Gold Trap

by Lilly Maytree

  “Professor Anderson?” She swung the beam all around her until it illuminated two figures several yards farther down. They were slumped against a wooden brace that had partially toppled and was now precariously holding up the last portion of ceiling. A fine stream of dirt poured over the top of them from above, like an hourglass with the time running out. But even covered in dirt, she recognized the same man she had seen sitting with the professor at the airport.

  “We’re dead,” said Gilbert. “I can see some dame floating about ten feet up.”

  The professor lifted a dust-covered head and blinked into the beam of Meg’s flashlight. “Why it’s…Meg, is that you? Why, blast it all, Gilbert!” He thumped the man with an angry foot. “You said she robbed me, and now here she is, just in the nick of time!”

  There was a howl of pain and Gilbert swore profoundly and moaned. “Right in my busted leg, you old…”

  “Would I be here if I robbed you?” Meg interrupted the heated exchange as she picked her way gingerly down over the rubble toward them. “I’ve been worried sick over all this!”

  “Figured it out from the deed, did you? I knew you were the kind I could count on! Not like some nincompoops who can’t even do what they’re paid for!”

  “So, I dipped into the coffers and didn’t want to get canned,” Gilbert complained. “I told you it was supposed to be a staged kidnapping. Rescue the old man and come out the hero. Only they tricked me. Sent me off on some wild goose chase looking for her, so they could do the real thing to you. Had to do a pretty piece of professional work to find you, again, too!”

  “You’re a nincompoop and you’re fired!”

  “You can argue about it later,” said Meg. “I’ve got to figure out how to get these ropes undone before the whole roof comes down on us.”

  “Where’s Eddie?” asked the professor.

  “He went for a bush rope. He’s got a knife with him, but he might not get back in time to use it.” She poked tentatively at the giant knot at his wrists beneath the beam of light. “Tight as a piano wire. What have you been doing, pulling it tighter?”

  “Prisoner’s got a right to escape.” He gave a cough as another puff of dust filtered down on top of him. “Worst timing in the world for an earthquake.”

  “Is that what that was? I thought it was a cave-in.”

  “If it was a cave-in, we’d be dead. Does anyone else know we’re here?”

  “The police are looking through all the mines, right now, trying to find you. But Tom thought you were at Little De Ambe, so he went there.”

  “Blast! Don’t you have anything in that bag you can cut with?”

  “I’ve got a knife in my left boot,” said Gilbert, “only it’s buried under about two feet of rock.”

  Meg turned the light onto him. He was covered in enough dust to resemble a gray ghost with thick curly hair, but there was no mistaking the gleaming gold chain at his open collar. She gasped.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he replied to her accusing glare. “There’s a sucker born every minute. But would I be here if I followed through with it?”

  “I don’t know. Here, hold this.” Meg stuck the end of her flashlight in his mouth and began clearing away the rocks on top of his leg.

  “Owww!” The light clattered onto the ground and rolled several yards away. “It’s busted! Did you hear me say it was busted? You got no sympathy?”

  “Not much for nincompoops.” Meg moved off to pick the light up, again.

  “She’s the daughter I’ve always wanted…” boasted the professor. “A chip off the old block!”

  “She’s as loony as you are,” said Gilbert. “…and if she wrenches my leg, again, I’m gonna sue!”

  “Which any judge would declare irrelevant when you are on trial for kidnapping.” Meg suddenly stepped on something soft and yielding and turned the flashlight onto her foot to see what it was. Red and white material of some kind, but in this light, and without her glasses, she couldn’t quite make it out. She bent closer. Polka dots. Huge red and white polka dots. And sticking out from beneath that…

  A woman’s legs.

  Gold Trap

  23

  The Last Stand

  “I dare say I ought to have rushed at him and cut his bonds, and killed people in a general way with a revolver, and then flown with my band to the bush; only my band evidently had no flying in them…”

  Mary Kingsley

  “It’s Mrs. Cunningham,” the professor replied to Meg’s sudden outcry.

