The Case of the Vanishing Beauty (11 page)

I heard quick footsteps outside, then something banged twice on the wood. Not a fist; more like a gun.

I tensed myself to grab the door and swing it open as soon as it started to move inward. My heart pounded.

"Shet up!" a voice snarled outside. "What's the trouble?"

He wasn't going to barge inside. I relaxed a little. I backed up a few steps and said, "We're hungry. How about some food? Or do we get starved?"

"Shet up, Scott. You'll get it when we're ready." The footsteps went back down the hall.

I paced the floor and racked my brain. Five minutes went by. Or it could have been half an hour. Footsteps pounded down the hall and I raced over beside the door again. "Room service," the voice said. Then a laugh.

I took a deep breath. I felt good. I felt as if I could tear the house down. I clenched my fists and waited for the door to open. From somewhere in my head came a screwy idea that this was going to be fun.

The door didn't open. Some of the exhilaration went out of me. The voice said, "I'm comin' in. There's a gun in my hand, and if the both of ya aren't in the middle of the room, settin', I start blastin'. Got it? Got it, pal?"

I got it. I walked back over beside Tracy and sat down on the floor.

In a few more seconds a key turned in the lock and the door was suddenly kicked open. One of the twins stood there with one of those small automatics in his hand and his lips peeled back in a wolfish grin. He looked as if all he needed was an excuse to start shooting. Blood hungry. Some of them get that way.

His grin faded a little and he stooped over and picked a tray off the floor, his eyes never leaving us. He carried the tray inside the door with one hand and put it down on the floor.

"One hand," I said. "Heavens to Betsy."

The wolfish grin came back for a moment, then went away. He turned and went outside. The key turned in the lock.

I got up and brought the tray over to Tracy's chair.

"Nice try," she said. "Only it didn't work. Nothing's going to work." Her voice was a little high-pitched and quavering.

"Can it," I said sharply. "We'll get out." I almost believed it.

The food was stew in a cardboard container like milk shakes come in. I should have been starved, but I wasn't hungry enough to eat much. We'd been given paper plates and paper spoons to eat with. The twins weren't missing a beat.

When we'd finished with the stew there didn't seem to be much to talk about. I went over and sat down and leaned up against the wall. I tried adding the logical ways of getting Tracy and me out of here alive and came up with a zero. Nice going. I tried it some more.

Christ, I was tired, My eyelids felt as if they weighed a ton each. I felt as if I couldn't move if the house was on fire. I yawned and blinked my eyes and yawned some more. I yawned for what seemed like ten minutes.

Chapter Nine

MAN! YOU SHOULD have been there. The place was terrific. Right at the end I knew I'd been dreaming, but I still didn't want to leave. Would you leave a Shangri-la where it rained champagne and the rainbow was made out of rubies and diamonds and emeralds and jade and gold? Hell, no. But that was only half of it—the other half. A statuesque blonde wearing a ruby undulated across the green grass toward me.

She said, "Sheldon. I've been waiting for you."

"Great, honey. I been looking all over for you, too."

She frowned. "Please. You mustn't be crude. We are never crude here. Back there," she waved a hand vaguely behind her, "some are crude. But not here."

"Where's here?"

"You don't know?" She was shocked to death. "This is the Inner World."

"Inner World, huh? I've been wondering what it was like." I leered at her. "Not half bad. Where's Narda?"

"He is here. He is everywhere."

"Lucky dog."

"Shhh. You must not speak so of the Master."

O.K. How'd you get here, honey?

"I was converted. Back there," she waved a hand vaguely again, "I was a stripteuse. But I learned the Secret Ritual and was admitted."

"A stripteuse?"

"A stripteuse."

"O.K. Teuse me.
"

She frowned again. "Sheldon. We are not crude here."

She sat down on the velvety green grass, pulled me down at her side, and pillowed my cheek against her soft white breast. Somebody was pulling my arm, but I didn't want to leave. I looked around. There was another one. Her twin. The only difference was that this one wore an emerald.

The emerald pulled vigorously on my arm. She had a soft white breast, too. I couldn't make up my mind whether I liked the ruby better, or the emerald.

I had to leave it all behind. Tracy was shaking my arm. No emerald. I was sprawled out on my side. The soft white breast my cheek was nestled against was the dirty wooden floor.

I sat up. "Hi," I said. Half-remembered visions of jewels and champagne and twins floated through my foggy brain.

I said, "I've just had a look inside me, Tracy. I'm a horrible lecher."

"What are you talking about, Mr. Scott?"

"Dunno. Still asleep."

"What are we going to do, Mr. Scott? What are we going to do?"

"Huh? What time is it?"

"I don't know."

I remembered I had a watch. It said six o'clock. "Good Lord! Did I sleep all day?"

"Oh, a long time. I dozed, myself. What are we going to do, Mr. Scott?"

She had me there. I slapped my face a little to wake myself up, and my jaw damn near fell off. Pain ran up to my skull, lifted it, then slammed it back down on the jagged edges. That was enough to start it all over again. I ran my hand gingerly over the swelling on my face and everything came back to me. I got up and started pacing the room. Tracy sat down in the chair and I looked at it as if I'd never seen it before. An idea started fermenting in my brain. I stole another thought from the dream I'd just had, and the outlook got brighter.

Ten minutes later I walked over to where Tracy was sitting and squatted down beside her.

"I've got an idea. You probably won't like it, but it's the only thing I can think of that might work. Look, kid, you've got a pretty good notion what's going to happen to us, don't you?"

She ran her tongue over her lips and nodded slowly.

