Flight to the Lonesome Place

by Alexander Key

  “Oh, Marlowe,” whispered Ana María Rosalita, “I know how you feel.” She reached quickly into the shrimp bag, then thrust her hand into the guava bush. “It’s so good to be back with you, Marlowe. And thank you for biting the Señora!”

  From the bush came small gurgling sounds of joy. “Um, nipping the Señora, um, was an unqualified pleasure. Ummm! There’s nothing better than shrimp! Umm-m-m …”

  “Except mangoes.”

  “I’ll, um, bring you one shortly. Now that you are with us again, um, I’m sure all our fortunes will change. Sit tight, everyone. I’ll be right back.”

  Hardly more than a minute could have passed when Ronnie heard a rustling in the guava bush, and a small brass key fell almost directly into his hand.

  “All clear at the moment!” Marlowe said in a rush. “Make it fast, and you’ll be safe. Don’t forget to lock the door when you get inside, and keep away from the windows.”

  They raced through the breadfruit grove, passed the great mango tree that shaded the cottage, and ran up the high flight of steps to the veranda. In seconds they were through the outer grill door and the inner door to the hall, which opened to the same key.

  Inside, safe at last, both Ronnie and Black Luis collapsed in the nearest wicker chairs. But Ana María Rosalita, seemingly undaunted by all she had been through, went directly to the telephone. Ronnie could only stare at her in astonishment.

  The tiny girl was mud-streaked, torn, and bedraggled; her dark hair was awry, one eye was half closed, and the side of her face was swollen and bruised. But all this did not in the least detract from her look of absolute determination when she picked up the receiver. She managed to get the operator, and in a manner as grand as a duchess she demanded that a call be put through immediately to Las Alturas.

  “This is Ana María Rosalita Montoya de la Torre,” she announced, “and I must speak to Bernardo Montoya on a matter of greatest importance.”

  Ronnie had never seen her like. Whether it was her manner or the Montoya name that brought instant action, he could only guess, but all at once he was aware of a furious squawking coming from the receiver, and he realized that an angry Bernardo was on the other end of the line.

  “Shut up and listen to me!” Ana María Rosalita ordered. In her high, clear voice there was all the coldness and sharpness of needle-pointed icicles. “Bernardo, you must instantly stop what you are doing to poor Black Luis, or you will be terribly, terribly, sorry. Have you forgotten that my grandmother was a daughter of the Shee? I have the power. I warn you I will use it unless you do what is right. Will you leave Black Luis alone?”

  From the receiver came more furious squawking. Abruptly Ana María Rosalita cried, “I have warned you, Bernardo! Now you must suffer. In an hour a wart will begin to grow on your nose. In two hours there will be another wart. By morning your face will be covered with them. There will be more, and more, and more, and they will grow uglier, and uglier, and uglier. You will become the most loathsome creature in all the islands. The only way you can ever get rid of them is to do what I have told you.”

  Quietly she replaced the receiver and came to the center of the room. With a little wave of her hand, she said in her duchess manner, “I must be left entirely alone.”

  Ronnie hastily followed Black Luis into the adjoining room, which turned out to be the captain’s den. As he passed through the doorway he glanced quickly back, and glimpsed Ana María Rosalita sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, lips moving silently.

  Black Luis whispered, “¡Madre! I’d sure hate to be Bernardo now!”

  “You—you really believe—”

  “Don’t you, brother Blue?”

  “I—I don’t know what to believe,” Ronnie confessed. “Don’t forget, I wasn’t raised the way you were.”

  “No,” the black boy whispered. “And what a great pity. You didn’t have my advantages. I had a wise papa, and he raised me right. He said to keep faith in God and Jesus, but don’t take too much stock in the local priest.”

  “What was wrong with the local priest?”

  “Oh, he didn’t think magic was good. He taught that it all came from the devil. Imagine that! Why, the Bible is full of magic.”

  Ronnie said nothing. After all, he thought, he really shouldn’t disbelieve in something just because common sense said it was impossible. Common sense had once said that man couldn’t split the atom or fly to the moon. And common sense was still trying to tell him that Dr. Prynne had rocks in his head. Yet, if there wasn’t a second world like this one, existing in the same space but in another dimension, where did Marlowe go to get those impossible mangoes?

