Mystery Of The Sea Horse (9 page)

"Us? Who's us?"

Ignoring the question, he asked, "Who can I get in touch with here in the Santa Barbara area. We have to hit this island of his right now, tonight if possible."

"Call Marcus." Terry gave him a local number. "He's a good man, just recently transferred in from the East."

"Ill talk to him."

"Let me know as soon as something cracks," requested Terry. "I've been trying to get something positive on this Danton guy for too long now."

"I will."

The bedroom door was pushed slowly open. Uncle Dave entered, his face strangely immobile and pale.

"What is it?" Diana asked as she walked toward him.

"Somebody wants to talk to you, Di."

"More police?"

"No, this is a federal man," said Uncle Dave. "An agent named Marcus."

Agent Marcus lit a menthol cigarette as he circled slowly around the sofa in the den. "So you say you never knew Chris Danton before you arrived in Santa Barbara, Miss Palmer?"

Diana was sitting on the dark sofa next to the Phantom. Her uncle was behind the wooden desk. "That's right, I met him here," she said. "At a party of my uncle's, the day I got in."

"You have no idea what kind of business he's in?"

"Yes, he's smuggling drugs," answered the girl.

Marcus was around in front of the sofa. He halted. "You mean you—?"

"Look," the Phantom told him, "right now Danton is probably clearing off of San Obito."

Exhaling smoke, Marcus said, "I prefer to handle this thing my way . . . Mr. Walker. Now, Miss Palmer, how long have you been aware that—?"

"What are you trying to tie Diana in with?" Uncle Dave wanted to know.

"I'm trying to find out exactly what her connection with Danton is," Marcus replied. "I have a great deal of respect for you, Mr. Palmer, and your reputation. But—"

The Phantom said, "You must know Terry."

"Up in Frisco? Yeah, I know him. Why?"

"I was just on the phone with him. He told me to get in touch with you about Danton."

"So you know Terry, huh?" Marcus crossed to the desk to snuff out his cigarette in a seashell ashtray.

"Call him now and confirm it."

"I'll do that," promised Marcus. "But first, I want to ask Miss Palmer a few more questions. For instance, how does this shooting here tonight link up with your relationship to Danton?"

"Danton's behind it," answered Diana. "He wants to kill us. With you around, though, that hardly seems necessary."

Uncle Dave was standing up, angry. "Why
'd
you come here, Marcus? Did you get some kind of tip?"

Marcus lit a fresh cigarette, concentrating on that, not meeting the old man's eyes. "Well, okay, ; yes," he said finally. "We have information indicating Miss Palmer may be involved with Chris Danton in his alleged narcotics operation."

"That's ridiculous," said Diana.

"Another base covered," said the Phantom. "If he can't kill you, he can at least discredit you, for a while anyway."

"Further," continued the federal agent, "we ! have reason to suspect some illicit drugs may be concealed on the premises here."

"What?" demanded Uncle Dave. "Do you mean to tell me you intend to hunt for junk in my house without so much as a warrant?"

"I can get one," Marcus assured him. "Out of deference to you, Mr. Palmer, I'm trying to keep this informal."

"Oh, let them look," said Diana. "They're not-"

"Excuse me." Agent Busino, rubbing at his | thinning hair with his left hand, came into the den.

His partner asked, "Well?"

"I'm afraid so," said Busino. "Found it in a hollow place under one of the stones out in the patio. ' Wasn't all that hard to locate." He held up a small clear bag of white powder. "Heroin," he said.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Chris Danton zipped up his black jacket with an angry flourish. Dawn was coming, the night darkness melting away to gray. On the jagged cliffside, Danton stood watching the last launch being loaded. "I've enjoyed this island of mine," he said.

Chuck Piper was standing nearby, shoulders hunched and hands in pockets. "It's a damn shame," he said. "All on account of that
nosf
Palmer dame."

"Don't forget the Phantom," said Danton. "We must not forget him. I have a score to settle with both Diana and the Phantom."

"Who is that guy any way?"

"I'll tell you all about the Phantom sometime, Chuck, everything I learned about him during my various sojourns in Bangalla," promised Danton. "Right now we have to make a few final arrangements in the house."

"I just checked with the shore," said Chuck. "No sign of anybody heading this way yet."

"It is unfortunately only a matter of time." Danton turned from his view of the sea, frowning. "It seems unusually warm this morning, and windy."

"I think the Santa Ana's getting ready to blow."

"Perhaps it's a good thing for us to leave then." Danton began walking back toward his villa. "It's a shame, though, that little Laura is such a poor shot."