I said, "You've been lucky so far, but after last night's developments—and this morning's—there isn't much doubt about what they'll do. They've probably just been waiting till it got dark. It should darn near be dark now. That means anything we pull has to be pulled in a hurry, and we won't get two chances. One break in our favor, those guys didn't tie either of us up. Maybe because they'd like nothing better than an excuse to shoot us both. They're killers, Tracy. All they need is an excuse. That means this thing has to be done right the first time. And you're the star of the show. It sounds nutty, Tracy, but it's the only way I think it might work. Got that?"

"Yes." She was a little scared, but she was game.

"O.K., honey. Here's the play." I gave it to her, then went right back over it again. "All right?"

"All…all right." She smiled wryly and added, "I guess it's better than dying."

I grinned. "Baby, you've got a lot to learn." Then I grabbed her by the shoulder and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, kid. It'll come out O.K."

She got up and I picked up the chair and looked it over. It had a thick seat, with legs about an inch in diameter and glued in. I put the chair bottom-up on the floor and twisted hard on one of the front legs. I pressed down on the seat and heard the crack as the leg broke loose and bent from the seat. I worked on the other front leg and it, luckily, was already loose. I pulled it clear out of the hole where it had been glued, then shoved it loosely back in. I cracked the back part way through—not a clean break—and set the chair down on the floor. It stood up on the busted legs, but it was tilted at about a thirty-degree angle.

"O.K., kid," I said. "Remember this has to be timed right and it has to be fast. We can't give the guy time to stop and think. He's just got to be carried along too fast to figure it out."

She nodded and took off her dress.

I took the dress from her and dropped it on the floor where it would be hidden when the door was open. I kept my back toward Tracy and waited.

"Mr. Scott…Shell."

"Yeah?"

"I can't break it. I…I'm not strong enough."

I turned around. She'd torn the pink slip she'd worn under the dress so that it hung free of her body, dangling from the one unbroken shoulder strap. She had both hands bunched at the center of her brassiere, tugging on it.

I walked over to her and she let her hands drop. I wrapped the fingers of both my hands around the center of the brassiere, gave one quick jerk, and the heavy cloth parted.

I wondered why I'd been calling her kid.

She blushed and the pink glow covered her from her ankles to the roots of her brown hair. I turned my eyes away from her and said, "Sorry, ki—Tracy. This has to be right."

"I know, Shell. It's all right."

I picked up the chair and handed it to her. She grabbed it by the back and lifted it over her head, her back to the door.

I reached up to the light scab that had formed where my own gun had slugged me and scraped it off. Blood crept down over my chin and I smeared my hand in it and rubbed it on my forehead and down the right side of my face. I said, "O.K., Tracy, here we go." I put my fist against my mouth and let out a muffled yell. No words, just noise. I banged my feet against the floor.

The footsteps came charging down the hall. I winked at Tracy. She swallowed twice in succession, rapidly, her eyes staring, her breath coming faster, her lips pressed tightly together.

I scraped my feet on the floor and banged some more. The key clicked in the lock and I nodded to Tracy.

She screamed.

God, how she screamed! It damn near curdled my blood, and I'd been expecting it. The door flew open and I lunged at Tracy.

She came through as if she was living it. Only she made a mistake. She screamed again and rammed the chair down hard on my head. But she misjudged it a little and the heavy seat lit on my scalp. It damn near split my head open, but the chair splintered where I'd cracked it, and twisted in her hands. I got a glimpse of one of the twins leaping through the door with his gun raised and pointing into the room as I crumpled and let myself fall heavily forward on my face.
 

He snarled, "What the hell! Then I heard him take one step toward me and his pointed shoe dug into my ribs. I gritted my teeth together, my head clearing.

Tracy sobbed, "He tried to…" then screamed again.

I heard a masculine voice mutter softly, "Well, whadda ya know? Well, goddamn." I risked opening an eye.

He was standing about a yard from me, but for a second he didn't know I was there. He was partly turned, looking at Tracy, his automatic angled slightly toward the floor.

She had her arms raised high, her fists buried in her hair, sobbing, her shoulders shaking, bare breasts swelling from the shreds of her clothing.

For just a breath he stared at her and stopped thinking; just a moment. For the space of a couple of heartbeats he let his guard down.

It was time enough.

I got my feet under me and was in a half crouch coming up off the floor by the time a startled gasp burst out of his lips and he swung toward me. He didn't have a chance. I got my shoulder behind my fist and came up out of the crouch hard into his stomach. The breath screamed out of his mouth like steam bursting from a safety valve, and his eyes bugged. I slammed my left hand into the thick hair on his head, jerked him up, and smashed my right fist three times into his face. I felt the crunch of his teeth and pain ripped through the back of my hand.

I let go of him and he crumpled
like a soggy scarecrow. I scooped his automatic off the floor as someone raced down the hall outside. I snapped up the muzzle of the gun and started pulling the trigger as the other twin turned in the hall and sprinted in through the doorway with his gun raised.

I fired four times, but I could have saved the last three. The first bullet tore through his throat. Blood spurted from his jugular vein and splattered on the wooden floor. For a second it didn't even slow him down. His momentum carried him halfway across the room; then his feet faltered, and he pitched forward on his face and lay in a pool of spreading crimson.

I grabbed Tracy's dress from behind the door, shoved it under my belt, and started out. Tracy was still standing where she'd been when I climbed off the floor. Her mouth was stretched tight and her eyes were blank, turned toward the body of the dead guy. Her right hand was pressed against the hollow of her throat.

I stepped up to her and slapped her with my left hand.

She jerked her eyes to me and I said, "Come on." She let out her breath in a sigh and ran after me down the hall.

I didn't have any idea what was coming next, but I kept the automatic ready in my right hand as I came to the top of the stairs. I ran down them, turned, and waited for Tracy. She ran down the stairs two at a time, her clothes flying. She came up beside me and I grabbed her hand and pulled her after me.