  Time passed, and weariness pressed down upon him. He closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep. But plans had been at work in the back of his head, and at the thought of the telephone he became wide awake on the instant. The telephone! Yesterday, when he had decided to go to Mayagüez, he hadn’t dreamed that there might be an available telephone anywhere near. It would solve a lot of problems.

  He tiptoed to the edge of the hall, found the telephone book, then slipped back into the den and began studying the list of Mayagüez lawyers. The important thing, of course, was to pick the right one.

  He was carefully planning how to do this when a small sound jerked his head around. Ana María Rosalita, herself again, and now a very tired and bedraggled little girl, was coming into the room.

  Black Luis whispered, “You—you’ve done it, small sister?”

  “I’ve done it,” she told them, as she came in and practically fell upon the sofa. “It was an awful thing to do, and it quite used me up, but it had to be done. If you could see how bad your trouble sign has become …”

  Suddenly she sat up, and a look of fright came over her small pinched face. “Oh, dear! All our trouble signs are looking absolutely ghastly. I just saw mine in the mirror, Boy Blue. It’s a horror, and yours is even worse. I—I hope nothing happens until I’ve had some rest. I’m too utterly gone to even—”

  She was interrupted by Marlowe’s sharp little voice. From somewhere in the dense foliage near the side window he called, “I’ve brought something that ought to recharge you! Unlatch the screen, somebody, and I’ll toss it in.”

  Black Luis swung out of his chair and started for the window. He froze in mid-stride as the telephone in the hall began to ring.

  The sound brought Ronnie to his feet. He stood rigid with shock. Who could possibly be calling here? Had Bernardo guessed where they were? Or were the police on the line, hoping curiosity would betray a hidden occupant?

  Again the telephone rang, imperiously demanding attention.

  “Answer it!” Marlowe shrieked. “It must be important!”

  Ronnie darted into the hall. With an unsteady hand he reached for the receiver.

  11

  THE MAGIC LINE

  RONNIE SWALLOWED, and raised the receiver to his ear. “¿Hola?” he managed to say, pretending to be a house servant. He asked in Spanish, “To whom do you wish to speak?”

  “Ron?” spoke a familiar voice. “Ron McHenry?”

  In his overwhelming relief, Ronnie almost dropped the receiver. “Captain Anders!” he cried. “Oh, golly, I’m glad it’s you! I didn’t know whether to answer or not. So I just took a chance—”

  “I took a chance myself, son. Tried a dozen times to reach you. Thought I’d give the cottage one more ring before I left. Heard you had a squeak getting ashore, but couldn’t get the straight of it from anyone. Anyway, I’ve been doggoned worried about you. I’m in the Mayagüez office now, and if I had an hour to spare, I’d take a run out there. But my vessel’s nearly loaded and I’ll have to be under way shortly. Are you all right? Did you find Black Luis? Have you had any more trouble?”

  “We—we’ve all had trouble, sir. We—”

  “All of you? Who the dickens is with you?”

  “Black Luis and Ana María Rosalita. We spent the night getting her away from Las Alturas. They had her l
ocked up there. Those devils hadn’t given her a bite to eat since she left the ship. She—”

  “What?”

  “We ducked in here to hide about an hour ago. Everybody’s looking for us—the police, the immigration people, Bernardo’s men.…” He gave the captain a brief account of what was happening.

  From the other end of the line came an explosion of salty wrath that rattled the receiver. Then the captain said tersely, “Ron, you’re going to need help in this. I can be out there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Don’t come out, sir. It isn’t necessary. I’m sure I can handle things—”

  “But, son, you’re all in a spot! It’s a dangerous situation. There must be something I can do.”

  “There certainly is, sir.” Ronnie’s mind was already leaping far ahead. “In fact, there are two things. But first, I wonder if this phone is safe?”

  “Safe enough. Just keep speaking in English. Very few people at this end of the island understand it.”

