by W E Johns
It was on one of these stretches that the Viper’s car began behaving in a manner least expected. It slowed down, almost allowing Biggles to catch up with it. At the next downhill run it went on again. This happened three times.
‘What the dickens is he doing?’ said Biggles suspiciously. ‘I smell another trick.’
‘I’d say he’s looking for the right place to stop us,’ surmised Eddie.
‘But why? Why stop us? It’s Cornelli he wants, not us. If he goes on like this he’ll lose him altogether.’
‘So shall we,’ murmured Ginger despondently.
The explanation was forthcoming, and it looked as if Eddie’s guess had been right, when on an unusually long level stretch of road the black saloon ran slowly to a standstill.
‘Now what?’ said Biggles tersely.
‘He’s stopped in the middle of the road so he’s no intention of letting us go past,’ observed Ginger.
Eddie frowned. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘We shall soon know,’ returned Biggles, pulling up behind the saloon, as, since he could not pass, he had to.
By that time the two occupants of the saloon had got out, leaving the doors open. The Viper stood with one foot on the running board, leaning against the body in a nonchalant attitude, calmly picking his teeth with a toothpick of some sort.
Biggles lost no time in dismounting. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ he rasped, for he was really angry.
The Viper’s lips curled in a curious, sardonic, half-apologetic grin. ‘We’re out of gas,’ he stated, almost casually.
So that was it, thought Ginger. Considering the distance the saloon had travelled, unless it had started with plenty of petrol in the tank this seemed not unlikely, although such a possibility had not occurred to any of them. Anyway, he could think of no reason why the car should have stopped unless compelled by mechanical trouble to do so.
Biggles may have thought this, too, but that he was still suspicious was shown when he snapped: ‘You’re lying.’
‘Okay, so I’m lying,’ returned the Viper, smoothly. ‘Look for yourself.’
Biggles declined the invitation. ‘Get off the road.’
‘A car won’t move without gas. It’s time you knew that.’
‘You deliberately blocked the road.’
‘So what are you going to do about it?’
‘Push you off it. This is a public highway. We’re not the only people using it.’
‘Okay. Go right ahead,’ sneered the Viper.
Biggles realized what the gangster had obviously realized. This delay would mean that all hope of catching the Morris had gone; at all events before it reached the main road, when it might turn to the east or the western side of the country. The Viper was evidently satisfied that if he couldn’t overtake Cornelli neither could the Humber. Perceiving the futility of continuing the chase Biggles changed his attitude. He shrugged as if accepting the situation — as indeed he had to — and asked, curiously: ‘What’s your interest in Cornelli?’
‘You mean that double-crossing son-of-a-bitch who calls himself Cornelli,’ corrected the Viper, viciously.
‘How do you know his name isn’t Cornelli?’ inquired Biggles, seeking any information that might be useful.
‘How do I know? Like a mug I fixed his phony passport for him. That’s how I know.’
‘Well?’
‘He owes us ten grand.’
Biggles stared. This was news. ‘For what?’
‘The money didn’t belong to him. It belonged to all of us. He knew where it was. He lifted it and skipped with the lot. He’s not getting away with that.’
‘What else?’
‘There was the kid.’
‘What about the kid?’
‘The play was he should get him and we’d all share what his pop would pay to have him back; instead of which he went off on his own, taking the kid with him. We’ll get him.’
‘I see,’ said Biggles, slowly, thinking this sounded like the truth.
The Viper went on. ‘You’re asking a lot o’ questions, mister. What’s your angle?’
‘As a matter of fact I’m a police officer,’ replied Biggles, evenly.
‘So that’s it! You’re a cop. But you ain’t got nothing on us,’ said the Viper, sharply.
‘I didn’t say I had. If I had you’d have been under arrest before this. I’m not interested in Cornelli. The Federal Police will no doubt deal with him in due course. All I want is the boy, before he comes to any harm. He’s not safe with Cornelli.’
