Doc Savage - Up From Earth's Center Part 4

"Are you intimating Gilmore a.s.saulted you?" Doc asked bluntly.

Wail smirked. "In a delicate way, I might be intimating exactly that. Someone did. And Gilmore is missing, you say.

Doc threw an intent look at Wail. The man wore an expensive suit, a clean blue s.h.i.+rt of good cloth, a rather loud regimental cravat, and his shoes shone. There were, Doc noted, no signs of salt water having splattered his shoes. "Look here, fellow, you're putting on quite an act," Doc said coldly. "If Gilmore hit you, come out and say so. Then you can go right ahead and say why."

"I didn't see Gilmore hit me.

"Would you know if it was Gilmore, had you seen him?"

"Meaning do I know Gilmore by sight? I certainly do. And I would have known if he struck me, had I seen him." Wail smiled.

Doc nodded. "Now you're getting started on a story. You know Gilmore. Now, who is Gilmore? Let's have that."

"I'm not sure I like your prying at me," Wail murmured.

"I don't expect you to like it," Doc said. "Who is this Gilmore?"

Wail shrugged. His grin hadn't diminished. "Maybe I'll not tell you a thing." At this point the sailor, Kroeger, who had come to the companionway to listen, struck a match to light his pipe. It was not getting dark outside, and the igniting match made a little splash of light. Mr. Wail showed an emotion besides friendly glee for the first time. He started violently, paled, and turned his face away from the companionway.

Doc asked curtly, "How did you get out here, Wail?"

The chubby man shuddered, then regained control. "In a small boat. How does one travel over the water? Walk on it?" he snapped.

"Where did you get the small boat?"

"I rented it, naturally."

"No one saw you come aboard," Doc told him. "Didn't they? They should have had their eyes open. No one heard you, either."

"They might try opening their ears, as well," Wail said slyly "I a.s.sure you I came aboard. As evidence, I offer myself as being among the present." The little man smirked once more, added, "I believe I wasn't going to give you information I shall adhere to that course, I think." He went over and sat primly on a bunk.

Linningen caught Doc's eye, blurting, "I don't see how he got aboard. I really don't. It's uncanny. Doc shoved past Linningen, pushed open the door into a forward cabin, and said, "You're Bill Williams, aren't you?" to the bulky young man sprawled on a berth there.

"Yeah, I'm Bill," the young man said. He lifted his head, got a good look at Doc, and hastily swung out of the berth. "Say, you're Doc Savage!" he exclaimed. "I've got a head-ache, and I had dozed off in a nap.

Linningen told me you were coming aboard, and I'm sure sorry I wasn't awake to greet you, but I slept through that."

"You slept through several things, Williams," Doc said dryly "Will you come in here a minute? I want you to meet a fellow."

A moment later, Williams stared at Mr. Wail blankly, and asked, "Am I supposed to know this chap?"

"Don't you?" Doc asked. "No." Williams peered at Wail again. "No, I don't know him."

"Better think over that answer, Williams," Doc said. "This is Mr. Wail, the fellow you said you were going hunting for when you started off into the tide rip with one oar."

The jerk of astonishment that Williams gave seemed genuine. His next reaction was harder to define. He stepped back, his face grew strained, and he narrowed his eyes. Then he growled, "I don't remember a d.a.m.ned thing about starting off in a dinghy with one oar! Somebody's ribbing me. And I've stopped thinking it is funny!"

Linningen exclaimed, "Bill! n.o.body's kidding you!"

"The h.e.l.l they aren't!" Williams snarled, and wheeled back into his cabin and slammed the door.

Mr. Wail laughed outright. "Another silent man on your hands," he said. Ignoring Wail, Doc crossed the cabin, bounded out on deck, and stood facing the sore. He used his arms to signal, semaph.o.r.e fas.h.i.+on, instructions to Monk and Ham, who should be watching through the dusk. They were watching, because presently he saw them leave the shack where they were stationed, both at a run. In a few minutes, they were back, and Monk wigwagged some information with his arms.

Doc dropped back into the cabin, strode to Wail, and seized the man's arm. "n.o.body on sh.o.r.e rented you a small boat to row out here, Wail," Doc said emphatically. "And no one saw Gilmore row ash.o.r.e.

