The By-Pass Control Read online

  “Hell, they knew where he was heading. They were lined up waiting for him. Agrounsky was out of cash and the biggest source of the stuff was the city. And don’t bet his moves weren’t prearranged. That little guy he did the favor for by sharing his junk was probably part of the setup. He put Agrounsky in touch with the other peddlers who slipped him out cut loads and reported back to Fish where Agrounsky was.”

  “I can check it out fast enough.”

  “Then do it.”

  “Where did they slip up?”

  “I’ll know for sure when I contact Ernie Bentley.” I turned the key in the lock and started the engine. Dave had left his car back in the middle of town and we drove over to it. When he got out I said, “Locate your contact and call me at the Sand Dunes.” I looked at my watch. “I should be back in an hour.”

  “He may not be available that fast.”

  “I’ll wait. If he’s in on it he might steer us to somebody else.”

  “Okay, Tiger. See you later.”

  Flight 804 was taxiing up to the ramp as I parked the car. Four men came down the anus-like stairs in the rear of the plane before I saw Camille Hunt. She had her suitcoat over her shoulders, leaning against the downpour with her head ducked into it. I ran over, took the briefcase from her hand and said, “Hi, spider.”

  “You would drag me out into this.”

  I grinned at her. “You don’t know how easy you have it. The car’s over here.”

  She got in, shook the rain from her shoulders, and tossed the silly hat she had on in the back seat. “My goodness, Tiger, is this really necessary?”

  “It was.”

  She gave me an exasperated glance. “Was? You mean I made the trip for nothing?”

  “I’m here.”

  “That’s a consolation.”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  Camille nudged me with an elbow, her face still shining wetly from the rain. “Seriously, what is this all about?”

  As I threaded my way out to the road I said, “I wanted you to make an identification. It isn’t important any more. Henri Frank is dead.”

  “Dead? But ... how?”

  “He blew himself to bits trying to knock me off. It was a case of a guy who couldn’t understand his own failure and tried to check on it. I was there before him.”

  “Tiger ... this whole thing ...”

  I let it hang there. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you back to Belt-Aire in the morning.”

  She gave me a long, steady stare. “You just haven’t read the weather reports. My flight was the last one in. They expect everything to be grounded tomorrow. If it weren’t for some slight mechanical trouble we would have gone on into Miami.”

  “So you got an unexpected vacation.”

  “My foot,” Camille exploded. “With all the work piling up I can’t afford it. Do you know orders came in from Martin Grady himself this morning to arrange for an expansion program? The Belt-Aire project has been approved and goes into full production at once. I shouldn’t be here now.”

  “Well, I’ll try to make your stay enjoyable.”

  “Swell,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Where will we go?”

  “First, to a whorehouse.”

  She turned her head to see if I were joking or not, then decided I was serious and frowned with annoyance. “I don’t understand you.”

  “That’s good. We’ll never have any trouble then.”

  Louis Agrounsky had frequented a place that had all the earmarks of respectability if you didn’t know what it was. The house was a two story affair barely different from its neighbors; better kept, if anything. The lawn and hedgerow were trimmed, the siding freshly painted, and the two cars in the double garage were both late model Fords inconspicuous anywhere.

  The woman who answered the bell was the full-blown type, tall and pleasant, with a ready smile under vivacious blue eyes and a pert tilt to her pretty blonde head. She started to say something, then saw Camille and divided her glance between us, as though we had come to the wrong house.

  “Yes?”

  “Lisa McCall.”

  Her eyebrows went up questioningly. “Yes, I’m Miss McCall.”

  “I’d like to speak to you about a friend of mine. Can we come in?”

  The blonde nodded and opened the door wider, the smile curious now. She could smell the trouble, but rather than be frightened she was curious because of it. When she shut the door behind us she walked ahead and ushered us into a well appointed living room dominated by a masculine bar that was out of place among the obviously feminine decorations.

