by W E Johns
‘You’d better think better than that,’ said Ritzy, savagely.
‘What’s all the fuss about, anyway?’ asked Ginger. ‘Why are you so anxious to have the car? We hired it in good faith. I’ve no doubt my friend will pay for it when he comes back.’
‘Where’s he gone?’
‘How would I know? I spent the night out there in the desert. I lost my way. I lost the car. I only found my way back to the road because I saw this car on it. I had to walk back to Eltora. That old man saw me. When I got there my friend had gone. That’s all I know. You can please yourselves whether you believe it or not.’
The men in the car exchanged glances as if they were inclined to think Ginger might be telling the truth. He had spoken firmly, as if he meant every word he had said — as indeed he did.
Ritzy spoke in a different tone of voice. ‘I’m very attached to that particular car and I’d be very sorry to lose it.’
‘In that case I’ll do my best to help you to find it,’ returned Ginger. ‘I must admit it’s your car. But even if we locate it I’m afraid you’ll find it in pretty poor shape. It got knocked about a bit in the dark, and as I told you, it finished up by getting waterlogged. When the water went down it was up to the chassis in sand.’
‘Where do you reckon you left the road?’
‘As near as I can judge it would be three or four miles farther on. There’s a bit of a depression, a dry wash. We stuck in the sand there on the way out.’
The car went on in silence.
‘I’m not sure, but I think this must be the place,’ said Ginger, when he came to the spot he had indicated.
‘Let us get out and look,’ said Schultz. ‘Take the car off the road in case someone comes along,’ he told the driver. ‘We don’t want anyone to see it.’
The car was driven a short distance from the road and parked out of sight behind a mass of prickly pear. As this was done Ginger looked down the road with a wild hope that he might see Biggles coming back, for that, he felt sure, was what he would do when he learned that the Overland had not crossed the border. Knowing a register was kept there he would be certain to make inquiries. His fear was that José’s brake would take the short cuts mentioned by Juan, in which case it would again go past without seeing him. Actually, although he didn’t know it, which was as well for his peace of mind, this is what did happen. He consoled himself with the thought that Biggles must know by now that if he hadn’t reached Sonoyta he must be at some intermediate point.
They all got out of the car. The sun was now sinking in the west, but the heat was probably at its worst, being flung off by everything that had absorbed it at high noon.
‘Now, which way?’ demanded Ritzy. ‘Get a move on. We shall get sunstroke if we stand here.’
‘I'm pretty sure I left the track on the left hand side,’ said Ginger who, in all innocence, was seriously trying to find the lost car and so put an end to the whole tiresome business.
Leaving the car as it stood the whole party, looking around, moved slowly into the chaparral. But Ginger was completely at a loss, and presently had to admit that he hadn’t the faintest idea of where he was or which way to go.
Schultz scowled. ‘Are you trying to fool us?’
‘Of course not,’ protested Ginger. ‘Why should I? I’m as anxious to find the car as you are. I thought there was a chance we might see wheel marks in the sand, but I can only imagine they must have been washed out by the rain. It came down in buckets.’
‘This is no use,’ muttered Schultz after a time. ‘We could go on for weeks at this rate without finding it.’ He was sweating profusely. ‘This young fool knows nothing. We might as well get rid of him and go back to Eltora. No one would find him here. We could come back in the early morning when it won’t be as hot as this.’
For the first time Ginger realized the dangerous position he was in. Schultz wasn’t bluffing. He had spoken casually, but obviously meant every word he said.
But this cold-blooded suggestion did not meet with Ritzy’s approval, although it was evident that he was thinking of himself, not of Ginger. ‘I can’t go back to Eltora, you know that,’ he objected. ‘You do what you like. Shoot this snooper if you feel like it, but I’m not aiming to spend the rest of my life in a Mexican gaol.’
The word snooper gave Ginger a shock. In what sense had it been used? Was it to be taken literally? Could it mean that Ritzy knew who he was; had known all along what he and Biggles were doing in Eltora? No, he decided. That wasn’t possible.