Now you're getting the choice of talking to me, or telling it to the police, either way you want to have it.

The police will have the same questions I've got - have you been hiding on the boat, and did you chuck Gilmore overboard to drown when you got the chance?"

Wail was not surprised. At least, his grin did not waver. "I believe you might find a friend of yours who can say I was ash.o.r.e not more than an hour ago," he said. "You have a friend named Monk Mayfair, haven't you?"

A flicker of respect crossed Doc's face. "You're a sharp one, Wail." Then he added, "But you're an odd one, too. And I think you're going to give us a lot of words in about one minute."

Wail snorted. "In one minute, I shall be just as silent as far as information is concerned, as I am now I don't like your way, and I've decided not to say a thing - "

His eyes widened in terror and he jumped back. "Here! d.a.m.n you! Don't do that!" Wail's back slammed against a bulkhead, stopping his retreat.

Doc Savage had done nothing more menacing than strike a match on his thumbnail. The red flame sizzled around the tip of the match. Doc waved the fragment of fire casually in front of Wail's face. Wail screamed in terror. He lunged sidewise in an effort to escape. Doc tripped him, and he fell flat. Doc immediately planted a knee on his stomach, holding him down, and pa.s.sed the lighted match in front of Wail's eyes. Wail screeched, his whole body convulsed in an agony of horror, and then suddenly he relaxed into a limp mound of soft flesh. Wail had fainted.

Linningen gave an astonished exclamation. "An extreme case of pyrophobia!" the psychiatrist e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"How in thunder did you catch on, Savage? "Doc indicated the companionway, where the sailor, Kroeger, had dropped his pipe in amazement. "Kroeger lit his pipe a minute ago, he said. "I caught it then."

"You mean that guy's scared of a little thing like the flame of a match?" Kroeger demanded. Heaving Wail's limp figure onto a bunk, Doc said, "Get some cold water to dash in his face. I think Mr. Wail isgoing to talk his head off when he wakes up. Kroeger, you be handy with a few matches if he doesn't."*

Wail moaned, turned over, and presently managed to focus his eyes on Doc Savage, whereupon beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead.

"We're all ears," Doc told him. When Wail seemed to show signs of thinking it over, Doc told Kroeger, "Have you got a newspaper that would make a nice blaze?"

Wail emitted a choking sound. "Cut it out!" he croaked. "G.o.d, I can't stand being around fire. I'll tell you all I can. Gilmore is only his first name. He's really Gilmore Sullivan. Gilmore James Sullivan, in full." Wail fell silent, swallowing.

"You've got a fine start, so go right ahead," Doc told him.

"Gilmore Sullivan is twenty-nine years old. He studied geology in Harvard, and has worked at it some since, but not much. He is unmarried. He has money, which he inherited from his father."

As he spoke, Wail was looking at his fingers as if checking off the items by the digital system.

"Gilmore has a sister," he continued. "She is his only immediate family Gilmore lived at a lodge about a hundred miles inland from here. The sister lives there, too. I can take you there. The sister's name is Leona. She is in her early twenties, and pretty She has some money also. The father divided his estate between the brother and sister."

When Wail hesitated, Doc said sharply, "That was just background stuff. Go ahead with the part that counts."

Wail said, "About four months ago, Gilmore disappeared, and I was hired to find him." Wail stood up, adding, "That's all. Now I think I'll get out of here."

"Wait a minute," Doc told him. "You're just starting. What were the circ.u.mstances connected with Gilmore's disappearance?"

Wail was getting the eternal grin back on his face. "He just got to acting nutty, and went away. The sister, Leona, figured he had blown his top. I guess she was touchy about maybe there being insanity in the family, and didn't want any publicity, because she hired me to hunt for Gilmore, instead of notifying the authorities."

"Are you a professional finder of lost people?" Doc asked.

"That's right. That's exactly what I am." Wail nodded vehemently several times. "I'm a private investigator. A sleuth.

"Is that all?"

"It's all."

"You're making it a little too simple. You've neglected to explain how you found Gilmore was aboard, and how you got out here to the boat without anyone seeing you.

