G. H. Stone: Fatal Error

“Thanks, Uncle Titus.” Jupiter set the coffeepot in the van next to the bottled water, coffee, powdered cream, and sugar packets.

But Uncle Titus was already gone. He’d spotted a customer entering the junkyard with a large cracked vase. The guys heard him exclaim, “What a treasure! Is it for sale?”

Shaking their heads over Uncle Titus’s idea of a treasure, the guys returned to work checking off supplies.

“That does it,” Jupe announced. “We’re ready for the stakeout.” He eyed Pete and Bob. “Last chance for you to call your girlfriends again,” he teased.

“No thanks, turkey,” Bob said ruefully. “One attack of frostbite per morning is all my doctor will allow!”

“Owww!” Pete yelped, and grabbed his ears in mock pain. “Turn the freezer to dee-frost!”

“Come on, you loonies.” Jupiter laughed. “Let’s get rolling.”

Jupiter and Branson Barr took the van, Jupe driving, while Bob and Pete piled into Pete’s car.

“So this is our walkie-talkie?” Branson examined the narrow black box as they drove toward the industrial area of Rocky Beach. Pete and Bob had its mate.

“Yep. I pumped up the power in both of them. We can talk to Bob and Pete even if they’re twenty miles away. That is, if the conditions are right — clear atmosphere and nothing to interfere with line-of-sight transmission.”

“Good thing there aren’t any mountains in Rocky Beach.”

“And it’s a clear day,” Jupe added. “Now, if we can just spot Rome… ”

At Oracle, Jupe parked the delivery van at an angle near the steel gates. Everyone entering or leaving would see it — and Jupe and Branson could count on a good look at them . Since it appeared that Norton Rome had gone in and out of Oracle the day before, the Investigators and Branson Barr were gambling he would do the same today. They planned to stay the entire day if necessary.

Pete and Bob sailed past in Pete’s baby-blue Aries. As they’d agreed earlier, Pete doubled back and parked behind the eucalyptus trees across the street. From there he and Bob could watch everything that happened at the delivery van and give chase when — and if — Norton Rome appeared.

Almost as soon as Jupiter parked, the first car pulled in next to the van. Branson plugged in the coffeepot, and Jupe quickly opened up the back to display the doughnuts and other treats.

“Snax Galore,” read a man in a denim jacket and jeans as he hopped out of his car. He looked in the back of the van and whistled. “My kind of food!” He bought two chocolate-filled croissants.

The customers formed a steady line after that. Jupiter served them, and Branson worked inside where his coworkers couldn’t see him.

“Maybe we should go into business!” Branson said during one of the infrequent lulls.

Jupe nodded, but he was thinking about how long it had been since he’d tasted chocolate. Not to mention real sugar. Or even a muffin . His stomach rumbled, and he reached for his jar of peanut butter. But somehow his hand made a detour… to the chocolate-dipped doughnuts!

“Jupiter!” Branson whispered. “Ek just arrived in his Subaru.”

Jupe snapped his hand back and peered around the van’s door. He caught a glimpse of Ek’s bald head, severe face, and spectacles, then ducked back out of sight.

“Don’t worry,” Branson whispered to Jupiter. He’d ducked down in the front seat. “Ek’s not like the rest of us — doesn’t touch sugar!”

Jupe almost said, “I don’t either!” but then he remembered how close he’d just come… He stared at the goodies still filling three quarters of the boxes, and suddenly he realized he was a dope. After all the calories in peanut butter, one little doughnut wasn’t going to hurt. Again he reached for the chocolate-dipped one…

“Jupiter!” Branson called. “We’ve got more customers.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Jupe grabbed the doughnut and took a huge, satisfying bite. It was just as good as he’d imagined!

The day passed busily. But by five o’clock the boxes were nearly empty, and there was still no sign of Norton Rome or his black pickup.

The mass exodus of Oracle employees began.

“Check every car!” Jupiter said. “Maybe he’s driving something different.” He jumped out of the back of the van to get a better look at all the cars as they left.

“I don’t see how we could’ve missed him,” Branson said worriedly. They studied car after endless car.

Across the street Jupe spotted Pete’s and Bob’s faces among the thick eucalyptus leaves. They looked as discouraged as Jupiter felt. It had been a long, long day.

Just then tires suddenly screeched in the street. A silver Subaru shifted gears and came roaring back to the van’s tail.

“It’s Ek!” Jupiter said, scrambling to get back into the van. “He saw me!”

Branson Barr ducked down in the front seat again. Jupe was just hopping into the back when his Garfield T-shirt was yanked abruptly backward.

“You punk!” Silas Ek said angrily. “We had a deal! Now you’re going to have to come with me!”

“Norton Rome tried to wipe us out yesterday, Mr. Ek,” Jupiter responded angrily. “We have to catch him before he tries again.”

“He what?” Shocked, Silas Ek let go of Jupe.

Jupe told the Oracle security chief how Rome had tried to kill them with his pickup. “Now we’ve got to find Rome,” he finished. “And maybe that will help you.”

Ek stubbornly shook his bald head. “No deal. Okay, I understand you’ve got personal reasons to track him down, but I can’t jeopardize Oracle by helping you… or letting you help us.” He gestured at the delivery van and his voice rose in fury. “It’s good cover. But you’re loitering, and next time I’ll have you arrested! Now pack up and get out!”

The bald security chief waited impatiently with arms crossed as Jupe closed up the van, climbed into the driver’s seat, and took off for the junkyard. As they passed the eucalyptus grove, Pete pulled out behind them and joined the retreat.

“Brother!” Branson said as he sat up in the passenger seat. “I was hoping we could stick around until at least eight o’clock. By then everybody’s gone. Nort and I were the only ones who ever stuck around till midnight.”

Jupe lifted his chin with determination. “We’re going to get Rome yet!”

“Just think, we started out feeling sorry for Rome,” Bob said. “Now it looks like he’s going to bag a cool five mil!”

The sun had set, the stars were out, and Bob, Pete, and Branson Barr had just polished off a giant pizza while Jupe had emptied his peanut butter jar and demolished three bananas. Now Bob, Jupe, and Branson were sitting around the grease pit watching Pete clean up the delivery van. The four were discussing the case.

“Not to mention getting away with blackmail,” Branson added.

“ And attempted murder,” grumbled Pete. “Don’t forget he tried to run us off the road. He should be shot for what he did to my paint job alone.” Pete removed the last bolt from the second Snax Galore sign. “Where is that sleazeball?”

“What are we going to do?” Bob asked Jupe. “Come on, man, you’re the brains. I mean, we can’t just roll over and play dead.”

“We’ve got to do something!” Pete leaped high and executed a powerful tobi-geri kick from the top of his jump.

Suddenly cheers and applause sounded across the dark junkyard.

“Go, Pete, go!” sang Kelly, shaking imaginary pom-poms as she ran into the pool of light around the grease pit.

“You are a lucky man, Bob Andrews. We are going to forgive you,” Elizabeth said as she sailed straight to Bob and smiled sweetly at him.