Donald Hamilton: The Ravagers

"Gaston Muir," Mac said. "French Harbor. I'll see what reaction it brings. This is what Ruyter told the little girl?"

I said, "If you call a teenager a little girl, you're apt to get a poke in the eye, sir. But, yes, if she's telling the truth, and I think she is up to a point, this is the dope Ruyter wanted Penny to pass on to her mother. Mrs. Drilling was to come to French Harbor properly equipped-I presume this means with the papers. She was supposed to make contact with either Ruyter himself or this Muir character at a certain waterfront joint at six o'clock in the evening the day after tomorrow-well, that's tomorrow, now. In case of emergency, say if she couldn't make it, she was supposed to get word to Muir by way of the general store, leaving a certain innocuous message. The kid wouldn't tell me the code. She balked there, and I figured I'd got enough for the time being without getting really rough."

"I see. Tomorrow evening, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you think Mrs. Drilling will go through with it in spite of the changed situation?"

"I think she has no choice, sir. And in order to buy her way to safety, she's got to bring the papers as instructed. Ruyter's friends may possibly help her get away without Ruyter, but not without the stuff. She's got to have something to bargain with." I paused for breath. "What it amounts to, sir, is that we've lost one of our carrier pigeons, but with a little luck the message may still get delivered if we can all stay out of jail until tomorrow night. That's up to you. I've got some seven-eight hundred miles still to go, and I'm not going to be able to do much hiding and dodging if I'm to stick to Ruyter's timetable. Nor am I in any position to outrun the Canadian cops, with forty horsepower and two lady passengers. Somebody's damn well got to tell them to look the other way as we go by."

There was a little silence. I didn't venture to guess which way he'd decide. Even if he thought there was a chance of retrieving the mission, he might feel that the fumblewitted agent on the spot was just too damn incompetent to take advantage of it-and he'd have a point.

He said at last, "It will take a good deal of delicate diplomatic maneuvering to arrange a safe-conduct for you through three provinces, Eric, when the charge is murder. I don't really know if it can be done, without causing disastrous comment."

I said, "They shot each other, Fenton and Ruyter. At least I set it up that way. The authorities don't have to believe it, but they can pretend they do for a day or two. That way they're only looking for some missing witnesses. They don't have to look too hard."

"And how do you propose to handle a certain Mr. Johnston, who is presumably on the vengeance trail, or will soon be?"

"You handle him, sir. Have somebody call him off. For questioning about his partner's death, say."

"I can only make suggestions and recommendations. I have no authority over his department."

"No, sir."

"If I should fail in my efforts to have him withdrawn-"

I waited a little and said, "Yes, sir?"

"I hope you have no tender, brotherly feelings for the gentleman, such as you seem to have had for his youthful associate."

"No, sir."

"There is also the little girl-excuse me, the young lady. She may prove to be a nuisance. Since you do not seem to understand indirect orders, Eric, I will give them to you directly: If she, or anyone else, should again threaten the success of this mission, you will arrange for them to have an immediate accident, preferably fatal. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

I said, "Yes, sir."

He went on: "We were not assigned to this job to be nice to little girls, or to clumsy young operatives from other bureaus; quite the contrary. Being nice to people is not our business. If you simply have to be nice, Eric, I will refer you to a very pleasant gentleman who recruits for the Peace Corps. You're a little over the age, I believe, but I will be glad to give you the highest recommendations. Maybe they will make an exception for you, since you obviously have the good of all humanity at heart."

"Yes, sir."

"That's all. I'll see what can be done at this end."

"Yes, sir."

I heard the connection being broken. I let my breath out softly. Well, I'd had it coming. And he was letting me go on, and even backing me, and I've been reamed out before. It could have been worse. But I still took off my hat and dried my forehead with my handkerchief as I went back to the car.

I made kind of a production of it, in fact. My harem, suddenly busy with comb and lipstick-you wouldn't have known they'd said a word to each other all the time I was gone-looked at me questioningly as I got in, still mopping my brow.

I said, "Phew. That was my boss in Denver. The F.B.I. has already been at him. He's washing his hands of me, he says. He wants no part of murder, particularly a murder tied in with something as big as this. That's the way he put it." I looked at Jenny in the semi-darkness. "What the hell have you got me into, Irish?" She didn't speak, and I said, "Well, whatever it is, you're going to get me out, hear? Clear out of the country. The kid's already told us where to go. French Harbor. But you're the girl who's going to tell us where to pick up our steamboat tickets. Right now."

Jenny licked her lips. "What do you mean?"

I said, "Don't act dumb, doll. Everybody's after something, something big, and you've got it or know where it is. Well, I want it. Your pal Ruyter had a getaway all arranged, but his friends aren't going to be happy about smuggling a stranger out of the country. Only, they aren't going to get what they want unless they do, understand? Because you're going to give it to me, not to them."

"Are you… are you threatening me, Dave?"

I laughed. "Cut it out, doll. I gave you a chance to play it smooth and nice-chivalry, romance, and the works- and you tried to run out. Now we're just two crooks on the lam, and I'm lots bigger than you, and lots tougher. And if you don't think I can learn every last thing you know, just try me." I grimaced. "Take my word for it. Now or half an hour from now, you'll talk. I didn't become a private op because I had a weak stomach, and my life's at stake. You can talk in one piece or you can talk all busted up. That's the choice."

The kid spoke from the back seat. "He means it, Mummy! You know he means it! Tell him!"

Jenny said, "Dave, do you know what it is you're asking for?"

I said, "No, and I don't give a damn. Just so it's valuable enough to somebody that they'll help me out of this mess you've got me into, and maybe throw in a little cash on the side."

"It's… some scientific information about a certain project of my husband's, a very secret U.S. government project."

"So what?" I laughed sharply. "Irish, you're not going to get on the patriotism kick at this late date? Jeez, look who's talking!"

She was silent. I waited. The kid stirred in back but didn't speak. Jenny drew a long breath and said, "Inverness."

It was no time to be hasty. I was David Clevenger. I wouldn't know where a lousy little mining town in Nova Scotia was located. Matt Helm might, but not Dave Clevenger. I got out a road map, reached up to switch on the dome light by my left ear, and checked the index.

"Inverness, J-6," I said. "Here we are, just down the coast from French Harbor. Irish, you might even be telling the truth. Where in Inverness?"

She hesitated only briefly. "The post office."

"I see. You mailed it to yourself. Bright girl. Under what name?" She paused again, and I said irritably, "Don't make me do my tough act all over again, damn it! Haven't I convinced you I mean it?"

Jenny glanced at the girl in the back seat, as if for advice or, maybe, moral support. Penny said quickly, "Go on, Mummy! Please tell him. After all, we're all in this together, aren't we? We need his car and his help to get there, don't we?"