by Lee Falk
"You did make some like it?" asked VerPoorten.
"No, no, but I think I know who did," said the young man. "Wait a sec and I'll get you the address out of my files." He started for the curtained doorway.
"I'll come along," offered VerPoorten as he started after him.
Sweeney Todd broke into a run. He sprang behind the curtain. "Go easy," warned Colma.
VerPoorten threw himself against the wall to the left of the doorway. With one hand, he ripped the thick protecting curtain down from the flimsy rod.
Sweeney Todd had a .45 automatic in his hand. He fired it twice, then clattered out the back door of his little office.
VerPoorten tugged out his police special and went through the office after him.
The stocky lieutenant was already going out the front door of the store. The glass chimes tinkled wildly.
Colma jogged toward the alley which sliced between the shop and the building next to it. When he reached the alleys mouth, he saw the big VerPoorten running toward him. "Spot him?"
"Nope."
There were no less than five wooden doors in the brick wall of the alley building. "Any one of those," said Colma, thrusting his .38 back into his belt hol- sler. "He could have ducked through any one of those doors."
"Want to check them all out?"
"Yeah, but I'll bet Sweeney Todd is long gone."
Which proved to be the case.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"It's too bad she missed," said Beth.
"Depends on your point of view," replied the Phantom. It was morning and he had been returned to the cell under the headquarters of the golden arrow gang.
"Mara is not the best shot in our organization," continued the gaunt woman, "but I should think she'd be able to hit a big target like you at such close range."
The Phantom did not answer. Mara had indeed missed him last night on the rain cliifside. He assumed the blonde girl had missed intentionally.
"At least she had enough sense to keep you covered until the rest of us could get to you," said Beth. She was standing, in a military at-ease position, on the rough floor of his prison.
"She's a loyal girl."
"Perhaps. She always had been, until you came along and turned her head. Intruding yourself into our circle."
"You've got it backward," pointed out the Phantom. "It was the pair of you who intruded on me, that night on the train."
Beth asked, "Just who are you anyway?"
"You know that, I'm Walker."
"I mean beyond that, buddy boy. What motivates you, what's your angle?" 'the Phantom grinned at her. "Let's say I'm opposed to cold-blooded murder."
After a snorting laugh, Beth said, "You must be some kind of cop. But I'm damned if I can figure which kind. Are you working for Lt. Colma.
"No," he replied. "Matter of fact, Colma thinks I'm working for you."
"I don't really understand you, or your actions," she said. "If you aren't a cop, why do you go around sticking your nose in things like our little operation?"
"For the same reason you're a thief," the Phantom said. "I do what I believe I have to do."
Beth shook her head. "Now we're getting too philosophical, buddy boy," she said. "So I'll get back to business. I came to inform you I'm finally going to get get my way about you. You'll be kept here today, and this evening... you'll be executed."
"You have an all girl firing squad?"
"It won't be as quick and painless as that, buddy boy. No, you'll...."
"Beth, what are you talking about?" Mara, her face it pale white, pushed into the cell. "What are you telling him?"
"The truth. Only the truth, dear Mara."
"There's been no such decision made," said Mara, looking from the gaunt woman to the Phantom.
'It's been made by me! We've pampered this traitor long enough, more than long enough."
Mara said, "You're only one of the ruling six, Beth. No one has elected you queen. The entire inner circle will decide Walker's fate."
Beth's lips pressed tight together -until all color left them. "No, I won't stand for any more delays. This man must die!" She jabbed a bony hand inside her jacket.
"Beth, what are you? ..."
A .32 revolver snapped into view. "Well settle him right now this minute."
Before Beth could turn the gun on the Phantom, Mara threw both arms around her. The blonde slapped the older woman's hand and the gun fell to the floor.
The Phantom dived, scooping up the fallen weapon. "All right, ladies," he said. "Move over into the far corner, please."
"Walker, what are you doing?" asked Mara. "I'm trying to save your life."
"So am I," he replied.
"You've done brilliantly, Mara," said Beth, slowly crossing the cell.
"You, too, Mara," ordered the Phantom. "Get over there."
"Walker, don't do "
"Drop it, Mr. Walker." Two hefty golden arrow girls stood in the doorway. Each had a pistol aimed at the Phantom. "Drop your gun if you please."
He let it drop.
"You're no match for us," Beth brushed by him, stooped, picked up her weapon and put it away under her jacket. "Very well, Mara. Well let the ruling six vote on him. I think I can predict how the vote will run."
Mara left the cell without saying anything further.
Beth was behind the upright chair in the library, her hands gripping its back. "We can't afford to devote all night to discussing this man Walker. I shouldn't have to point out we have a new operatio scheduled for Thursday night."