  “What? Oh, dear Lord, did I do that when…”

  “No. The poor woman was dead before all that came down on her. Some kind of stroke, heart attack, or something, just after they brought us here. Couldn’t take the strain.”

  “The old biddy died of apoplexy,” said Gilbert. “And if she hadn’t done it on her own, someone else would have gladly.”

  “Mr. Minelli!” Meg interrupted. “I suggest you keep your disrespectful opinions to yourself! Before somebody drops a landslide on you! Or refuses to dig you out of one!”

  “OK. But you better keep to your right, on account of Henry Stratlemyer is laying somewhere next to her.”

  Meg moved her flashlight over the area and then gasped, again. There, indeed, was Ethel’s husband. She recognized the rather heavyset man’s form even from several yards away. He still had his camera dangling from a neck that was… “What? Oh…don’t tell me…he…”

  “Leopard,” said the Professor. “He was like that before we got here. Must have happened on the photography excursion, trailing too close for the perfect shot.”

  “I don’t believe it!” Meg said. “That’s too many unfortunate accidents for one budget tour! As soon as I get out of here, I’m going straight to the commissioner, and…”

  “Shhh! Is that a plane? Eddie’s back! That boy’s like another son to me!”

  Meg listened for a moment. “It can’t be Eddie’s plane. We came in a van.”

  “Uh-oh…” Gilbert moaned. “If it ain’t Eddie, we’re dead.”

  “Gilbert, if there’s anything else you’re not telling us.” The professor warned. “I’m going to break your other leg as soon as Meg unties me!”

  Meg startled as if suddenly waking from a trance and hurried back over to finish clearing the rocks away. Where was Eddie? It wasn’t that far to the trees, and he should have been back by now. She set the flashlight along a crack in the wall this time. Another drift of dirt poured down on them from the ceiling, and she coughed in the choking dust.

  “Watch it! You want to bring the whole place down on us? I can’t take any more of this!” Gilbert’s complaints grew louder with each rock she threw off him. “Somebody put me out of my misery! They’re just gonna blow us all up in that old plane, anyway, so it’ll look like a…”

  Another beam of light suddenly flooded over them from above, and a long resilient vine unwound itself from the entrance. In a moment, a knife clattered down after. “Come, come!” Came a loud whisper. “You must hurry!”

  Meg scrambled for the blade and went back with it to cut loose the professor. It only took a minute, but he had been in the same position for so long, she had to help him to his feet. She tied the vine for him, too, because his hands were numb from lack of circulation.

  “Are you sure that knot will hold?”

  “Professor, I was raised on a boat. I could tie knots before I could read.”

  “You next, Meg.” He urged then, as he began to be lifted from above. “We can lower Eddie down for Gilbert, afterward.”

  “Don’t bother,” mumbled the errant bodyguard. “He said he was going to kill me if anything happened to you.”

  Meg had an odd sense of urgency now that help had arrived, and it seemed like forever before the bush rope reappeared. The plane must have landed by now, because she could no longer hear the engine. “It could be Miriam bringing the police,” she said more to herself than Gilbert. “They said the law was already here, looking in some of the other mi
nes. It could be Miriam!”

  “Don’t kid yourself, girlie. It’s the Abdu Sadir to stage a plane crash. Another change in plans.”

  Meg shuddered at the thought. “Ready!” She whispered as she wound the vine twice around her waist and then several times around itself before she decided she did not like Gilbert Minelli. Not even a bit. Even if he did have a change of heart at the last minute. He knew too much about what was going on not to have been involved in the plot from the beginning. Such an obnoxious attitude! Why, as far as she was concerned, he could still be part of this.

  Eddie was not as careful as he had been when he lifted her out of the rail car. Maybe he was angry at her having ended up in the bottom of the shaft instead of staying where he told her. But there was certainly nothing she could have done about that. Hadn’t he felt the earthquake? “Whatever you’re thinking, Eddie,” she began when one of her boots suddenly sank into a soft spot of earth and she nearly lost her balance, “I am not responsible for the…”

  The grip on her tightened, and suddenly, to her horror, she found herself face-to-face with Sol Horn, instead. Even in the dark she could feel his hatred (yes, hatred!) as she looked into the same chilling stare that he had pegged her with, yesterday, in the crowded restaurant.

