The Veiled Lady

by Lee Falk

  Slowly the JP commander returned to his jeep. With one foot in the machine, he stopped to watch the girl board the helicopter. "Sergeant," he said.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "What did Gabe say was wrong with Orlando?"

  "His appendix, sir."

  The colonel dug the stem of his pipe into his chin. "At the back of my mind, that doesn't quite ring true."

  "How come?"

  Colonel Weeks frowned and shook his head. "I can't tell you why," he said. "But I have an idea Corporal Gillis might know."

  Everyone was aboard the silver-and-blue copter now. Its rotor was commencing to turn slowly, snapping at the air.

  "When we get back to headquarters," said the colonel, "tell Gills I want to talk to him."

  "You think there's something fishy going on?"

  A popping sound grew out of the airship. It swayed, blowing dust. As the rotor became invisible, the copter rose straight up into the morning.

  His hand shading his eyes, Colonel Weeks said, "No, probably not. Well, let's get back to headquarters and the radio room. I want to keep in touch with the doctor." He lowered himself into

  13

  the jeep seat.

  The copter was high above them now. It swung toward the south, toward .

  Barber nearly filled the little washroom at the rear of his office. He had his soft, slack face near a wall mirror, and was scraping a safety razor over his lathered cheeks. 'Well?" he said out to Tinn.

  The weary-looking Chinese was settling into a canvas butterfly chair. "Somebody send you flowers?"

  "It's my shaving lotion," said the fat proprietor of the Scarlet Cockatoo. "Did they leave on schedule?"

  Tinn tapped his wristwatch. "Right on schedule," he said. "I watched the actual takeoff from the brush behind the field."

  "Couldn't you use the office?"

  "I didn't want Colonel Weeks to notice me," answered Tinn, slouching further into the wing chair.

  "Ouch." A speck of blood showed in the white foam on Barber's left cheek. "What was Colonel Weeks doing at the field?"

  "Came to see the girl and her associate off, I assume," said Tinn. "He didn't seem to be upset about anything, although he looked at Gabe funny for a minute there."

  Barber held a hot washcloth against his flabby cheek. "We needn't worry about Weeks. He'll be staying here in Mawitaan behind a desk." He dropped the cloth into the basin, and returned to his shaving. "No, things are going quite well. I'm certain Dr. Love knows what's down in that volcano.

  All this bull about biological wonders is nothing more than a clever cover story, something to fool feeble-minded bureaucrats like Colonel Weeks." He finished shaving, and washed his face. "And what Doctor Love finds will become ours. Yes, things are going very well indeed."

  The tired-looking Chinese rubbed a thumb over an insect bite on his wrist. "What about the Phantom?"

  "What?" When Barber sat down in his desk chair, all his pores seemed to sigh.

  "Do you think Doctor Love will fool the Phantom, too? Do you think she'll be able to haul the-?"

  "Look." Barber grabbed a map from his desktop. "This is a map of Bangalla. You'll notice one thing immediately: Bangalla is a big place, mostly wilds and unexplored jungles and forests. I don't care what simple natives may say about the Phantom. That's only a superstition. Even if he existed, there's no way one man can know everything going on around here. Forget the Phantom myth-relax."

  Slumped in his chair, Tinn said, "I am relaxed. I merely brought up the topic of the Phantom because.

  "Enough of him." Barber spread the map out and poked at a specific spot with a white pudgy finger.

  "This is Llongo country."

  "Yes," said Tinn. "So?"

  "The Llongo tribe lives very close to ," continued Barber. "You'll be dropped near 14

  there this afternoon. You'll join the men I've already got posted in that area. They're lying low in a rundown outpost town. Contact them, then communicate with me. I want to be sure nobody else goes into that volcano-goes in or comes out. And, of course, I want to be notified as soon as there's any word from inside about

  "I'm an urban person," complained Thin. "I don't feel good about the idea of going into the jungle."

  Barber scowled at him. "Nevertheless, you will go."

  "Yes," answered Tinn.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Below them now, there was nothing but a matted mass, a thick green tangle stretching out in the afternoon sun. From up in the copter the jungle seemed completely still and silent, a vast patchwork of greens and scarlets and yellows, striped with great bands of deep shadow.

  Gradually, the bright colors of leaves and vines and flowers began to blur. Wisps of fine mist were drifting out over the treetops, twisting among the branches.

  "There's your famous lady," said Gabe from the pilot's seat. "Coming up ahead."

  Jan nodded, not saying anything. She glanced back at Karl, and smiled quietly.

  The light of the afternoon grew thinner and hazier. Before them loomed the giant Veiled Lady, her summit shrouded in thick swirls of mist.

  The copter rose up, leaving the blurred jungle further below, moving closer to the hollow peak of the ancient volcano.

  Jan reached out a slender hand for the radio mike. In a moment, she'd made contact with Jungle Patrol headquarters and Colonel Weeks. "Jan Love here, Colonel Weeks. We're nearly there."