  “Well, the immediate thing is a lawyer. I want the best there is, and the cost doesn’t matter.”

  The captain said without hesitation, “Pardo Green is your man. His office is in Mayagüez, and I’ve known him since he was your age. My only worry is that he may be busy. Maybe I’d better call him, tell him this is an emergency, and see if he’ll meet you at the cottage.”

  That was exactly what Ronnie wanted. “But just one thing before you do. The three of us are minors, and we have no rights without a legal guardian to act for us. Ana María Rosalita has a guardian, but we’ve got to get rid of him, fast. Neither Black Luis nor I have anyone. So we’ve all decided we’ll stick together and be a family. But of course we’ll have to have a guardian. Will—will you let us name you for the job?”

  “Guardian? For all three of you?” The captain sounded astounded.

  “It—it’s just a legal thing,” Ronnie hastened to say. “I mean, we certainly wouldn’t let it be of any expense to you—and as for interfering with your privacy here when you retire—”

  “Doggone it, son, don’t get me wrong. Of course I’ll take on the job! I’m honored. It’ll be up to the court to appoint me—and I can see a whale of a court battle shaping up before this thing’s over—but I’m sure Pardo Green can handle it. Let me call his office, then I’ll call you right back.”

  Ronnie hung up and turned to see Ana María Rosalita and Black Luis watching him breathlessly. “Did—did he say he would?” the tiny girl asked.

  “He sure did. I hope you two don’t mind my jumping in and picking him without talking it over with you first. But I had to grab him when the chance came. You see, if we want to stick together, we’ve got to have a guardian. So it ought to be someone we all know and like. We wouldn’t want the court to appoint a stranger.”

  “De veras, no!” said Black Luis. “But the captain—ah, there is a man. They come no better.”

  “He’s wonderful,” whispered Ana María Rosalita. “Please, everybody keep his fingers crossed, and pray we get him.” She crossed her fingers on both hands, drifted back to the sofa, and curled up upon it like an exhausted kitten. She was almost instantly sound asleep.

  When Captain Anders called again a few minutes later she did not awaken. “I got Pardo Green’s office,” he told Ronnie. “Juan Pardo himself wasn’t there, but I talked to both his partner and his secretary, and explained as much as I dared. They’re hooked. I’m sure Juan Pardo will go along with them. He’s in Aguadilla for the morning. They are trying to phone him in Aguadilla now and have him stop by the cottage on the way back to Mayagüez. His partner, Jaime García, said he’d come out and see you himself this evening if they can’t locate Juan Pardo in time. So we’ll just have to wait.”

  “I see,” said Ronnie. “It sounds very hopeful.”

  “And I’ve decided,” the captain hastened on, “that if I can locate a substitute master in the next hour or two—and I’m sure I can—I’ll stay over and see this thing through with you. Since I’ll be retiring in a couple weeks anyway—”

  “No, please—you mustn’t do that! Can’t you see what will happen? If Bernardo’s lawyer is any good, he’ll wreck you in court!”

  “Wreck me? How?”

  “If you appear too soon, he’ll say you’re behind all the trouble. You’ll be accused of abduction, and contributing to our delinquency, and the court will be told that you are just trying to get your hands on us because of our money. We’ll lose you—and we simply can’t let that happen.”

  “Whew! I hadn’t thought of that side of it. Doggone it, son, you sound like a lawyer.”

  “I—I’ve been forced to study it a little,” Ronnie admitted. “Just for my protection.” He drew a long breath of relief. Though he hadn’t wanted to mention it, the captain’s presence at a time like this, with so many people on the watch for them, could be a great danger.

  “But, Ron,” the captain added, “don’t forget the spot you’re in. You can’t appear in public and help others without exposing yourself.”

  “I know that, sir, and I think I have a solution. I’m going to work on it as soon as I’ve talked with Pardo Green. What does he look like? Things are getting sort of rough, and I want to be able to recognize him before I let him in the door.”

  The captain described both lawyers, then discussed how they could keep in touch with each other during the coming weeks. Ronnie had a lump in his throat when he finally hung up. The possibility that he might actually have Captain Anders as a sort of substitute father was a little overwhelming.