  Out of routine, she went behind the bar, waited until I said I’d have a rye and ginger with Camille nodding for the same, then mixed the drinks and placed them in front of us.

  “I know you,” she said quietly.

  “Do you?”

  “La Plata Bar in Rio. Four years ago. There was an attempted revolution and you killed two men who tried to take the one you were with. He was a General named Ortega Diaz.”

  “You get around, kid.” Beside me I could feel Camille tense suddenly, then relax. In the mirror behind the bar I could see her eyes watching me as if I were something in a zoo.

  “I don’t know your name.”

  “Tiger Mann.”

  “Yes. I have heard it mentioned. There were a lot of stories about you in Rio.”

  “They were troubled times. But I don’t remember you and I don’t like that. I don’t generally forget faces.”

  The girl made a sad motion with her hands, but smiled and said, “I was younger then, and pretty. Time and this business does things to one. I was twenty pounds lighter and my hair was black. A nose job to correct what a drunken seaman did to me makes a big difference.” She stopped smiling then and looked at me seriously. “But you came to see about a friend.”

  “Louis Agrounsky. Hardecker gave me the tip and told me about bugging the room for information. Now I want your version.”

  Her expression was bland a moment, then a furrow appeared between her eyes. “But what is there to tell?”

  “Your reaction. I’m more interested in your opinion of the association. You’ve been with enough men to read through them.”

  Lisa McCall dropped her head a moment, then peered up at me. “It probably was as professional as it can get.” She looked over at Camille and the corner of her mouth twisted in a funny smile. “Am I embarrassing you?”

  “No ... not at all.” I caught the implication in her tone of voice. Camille was quietly objective, observing every facet of a type she had never come into contact with before.

  Lisa said, “There was little conversation. Mr. Agrounsky wasn’t given to talk and it was obvious that he was inexperienced with women. He called here and I immediately called Captain Hardecker who installed the tape recorder in the room. When he arrived he simply paid his ... fee, then we left for the bedroom. He demanded nothing out of the ordinary, was quite incompetent sexually from lack of experience, thanked me when it was over and seemed a little bit shaken for having resorted to such an extreme.”

  “He was here on six different occasions.”

  “That’s right,” Lisa agreed readily. “Twice when I wasn’t here Marge attended to him. Each time Captain Hardecker was notified. There never was any change in his routine. If anything, it was very formal. I know why Captain Hardecker was interested ... it wasn’t the first time this happened nor the last. Several times this ... establishment has been useful to him.”

  “So I understand. I’m not complaining. But I still want your opinion.”

  “Of ... the arrangement?” she asked me.

  “No ... just Agrounsky.”

  Lisa let her eyes wander to the wall, then came back to me with a knowing expression. “For what it’s worth, I’d say we were substitutes.”

  “For what?”

  “Your friend wasn’t a forward type at all. Under all that reserve he still had masculine drives but didn’t know how to compensate f
or them. My guess is that he visited here after he had had some previous contact with a woman. She probably aroused him somewhat, but he was unable to approach her and came here as a last resort for ... physical release.”

  “Did he ever mention this?”

  “No, but it was a very familiar attitude. It isn’t at all unusual.” She stopped a moment, touched her lips with her tongue and said, “I didn’t mention it to Captain Hardecker because it slipped my mind, but once after he left another ... client saw him go and made a remark about it when he was with me. Something about Mr. Agrounsky being so aloof at the project when all the time he had the hots over some young technician in his laboratory. He used to blush whenever he saw her legs but never bothered looking away, either. It was sort of a joke with the men, I think.”

  “This client ...”

  “No use, Mr. Mann. I told you what you asked me.”

  “The girl?”

  “Never mentioned her name. You can probably ask around.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks for your trouble.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Mann. I’ve been around enough to realize the possibilities in this sort of thing. I hope everything comes out all right.”