‘Are you telling me?’ The Viper put his toothpick away, and cleverly flicking a cigarette from a pack, lit it. ‘Well, now we know how we stand,’ he went on. ‘You’d got us guessing. So you’re a cop. Well, that’s okay with me. What you aim to do now?’
‘Push your car out of the way and move on.’
‘What about us?’
‘What about you?’
‘You ain’t goin’ to leave us here on this goddam prairie.’
‘What do you expect me to do — give you a lift?’
‘Sure.’
‘Forget it.’
‘Then give us some gas, enough to get some place.’
‘You’ve got a nerve. I haven’t any spare, and wouldn’t give it to you if I had.’
‘Then give us a tow to the top o’ the next hill. Mebbe we could cruise on to some place where we could get gas.’
‘Nothing doing. Unless you want to stay here all night you’d better start walking. Another car may come along, but as you may have noticed, traffic on this road isn’t exactly jamming itself up.’ As he finished speaking Biggles advanced purposefully to the black saloon. ‘Come on, you fellows. Give it a push,’ he told the others. ‘Ginger, you get to the wheel of our car and don’t leave it. Bring it through as soon as we’ve made room.’
‘Okay.’
The Viper’s thin lips came together in a hard line and his eyes glinted dangerously. ‘You know, mister, it’s lucky for you I lost my gun, and my pal had his took off him when we came through your Customs office. Mebbe I’ll have one next time we meet.’
‘Maybe I’ll have one, too,’ returned Biggles.
Ginger now understood why the Viper’s companion had not made a move, or taken part in the argument. He was unarmed. It may have been that the two gangsters thought Biggles’s party carried guns. They were not to know otherwise. Fist fighting, two against four, apparently did not appeal to them. At all events, neither made any attempt to prevent their car from being manhandled off the road on to the heather. They stood aside, smoking, watching the operation with dead-pan expressions. Not another word was spoken. As soon as the gap was wide enough to get through, Ginger took the Humber on a little way. The others got in. Ginger drove on, leaving the gangsters, standing beside their car, staring after them.
‘Pity about that,’ said Biggles, after a minute. ‘There’s no need to hurry now. The Morris must be miles away, and we haven’t a clue as to which way it’s likely to go.’
Twilight was beginning to close in by the time they reached the main road.
Ginger stopped at the junction. ‘Now which way?’ he asked. ‘Do we turn left or right?’
‘I don’t think it matters,’ answered Biggles. ‘Still, I can’t see any point in racing haphazard round the West Coast over roads we don’t even know. We should probably end up by running out of petrol ourselves and spending the night in the car. Cornelli has the whole of Scotland to choose from. Now that he knows for certain the Viper is hot on his trail he might even carry right on to London in the hope of giving him the slip in the crowd.’
‘Well, what’s it to be?’
‘I think we might as well go back to Inverness and stay the night there. That’ll give us time to think things over. We shall have to spend the night somewhere and the nearer we are to Dalcross and the aircraft the better, in case we should decide to fly back home in the morning. I’ll have a word with Gaskin as soon as I can get hold
of him on the phone. Has anyone else any ideas?’
No one spoke.
‘Okay.’ Ginger turned left and started back along the scenic road that keeps in close touch with Scotland’s best-known loch, Loch Ness, for its entire length. Not much of it could be seen, for dusk was now dimming the picture.
‘Are you taking the car to the hotel or back to the garage?’ inquired Ginger, as they crossed the bridge into the town.
‘To the hotel. It’s unlikely there’ll be anyone at the garage at this hour. We’ll take the car back in the morning, unless we decide to use it again.’
‘It looks as if we shall have to start the whole business afresh,’ remarked Eddie, despondently.
‘That’s the way these things go.’
‘After a promising start it’s been a wasted day.’
‘Not altogether. We know why the Viper’s looking for Cornelli. Don’t worry. There’s always tomorrow. If we’re temporarily stumped, so is the Viper,’ Biggles reminded them. ‘His chances of picking up the trail are even lower than ours. We at least have Gaskin to fall back on. He has no one but himself.’