He could well understand Ritzy’s reluctance to return to Eltora, or go anywhere near it. The shooting of Cornelli was one thing. His escape, and the death of a Mexican policeman was another. He could also appreciate Schultz’s disinclination to wander about the mesa in the suffocating heat on the off-chance of coming upon the missing car. He had noticed a distant object and decided his best plan was to play for time. Delaying tactics might not serve any useful purpose in the long run, but they would postpone what he could see was on the way.
He pointed. ‘See that butte?'
‘What about it?’
There’s a stick on the top of it, with a piece of what looks like white rag.’
‘Well?’
‘That’s my handkerchief. I put it there this morning to mark that particular spot because there’s a pool of rainwater at the bottom of it. I was desperate for water at the time. The car can’t be far from that butte. From the top I could see the arroyo — or I thought I could although I couldn’t swear it’s the one the car’s in.’
‘You didn’t go back to it?’
‘No. I spotted your Cadillac and ran hoping to intercept it, but you were going too fast for me.’
‘You think it’s worth walking over to this arroyo?’
‘I do.’
‘Then let us go,’ said Schultz. ‘If we can finish this business tonight so much the better.’
‘We shall have to go to the butte first to mark the right direction,’ advised Ginger. ‘It’s easy to get lost in this stuff as I discovered this morning, but from my flag there should be no risk of that.’
They set off towards the landmark.
CHAPTER 14
EXIT RITZY
As they picked their way through the irregular patches of desert vegetation the sound of an aircraft in the distance reached Ginger’s ears. Presently he could see it, a speck above the northern skyline. He watched it, as well as he was able to, purely as a matter of casual interest, wondering vaguely what it was doing. He made it out to be flying up and down as if on a photographic reconnaissance, but came to the conclusion it was on a routine boundary patrol, possibly checking the border fence. That it might in some way be concerned with him, personally, was a thought that did not for an instant occur to him.
They reached the butte. Ginger revealed the position of the water and they all took a drink. Said Ritzy, looking at the horizon: ‘What’s that plane doing?’
‘What does it matter?’ answered Schultz. ‘It has nothing to do with us. Let us get on, or we shall still be here when the sun goes down.’
Ritzy himself, either not trusting Ginger or being over-eager, went himself to the top of the rock. ‘There it is,’ he shouted down, pointing.
‘Can you see the car?’ called Schultz.
‘No, but I can see what looks like an arroyo. It’s the only one. That must be it.’ He came scrambling down. ‘It isn’t ten minutes’ walk away,’ he said.
The party again moved off, now in the direction indicated.
Ritzy wasn’t far out in the matter of distance, but they struck the gully at a point where the sides were almost sheer.
‘It couldn’t have been here or I would have been knocked out in the crash,’ Ginger pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily.
With one accord they walked along the rim of the arroyo towards the nearest point where the sheer face broke down to a rather steep slope; and there at the bottom, embedded in sand, was the car.
‘Goot,’
said Schultz, with deep satisfaction.
Footsteps quickened, and reaching the point opposite the car they all slid down the loose sand to the bottom.
Ginger was thinking how lucky he was that the car had not overturned when it had gone over the edge, for if it had he would probably have been drowned in the flood, when Schultz made a remark that put all such ideas out of his head. Understanding burst upon him. The anxiety to find the car was explained.
‘Okay,’ said Schultz, speaking to Ritzy. ‘Get the stones. Don’t waste time.’
Ginger could have kicked himself, as the saying is. So that was it, he thought bitterly. The diamonds had been in the car all the time. And he had helped the crooks to find it. What a fool he had been! What a fool! He should have guessed.
Ritzy spoke, and again the words brought enlightenment. ‘Not so fast,’ he said suspiciously. ‘What about paying for ‘em?’
From this it was clear that Schultz still had the money. The transaction had not been completed.
‘I’ll pay for the stones when I’ve seen them,’ said Schultz, not unreasonably, Ginger thought.