  "Listen, Doctor Love," said the colonel, "it's still not too late to turn back." The radio speaker gave his voice a faintly metallic ring. "I really don't think-"

  "Colonel, you must know by this time, I have a distinct stubborn streak," cut in Jan. "I wouldn't stop now for anything. Do you read me? Over."

  After a few seconds of silence, the JP commander answered,"Yes. We read you loud and clear, Doctor Love. We've got our tape recorder rolling, so you can start describing what you see as you descend. Over."

  "Don't be so glum, Colonel," said Jan. "You sound like you're standing by to record my last words.

  Over."

  "I sincerely hope not. Over."

  The jungle had vanished now. There was nothing but thick mist all around their ship.

  "Instruments, do your stuff," grinned Gabe, patting the control panel.

  The helicopter began swinging gently from side to side, as though it were a pendulum held by a giant

  15

  hand. The chopping sound of the propeller blades was muffled.

  "Hang on, everybody," said Gabe. "I think we're going in.

  "Doctor Love, Doctor Love," came the voice of Colonel Weeks. "Are you all right? Please answer.

  Over."

  "Yes, Colonel," replied Jan into the mike, "we're fine. We've just begun our descent into . I can't give you much of an idea yet about the old girl since the scenery so far consists of nothing but fog, mist, and more fog."

  Gabe began whistling the Gershwin song about a foggy day in London. He was still grinning, but a fine film of perspiration had formed on his forehead.

  "We're continuing to drop," Jan went on. "Still nothing much to see. The fog and mist have been joined by steam."

  In his seat, to the rear of Jan, Karl was frowning out at the surrounding whiteness."That's funny," he said.

  Jan glanced back. "What is it,Karl?"

  Karl narrowed his left eye, then shook his head. "Oh, probably nothing. I thought I caught a glimpse of something strange off in the mist there. Must have been the light from above playing optical tricks."

  "Doctor Love, Doctor Love," sounded the metallic voice of the colonel. "Is everything okay with you? Over."

  "Yes, Colonel," answered the girl biologist. "No bogey men have grabbed us yet. We're still dropping down. Can't see a dam thing and we're relying on our radar to avoid hitting the sides."

  "Good thing you didn't tell him you were relying on me," said Gabe. "It would really scare him."

  "The steam is spewing up all around us," said Jan to the distant Colonel Weeks, "The whole experien
ce so far is something like riding an elevator through a sauna bath. We've now descended to about-"

  "Eight thousand feet," supplied Gabe.

  "Eight thousand feet," Jan told the colonel. "Which means we're now somewhat lower than the floor level of the jungle outside."

  Gabe said, "Instruments indicate we're within one hundred feet of the bottom."

  "We'renearly at the bottom of the volcano, Colonel."

  Behind the girl, Karl said, "Jan, look, over there. I'm not wrong about it this time."

  "Something big is moving toward our copter," Jan told the radio. "Just below us, moving fast. Good gosh, I can see it now!Why, it's a giant b-!"

  Colonel Weeks was leaning close to the radio speaker in the Jungle Patrol radio room.

  16

  From out of the radio came an enormous, rending, smashing sound. Then there was an angry metallic sputtering, followed by dead silence.

  "Doctor Love, Doctor Love! What's happened? Over."

  Only silence answered him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Colonel Weeks's big hand clutched the shoulder of the Jungle Patrol radioman. "Keep trying," he said.

  Five long minutes had passed since Doctor Jan Love's voice had abruptly ceased coming to them.

  Outside the afternoon was waning, the heat of the day diminishing.

  "Doctor Love, Jungle Patrol calling," said the freckled young radio operator. "Jungle Patrol calling Doctor Love. Come in, please."

  Only more silence.

  "No contact, sir. Their radio's dead."

  The gray-haired colonel winced slightly at that last word. Then nodding his head, he moved to a phone. "Sergeant Barnum?" he said when his aid answered,

  "Yes, sir," replied Barnum. "I was about to drop over there to the radio shack and find out how Doe Love is doing. Have you-?"

  "I want a Patrol copter sent out to at once," ordered Colonel Weeks. "Alert Sandy and Smythe at our Llongo-country base. I want them to fly over that volcano."

  "Sir," said the sergeant, "is there something wrong?"

  "That's what I'm hoping Sandy and Smythe can findout," replied the commander. "Their orders are to fly over and observe. Under no circumstances are they to go into the volcano."

  "Did Doe Love crash or what?"

  "At this point we don't know, Sergeant."

  "Could it have anything to do with Gabe McClennan?" asked Sergeant Barnum. "I just found out something funny from Corporal Gillis."

  The colonel had his eyes on the radio, but he turned back to the phone as he asked, "What did he say?"

  'Well, about a year or so ago there was a traffic tie-up out near where Fred Orlando, that other copter pilot, lives," said Barnum. "And his wife called us to rush a JP ambulance through the jam and take Orlando to the hospital. Corporal Gillis was in charge of the detail. Seems a milk wagon tipped over on the-"

  "What was wrong with Orlando?"

