. He had only the few short hours before daylight.

The wind had died as darkness dropped over the old shack and only the night noises of the jungle came to him. Now and again a siren would scream three times at the bridge across the Inland Waterway, and once or twice the hideous, bloodcurdling scream of a wildcat reached his ears.

Finally, the sleep of exhaustion came to him, along with a nightmare dream.

Chapter Eight
The Yellow Cat Snarls

D
JUNA
tried to shrink away from the hand that kept shaking him and the mocking voice that kept saying, “C’mon, keed, wake up! We ’ave a beeg date!” His whole body was as numb as his mind and yet they were both racked by excruciating pain. He tried, in his mind, to run away from the hand that was shaking him and from the voice. He almost succeeded in his desperate mental efforts to elude them, but just when he was about to drift off into the oblivion of escape that was sleep, they would be there again.

“C’mon, keed, wake up! You don’ wanna be late for your sweem!” the voice mocked in his ear.

He opened his eyes and could see only a dim blur around him. There was a light flickering across the room and as he tried to focus his eyes on it he saw moths and bugs weaving around the light in erratic flights, flights as erratic as the thoughts he tried to put together. He closed his eyes again as the shaking stopped and the voice grew still. He pushed his tongue forward to lick his feverish lips but his tongue couldn’t reach his lips. There was a barrier in his mouth and as he tried to struggle away the hand was there shaking him again and the voice was saying, “C’mon, keed, an’ get your sweem. A nice beeg sweem—”

And then it came to him! It all came in an agonizing flash, as though he had opened the door of Miss Annie’s coal furnace in the cellar of her home at Edenboro before the coal gas had burned off, as he had once done, and the oxygen had exploded the gas, to sear his face and burn his eyebrows.

Suddenly, he knew what the voice was talking about and to whom the voice belonged. It was Pedro, the Yellow Cat, and he was rousing him to take him out beyond the three-mile limit and dump him overboard … as he had once dumped three helpless Chinese overboard when the Coast Guard was hot on his trail.

Djuna was conscious now but involuntarily he tried to run away again. He tried to spring up, but the effort brought a scream to his lips as his tortured body protested to his mind. He stifled the scream and then he tried to stifle the sobs that followed it.

Then Pedro’s face became real before his eyes as he loosened the gag in Djuna’s mouth and threw it across the room. He felt Pedro’s arms under his armpits as Pedro lifted him up and dragged his weight across the dimly lit room to a chair beside the table.

“Here, keed,” Pedro said in a moment, after he had released Djuna’s hands from the cruelly tight bonds that bound them together. “Here ees cup o’ coff’.” His voice was almost kindly now, instead of mocking.

Djuna tried to speak, but the effort brought pain to his face and no word came from his lips. Pedro’s face was a dim blur as he felt the edge of a cup being held to his lips and Pedro said, “Take a seep, keed; it bring you roun’.”

Djuna sipped and the coffee burned like lye as he forced it down his throat. For a moment he thought he was going to be violently sick and then it warmed his stomach and he took another sip as Pedro talked to him. Some of the words he could understand but most of them were only a jumble in his mind as he tried to get his own thoughts assembled.

In the back of Djuna’s mind there was something urging and prompting him. It was urging him to think and trying to prompt him in what he ought to say. He remembered, faintly, that last scene before Dr. Hammer went away, when Hammer told Pedro what he must do with Djuna before daylight.

Then the things that he had figured out about Pedro and Dr. Hammer began to sift into his mind. He remembered that his own life depended on whether or not he could convince Pedro that those things were true.

He began to flex his fingers as Pedro continued to hold the cup of coffee to his lips and jabbered at him in a combination of Spanish and English.

He could hear birds awakening in the false dawn outside and hear fish jumping in the lagoon in front of the ramshackle hut where he was sitting, and the low whine of the cold northwest wind as it again began to rattle the palm fronds around the shack. He took a deep breath and tried to speak again, but still no words would come to his lips. There was only a hoarse croaking in his throat. But this time Pedro said, “You be okay in a meenute, keed.”

Okay to be drowned, Djuna thought; and then he tried to assemble his thoughts again, to bring back to memory the desperate hope which had come to him the night before—the one and only chance that might possibly save his own life.

After he had finished the cup of coffee he worked his mouth back and forth at the same time he flexed his fingers. At first the pain was terrific and then it began to fade as circulation came back and he began to feel like a living person. The next time he tried to speak, actual words came from his mouth. At first they didn’t sound like his own, but Pedro seemed to understand them.

“Is Dr. Hammer here, Pedro?” he had said.

“No,” Pedro answered and his voice was mocking again. “Dr. Hammer not here. Why? You theenk he ees nice fellah, yes? You want to see Dr. Hammer?”

Djuna shuddered and closed his eyes. “No! I don’t want ever to see him again; and you wouldn’t either, if you knew what he is going to do to
you,”
Djuna told him.

“What you mean?” Pedro asked as he stood in front of Djuna with his feet wide spread and his hands on his hips. In the dim light, standing as he was, Pedro, with his swarthy complexion and dirty clothes, looked like a buccaneer of the old Spanish Main.

“He is going to double-cross you,” Djuna said.

“He ees going to geeve me five hun’red dollars tonight,” Pedro said confidently.

“Five hundred dollars!” Djuna scoffed. “Do you know how much more he is going to keep for himself?”

“He get five hun’red and I get five hun’red,” Pedro said.

“Look,” Djuna said desperately, “he’s going to rob the Dolphin Beach Bank today! He told you he took the old dentist’s office so he would have a cover and a front while he raised the money to buy you a boat for smuggling. He was lying. He rented it so that he could cut down through the old concrete and steel vault just below his office and get a fortune.”

BOOK: The Yellow Cat Mystery
4.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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