‘What guarantee have I you’ll pay a fair price?’
‘You’ll take what I offer, or maybe you get nothing,’ stated Schultz, with an edge to his voice. ‘Fetch the stones.’
Ritzy hesitated. It was clear to Ginger that he was not at all happy about the position in which he now found himself. He was one against three; and they were not in Eltora; they were in the desert, where either side, playing false, would find it easy to get away with murder.
Ginger could smell trouble brewing. From what he knew of Schultz he was the sort of man who would think nothing of keeping the diamonds and the money. There appeared to be nothing to prevent him from doing that. Ritzy must have realized it too.
Far away the plane was still circling, but no one seemed to notice it. Without interest Ginger identified it as an American Piper Cub.
‘What do you call a fair price?’ asked Ritzy. ‘You know what the stuff is worth. The stones were valued at—’
‘I know what they’re worth for insurance purposes,’ broke in Schultz impatiently, ‘Remember, I have to take risks of losing the lot getting them through Customs.’
‘I thought you’d try to cut the price by raising that argument. How do I know you’ve got the money?’
‘I have the money,’ answered Schultz, speaking in the dangerously low voice of a man trying to keep his temper.
‘Let’s see the colour of it,’ demanded Ritzy — foolishly, Ginger thought, seeing how things were going. He was pressing Schultz too hard.
Schultz drew a deep breath, but he kept himself in hand.
‘He wants to see the money, Karl; show it to him,’ he said to the man carrying the portfolio.
The man opened the bag to reveal wads of notes. American dollar bills.
Still Ritzy hesitated.
Schultz looked at him with half closed eyes. ‘Why need I pay anything?’ he said softly.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I hold the cards, Brabinsky, and it’s time you realized it.’ As he finished speaking Schultz made a sign to his assistants.
Automatics appeared in their hands.
‘Now do you see,’ said Schultz, succinctly.
Ritzy’s face paled. He must have seen, as plainly as Ginger could see, how matters stood. He must have realized, too, that once he divulged the hiding place of the diamonds he would have lost the game by parting with his only trump card.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said. ‘You don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. Give me a hundred thousand dollars. Then let me get to the top of the bank and I’ll shout and tell you where the stones are,’ he suggested.
But Schultz was not having this, which did not surprise Ginger, for it was plain that once he was out of range of the pistols there would be nothing to prevent Ritzy from bolting into the chaparral where there would be small chance of finding him. He would take his secret with him, of course.
‘Perhaps you think we couldn’t find the stones without your help,’ sneered Schultz.
‘You’d have a job,’ retorted Ritzy.
‘If necessary I could pull the car to pieces.’
‘Okay: if that’s how you feel, go ahead. You’d better get started. It’ll be dark before you’re finished.’ Ritzy sat on a hummock of sand and lit a cigarette.
He was still holding his trump card. Ginger wondered how long it would last.
Schultz set about carrying out his threat. He himself took no actual part in the search but stood near Ritzy, covering him with a pistol, while his two assistants set about ransacking the car. They failed to find the gems, which did not surprise Ginger in the least, for had they been easy to find Ritzy would not have been so confident.
The men thoroughly examined the boot. They looked under the engine cowling. They then set about the seats, cutting the cushions with knives and tearing out the stuffing. They got out the tools and ripped up the floorboards.
‘Keep going,’ scoffed Ritzy. ‘You’re so smart.’
In twenty minutes the wreck of the car was complete, and the searchers, baffled, desisted.
With what morbid fascination Ginger watched this incredible game being played out can be better imagined than described. All he could think was, what fools men were when their dominant characteristic was greed. There was plenty of money for both of them, yet they were not satisfied. Each wanted the lot. He had a suspicion that Schultz never had the slightest intention of parting with the money he had brought. He might hand over the diamonds to the people who had financed him, saying he had paid for them, having kept the money and put it in a safe place. He had once made such a suggestion to von Stalhein, Ginger recalled, for Biggles had told him about that operation.
