The Phantom

by Rob MacGregor

  “Stop changing the subject.”

  She was pouting now. He had always liked her face when she pouted; liked it when she didn’t, too.

  “They look valuable,” he went on.

  “They’re black pearls.”

  “Really? Where would you get something like that, I wonder?”

  “It was a gift.”

  “From somebody special?”

  Diana didn’t answer. He could tell she didn’t know what to say.

  “That’s okay. I understand.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “You can’t possibly understand. I don’t even understand it myself.”

  “Well, I guess I had my chance.”

  “I guess you did.”

  They both fell silent. After a couple more blocks, the cabby pulled over to the curb. “Here we are, Mr. Walker. The museum.”

  En route to the skull display, they wove their way from room to room, past artifacts from dimly remembered centuries and dead civilizations. It all blurred together for Diana, who was still puzzling over Kit’s unwillingness to talk about himself. Why was she attracted to these mystery men, anyway? They only left her baffled and frustrated. Yet, the attraction was undeniable.

  “Over here,” Kit said, motioning toward a glass-encased display.

  Diana stared in awe at the black jade skull with its jewel-encrusted eye sockets. It was on display in a huge diorama, which depicted a scene from the crusades: Christian soldiers battling Saracen warriors.

  “This is really fascinating,” she said. “I had no idea of the historical context.”

  But Kit was frowning. “They’ve got it all wrong. Incredible. Wrong century. Wrong hemisphere. Wrong culture. This skull hasn’t been lost; it’s just been misplaced. Badly misplaced.”

  How did he know? Diana wondered. Kit Walker stepped into her life after six years and knew exactly what she was trying to find out about Xander Drax. Now he knew the history of this black skull apparently better than the historians.

  “What’s your interest in Drax and these skulls?” she asked, not really expecting a direct answer.

  But he surprised her. “I represent the true owners of the skulls. I want to see them returned, and Drax wants them for himself.”

  “Simple as that, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why does Drax want them?” She had the feeling she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear what Kit had to say.

  “Because he’s discovered a very ancient secret,” Kit whispered, fingers pressed against the glass. “The three Skulls of Touganda are the source of ultimate and absolute power.”

  Diana looked around the room. “I traveled all the way to the Bangalla jungle, nearly got myself killed, and the answer was right here under my nose? Incredible.”

  “We can’t let Drax get his hands on this skull. I’ve got to get it out of here.”

  She peered at him as if he’d lost his mind. Well, maybe he had. Maybe the only mystery about Kit was that he was a bit daft. “And just how do you propose to do that?”

  Kit made a fist as if he were about to smash the display, when Diana reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait. There’s a safer way. Uncle Dave knows an important member on the board of directors. It might take a day or two, but I’m sure that something could be . . .”

  As she spoke, Kit slipped out of her light grasp and grabbed a heavy pedestal. He swung it like a baseball bat and smashed it against the glass. An alarm shrieked.

  “Or we could just break the glass,” she muttered.

  Kit stepped over the jagged edges of glass, grabbed the jade skull. Diana knew they were in trouble from the moment the alarm sounded. But she didn’t realize what kind of trouble. As Kit slipped out of the diorama, several men rushed into the room.

  One of them was Drax and another was the thug from the jungle, Quill. They were backed up by several gangster types, no doubt from the Zephro Brothers organization. Quill grabbed her and pulled her arms around her back.

  “Give that to me,” Drax ordered, pointing at the skull in Kit’s hands.

  One of the gangsters snatched the skull from his grasp and stuffed it into a leather satchel. Diana recognized him as Charlie Zephro, from pictures in the newspaper. Uncle Dave had tried to expose the Zephros more than once.

  A crowd was gathering in the room as the alarm continued to blare. Drax, dressed impeccably in a black suit turned to the crowd. “Museum security. Everything is under control.” He held up his hands, patting the air, and smiled. “Free cake and sandwiches are being served in the Hall of Nature. Don’t miss it.”