  “So do I,” I told her. “If you think of anything else, I’m at the Sand Dunes Motel. Or you can call Hardecker.”

  Lisa went ahead of us and opened the door, smiling politely at us both. As I went out she said, “Hurry back,” but before I could answer Camille gave me another short jab in the ribs and grimaced as the rain sliced into her face. She wanted to say something, but a sneeze stopped her short.

  “Damn,” she told me as she climbed into the car, “if I get a cold out of this you’re a dead fly.”

  “Mud dauber, remember?”

  “All I remember is that I came down here without a thing to wear and I’m soaking wet. What are you going to do with me?”

  “Get you in a motel and dry you out.”

  “That’s the first exciting thing you’ve said to me today,” she chuckled.

  The little old lady at the desk of the Sand Dunes gave me a knowing nod when I checked Camille in and asked if I wanted an adjoining room for her. Rather than shake her faith in her supposed powers of observation I tossed a bill down and said, “Why sure. I’m too old to be chasing around in the rain.”

  Her mouth pursed with indignation and she didn’t know whether to believe me or not, so she just handed over the key, a late paper and asked if I wanted ice water in the room. I told her no and drove on down to the end of the row.

  “Man and wife?” Camille asked with a small leer.

  “That takes all the fun out of it,” I told her. “It’s better to have to kick your door down.”

  “You would too, wouldn’t you?”

  I shook my head. “I’m too handy at picking a lock.”

  “Well, never mind either. I’ll leave the door open. I have my own way of handling you virile types.” She stifled another sneeze, shook her head with annoyance and got out of the car in front of her room.

  It didn’t take her long to get in the shower. I heard the water run at full blast and a short yell as she found it too hot and settled it down to an even temperature.

  I picked up the phone and called Ernie Bentley. I gave him the coded ID and said, “Tiger. Did you follow up my request?”

  “Got it right here. Hit it with the second call and no protest. Louis Agrounsky sold two patented devices to D.L.W. Enterprises for a thousand dollars apiece. The deal was made by phone, confirmed and paid for by telegram sent and received out of Wilmington, North Carolina, with a following letter from the same city signed by Agrounsky assigning them all rights and residuals. The patents comprised mini components for TV transmitting cameras and were worth a hundred times that but all he wanted was immediate cash and a deal that could be made without going through lengthy legal maneuverings. D.L.W. was happy to go through with it and even took the chance on it being a phoney to wrap it up.”

  “The telegraph office demanded identification?”

  “They did ... and he presented it. The check was cashed at the receiving office in small bills. The clerk remembered him well enough to describe him and there’s no doubt about it being Agrounsky. I passed the information on to Newark Control and they tried to pick it up without any luck. He never checked in at any of the local hotels or motels and the clerk didn’t remember him having a car.”

  “He could travel a long way on two grand.”

  “Or he could stick around and spend it,” Ernie said.

  “That’s what I’m thinking too.”

  It was making better sense now. Wilmington was a seaport and a possible drop for narcotics that flowed into the country. If Agrounsky drew a blank in the Myrtle Beach area after he sold his car he could have headed north by bus looking for another supplier and Wilmington was the next logical spot on the route to New York. If a source had been prearranged for him he’d know where to go, but he wouldn’t be taking any chances on being caught short again. Even though he was still an amateur in the business, a hophead could be crafty. He had to learn fast to stay on his kick and keep the monkey off his back. That was where the Soviets went wrong. They weren’t dealing with a rational person at all. Agrounsky the scientist they could deal with. Agrounsky the addict was unpredictable. He wasn’t taking any chances getting screwed with a cut deal any more. He had picked up his own bundle and was getting the H his own way now.

  Ernie cut off my thought with, “Your package will be at the post office in General Delivery tomorrow morning. There’s still a check on all Bezex sales and one was reported at the Atlanta air terminal yesterday. If Hoppes is on his way down it’s along the route. Other sales were scattered. Miami reported several, but the salespeople knew the buyers.”

