He swung the beam of the light to right and left and picked up no one. Shouted commands from around the corner of the house made it evident that all forces were converging upon the side terrace to be organized into a searching party. Without even bothering to deploy to the rear of the garage, he struck off to the right, made his way through the collection of cars parked on the graveled space, found a gap in the hedge, and a little farther on ran smack into a patch of briars. He got around it without using the light, found himself among white birches which had not been trimmed to head height, and in another two minutes emerged from that into what he took to be an orchard, since round things that he stepped on proved to be apples. The shouts from the direction of the house were now much fainter, barely audible. He bore right, going at a good pace, with a hand guarding his face after he got a twig in the eye, and when he stumbled onto the stone fence which bordered the road he turned left and followed the fence. In a hundred paces suddenly there was no fence, and his hands found the bars that were the gate to the lane. He slipped through, went cautiously not to bump into the car...
But there was no car.
He stepped down the little incline to the road and back up again. This was a let-down. Could this be the wrong lane? From up the road he could hear voices raised; since they were at the Dundee house, the distance seemed about right. He proceeded to settle the point by switching on the light and flashing it around — yes, there was the curve, there was the bush at the right — and there, perched on the stone fence, was a man — no, a boy, gazing into the light.
“Hello,” Hicks said, turning the light off and approaching the fence. “I didn’t know you were there. What’s your name?”
“My name’s Tim Darby. Are you a dick?”
“I am not,” Hicks said emphatically. He was close enough to the boy to see that he had eyes and a mouth. “My name’s Al Hicks. How long have you been here? I mean sitting here.”
“Oh, I’ve been here for a considerable time. You’re not a cop, because you haven’t got a uniform.”
“No, I’m just a man. The reason I asked, I left my car here and now it’s gone. Somebody must have stolen it, and I thought maybe you saw them. Did you see a car here?”
“Sure I saw a car here. I live right down the road.”
“Did you see it go away?”
“Well, I—” That was as far as Tim got.
“You see,” Hicks explained, “if I knew what time it was taken it might help. I wouldn’t expect you to squeal on anyone. All I want is to get my car back.”
“You’re a liar,” the boy said. “It’s not your car, it’s one of Dundee’s cars. The Cadillac sixty-one. I’ve rode in it with Miss Gladd often and Ross too. And you’re a double liar because your name’s not Hicks!”
“Why isn’t my name Hicks?”
“Because it isn’t! You’re not so smart. Because he couldn’t—” Tim stopped abruptly.
“You’re wrong, Tim,” Hicks asserted. “I’m no more a liar than I am a dick or a cop. When I said it was my car I merely meant I was driving it. That’s a manner of speaking. You know that. I drove that car here from New York this evening. Now about the name. I’m astonished that you call me a double liar when I say my name is Hicks, because you look pretty intelligent. This evening around eight o’clock you were with a bunch of people around a cop up at the Dundee entrance. Weren’t you?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Sure you were. I saw you. Didn’t a man go up to that cop and say his name was Hicks?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Wasn’t that man me?”
“How can I tell? I can’t see you.”
“I beg your pardon.” Hicks turned on the light and aimed it at his own face. “What about it? Am I that man?”
“Yes, you are.”
“Well, do you think I was lying to the cop too, when I told him my name? Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” Tim sounded stubborn. “But—”
“But what?”
“I’ve got my reasons.”
“I know you have. I knew you had reasons when you were so positive I was lying about my name. And I’ll bet I know what they are.”
“I’ll bet you don’t!”
“I’ll bet I do. You’re a friend of Miss Gladd, aren’t you? Since you go riding with her?”
“I sure am.”
“Okay, so am I. I’ll bet she took that car, which of course she had a right to do. I’ll bet she stopped at your house and asked you to come and stay here, and gave you a message for a man named Hicks when he showed up, and told you to be mighty careful not to give the message to anybody else. And that was your idea of being mighty careful, telling me I was a liar when I said my name was Hicks. Now you know my name is Hicks, so you can give me the message. Huh?”
“But you sent the message!” the boy blurted. “It was signed ABC, but she told Ross it was from Alphabet Hicks!”
On account of the dark, there was no necessity for Hicks to control his gape of surprise. It delayed his reply a second, however.
“You say,” he demanded, “she told Ross that?”
“Sure she did! When she was telling him to get out of the car. She didn’t want him to go with her.”
“Tim, look here.” Hicks put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m not a liar, and I’m a friend of Miss Gladd’s. Get that straight. Okay?”
“Okay. But—”
“No buts. Miss Gladd is in danger. I didn’t send her any message. If she got a message signed ABC it was a fake. It was from someone who wants to hurt her, maybe kill her. How did she get the message? Who brought it to her?”
The boy had slid off the fence. “But gee, I don’t—”
“Who brought it to her?”
“I did.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Mom took it on the phone. He — you telephoned—”
“I did not telephone. It was a fake. What did he say?”
“He said she was to drive to Crescent Road and he was in a car parked half a mile beyond Crescent Farm. License JV 28.”
“JV?”
“Yes. And Ross said—”
“Where was Ross?”
“He was sitting here in the car with her.”
“How did you know she was here?”
“He said on the phone. He said she’d be here in the car and she was, only he didn’t say anything about Ross, only Ross is all right. He said he didn’t think it was from you.”
“He was right. Did Ross go with her?”
“Sure. He wouldn’t get out. He’s nuts about her.”
“How long ago did they leave?”
“Well, I must have sat—”
“About how long?”
“I guess it must have been about ten minutes before you came. Maybe fifteen.”
“Where is Crescent Farm?”
“Over on Crescent Road. If you go straight on past Dundee’s, you take the first right, about a mile and a half, and on through Post’s Corners about two miles. There’s a lot of barns and a big white chicken house, on the right.”
“Is there a car at your house?”
“Yeah, but it’s not there, my dad works nights. Only Aunt Sadie’s car’s there, she came over on account of the excitement. Listen, if this is a plot you don’t need to worry Miss Gladd will get hurt, because Ross is with her and he’ll fight like a tiger. He’s strong. Once—”
“That’s fine, but I’ll go and see. Where’s Aunt Sadie’s car?”
“Over in the yard.”
“Come along and show me.”
“Sure.”
As they went down the road Hicks explained:
“No matter how strong Ross is, Miss Gladd might get hurt. So I want to get there as quick as I can. Would Aunt Sadie let me use her car if I asked her? What’s she like?”