  Diana wondered where the real security people were. Then she quickly figured out that Drax had probably paid off someone to get rid of the security people, the police, anyone who would stop him. Like he told Uncle Dave, he usually got what he wanted.

  As the crowd dispersed, Drax turned to Kit. “Who are you?”

  “Just a fellow collector, Mr. Drax.”

  Diana saw light emanating from the satchel. As she stared at it, she realized she could actually see through the satchel. Inside was not one skull but two. Drax had the silver and jade skulls.

  “Hey, Drax, the bag!” Charlie Zephro held it up. “The damn things got lights.”

  Then the bag started to smoke and Charlie dropped it on the floor. Drax scooped out the skulls, clutching one in either hand. The skulls slammed together as though they were drawn by a strong magnetic force.

  “Something’s happening!” Drax shouted. “This is it! It’s happening right here and now!”

  The eyes of the two skulls began to glow, to pulse with colors. Native drums pounded loudly, surrounding them with sound. The room seemed to vibrate. Huge shadows of jungle palms danced across the walls. The overhead lights flashed off and on and off again. Smoke and mist swirled in the air as chaos erupted in the room—screams, shouts, people flinging themselves to the floor.

  Drax stayed on his feet; he stood straight in the middle of it all, electrified by the sight, marveling at the wonder. Diana was petrified, but nonetheless fascinated by what she was witnessing.

  “Unbelievable! It’s beautiful. It’s magnificent. Show me the power! Show me the power!” As Drax spoke, stained-glass windows high overhead shattered one after another. “Amazing!”

  Just when it seemed that the show of power would go no further, rays of light shot from the skulls’ eyes. The drumming built to a crescendo, and the beams converged on the wall. One particular spot on the wall was so blindingly bright, Diana had to squint to keep watching. But the brightness grew until it pierced her eyes, forcing her to shut them. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, the sound, the light, the entire exhibition of power, abruptly stopped. Everything was calm again.

  For seconds there was nothing but stillness in the room. Then people staggered to their feet like survivors of some terrible natural disaster, a hurricane, a tornado, crippling hail.

  Zephro’s goons lunged for Kit and Diana and pinned their arms behind their backs.

  Quill was the first one to walk over to the wall. “Look!”

  The beams of light had struck a mural map of the world, and burned what looked like the shape of a skull into the map. From where she stood, it appeared that the spot was located in the middle of the ocean.

  “The skulls have spoken!” Drax shouted triumphantly. He held his arms out with his palms upturned and dropped his head back, as if claiming the entire universe as his new domain.

  Diana and Kit exchanged a glance, then were hustled out of the room, surrounded by Zephro’s goons.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Kit and Diana were shoved into the backseat of a luxurious Pierce-Arrow in front of the museum. The cabby was watching the entire scenario, and as they pulled away, Kit saw the driver jump into his cab and follow them at a discreet distance.

  The ride lasted less than five minutes. Just seconds after the Pierce-Arrow stopped, Quill and three gangsters pulled Kit and Diana out of the car and hurried them into a nearby off
ice building. The thugs formed a tight circle around them in the elevator. No one spoke as they rose to the twenty-fourth floor. Then they were escorted into a huge, plush office and forcefully seated in straight-back chairs.

  “What do you think is going to happen now?” Diana asked quietly, her voice nervous.

  Kit noticed the symbol of the Drax Corporation on the wall, verifying what he already suspected, that they’d been taken to Drax’s headquarters. “Drax is going to interrogate us, then his goons will beat me up. Or maybe his goons will beat me up first. That remains to be seen.”

  “Shut up!” one of the Zephro gangsters said.

  A moment later, Drax, Quill, and Zephro entered the office. Drax didn’t waste any time. He stopped in front of him. “What’s your name? And why were you trying to steal the skull?”

  “Kit Walker.”

  “What about the skull?”

  “I thought it would go well with my new drapes.”

  “You’re cute, Mr. Walker. Fortunately, I have a cure for that.”

  Drax nodded to Zephro, who jerked Kit from the chair and twisted his arms behind his back. At the same time, Quill drove his fist deep into Kit’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him and possibly rearranging his organs.