  17

  "Appendicitis," answered Sergeant Barnum.

  "Damn it!" said the colonel, bringing one fist slamming down. "So either he or Gabe was lying this morning. If only I'd known in time to ask him about it over the radio!"

  "Can't you ask now?"

  "I wish I could." The colonel hung up, and crossed the room to stand behind the radioman.

  "Anything?"

  "Absolutely nothing, sir."

  'Well, keep trying," said the colonel. "They may simply have had some minor problem with their radio."

  "Didn't sound like that, sir. The way that girl shouted sounded to me like-"

  "Keep trying," repeated Colonel Weeks. He began a nervous pacing. "What did she run into? 'Why, it's a gigantic b-l' was the last thing she said. Damn, what did that b stand for?"

  "Bird?" suggested the radioman. "Or maybe bull, if they were near the ground."

  "Not something that starts with a b," said the colonel with a snort. "Something that starts with a b sound. Like...beast, behemoth..."

  The radioman shrugged. "I give up."

  "Well, I'll be in my office," said Colonel Weeks. "Let me know as soon as you make contact."

  "Yes, sir," said the freckled young man. "Jungle Patrol calling Doctor Love ~. Jungle Patrol calling Doctor Love..."

  The commander walked out into the dying day.

  Far from the Jungle Patrol headquarters and the port city of Mawitaan lie the Deep Woods, Modem civilization has been unable, or perhaps unwilling, to penetrate the Deep Woods and so it remains an untamed and mysterious place, filled with wild, strange, and secret things.

  In the heart of the Deep Woods is a great cave gnawed into a high, gray cliffside. The jagged mouth of the cave looks, to the relatively few who have seen it, like nothing so much as an enormous skull.

  As the day ended, other ears listened to the anxious voice of the young radio operator.

  "Doctor Love, come in please . Jungle Patrol calling. Over,"

  The young voice echoed inside the shadowy Skull Cave, bouncing from the cave walls.

  To one side of the vast cave a dais rose and atop this dais was a stone throne. The skull motif was repeated here; a grinning skeleton head had been roughly carved out of the stone.

  Sitting casually on this formidable throne was a broad-shouldered, magnificently muscled man who seemed to be no older than thirty. He was masked and wore a skintight costume with a death's head 18

  grinning from the buckle of his gunbelt. The fingers of his powerful right hand were steepled on his crossed knee. As he listened he raised the fingers from his knee and moved them to pat one of the holsters at his side.

  Stretched out at the masked man's feet was a handsome animal that resembled a German Shepherd.

  Actually, it was a mountain wolf. When the man touched his holster, the animal pricked his ears, looking up at his master's face.

  Standing up, the masked man left the dais and moved closer to the powerful radio set which kept him in contact with Jungle Patrol headquarters. The big wolf rose to follow him, making a gentle rumbling sound in its chest.

  "I don't think it's any use," said the far-away radio operator to himself. "No use at all."

  The masked man turned toward the mouth of the great cave. "What do you think, Guran?"

  Squatting just inside the cave was a tiny gray-brown man. He was chunky and hardly more than three feet high. He wore a hemp skirt and a broad hat made of thatch. Resting close at hand was a short, poison-tipped spear. Guran was a member of the Bandar pygmy tribe, the little people who were the only ones who dared to dwell in the Deep Woods. Still hunkered on the threshold, Guran replied, "I think once again the old stories have been proven true, Phantom."

  The Phantom left the radio, and walked over to his old friend. "You mean the stories about the deadliness of ?"

  "Yes, Phantom," answered the pygmy. "It is said, and I believe truly said, that no one of the jungle has ever entered that volcano and returned to tell the tale." Guran shook his head, giving a small shudder, "It is a place of death-a place of sacrifice."

  "Not of sacrifice any longer, Guran," reminded the Phantom. "That was all centuries ago, wasn't it?"

  'Yes, many centuries ago," answered the pygmy. "In the days when the first Phantom walked the jungle." The Bandar people had lived in this mysterious wood for centuries, even before the coming of the first Phantom. Guran had known the present Phantom since he was a child, The Phantom began to pace the stone floor of the Skull Cave, with the wolf, Devil, at his heels. "I wonder what that girl and her party ran into down there," he mused. "What was it she said? 'It's a gigantic b-!' What does that b stand for? And what did she find within ?"

  "Death," Guran told him. "That is what waits for everyone who tries to learn the secrets of ."

  With a smile, the Phantom said, "And you think that would happen to me, too? Guran, should I give it a try?"

  The pygmy jumped to his feet, clutching his spear. "You're not thinking of going to look for that foolish female doctor, are you, Phantom?"

  "I'll wait and see
what Colonel Weeks's patrol helicopter finds out," the Phantom said. Though none knew it, the Phantom himself was actually commander in chief of the Jungle Patrol. Even Colonel Weeks did not know the identity of the mysterious commander in chief from whom his orders came, though the shrewd colonel had a strong suspicion. "I have a hunch they aren't going to learn anything by flying over ."