  “You have caused me a great deal of trouble, Megan Jennings, and escaped me many times.” He tightened his grip even more, as if he were angry enough to crush her right where she was standing. “Somebody always helps you! But now…there will be blood.”

  “Well, it won’t be mine because I am not alone! Do you hear?” She gave him a sudden shove. “My friends are coming any minute!”

  It caught him off-guard almost enough for her to slip from his grasp, except that she was still wound up in the bush rope and he yanked her back with it, again. Then he reached around from behind and pulled her toward him, his forearm pressing so hard against her throat she could barely breathe.

  “Those friends?” He spoke into her ear and pointed with his free hand toward the two still forms of Eddie and the professor, lying in the brush a few feet away.

  Meg’s heart sank.

  Then he put a thumb against her neck under her ear and began to press, causing an excruciating pain. She felt herself going numb all over, and just as everything around her faded into blackness, she heard the far-off sound of other voices. For a moment, the pressure on her neck eased.

  Sol Horn hollered, “Get these down to the plane and be quick! The law will swarm like bees when they see the fire! All of them must be inside the plane before they get here!”

  Meg didn’t miss her chance.

  She let go of that iron forearm she had been trying to pull away from her throat and sent her elbow into his stomach, instead. The unexpected offense caught him off-guard again and made him lose his grip. But this time she turned toward him rather than running off, and without hesitation, slammed her fist into his mid-section with every ounce of strength she possessed.

  There was a loud “Ooof!” as he clutched his stomach and staggered, and then, to her utter shock, he fell backwards into the hole.

  “Oh, dear Lord!” She dropped to her knees and strained to see into the black depths. “Oh, I’ve killed him!”

  “What a hit!” squealed a familiar voice that was suddenly beside her. “I was wrong about you, Meg. Maybe you are law enforcement material!” Miriam, who had materialized from somewhere out of the darkness, was dressed all in black and even had her long tresses tied up in a black scarf. She threw the beam of her own flashlight into the hole. “Oh, it’s hardly ten feet to the bottom.” And with the spring-like grace of a cat, she leapt in.

  Meg felt as if she were going to be ill. What had she done? What if Sol Horn was dead? First kidnapping and now murder! How was she ever going to explain this? She wasn’t this kind of person. She had never been this kind of person! She heard a groan behind her and turned around to see Eddie struggling to his feet. “Eddie…oh, Eddie…thank God! But…oh, I…I think I just killed Sol Horn!”

  “That snake…” Eddie moved slowly towards her, rubbing a hand at the side of his throat. “He got me in the neck with his thumb before I even knew he was behind me! Where’s Miriam? She was here a minute ago.”

  “She just…just jumped right into that hole like…like it was her own backyard!” Meg peered into the depths, again, and the feeble ring of light at the bottom was enough to illuminate the small dark-clad figure as she flipped over the dazed, still-gasping form of Sol Horn and cuffed him behind his back with a practiced agility. Still alive! Meg breathed a heartfelt thanks to the Lord.

  “It is her backyard,” Eddie knelt down beside her and gazed into the cavern, himself.

  “Edabe!” Miriam’s voice could hardly contain her excitement, and for the first time, Meg could hear a trace of the local accent in it. “Edabe, do you see? I have got Solomon!”

  “Yes, I see, Nkatia. Come up, now, and leave him for the men to haul out.”

  “What…what…” The professor’s muffled voice came from the brush behind them. Meg turned in time to see him rise up slowly on his hands and knees and then leap suddenly to his feet, circling with an unsteady shuffling and both fists raised to fighting position. “Blast it all! The next person knocks me out, or slips me a mickey, is going to catch it! Are you all right, Meg?”