  Kit sank to his knees and saw the Phantom skull-head gun belt around Quill’s waist. He touched his own gun belt beneath his suit just to make sure he was still wearing it.

  “Stop it!” Diana yelled. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “Why, Diana Palmer, are you sweet on Mr. Walker? I thought your true love was swinging on a jungle vine somewhere.”

  “How did you know about—” She stopped. “I mean, what makes you think that?”

  “I told him,” a woman’s voice said from the corner of the office.

  Kit turned his head as Sala got up from a couch and stepped forward.

  “Sala’s got all the latest gossip on two continents,” Drax said, sounding amused.

  “Go ahead, deny it,” Sala said. “But you know he’s in love with you and you’re nuts about him. From the moment he came flying out of that laundry chute, you were hooked on the purple guy.”

  “Kismet in the jungle,” Drax said.

  “You’re despicable,” Diana snapped at Drax. She turned to Sala. “And you’re just jealous.”

  Sala slapped her across the face. “Now I’m one up on you.”

  Drax motioned to Quill. “Take Mr. Walker up to the observation deck and make him talk.”

  “I claim the body when you’re done,” Sala said, and laughed.

  Quill and several other men jerked Kit to his feet and dragged him out of the office. They led him down a hall. Kit was slumped forward and wobbling. He made no effort to resist his captors. As they turned up a stairwell, he stumbled and was pulled to his feet. And then he reacted.

  He spun around and kicked Quill in the chest. Quill stumbled back into two of the thugs and continued to tumble down the stairs, taking the two men with him. Kit dashed up the steps and ducked into a utility room. It was dark and full of vents and ducts and air shafts, and at one end was a giant fan. Quickly he shed his suit jacket, shirt, and pants and pressed up against a wall as he heard footsteps.

  Quill and the gangsters entered the utility room with their guns drawn. “He must be in here.” Quill signaled them to split up as they moved forward.

  The thugs moved to the center of the room where they came upon a pile of clothes heaped on the floor. They picked through the clothes like vultures looking for carrion and realized they belonged to Kit. They looked baffled.

  “Hey, now what’s this supposed to mean?” one of them asked.

  That’s when the Phantom stepped out from behind them and knocked their heads together. The two men slumped to the floor. The Phantom glanced across the room just as Quill spotted him.

  “What the . . . !” Quill raised his weapon and fired wildly. Then he dashed for the door as if the room were about to explode.

  The Phantom grabbed the doorknob, but Quill had locked it from the outside. Realizing what was about to happen, the Phantom dove to the side. Bullets cracked through the door, ricocheting wildly about the room.

  The Phantom figured that the only other way out was through the duct system. But to get into it, he had to enter through the giant fan. When the firing ceased, he pulled off the cover. The rapidly rotating blades were at least five feet in diameter.

  He tried to jam the fan blades with a broom handle, but the blades chopped the handle into splinters. The Phantom drew one of his pistols and, with extraordinary concentration and strength, suddenly plunged it into the spinning fan. He squeezed hard to keep the pistol from being ripped from his hand. Sparks flew, but the blades finally stopped turning.

  With his free hand, he took off his gun belt and quickly looped it around one of the blades. Then he carefully slipped between the blades and into the duct. Finally he jerked his gun belt away from the fan, and it whirred to life again.

  Drax unrolled a large map across his desk. He was still excited by what had happened at the museum, and was no longer concerned about Diana or Kit. Diana realized that she had ceased to exist for Drax, but Charlie Zephro was standing behind her, guarding her like a hyena with its wounded prey, ready to act if she tried anything.

  “Once I check the coordinates from that map in the museum against this navigational chart, we’ll have the location of the third skull,” Drax said.

  Sala moved around the desk and held one end of the map down so it didn’t curl inward. Drax, meanwhile, kept mulling over the map, searching for the coordinates. “Ah, here we go. Isn’t this interesting?”

  “Where is it?” Zephro asked. “I hope it ain’t under the water, because I can’t swim.”