‘That’s something,’ agreed Eddie, without enthusiasm, as the car ran to a stop outside the hotel.
CHAPTER 9
IT was at breakfast the following morning, a little after nine o’clock, when Biggles had the first of a series of shocks.
The others were at the table when he joined them after being for some minutes on the telephone to Scotland Yard. ‘I’ve had a talk with Gaskin,’ he said. ‘He knows what has happened. I’ve given him the number of the blue Morris and he’s having all roads into London, from the north, watched.’
‘Why London?’ asked Ginger.
‘He can’t get watchers on every road in the country in five minutes. He’s putting out a general call, but he agrees with me that if Cornelli is leaving Scotland sooner or later he’ll make for London. Of course, he could get back to the States from Prestwick, but I can’t see him doing that.’
The others agreed.
As the waiter put Biggles’s plate of bacon and eggs in front of him he remarked: ‘That was a funny business on the Road to the Isles last night, sir.’
‘Indeed,’ replied Biggles, not particularly interested. Then the name of the road struck his memory and he asked sharply: ‘Why, what happened?’
‘Mr Macpherson, of the Forestry Commission at Invergarry, was knocked down and had his car stolen. We don’t often get that sort of thing here. Everyone’s talking about it.’
Biggles put down his knife and fork. ‘Tell me what happened. We were on that road last night.’
‘Then you may have seen Mr Macpherson’s jeep.’
‘We saw a jeep. What’s all this about?’
The waiter was willing to talk about the subject uppermost in his mind, as are most people when the news is local. ‘It seems that Mr Macpherson went over the road to Cluanie to give orders to some foresters he has working there. On his way back he was stopped by two men, strangers they were, walking along the road. It was after dark and he couldn’t see them very well. He was alone in the car, and thinking the men wanted a lift he stopped to pick them up. The men knocked him down and took the jeep, leaving him to walk all the way home to his house at Invergarry. I don’t know what things are coming to. You can’t trust anyone these days.’
‘What about the jeep? Has it been found?’
‘No. It has disappeared. The police are looking for it.’
‘Is that all you know?’
‘That’s all, sir. I thought you might be interested if you intended going that way.’
‘Thank you.’
The waiter retired.
‘So the Viper didn’t walk home last night after all,’ Biggles said softly, looking at the others in turn.
‘That sure sounds like the Viper,’ surmised Eddie.
‘I think we shall have to tell the police what we know,’ went on Biggles. ‘I wish I’d known about this a few minutes ago. I’d have told Gaskin. Not that it’s particularly important. It’s Cornelli, not the Viper, I want.’
‘How did you leave things with Gaskin?’ asked Bertie.
‘He said if he had any news he’d ring me here. I told him if I’d heard nothing by twelve noon I’d probably fly back to London to see him.’
‘But look here, old boy. Even if Cornelli had driven straight on last night he wouldn’t have got to London yet. He’d have to stop several times, if only for petrol.’
‘I realize that. So does Gaskin. But the Morris could have got as far as Scotch Corner, just south of Darlington, where the two main roads from Scotland to London meet. There’s a hotel there. Cornelli might stop for food or a rest. He wouldn’t try to do the five hundred and fifty miles without a break. Gaskin has a man watching Scotch Corner so he should see the Morris whichever road Cornelli takes. If he sees it he’ll phone Gaskin and Gaskin will phone me here. If that should happen we shall at least know which way the bird has flown, and it won’t be necessary to hang about here any longer. Meanwhile, as we’re not likely to need it again we might as well take the Humber back to the garage. There’s no sense in paying for it if we’re not going to use it. There’s no great hurry. We shall have to stay here till twelve in case Gaskin comes through. You stand fast to take the call while I slip round to the police station and tell them who was probably responsible for the hold-up on the Invergarry road last night.’
