"What?"
"There are no doubts," I said. "Not any longer."
He regarded me sharply. "What do you mean?"
"You can rest easy, sir. She didn't stay long enough to hear anything interesting," I said. "I think she wanted to, but apparently she was running short of time, so she just stuck me with my own hypodermic, stole your little boat, and disappeared."
His first concern, not surprisingly, was for his boat rather than my health. He looked quickly towards the dock. "She took the Whaler?" Then he frowned quickly. "If she was going to steal a boat, why didn't she take yours? It's bigger and faster."
I said, "You don't see it down there, do you, sir? I didn't bring it. I didn't figure I wanted to lose it, after hauling it clear across the country, so I came by car."
He started to speak angrily. Then he checked himself and drew another long breath. "Arthur said you were clever. And conscienceless."
"I had a good teacher in both subjects, sir."
"You seem to be in reasonable shape for a man who's had a hypodermic needle poked into his hide."
"There was plain water in the hypo," I said. "I emptied the vial yesterday-there wasn't much left-and put in half a cc, enough for one dose, from the tap. One clear, colorless liquid looks pretty much like another."
He said rather grimly, "You had it all figured out, did you, Helm?"
"Pretty, close, I hope. She's a fairly predictable girl in some respects," I said. "She had three problems. The first was obtaining a certain vital piece of information. Well, we fed her that this morning, according to instructions. Your timing was very good, sir, and she couldn't possibly have missed overhearing our little discussion over the chart, although of course she had to go through the motions of pretending that she still had no idea where her daddy was hiding and it was mean and suspicious of me not to tell her. Her second problem was how to slip away from me so she could convey this information to her new friends."
"You're certain she's in touch with Leonard?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "She called a certain number in Washington a few days ago. Obviously, she made some kind of deal with Herbie, and obviously he told her to stick with me and play it cagey until she'd learned exactly where the hideout was located down here. Having got the information this morning, she then had to keep me happy and unsuspicious until she could put me out of action long enough to give herself a good running start. I was sticking too close for her just to walk out the door; I'd have been on the trail too soon."
"How did you know she'd use the drug on you, instead of something more drastic and permanent?"
I shrugged. "I've just been through a crash course in Martha Borden, sir. I ought to be able to guess her reactions by this time. She could have tried to steal my gun or borrow one from Leonard, of course, but she doesn't believe in shooting people, and guns are pretty noisy, anyway. She could have got the billy I've been using in the boat to keep big fish from flopping all over the cockpit, but knocking a man on the head would be, I figured, another act of violence against her principles. She'd seen me use the drug kit twice. She'd seen me put it away in a secret compartment in my suitcase. There really wasn't much doubt about what weapon she'd pick if 1 made it easy for her. Her final problem was transportation. I gave her a choice between my car and your boat. She picked the boat. That means her rendezvous with Leonard is close to the water or on it; perhaps another boat. Unless she sinks the Whaler-"
"She'd have to fill it with rocks. They're practically unsinkable."
"Then by this time-she's been gone a couple of hours already-it's probably drifting or anchored or pulled up on shore somewhere not too far away. You shouldn't have too much trouble finding it."
"And Marty? Does your crystal ball tell you where she is, Helm?"
He wasn't liking me much; he wasn't calling me "son" any more. I said, "I'd guess she's with Leonard and his undercover army-well, navy-on the way to Cutlass Key, sir."
"Not in the dark. She knows these waters pretty well, but not well enough to run them at night."
"If you're sure of that, sir, we've got more time than I figured. I was worried that they were getting too much of a start on us."
"Well, she's been in there, but not recently, and it's not an easy area to navigate from memory. In daylight, she should be able to make it if she takes her time and kind of feels her way, but at night she'll run them aground for sure, or get them good and lost in that labyrinth of islands. I think she's smart enough to know it." Priest hesitated. "Do you really believe she'll take them there, son?"
I was back in favor again. "Yes, sir," I said.
"I can't believe she'd betray her own father!"
I said, "You don't understand idealism as practiced currently, sir. Personal loyalties and relationships simply don't count, when you're saving humanity as a whole from evil men like Mac and me and from the callous and ruthless philosophy of violence we represent."
"What about Leonard's callous and ruthless philosophy?"
"That's the big flaw in their idealistic reasoning," I said grimly. "They invariably seem to figure that if one side is bad, the other must be good. Well, we'll have to see if we can't demonstrate to Miss Borden that we're all equally dreadful in this horrible world." I drew a long breath. "Where's Jarrel White, and what kind of equipment have you got for me?"
Priest said, "There's a rifle, some cartridges, and an aerosol can of insect repellant. I can lend you a flashlight if you need it."
"There's one on the boat. Is the rifle more or less sighted in, I hope? Never mind, it's bound to be. Mac would know I wouldn't be able to do any last-minute target shooting around here." I grimaced. "There's nothing I love like taking off on a job in the dark, with a strange guide, and an unfamiliar weapon that's been adjusted by somebody else!"
"I can tell you one thing, son; no matter how much shooting you do with the gun, you'll do more with the spray can. At night, the bugs will eat you alive. I'll get Jarrell and the gear."
XXVI
For a mild-looking, middle-aged gent, Jarrel White had some fairly violent and youthful speedboating ideas. He took us out through the pass as if our little boat were an unlimited hydroplane racing for the Gold Cup on Lake Havasu, if I have the hardware and location right, which I probably don't.
I couldn't see all the tide-rips in the dark, but I could feel every one of them through the cushioned bench on which I sat, just forward of the steering console. When we reached open water, the black man rammed the throttle all the way forward. Fortunately, it was a calm night. Even so, I had the impression that we only hit the water every fifty yards or so, and that when we did, it was hard as rock. The running lights went out.
"Shouldn't be nobody to see us without legal lights out here except the folks we're after, this time of night," Jarrel yelled over the roar of the motor, when I looked around questioningly. "You still figure they're way ahead of us?"
"They had a couple of hours' start," I shouted back, "but Captain Priest doesn't seem to think they'll head into the mangroves until they've got daylight to navigate by."
"We'll go well offshore so they don't hear us passing; then we'll swing down south and come in by the back door, so to speak." He patted the steering wheel approvingly. "Don't hold much with boats looking like guided missiles, but she handles nice. Wish she wasn't quite so deep, though. Tide's ebbing; we'll maybe have to lift the motor and pole through a couple shallow spots. Well, we'll see, cap'n; we'll see."
The title was, I knew, not a military rank. It was merely a mark of respect, indicating that I was a friend of Hank Priest, who'd given me a good buildup. There was no more conversation for a long time; just the high scream of the motor and the harsh hammering of water against the fiberglass hull. I could make out nothing but ocean-well, Gulf of Mexico-around us. Either the coast to port had dropped below the dark horizon, or it was uninhabited, or the inhabitants were sound asleep with all lights out. At last I picked up a flash off the bow. I looked up once more at Jarrel, standing at the helm behind me.