"We're talking about a man's life," reminded Mara.
"A traitor's life, a police spy's life," said Beth. "He's not the first traitor we've dealt with. I say we treat him exactly as the others were treated. We drop him in the " "No," said the dark Mimi. "You can't dump Walker into the underground river. I've heard about what you did to those others, before I joined the golden arrow. No, you can't do that to him."
"We've no place for squeamishness in the organization," said the straight-standing Beth. "No place for sentimentality."
"Well, I guess I am a little sentimental about the man who saved my life only last night," said Mimi. "You can't "
Mara cut in, "I'm not sentimental about Walker, Beth."
"Oh, aren't you?" 5 j
"No, not after what he's done. Not after this mom-
Ing"
The other three girls on the board of directors hadn't heard about the struggle for the pistol this morning. They murmured among themselves, puzzled.
"Walker attempted to shoot us both in his cell this morning," Beth explained to them. "That's what dear Mara is alluding to."
"Oh, it wasn't anything like that at all," said Mara. "You were the one who pulled a gun, Beth. Something, I might add, you were in no way authorized to do."
"I don't think," Mimi put forth, "we should kill him. Let's stick to that point."
"Very well," sneered Beth, "There's one vote for him."
Mara said, "Beth, I won't allow him to be executed."
"And what is the alternative?"
"I don't exactly know...."
"Perhaps, dear Mara, you'd like him to live on with us forever and a day," suggested Beth. "Or we might I tu n him into some sort of house pet."
"We don't have to make an immediate decision," said Mimi.
"Exactly," agreed Mara. "There's no harm in his being kept a prisoner awhile longer."
"The man's a threat." Beth produced one of her little cigars. She lit it with an angry poke of a wood match. "Every minute he's here, we're in danger."
'"That's ridiculous. I can't agree with you at all," said Mara.
"Shouldn't we," said Mimi, "table it? So we can get on to planning our next job."
Smoke swirled from Beth's nostrils. "For now, then, I'll allow him to live," she said. "Mara, tell us about the new operation."
Giving a small sigh, the blonde said, "This job will be in Manhattan. We won't need more than four girls. As you know, we've had one of ou
r girls working as a private secretary to Rowland Easton, the celebrated novelist, for several months. Mrs. Easton, not coinci- dently, has one of New York City's larger collections of diamonds. This weekend, the Eastons leave for a year's stay in Europe, and the gems will be deposited in a bank vault. Two nights from tonight, however, Mr. Easton will be home alone, dictating the final chapter of his latest book to our girl."
"Sounds simple enough," said Mimi. "She can incapacitate Easton, then let us in."
"Yes, said Mara. "The diamonds are kept in a safe which opens with a key. It's in the master bedroom of the Eastons' townhouse. He carries a set of keys with him."
"It'll be nice to have an easy one for a change."
Beth frowned. "I don't know," she said. "I have a feeling we're not going to have good luck as long as that man is alive."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The handle on his cell door began to turn quietly.
The Phantom sat up, instantly awake in the dark room.
His jungle trained senses told him it was around 2 A.M. Not the usual hour for a visit Perhaps Beth was returning to carry out her earlier threat.
Silently the Phantom rose to his feet He moved along one wall, aiming for the door.
The door swung slowly outward. The corridor outside was dark, too. Only faint pale blue moonlight illuminated the figure framed in the doorway.
A flashlight clicked on. "Are you asleep?"
"No, Mimi."
The girl started when she heard his voice only a few feet from her. She automatically swung the light toward him. "Well, hello," she said. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."
"I was, until you touched the door."
"You must be a light sleeper." Mimi entered, pulling the door until it was only an inch open. "Me, I can sleep through almost anything. Once when I was. . . ."
"Why the visit?"
"Well, I came to tell you not to worry. I'm sure
nobody's been here since Mara and Beth had their little confrontation over you."
"Nobody except the silent girl who brought my dinner," said the Phantom.
"I think Mara's going to avoid you for a while."
"Until after they shoot me?"
"Her pride's injured," said Mimi. "But what I came to tell you, Walker, is they're not going to kill you. Well, at least not for a while anyway."
The glow of the flashlight made his shadow loom large on the cell wall behind them. "Not for a while, that's some consolation."
"In the board of directors' meeting Mara and I spoke up for you. You know Beth's feelings. We've persuaded her to hold off."
"When Beth was here," he said, "she made a threat about killing me in a painful way, something much worse than shooting. What does she have in mind?"
Mimi inhaled sharply. "Well, Walker, she probably wants to throw you in the underground river. It runs right under one of the other basement rooms."
"That would simply carry me out into the Sound."
