Nick Carter - Death of the Falcon

“It must have been the Falls,” I agreed, thankful for the increasing noise that was reaching us as we walked on. “I decided to go on while you two looked at the locks. I’m a camera fancier and I thought I might catch up to those Japanese tourists and see what kind of equipment they had with them. They must’ve listened to the one who was so worried about the time, though, because they’re not around, and probably way ahead of us by now. We’ll see them at the lookout point at the Falls.”

By that time, the roar of the water rushing over the cataract ahead was quite loud, then, as we rounded a bend, the full beauty of the huge, steep cascade struck us.

“My God, it’s fantastic,” Sherima exclaimed. “So lovely and so frightening at the same time. Is it always so violent, Nick?”

“No,” I said as we moved up to lean against the metal piping that served as a fence around the lookout spot created by nature and the Park Service. “The water’s high this time of year with the spring thaws. They tell me that sometimes it becomes just a trickle, but that’s pretty hard to believe looking at it now. And from what I remember of my last visit here, the floods seem to have washed away quite a bit of the banks around here.”

“Is there any dang now?” Candy asked, backing away a bit from the guard rail.

“No, I’m sure it’s safe, or there’d be someone from the Park Service to keep us out,” I said. I draped my jacket over the railing, then turned to take her hand and pulled her forward again. “Look, you can see that the water still has quite a way to rise before it gets to here.”

When she — had satisfied herself as to the safety of our vantage point, I called their attention to the other side of the river. “That’s the Virginia side,” I explained. “The land’s higher over there. It forms palisades, something like those on the Hudson across from New York City, only not so steep. There’s a highway along that side, too, and on that sort of plateau over there is a great spot to look down at the rapids. They’ve set up a little picnic grove there, too. Maybe you’ll get a chance to see Great Falls from there some — Hey! Darn it!”

“Oh Nick, your jacket!” Candy cried, leaning over the railing and sadly watching my jacket’s rapid progress through the air and into the water.

I just sighed, and she and Sherima groaned in sympathy as it fell into the water and was carried away on the foaming current below us. While I had drawn their attention to the opposite shore, I had eased the jacket over the guard rail. Perhaps Hawk wouldn’t be too happy that part of any expensive wardrobe had been disposed of so readily, but I wouldn’t have been able to wear it again anyway. Nobody would have believed that the two round, singed holes were the latest in men’s fashions — not even in Texas.

“Oh, Nick, your lovely jacket,” Candy moaned again. “Did you have anything valuable in it?”

“No. Luckily, I carry my wallet and most of my papers in my pants,” I said, displaying the billfold and hoping that they would think the bulge of the Luger on the other side was my “papers.” I added, “It’s a habit I got into in New York City after a pickpocket lifted just about everything I was carrying while I was telling him how to get to Times Square.”

“Nick, I feel responsible,” Sherima said. “You must let me replace it for you. After all, you’re here because. I wanted to see the Falls. I wish now that Abdul’s friend never had suggested it.”

“I’m here because I wanted to be here,” I told her. “And don’t you worry about replacing it; you know how much money we folks in the oil industry throw away on expense accounts, lobbying in Washington.”

She looked at me oddly for a moment, then she and Candy burst into laughter as my smile told them I had been kidding. If only they knew, I thought, just where my expense account came from!

I looked at my watch and said we better start back to the car and go on with our househunting. As we retraced our steps, I said, “I’d hoped that we could have lunch somewhere nice around Potomac, but I reckon that with me in my shirtsleeves, we’ll have to settle for a Big Mac.”

“What’s a Big Mac?” they both asked at once, surprise and amusement mingled in their voices.

“That’s right,” I said, slapping my forehead, “I’d forgotten that the two of you have been out of the country for so long that you’ve never had the taste-treat of the century. Ladies, I promise you that if we can find a McDonald’s you are in for a real surprise.”

They tried to persuade me to tell them the secret of the Big Mac as we walked on, and I persisted with my game, refusing to explain anything further. I kept them involved in that laughing discussion as we passed the section where three corpses littered the underbrush, and they walked by without noticing any hint of the bloodshed that had recently occurred there. We had just reached the bridge where the women had been watching the swirling rock in the pothole when Abdul came charging up to us. I had wondered why he hadn’t shown up earlier, considering his reputed dedication to the role of watchdog, but he had an explanation ready.

“My lady, forgive me,” he begged, almost prostrating himself before Sherima. “I thought you had gone into that building near the parking lot, so I began to check the car’s engine as I had wanted to do before we left. Only minutes ago did I discover that you weren’t there, and I came after you right away. Forgive me.” Again his bow almost touched the ground.

“Oh, Abdul, that’s all right,” Sherima said, taking his arm so that he had to rise. “We’ve been having fun. We just walked to the Falls and back. You should have been along—” Seeing that he had mistaken her meaning, taking it as a reprimand, she hurried on to explain, “No, I mean that you should have been there to see the Falls. They are spectacular, just as your friend told you. And you could have watched Mr. Carter’s jacket float away on the soapsuds.”

He seemed completely mystified by her last words, and by the time she finished explaining my loss to him, we were back at the limousine. He looked at me speculatively as we got into the car, and I decided that he probably was wondering what kind of a careless idiot I was to lose a valuable jacket the way I did, but he only politely expressed his regrets, then got in and started driving back toward Falls Road.

We just had started through Potomac when the little dagger that had been stabbing at my thoughts suddenly made its point: What friend of Abdul’s had told him about Great Falls? He’s never been in this country before. So when did he meet a friend here? Twice, Sherima had mentioned that the suggestion for the side trip to the Falls had been made by that unknown friend, and twice, my brain had registered it, then gone on to other things. I made another mental note to try to find out, either from Candy or through her, just where Abdul had met this acquaintance.

The next couple of hours were spent just driving around the area, allowing Sherima to see the types of estates that dotted it and the rolling countryside that went with them. We had to stop several times as she admired a herd of horses grazing in a pasture, or when she went into rapture over a private steeplechase course that extended almost to the roadside.

We never did find a McDonald’s, so T finally had to tell them about the burger chain and its menu. For lunch, we settled on a little country inn, after I had checked it out to make certain I could be served without a jacket.

I excused myself at one point to go to the men’s room, heading instead for the phone booth I had spotted near the cashier’s desk. I was surprised to find Abdul there before me. He had declined to have lunch with us; when we were inside, Sherima explained that he preferred to prepare his own food, sticking strictly to his religious dietary laws.