  Drax ignored him. “The Devil’s Vortex. We’re going to the Devil’s Vortex. Let’s get ready. No time to waste.”

  “Are you sure?” Sala asked. “Check again. Maybe you made a mistake.”

  “No mistake.”

  “Isn’t that the place where all those ships keep disappearing?” Zephro asked.

  “Yes. Incredible, isn’t it?” Drax stepped back from the map, placing his hands on his hips. But his gaze never left the fabled vortex. “There must be an island there, an uncharted island.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Zephro said, then thinking it over, he added: “Maybe my brother was right about all this stuff.”

  “Nonsense. Where’s your spirit of adventure?” Drax walked over to Zephro and put his arm over his shoulder. “Get Commissioner Farley on the phone. We need to get out of town as quickly as possible.”

  Zephro nodded, but didn’t look very enthused. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Diana listened to it all. But her thoughts were on Kit’s fate and ultimately her own. The chances that Drax was going to let them live weren’t very good. Even though she was Dave Palmer’s niece, that wasn’t going to stop him. After all, he hadn’t hesitated making Dr. Fleming disappear, even though the library director’s last appointment was known to be with Drax.

  While Zephro made the call, Drax and Sala carried on about their upcoming adventure in the Caribbean, and she was cozying up to him. Diana knew it was time to take a chance. She slowly positioned herself, mustered her nerve, and leaped for the door.

  She pulled it open and rushed past Drax’s startled secretary, then through another doorway and out into the hall. She glanced right, left, decided to go right. She dashed down the corridor as she heard raised voices and chaos coming from Drax’s office.

  Diana reached the stairs, hesitated, then dashed up the flight of steps. She had to help Kit, and hopefully the two of them would escape.

  Her decision fooled Zephro and Drax, who raced down the stairs, expecting her to attempt to escape the building by the quickest route. But then she heard footsteps behind her and knew that Sala hadn’t been fooled.

  Diana ran past the open utility room door and continued up to the observation deck. As she burst out onto the deck, it only took a moment
to realize that Drax had been referring to the roof. By now Quill and the other thugs might have tossed Kit over the side.

  She looked around, but didn’t see anyone. She moved around the enclosure that covered the elevator shaft, but there was no sign of him there, either. Where are you, Kit? Where?

  Then Sala stepped out. “I know you’re up here, Diana. C’mon out, c’mon out, wherever you are!” she called in a soft, singsong voice.

  Diana crept along the side of the enclosure. She saw Sala, pistol in hand, six or seven feet away—two steps and a lunge. She was about to make her move when Sala spun around.

  “There you are, Diana!” She smiled. “You didn’t really think you were going to save your buddy and get away, did you?”

  “Listen, Sala. You don’t have to go along with Drax. He’s only going to get you in a lot of trouble. He’s already gotten you into trouble.”

  Sala smiled sweetly. “How nice of you to be concerned about my welfare, Diana. But don’t forget, I’m already in big trouble. Remember those laws I broke for bringing down the Pan Am Clipper? And for kidnapping you.”

  “You haven’t exactly been a good girl, but—”

  “But there’s always time to reform, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, sorry, but I don’t think this is the right time,” Sala said. “Now let’s go back downstairs, and everything will be forgiven. Sort of.”

  Diana held her ground.

  Sala took a step closer. “Hey, I ain’t kidding here. You got no choice in the matter.”

  Play it her way for now, Diana thought. “Okay.” She walked toward Sala and the doorway to the stairs.

  “That’s better. I’ll tell Drax you came up for a little fresh air.”

  Suddenly Diana’s hand shot out and she grabbed Sala’s wrist and twisted. The gun went off, slipped from Sala’s grasp, and hit the floor. This time Diana scooped it up, but Sala grabbed her arm. They struggled, and the gun fired again, this time skyward.

  Diana stepped out with her foot, tripped Sala, and they both tottered and fell to the roof. They rolled over and over, struggling for the gun, rolling closer to the edge of the roof until they were one revolution short of spinning into space.