  “What’s the life of the container?” I asked him.

  “About two days of constant use. Built-in obsolescence, European style. Potent, but of short duration. A real sales gimmick. Scatter the batch down there and watch for a reaction.”

  “Will do, Ernie.” I paused, thought a moment and said, “Has Rondine made contact yet?”

  “No. Your message will go through when she calls. Virgil Adams said she and her friend Talbot went to Washington but haven’t been located yet. They may still be there or on the way back.”

  “Right.”

  “Now here’s one direct from H.Q. Grady wants action fast. You’re not getting through often enough and he’s hot. Word has leaked out of some of the ICBM installations that something big’s going on and the newspapers are yelling for official statements on what’s happening. A smart assed reporter dug out a history on Vito Salvi and wanted to release it but I.A.T.S. reached him in time and he’s been in protective custody since this morning. It’s gotten as far as overseas and there’s a storm brewing, Tiger. Nobody is going to be able to sit on this much longer.”

  “But nothing’s been located?”

  “Not as far as we know. They completely cut off the installation at the March Station and are rebuilding the system. Unless the by-pass is found they’ll eventually do it all over, but that will take a year anyway and will leave us in the cold. Technical crews went into the Nordic and Vesper Stations in California, but that’s only a drop in the bucket. All it takes is one and Agrounsky was involved in nine of the projects. Damn, this thing even has me shaking.”

  “It should.”

  Ernie’s voice changed then and he said almost quietly, “How does it look, Tiger?”

  “Lousy,” I told him and put the phone back.

  Next door the water was still running hard and I heard Camille’s voice half muted in some song. I lifted the phone again and gave the operator the number of Helen Lewis’ apartment in Sarasota I had picked up from Hardecker’s report sheet.

  After a two minute wait I got the superintendent of the building who came on with a high flutey voice and told me who he was. I said, “Can you reach Helen Lewis for me?”

  “Miss Lewis? Why, I don’t belie
ve she has a phone.”

  “Can you get her to this one?”

  He giggled, then said, “I’m afraid not. Miss Lewis has been on vacation and isn’t expected back for some time. Can I take a message?”

  “Do you know where I can reach her?”

  “You might try Rome,” he giggled again. “That’s where she said she was going. She travels a lot, you know. In fact, if she weren’t paid up for a year in advance I’d be tempted to rent her apartment out.”

  “Don’t do that,” I told him.

  “No, of course not. I was only joking. Sorry I can’t be of help.”

  “Tell me one thing ... is her apartment furnished?”

  “Naturally, all of our apartments are. Why, may I ask?”

  “No reason. Thanks anyway.”

  “Certainly,” he said, and broke the connection with another giggle.

  And there it ended again. A short road with nothing around the bend. Everything petered out into a puff of dust. The whole world was sitting on the thin edge of destruction, never knowing how close to the edge it was, and every thread to the man upon whose whim annihilation or life depended was broken off short.

  The trouble was that it wasn’t a planned arrangement. It was something totally accidental that was stumbled upon, and before an arrangement could be properly set up, circumstances became accidental again. Agrounsky’s condition was seized upon quickly enough. The importance of his defection from logical principles was recognized, but he couldn’t be handled in an ordinary manner, his susceptibility to narcotics was minimized, and he got out of the circle because of his immediate need for the big jolt.

  He was fair game now, but above all, he was his own biggest target.

  Next door the water stopped and I heard the shower doors open and shut as Camille Hunt stepped out to dry herself. I opened the bureau drawer, took out a blue oxford shirt and unfolded it, then stepped outside and knocked on her door.

  When she called to come in I pushed the door open. She hadn’t bothered to lock it. The electric wall heater was going full blast with a chair drawn up in front of it, her clothes draped over the back to dry off. Tendrils of steam still came from the partially opened bathroom door and I walked over and stuck my hand in with the shirt in it.