Ginger did, of course, more than once consider making a bolt for it, but there were two reasons against that. Firstly, while Schultz appeared to be taking no notice of him he knew he was being watched, and while he was scrambling up the loose sandy bank of the arroyo he would be an easy mark. Secondly, he thought he ought to see the end of the affair, to learn who finally got the diamonds. When that was settled would be the time to attempt an escape. He glanced up. The plane was nearer now, still circling.
Schultz’s patience came suddenly to an end. He lost his temper, not noisily, with shouting, but with what was more menacing, a deadly calm. At a distance of two yards he pointed the pistol at Ritzy’s head. ‘We’ve wasted enough time,’ he said softly. ‘You have one minute to produce the diamonds. If you fail to do so I shall shoot you dead and then take my time cutting the car to pieces. I don’t mind if it takes a month. I shall find the diamonds.’
Ritzy knew his time had come. He knew that Schultz meant what he said. Ginger knew it. They all knew it.
‘Okay,’ muttered Ritzy. ‘They’re in the tyre.’
‘Which one?'
The front right hand side.’
The men went to work. Before they could get to the tyre they had to dig the sand away from it, and having no tool but their hands there was a good deal of cursing as they pricked their fingers on stray cactus needles. However, they got the wheel clear and then took it off. They then proceeded, not without difficulty, to cut the tyre open with their knives. This produced nothing so they slashed the tube to ribbons. This produced nothing, either.
Schultz nearly choked.
As for Ritzy, he was either genuinely astonished or else he was a remarkably good actor, thought Ginger.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Ritzy, getting up to look. ‘I could have sworn I put ‘em in that tyre. But I must have made a mistake. It must have been the other one.’
‘How were they put in?’ asked Schultz.
‘I took the outer cover off and fastened the packets to the inside with adhesive tape. That’s how I got ‘em across the border through Customs. They couldn’t move. The inner tube would hold ‘em in place even if the tape came unstuck.’
By t
his time the men were working on the other front wheel. They scooped away the sand as before, removed the wheel and cut open the tyre. There was nothing in it.
‘Are you sure you didn’t put them in one of the back wheels?’ asked Schultz, with venomous sarcasm.
Ritzy looked nonplussed. ‘I couldn’t have made a mistake like that. Of course, it’s some time since I put ‘em in, but I could have sworn it was that offside front wheel.’
‘Are you sure the diamonds are here at all?’ asked Schultz, in a thin voice. He was white to the lips with suppressed fury.
‘Use your head,’ growled Ritzy. ‘Would I be such a fool as to waste my time traipsing about this blistering desert looking for the car if the diamonds weren’t in it? Don’t forget I’ve a better reason than you for wanting to get out of this country in a hurry.’
This argument made sense, or so it seemed to Ginger, and apparently, also, to Schultz, for he gave orders for the back tyres to be taken off. Ritzy now helped with the work, which at least lent colour to his statement. He would hardly show enthusiasm for a task which he knew was futile, pondered Ginger.
Again he looked up. The plane was still flying up and down, to and fro across the road, always getting nearer. The hum of its engine was constantly in his ears.
‘What’s that plane doing?’ asked Ritzy, once.
‘Never mind the plane,’ returned Schultz, tersely. ‘It has nothing to do with us. How could it? Get on with the job.’
‘I thought it might be looking for me, that’s all,’ muttered Ritzy. ‘If the pilot spots the car standing near the road he may wonder what it’s doing there.’
‘Let him wonder. There’s nowhere near he can land to find out.’
The work continued in the lurid orange glow of a sun nearly resting on the horizon.
Presently Ritzy said: ‘If the stones aren’t in either of these tyres they must be in the spare wheel.’
‘Der Teufel! You’d know if you’d put them in the spare, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yes, but my friends used this car as well as me, don’t forget,’ answered Ritzy, removing a thorn from a bleeding finger. ‘One of ‘em might have had a puncture and changed over without saying anything to me about it.’