Wail grinned. "It's just as simple as I'm making it. I was in Lubec by accident, and I heard talk ash.o.r.e about Gilmore having been found on an island. I rented a boat and rowed out. If n.o.body saw me, I can't help that. They just didn't look, because I sure wasn't invisible." "You weren't heard boarding the schooner," Doc reminded him.

"I can't help that either. n.o.body was on deck, and I went below to see who I could find. I didn't see anyone, and started opening stateroom doors. The first one I opened, I got bopped over the head. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor."

Mr. Wail put on his smirk. "I'm a little sensitive about being knocked out. I was scared, too, and I locked the cabin door. I kept it locked because I was afraid, and for no other reason. Now that's all I've got to say and it's the truth.

"You think Gilmore went ash.o.r.e in your rented dinghy?"

"Why not?"

"Where do you think Gilmore would go next?" Doc asked.

"Who knows what a crazy man will do? Maybe he took out for home."

"Home? You mean where his sister lives?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Can you take us there?"

"I can if you want me to", Wail told him.

V.

AS the automobile rushed around a curve in the road, Doc Savage told Monk Mayfair "Turn on the gadget. Let's see what Linningen and Williams have to say to each other."

"This radio, you mean?" Monk hauled a small portable out of the rear seat, turned the switch, and asked, "What frequency are they on?" "Try eight hundred and sixty megacycles," Doc said.

Monk tuned in the receiver and got a rush of background noise along with the kind of sounds that would come from a microphone concealed in a car.

"They're kinda quiet," Monk said.

The Maine woods, a thick green ma.s.s all around them in spite of the early winter, rushed past almost brus.h.i.+ng the car. The second car carrying Linningen and Williams was about half a mile behind them. "Do you suppose they suspect we have a radio transmitter concealed in their car?" Ham Brooks asked.

"There's a small chance," Doc replied. "But I don't think so.

Wail was riding with Doc, Monk and Ham. They noted that he was staring at the radio in perplexity Finally, his puzzlement got the best of him, and he asked, "What is that thing?"

Monk and Ham both laughed. Then Monk said, "It's a high frequency radio receiver, buddy. The sending set is hidden in the car in which Williams and Linningen are riding."

"I don't understand," said Wail.

"I don't know how I'd make it any clearer," Monk told him. "But if the thing works, we can hear anything Williams and Linningen say to each other." Mr. Wail looked vaguely alarmed. "Indeed? I don't believe it."

"Aw, don't be a sap. It's a very ordinary radio set-up. You should see some of the complicated stuff we use.

"You mean you can hear them in that other vehicle without being there?" Wail demanded nervously.

"That's right."

Wail's eyes popped slightly. 'And you don't consider such a miracle unusual?"

"Nope," Monk said. "It's nothing, compared to even such a commonplace thing as television.'

Wail examined them in apprehension. "You... uh... haven't been where I have been, by chance?" he asked uneasily.

"What," Monk asked, "do you mean by that?"

"I.. . nothing." Wail seemed sorry he had brought up the subject.

Monk flung put a large hand and gripped Mr. Wail's loud necktie before the latter could dodge. "Just what did you mean by that crack, hub?" he demanded.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Wail insisted.

"You ain't pretending you don't know what radio is, are you?" Monk asked.

"I. . I shouldn't have said a thing," Wail mumbled.

"Because if you're pretending that," Monk said, "I'll bat you one on the ear. I've listened to all the preposterous stuff I want to hear."

Wail only ducked his head.

"And furthermore," Monk went on, "if you're talking us off into the Maine woods on a wild goose chase, I'll shake you loose from your feathers. We'd better find poor Gilmore has a sister living back here in the woods, and that she hired you to locate Gilmore, or you're in trouble."

Mr. Wail looked uncomfortable.

"I think he's lying to us," Ham Brooks put in.

"If he is," Monk said, "he probably isn't the only one. Just between you and me, n.o.body connected with this crazy affair has said two consecutive words I can believe."

The road became rough and crooked, and it climbed into rugged hills. In the car behind, Linningen and Williams hardly spoke, although Linningen growled once, "This is a h.e.l.l of a road. I wonder if they know where they're going?"

"Who cares?" Bill Williams asked bitterly. "Everybody is crazy, anyway. I must say you certainly acted demented," Williams added.

Linningen snorted. "You should talk!"