  “Oh, Professor!” It was the best Meg could manage because the wave of relief that flooded over her was almost physical.

  “Where is that no-good coward? I’ll…why, Miriam…” His gaze suddenly fell on Eddie as he pulled his wife out of the hole. “Have you been down there this whole time? Why the devil didn’t you help us?”

  “I just got here, Pop,” she replied. “It was the best I could do since that trail you were supposed to mark for me petered out somewhere back in St. Louis. I waited an hour for you to show up.”

  “My own bodyguard submarined me!”

  “You want me to arrest him? Where is he?”

  “He’s still down there with two dead people from the tour,” said Meg. “But it’s going to take some digging to get them out.”

  “I say we leave him,” said Eddie.

  “Edabe…what are you saying?” Miriam pulled the dark scarf from her head to wipe the heat and dust from her face, and her many-braided ponytail fell the full length of her back. “How can we embrace the modern ways when you keep turning back to the old? I must arrest him, first. Then you can do what you want with him.”

  There was a sound of voices as several more people came into view over the rise. Miriam stashed her scarf in a back pocket and hollered, “Father, I got him! I got Solomon Horn!”

  “You got him,” came the deep familiar voice of the commissioner. “It doesn’t mean you can hold him.”

  “I’ll hold him. Did you get the others?” she asked.

  “Three. But the Abdu Sadir’s plane is burning, and he is nowhere to be found. They are putting the fire out, now.”

  “He’s at the bottom of the shaft,” said Meg. “Miriam just…”

  The large man’s eyes suddenly riveted on Meg. “Uh-oh. The little lady with heatstroke, again. What are you doing out here in the bush without your husband?”

  “Well, I’m…I’m looking for him,” Meg stammered.

  “And still obviously affected because that is not true. You knew he was not here. As for the Abdu Sadir, he would never bother with dumping people in holes, or get himself stuck in one.”

  “He would to cover up murder,” insisted Meg. “Sol Horn is as deceitful as the devil himself!”

  “But Sol Horn is not the Abdu Sadir, mama,” said Eddie. “He is only his son.”

  “What?”

  “I distinctly remember you telling me you weren’t married,” interrupted the professor.

  “I’m not married,” said Meg.

  “And not in the least ashamed,” observed the commissioner. “Edabe, we had to commandeer your plane.”

  “What for, now? I must get these people home,” sai
d Eddie.

  “Then take them. We’re already finished, so you can have it back.”

  “Finished…who flew it for you?”

  “Tom Anderson,” the commissioner replied.

  “You mean, he’s here?” cried Meg.

  “He brought all of us here. We had to land some way down the river, and now he’s motoring the plane to the loading dock to pick everyone up. Go on, all of you. My men have arrived with the boats and we’ll take care of these others. Hey…”

  But Meg had already taken off down the hill, so he called after her. “Slow down! I have enough paperwork without someone else breaking their neck!”

  Within minutes, she was down the hill and onto the rickety wooden dock that stretched like a crooked finger out into the river. She looked across to where two motorboats had high-powered lights turned on to illuminate the smoldering fire at the edge of the farthest bank, and saw a thin wisp of smoke that was beginning to rise and dissipate into the heavy night air. Beneath it, the black skeleton of a small plane stuck out from the billows. There were several people watching from the dock, their figures in silhouette against the brightness of the spotlights shining from the boats. They were waiting with ropes to tie onto a large, red and white, twin-engine Cessna that was just coming up alongside.

  Meg was nearly there when she saw a familiar figure break away and head toward her. She stepped up her pace and cried, “Tom…oh, Tom!” and fairly leapt into his arms. He caught her, but it was more out of surprise than recognition. Still, it wasn’t until Meg planted a heartfelt kiss on a rugged but smooth-shaven face that she realized her mistake.

  She gasped and let go of him. “You’re…you’re not Tom! Why, you’re Bertram Hunter!”

  “Bobby to family and friends.” He gave her the same disarming smile that had made him famous and set her down. “I take it you’re Meg.”