  As he turned away from the telephone he saw Black Luis hauling a pair of beach mattresses from the hall closet. “Let’s get some sleep,” the black boy mumbled.

  They spread the mattresses upon the living room floor. Ronnie sank down on one and wearily removed his shoes. He tore off his wig, which miraculously had remained in place during their blind plunge down the mountainside, then sat a moment peering about the room. He was very uneasy.

  “We ought to take turns standing guard,” he said.

  “Forget it, brother Blue. Marlowe’s keeping watch. He can sniff trouble long before it gets here.”

  Ronnie was asleep the moment his head touched the mattress.

  He awakened in the middle of his third dream of terrible reality to find Black Luis anxiously shaking him.

  “Someone’s coming!” the black boy whispered. “Two men, Marlowe said. Strangers. They left their car out by the gate.”

  Ronnie sat up, but for a moment it was impossible for him to think. The dream was too real, too vividly before him. After his first two experiences, he knew it was going to happen exactly as he saw it. Seldom had he felt so frightened and helpless.

  With an effort he thrust the dream to the back of his mind, and glanced at his watch. It was hardly one o’clock. For a hopeful moment he wondered if the visitors could be Pardo Green and a friend. Then he realized that the lawyer would surely come alone.

  He was studying the room carefully when he saw Ana María Rosalita watching him wide-eyed from the doorway of the den.

  “Come in here, camarada” he whispered. “Keep down on the floor.”

  The living room, with bedrooms and den on either side, a broad veranda facing the sea, and kitchen and smaller veranda at the other end, was entirely windowless. Even if the place hadn’t been built high off the ground, as a protection against floods and prowlers—apparently a common practice around the island—they ought to be safe here from prying eyes. But, somehow, in spite of the heavy grillwork that enclosed every opening, even the downstairs patio, he didn’t feel safe.

  He put a finger to his lips and crawled to the kitchen, where a corner window looked beyond the side of the grilled entry area. Hardly had he raised up to peer out cautiously between the curtains, when he glimpsed the men approaching through the breadfruit trees.

  They were moving slowly, warily. Something about them seemed familiar, but the crowding foliage hid their faces until they were only a few yards from
the steps. Then he stiffened with shock.

  He was not surprised to recognize the shorter man as Josip, the cabin steward. Seeing Josip first, he instantly expected the other to be Peter Pushkin. But it wasn’t Peter. The thin, quiet, gray man was Gus Woolman’s old partner, Wally Gramm.

  Wally Gramm! Seeing the man at this moment was a double shock, for Wally had been in his dream. Now he knew that it must have been Wally who drove Josip from the docks the other day, instead of Peter. But which of them had sent the gunmen—and where was Peter now?

  As he stared at the man, something in his mind did an almost computerlike reassessment of what had happened in New Orleans. And, like a computer, it furnished him with an instant answer. It put Wally and Peter in entirely different roles, and though he couldn’t prove it yet, he was sure the answer was right.

  Wally moved to the steps, halted, and peered carefully around. Then silently he climbed the steps and tested the grill door to the porch. On the ground below him Josip stood quiet and watchful.

  Suddenly Wally Gramm called softly, “Ronnie? Ronnie boy? Let me in! Hurry, I’ve come to help you.”

  Ronnie clutched his hands to keep them from trembling, and glanced back toward the living room. In the dimness beyond the hall he could just make out the pale little triangle that was Ana María Rosalita’s face. Again he put his finger to his lips, saw her nod, and almost jumped out of his skin as Wally Gramm pressed a button by the door, and the kitchen buzzer went off loudly.

  “Ronnie!” the thin man called. “I know you’re here. This is Wally. I’ve come to help you, boy! Let me in!” He waited, pounded on the grill door, and pressed the buzzer several more times. “Ronnie, for heaven’s sake, use your head, boy! I’ve come all this way to help you. Let me in!”

  Wally Gramm stood there more than a minute, listening, then silently went down the steps. On the ground, Josip said in a low voice, “He has to be here, sir. This is the captain’s place, and there was no question but that he was headed for here.”