"Sorry, major. I've been around the colonel and his wife since I was a
kid. He got me the appointment to the Academy. They've never had any
children of their own."
"Why, you--" Lance reached through the bars and grabbed the captain by
his shirt collar, jerking him against the bars. "It's a lie! A
conspiracy! Maybe you think I'm nuts. But I'm not!" He commenced
pummeling the captain with his free fist. Then he thought of something
better. He snatched the captain's gun from his holster and leveled it.
[Illustration]
"I'm getting out of here," Lance announced. "Open up this door--or take
the consequences!"
The captain, his face ashy white, submitted and unlocked the cell door.
Lance stepped out, got behind the officer, and prodded him into the
cell. Tearing a sheet into strips, he tied the man to the cot and gagged
him. It took a very short time.
Then, he softly padded down the hallway. He caught the sergeant of the
guard napping in his chair. In a moment, the sergeant, too, was trussed
up, gagged, and whisked into a spare cell. Lance then tucked the
captain's pistol inside his shirt and ventured outside.
It was a moonlit night. A patrol jeep was parked on the drive, begging
to be commandeered. Lance hopped in. There was something he had to find
out for himself, and only one way to do it: Go to the place where they
kept the answers.
Wheeling the jeep along the military street fast as he dared, Lance
headed for the base housing area. Colonel Sagen's trim two-story brick
residence was where he hoped to pay a call. He knew the route by heart.
He'd been a guest there often enough.
The colonel's driveway was empty of cars, he was happy to notice, when
he reached the house. He parked, sprinted up to the porch, and knocked
on the door.
Presently, footsteps sounded inside and the door opened a few inches.
But it was not Carolyn whom Lance saw peeping out at him. It was another
woman, older. He recognized Mrs. Sagen.
Lance was blunt. "I've got to see Carolyn, and I haven't much time.
You'd better let me in."
An apprehensive, almost shocked expression briefly flitted across the
face of Carolyn's mother. It was as if she had never set eyes on Lance
Cooper before. Even the gold oak leaves on his shoulders seemed to
reassure her but slightly. She kept the door chain in place between
them.
"I'm sorry, major. I'm not sure that I understand you."
"Don't malarky me, please. You know who I am and who I want. Carolyn,
your daughter."
"Oh," said Mrs. Sagen. It was said in a way that revealed nothing.
"Look," said Lance, impatiently. "You do have a daughter. I've dated
her. So, all right," he waved his hands, "she's been spirited away for
some reason. I still think I've got a right to know why."
"Oh, my!" said Mrs. Sagen, and her hand flew to her face. "You must be
that scout-ship pilot who showed up yesterday. The one who--"
"Yeh, the one everybody figures for psycho. But I'm not, Mrs. Sagen. You
know I'm not." Lance took a deep breath. "Can I come in? I just want
some facts. After all, this crazy farce can't go on forever."
The colonel's wife still looked doubtful, but Lance Cooper had a way of
pressing a point hard when his interests were at stake. He began talking
rapidly and convincingly.
He got in.
* * * * *
The light indoors was better. Lance's eyes squinted, as they adjusted
from the gloom of the porch. Somehow, Mrs. Sagen didn't look quite as he
remembered. Her hair was much darker now; he was sure of that. Maybe she
had dyed it. Yet her features were certainly harder and bonier. More
like a replica of her husband's. And her breath smelled alcoholic. Could
a mere month have made that much difference?
The house had been refurnished too, Lance noticed. The living-room decor
was more severe and functional. And the pictures on the wall were
garish. Not Mrs. Sagen's type, at all.
_Hey, wait a minute!_ he told himself; _speaking of pictures_--his
glance skipped to the far corner of the room. A triptych of photos of
Carolyn had always been on display on the mantelpiece. _They would prove
that--_
Lance's jaw dropped.
The photos had been removed.
"Can I get you anything?" Mrs. Sagen inquired. A little nervously, Lance
thought. "A cup of coffee?"
"No, thanks. I'd rather hear about Carolyn."
"Coffee won't take a minute. I was just making some fresh in the
kitchen."