Biggles went off. When, a little later, he came back, he was told Gaskin had not rung up. ‘I’ve given the police a description of the Viper and his pal,’ he told the others. ‘I couldn’t do less. I didn’t tell them more than was necessary. I mean, I didn’t say anything about us being involved. Well, it’s twelve o’clock. Let’s take the car back to the garage.’
There a second shock awaited them, one which for a moment left Biggles speechless. Standing on the concrete apron by the petrol pumps was the blue Morris. That it was the Morris was proved by its number.
Smiling, the garage proprietor came over to them.
Biggles groped for words. He pointed at the Morris. ‘How did that get here?’
‘You’ve just missed your friends again,’ he was told.
‘You mean Mr Cornelli?’
‘Aye. I told him you were looking for him.’
‘When did he bring the car back?’
‘About two hours ago.’
‘Why did he bring it back? I understood you to say he’d bought it.’
‘So he did. But he rang me up early this morning and said urgent business at home had called for a change of plan. It meant he’d have to cut short his holiday. He wanted to know if I’d buy the car back from him. I said yes, provided it hadn’t been damaged. I offered to give him what he’d paid for it less a few pounds for the time he’d had the use of it. He said he’d bring it over right away. He did, and he must have travelled fast.’
‘Where did he phone from?’
‘Fort William.’
‘How far away is that?’
‘Sixty-six miles. He did it in well under two hours.’
‘Was he here long?’
‘No. Only a few minutes. He said he was in a hurry to get on home. I was waiting with the money. I had a look over the car, paid him, and off he went.’
‘Did he say where he was going?’
‘No. He walked off into the town and that was the last I saw of him.’
‘Thank you. I’m much obliged.’ Biggles forced a smile. ‘Bad luck just missing him again.’ He paid for the hire of the Humber and turned away.
‘Gaskin will be getting severely browned off with me,’ he said wearily, as they walked towards the hotel. ‘Here he is, watching the roads for a car that’s been under our noses all the time.’
‘Can you beat it?’ muttered Eddie. ‘Who would have thought he’d come back here?’
‘I certainly wouldn’t, for one.’
‘Why did he?’
‘Apparently to sell the car. It would be worth a
few hundred pounds and he wouldn’t want to lose too much money on the resale. I imagine he thought he’d get a better price from the man from whom he’d bought it than from anyone else. Apart from that, the man knew him, and the car. Cornelli might have found it difficult to sell the car anywhere else. He may have tried. You can’t just drive up to a stranger and say, “How much will you give me for this car?” With so many cars being stolen most garages today want to know a few things about the car — and the man who’s trying to sell it.’
‘Cornelli must have turned to the right, last night, when we turned to the left to come back to Inverness,’ remarked Ginger.
‘I don’t think we need blame ourselves for that. It would have been a waste of time to look for him in the dark, when one car looks much like another. For all we knew he might have gone on to Glasgow before he stopped. But we needn’t waste time talking about that now.’
‘He rang up from Fort William.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily mean he spent the night there. What if he did? He’s succeeded in giving everyone the slip. That car was our only clue.’
‘Why did he sell it?’
‘Either he didn’t want a car any more, or, what’s more likely, he decided that particular one was too hot for him. It was too conspicuous. He knew the Viper must have seen it on the road beside Loch Ness. He also knew he was being followed last night when he doubled back to Invergarry. No, he couldn’t get rid of that Morris fast enough.’
By this time they were back at the hotel. There was no message from Inspector Gaskin.
‘So what do we do next?’ asked Eddie, in a melancholy voice.
‘Without having the least idea of where Cornelli might be I feel like flying back to London and having a word with Gaskin.’
‘Hadn’t you better ring him up to tell him to call off his watch for the Morris?’ suggested Ginger.
‘It would be nearly as quick to fly to London when we could explain the whole miserable business. I’ll pay the bill here and we’ll move off.’
‘Seems sorta tough, having to give up, having been so close to ‘em,’ remarked Eddie morosely.
‘I didn’t say anything about giving up,’ returned Biggles, shortly. ‘One of you go out and get a taxi while I settle up here.’
