William Johnston: Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair

A short while later, they reached the lounge car. There, at the far end, they spotted the big, fat, evil-looking man in the dark glasses. He was seated in a lounge chair and surrounded by nearly a dozen other evil-looking men in dark glasses-some fat, some thin and some just right. The object of their chase seemed to be holding court. One or another of the men would speak to him, then he would reply. And when he was talking all the others remained silent and attentive.

“Well, is there any doubt in your mind who the big, fat man in the dark glasses is, 99?” Max said. “That’s Arbuthnot. He’s the Great Teacher. And those are his students. I think we’ve found the location of the meeting. It’s being held right here on this train. Now, I’ll just rub this Coolidge-head penny and we’ll-”

“Max,” 99 broke in, “don’t you think we ought to be a little more positive before we have the Chief send a squad of Control agents to take these men into custody? Suppose that isn’t Arbuthnot? And suppose those aren’t-”

“All right, 99” Max said. “I have never been so sure of anything in my life. But, since, technically, I suppose, we’re still on our honeymoon and I’m humoring you, I’ll squander a little time and prove to you that I’m right. Now-see those two empty chairs near that group of men? Well, you and I will saunter over there and then we’ll occupy those seats and we’ll eavesdrop on the conversation. Okay?”

“Yes, Max.”

99 sauntered to the far end of the car and then sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs near the group of men that Max had identified as KAOS assassins. When she was seated, Max, still flipping the coin, moved toward her. He had taken only one step, however, when he missed the Coolidge-head penny and it fell in the aisle and then rolled under a chair that was occupied by a little old white-haired lady.

Max got down on his hands and knees and peered under the chair. The little old lady, misunderstanding, whacked him on the back of the head with her purse.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Max apologized, rising and rubbing the back of his head, “but I lost a valuable coin under your chair. I wonder if you would mind getting up for a minute?”

The little old lady cupped a hand around an ear. “What’s that you just lied to me?” she shouted. “I don’t hear good.”

Max glanced around. The lounge car was crowded and everyone was staring at him. He faced back to the little old lady. “I said I lost a penny under your seat!” he told her, speaking loudly. “Would you stand up?”

“I can’t stand the heat, either!” she shouted. “But it’s not hot enough in here to make a big, strappin’ boy like you go faint and fall in the aisle. Get along with you, now, or I’ll break open your skull with my purse and let the sawdust fall out!”

“You may have that purse full of sawdust, but it certainly didn’t feel like it when you hit me,” Max shouted back. “And if you use it on me once more, I’ll kick you right in the shins-I don’t care if you are a hard-of-hearing old hen with white hair!”

The little old lady smiled apologetically. “Why didn’t you say you dropped a penny under my chair,” she chided. “Go ahead and get it-I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Max said.

As soon as he had retrieved the Coolidge-head penny, Max joined 99, seating himself beside her and near the alleged KAOS assassins.

“No matter how it turns out otherwise, this trip is a success for me already,” he whispered to 99. “I finally found out how to handle little old white-haired ladies. You have to threaten to kick them in the shins.” He glanced toward the group of men in dark glasses. “Are you convinced yet?” he asked.

“Not exactly, Max,” 99 replied. “Listen to what they’re saying.”

Max leaned toward the group of men.

“Sir,” one of the thin, evil-looking men said to the big, fat evil-looking man, “all the yo-yo industry wants to do is make the men in the Army happy. We don’t care anything about selling yo-yos. We’d be happy to give these yo-yos to the men in the armed services, except that if we didn’t make a profit, we couldn’t pay our taxes, could we? And if we didn’t pay our taxes, where would the government get the money to pay the men in the armed services? So, do you see what I’m getting at?”

“Well. . ‘round-about, yeah,” the big fat, evil-looking man replied. “But ’splain it to me, anyways.”

“All the yo-yo industry wants you to do-as Chairman of the Committee on Army Purchasing-is to pressure the Chief of Staff to buy our yo-yos for three-hundred dollars a dozen. That way, we’ll make a bigger profit, and-if we’re caught-we’ll pay higher taxes, and, unless it’s used for something else, like raising Senators’ salaries, there will be more money to pay the men in the armed services. Get it?”

“I don’t know- do I get it?” the big, fat, evil-looking man asked. “And, if I do, what percentage?”

“Ten per cent, sir?”

“That’s fine. Just send the check to my favorite charity-the Society for the Preservation of the Coonskin Cap. Make it out to my wife-she’s the head coonskin.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Sir,” another thin, evil-looking man said, “we in the skinless frankfurter business have an old saying. It goes: What’s good for the yo-yo industry is good for the skinless frankfurter industry. Now, keeping that in mind. .”

Max leaned back toward 99. “Are you convinced?” he asked. “Shall I rub the Coolidge-head penny now?”

“Max! Those aren’t KAOS assassins! After hearing that conversation, don’t you know who they are? That big, fat, evil-looking man in the dark glasses is a senator. And all those other evil-looking men in dark glasses are lobbyists.”

Max glanced again toward the group. “You mean men who try to get senators and representatives and other people in government to do special favors for them?” he said. He turned back to 99. “That’s terrible! I didn’t think they were serious.” He shook his head. “I find that hard to believe, 99. He doesn’t look like a senator to me.”

“Of course not, Max-he’s wearing dark glasses. But, if you don’t believe me, ask him.”

“I will,” Max said. He moved his chair closer to the group, then broke in on the conversation. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, addressing the big, fat, evil-looking man, “but my wife and I are having a disagreement-”

“Bring it around when it’s born, and I’ll kiss it on the forehead,” the fat man said. “That’s the worst thing about being a statesman-all that baby-kissing.”

“No, I mean we have a difference of opinion. You see, I think you’re Arbuthnot, the international assassin and Great Teacher, and my wife thinks you’re just another corrupt politician. Which one of us is correct?”

“You’re both wrong,” the big, fat, evil-looking man replied. “I’m not ‘just another’ corrupt politician. Why, I’m famous from coast to coast and border to border for my corruptionness.”

“Oh. . well, I guess that answers my question,” Max said. “I’m sorry I slighted you by calling you ‘just another’ corrupt politician. Are you on Senate business now?”

“Yup. I’m headin’ down to Miami Beach to investigate all them terrible slum conditions in New York City,” the big, fat, evil-looking man replied.

“But, New York City is up North,” Max pointed out.

“I know that,” the Senator said. “But, what can I do? South is the way the train’s headed.”

Max moved his chair back to where it was before. “You’re wrong, 99,” he said. “That’s not Arbuthnot, the international assassin, it’s just another corrupt politician.”

“Max, that’s what I said. You’re the one who said it was Arbuthnot.”