"Nope, not the way they do it. They sew you up in a sack, tie you hand and foot, and weigh you down with heavy stones."
The Phantom asked, "They've done this before?"
"Not since I've been here."
"But they've done it?"
"Yes," admitted the dark girl. "To a girl they suspected was planning to sell them out to the authorities. Really, Walker, that was months before I joined the golden circle. I've only heard gossip about it. I had nothing to do with any killing."
Putting his hand on hers, the Phantom said, "You don't sound very enthusiastic about your association with the gang, Mimi."
The girl tried to laugh. "Well, listen, how many
people have a job they really like? All those sad-eyed secretaries who flock to the commuting trains each and every morning. Would you want me to be one of those?"
"There are a good many alternatives. What do you
want?"
"I'm not quite certain anymore," said Mimi. "The past few weeks I've been feeling ... I don't know. Restless. More than that, disgusted I guess is the word. After they killed that old man on the train . . . Mr. Pieters, wasn't that his name? After Pieters I felt very down. I really had nothing to do with it and yet I felt responsible. Yes, and the cops would see it the same way, too, probably."
"Not necessarily."
"Maybe." Her hands were shaking very slightly, causing the flashlight to flicker. "Then you showed up in the picture. Which made things worse for me. I had a feeling you weren't a crook, Walker, right from the lirst I'm still not exactly sure about you. You seem sort of different. . . special." She sighed, lowering her head. "Well, listen, I didn't come here in the middle of the night to have you play therapist or kindly uncle."
"Why did you come?"
"I told you. To give you the good news," she replied. "You'll be kept a prisoner here. Well, that may not be terrific news, but it's a heck of a lot better than a death sentence."
The Phantom was silent for a moment. "I thought perhaps," he said at last, "you'd come to help me get out of here, Mimi."
The girl drew away from him, taking her hand out of his. "No, I didn't, Walker."
"You never even thought of it?"
In a soft faraway voice she said, "I may have thought of helping you escape, I'm not going to do it, though. I like you, Walker, but I don't want to end up in a gunny sack full of rocks."
"That won't happen," the Phantom promised her. "Get me a gun. I'll get both of us out of here safely."
"Both of us?"
"You're ready to quit, aren't you? Isn't that what all this has been leading up to?"
"I don't know, I really don't know," said Mimi. "Anyway, suppose I did try to quit. The cops would only come and find me."
"You could cooperate with them, tell what you know."
"Great, and get three to five years instead of five to ten. No thanks."
"There are many ways to disappear," he said. "The police could come looking and never find you."
"I've got to go now," said Mimi. "We have a new job coming up day after tomorrow. I should rest up for it."
"You're going to be directly involved?"
"Well, as of now I'm supposed to be," she said. "Though I've been thinking about coming down with the flu sometime tomorrow and sitting this one out"
"A good idea."
The girl touched the edge of the cell door, pushed it further open. "I'll think about everything you said. Bye." She was out into the corridor quickly.
The door closed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lt. Colma felt at lie place where the top button of his raincoat should be. "Damn button's; gone again," he said. "My wife hates to sew anything." They were walking into the wind, the gray afternoon rain slapping at them.
"You ought to get these cheap plastic jobs," said the big VerPoorten, indicating his transparent raincoat. "When something goes wrong, you junk it and get yourself a new one."
"Huh," said the stocky policeman. "There's the hotel."
They turned onto West 23rd Street. "Yeah, the Hotel Hobart," said VerPoorten. "This is where our informant says Sweeney Todd is staying."
"Okay, let's go in and find out."
The lobby of the Hobart was small. There was a worn brown rug on the floor, with chairs holding down each of its four corners. None of the chairs matched. A rubber plant was dying in a tan urn next to a 1956- model television set. On the screen a man in a jumpsuit was promising his viewers new vigor if they'd only do what he told them. An old man wearing a black overcoat over a pair of flannel pajamas sat in one of the chairs, squinting at the TV screen. A youth in a poncho and motorcycle pants and boots was
asleep in another, a frail blonde girl with a mock Afro hairdo was sitting on the chair arm.
When Colma came striding across the lobby toward the desk followed by the slower moving VerPoorten, the blonde girl jabbed thin fingers into the sleeping boy's side. He sat up, noticed the police and attempted to put an innocent expression on his puffy face.
The desk clerk had only one arm. The other sleeve of his candy-striped shirt was pinned up with a diaper pin. "Ah, I sense you are lawmen," he said. With his good arm he reached over to pluck a kleenex from the box next to the register. "Don't worry, this isn't a cold. Only an allergic reaction to this dismal lobby." After blowing his nose, enthusiastically, twice, he asked "How may I help you?"