"I don't think it's that. I think she's too impa-

tient," said Chuck, falling in beside his employer. "She probably started shooting too soon. And then that guy she had backing her up, he should have gone a little slower, too. Instead of just decking this Phantom, he should have taken a little extra time to finish him off for good. Now, if I'd been . .."

Danton laughed. "It's just as well," he said. "I think I'd like to put the finishing touches on the Phantom myself." He nodded several times, laughing again. "You've been in contact with the yacht?"

"Yeah, we'll rendezvous with them a few miles down the coast," answered Chuck. "Then we'll all hightail it out beyond the limit."

"Good. Now let me take care of my duties as a host."

"Host? You're not going to be—"

"Even when he is absent," said Danton, "a good host thinks of his guests."

The small, pretty red-haired girl ran from her cottage with a heavy suitcase. Parked in the narrow driveway was a dusty station wagon. "Okay, all set," she said.

The lean black man at the wheel said, "You sure you gathered up everything important, Laura?"

"Well, there's still some dust under the bed," she said as she tossed the suitcase into the rear of the wagon.

"I mean, you didn't leave anything behind that might tend to be, you know, incriminating?"

"No," she said.

"Because, and don't think I'm being critical, but you do tend to rush through things sometimes and . . ."

"You sound like Chuck," said the girl. "If I'd taken my time I could have gotten rid of Diana

Palmer and her mysterious buddy. If you'd taken your time, he at least would be dead."

"I wasn't told to kill anybody," said the young man. "Right on the street is no place to do it anyway."

Laura walked around the front of the station wagon to the passenger side. "Don't worry about it. Danton's got a lot of ways to kill people. He'll surely come up with something new for them."

"Where are we supposed to head now?"

"South," said the girl as she climbed into the passenger seat.

Starting the engine, he asked, "You sure now you're not leaving anything important behind?"

Laura snapped her fingers. "Thanks for reminding me." She hopped out of the vehicle and sprinted back to the little house. A moment later, she was back with a bundle under her arm.

"What's that?"

"My cookbooks."

"Well?" said Agent Marcus.

"It was obviously planted here," the Phantom told him. "By the girl who tried to shoot us."

"I'm addressing my questions to Miss Palmer," said Marcus. "Now, then Miss Palmer . . ." He paused, frowning at the Phantom. "Why would somebody leave narcotics here? Somebody who's out to kill you?"

"Danton is a very thorough man," answered the Phantom. "He seems to like the idea of having more than one way to get a job done. When we got away from San Obito, he tried to kill us with explosives rigged in the motor launch we used. But, in case that wasn't successful, he had another killer watching this house."

Marcus picked the bag of heroin from the desktop. "What's that have to do with this junk?"

"In case the girl failed to get rid of us," said the Phantom. "He had still another way to delay us."

"What's he trying to delay?"

"Your getting to the island."

Agent Busino was sitting in a chair near the door. He cleared his throat, trying to catch Marcus's eyes.

"What!" asked his partner.

In a low voice, Busino asked, "Can I borrow a cigarette?"

After tossing the crumpled pack, Marcus began circling the sofa again.

"You don't mind if I smoke, miss?" Busino asked Diana.

"No, go ahead."

"Lots of people lately are annoyed by smoking and so . . ."

"How do you come to know Terry?" Marcus was standing in front of the seated Phantom again.

"I've worked with him now and then," he replied. "Why don't you call him?" The Phantom gave the federal man the number.

Marcus, his gaze still on the Phantom, held out his hand in the direction of the other agent. "Give me those back. I want one."

Busino returned the cigarettes. "It can't hurt to phone, do you agree?"

"Maybe not." Marcus moved nearer the desk. "May I use your phone, Mr. Palmer?"

"I wish you would," said the old man.

In a moment, Agent Terry in San Francisco replied, "Yes, hello?"

"This is Marcus, down here in Santa Barbara."

"I was talking about you an hour or so ago,

Marcus. A good friend of mine will be getting in touch with you," said Terry. "Looks like he can help you get the goods on Chris Danton finally. So give him every—"

"That's what I'm phoning about. Is this guy's name Walker?"

Terry replied, "That's the name he's using, yes. Has he contacted you?"

"It's more like we contacted him." Marcus went on to explain why they were at the Palmer house, what they had found there, and how he'd met Walker.

When he finished, Terry said, "Yeah, that's obviously an attempted frame on the part of Danton. I can assure you, Walker is not involved in any way in the narcotics trade, Marcus. Nor are Dave Palmer and his niece. Now you better listen to Walker, if it's not already too late to catch Danton."