Who’s Fooling Whom?
Biff was wedged tightly between the two men. They pressured him toward
the exit. He could have resisted, probably could have escaped in the
crowded terminal, but since they were moving in a direction that would
take them right past Uncle Charlie and Derek, Biff decided against a
struggle.
He saw that his uncle was watching the action closely. Derek,
fortunately, had his back turned. Biff’s “friendly” captors would not be
able to see Derek’s face and remark the striking resemblance.
Within a few feet of Uncle Charlie and Derek, Biff decided to make his
move. He opened his mouth to shout. Uncle Charlie fixed his eyes firmly
on Biff and shook his head. A big wink from Uncle Charlie warned Biff
further to take no immediate action. Uncle Charlie tossed his head,
gesturing toward the exit door.
Biff read these signals as quickly as if his uncle had given them to him
verbally. Uncle Charlie wanted him to go with these men. Why, Biff
didn’t know, of course, but he realized that his uncle must have a real
purpose behind his strange action.
Outside the terminal, Biff was hustled into a black limousine. It was a
long, sleek-looking foreign car, all windows tightly closed. Was this to
prevent any outcry from being heard, Biff wondered? Or was it simply
because the car was air-conditioned against the tropical heat?
As the car pulled away, Biff quickly glanced out of the rear window. He
hoped to see his uncle pulling out in another car to follow. The
streets, filled with tourists, honking cars, and cyclists blocked his
vision. “Well, he must be following me,” Biff said to himself. “I hope,”
he added.
Biff was in the rear seat with one of the men. The other was driving.
“You had the good trip from The Netherlands?” the man asked.
“From where?” For a moment Biff had forgotten the role he was playing;
forgot he was impersonating Derek. “Oh, yes. Yes, very good,” he
replied. “It was quite exciting, flying over the ocean.” Biff was
careful not to mention which ocean.
“And your father, so anxious to see you, he is,” Biff’s seat companion
said.
“Why wasn’t he at the airport?” Biff asked. He had decided to play along
with these men. So far they had shown no outright enmity, had displayed
no threatening signs. Even so, Biff felt certain that should he try to
leap from the car, he would be forcibly detained.
“He is not well. His explorations at the bottom of the sea have
exhausted him.”
One more bit of information, Biff thought. Now he knew that Derek’s
father was searching for something on the ocean bed. What? Sunken
treasure? These waters had been plied by pirates in the olden days.
“He will welcome what you have brought him,” the man said.
Now just what could that be, Biff asked himself. This man obviously was
trying to pump him—trying to get him to reveal some information.
“It is important to his search, no?” the man continued.
“Come on, now,” Biff thought. “You don’t think I’ll fall for that
leading question.” From the cautious manner of the man’s questioning, it
occurred to Biff that the man himself probably didn’t know exactly what
Derek Zook was bringing from The Netherlands.
“Oh, yes, I am sure that I will be of much help to my father,” Biff said
aloud.
“Ah, good,” the man replied.
“You know, sir,” Biff said, “we have been together for ten minutes, and
although you know my name, I don’t know yours.”
“A million pardons, my young friend. I am Herman Dietz. And my friend
driving is Sidney Cade. He is more often called Specks, however. Perhaps
you can see why?”
Biff already had noticed that the driver’s face was covered with red
blotches. Some of them were small freckles. Others were unpleasant red
spots the size of a nickel.
For several moments they rode in silence. Biff was fascinated by the
sights around him. They were riding parallel to a broad waterway. On
either side, large oceangoing ships were moored to gaily colored quays.
Cruise ships, Biff thought to himself. Shops lined the sides of the
quaint street along which they were traveling. Tourists crowded these
shops, which displayed souvenirs, perfumes, colorful sea shells, shoes,
neckties, and women’s handbags.
Dietz noticed Biff’s interest.
“Curaçao, you know, is a free port,” he told him. “There are no duties
charged on the thousands of items for sale. That means that perfumes,
for example, which would cost fifty, a hundred dollars an ounce
elsewhere, cost only a small fraction of that amount in Curaçao.”
Biff knew this fact. He meant to buy presents for his family while in
Curaçao. He didn’t comment, though. Dietz wanted to be friends. Biff
felt it advisable to go along with him until he showed his hand more
plainly.
Another block and the limousine turned into a curving driveway and
stopped in front of a white, four-story building.
“Here we are,” Dietz said, opening the door.
As Biff got out, he noticed a small, gold-lettered sign reading: “Hotel
Del Mar.” Just before mounting the steps to the hotel lobby, Biff cast a
swift glance back in the direction from which they had come. He saw a
small sports car pull over to the curb. He wasn’t certain, but the two
figures he saw in the car could be his uncle and Derek.
“My father is here?” Biff asked, as the trio crossed the lobby to the
elevators.
“He is to meet us in a room upstairs,” Dietz replied as they entered an
elevator.
Dietz’s quick reply caused more doubts to grow in Biff’s mind. It seemed
to him that any father, unless so ill or injured as to be confined to
bed, would certainly want to meet a son who had made the long flight all
the way from Holland.
Stopping off on the fourth floor, Dietz led the way down a long corridor
to a room at the end. He took out a key and inserted it in the lock. He
didn’t knock, Biff noticed. “Pretty rude,” he commented mentally, as
Dietz pushed the door open.
“Enter, Derek,” Dietz said.
Biff preceded the two men into the room. One quick glance showed him it
was empty. He heard the door close behind him and the key turn.
Turning around swiftly, Biff challenged Dietz, saying, “My father—he’s
not here. And he has never been here. You know that. Why was I brought
here?”
Dietz’s reply was surprising.
“You are very clever, for one so young,” Dietz said smoothly. “No, your
father is not here.”
“Then where is he? I demand that you take me to him at once.”
“You must be patient. Allow me to explain.”
“It’s about time you did!”
Specks was standing with his back to the door, as if expecting Biff to
try to force his way out of the room.
“It would have been highly dangerous for us to have taken you directly
to your father,” Dietz continued his explanation.
“Go on,” Biff demanded.
“Has your father written you about a man who was once in his employ?”
Dietz asked.
“He may have, and he may not. That is my business and my father’s,” Biff
answered in an angry voice.
“Ah ... and would that man’s name be Charles Keene?” Dietz went on
smoothly.
Now here was a twist, Biff thought. This is an angle to explore more
thoroughly.
“I may have heard that name,” Biff said. “To be truthful, I have.”
“Then you must know that this Charles Keene represents a great danger to
your father and what he has worked for so long.”
This situation was growing more and more weird. Dietz was talking about
Biff’s favorite uncle, but not knowing it, of course. Dietz was
completely convinced that Biff was Derek and thought he was telling
Derek Zook about a complete stranger. Biff already was beginning to get
an idea of what Dietz was leading up to. The double-cross was becoming
clearer. What Dietz didn’t know was that he was double-crossing himself.
“Keene was discharged by your father. For good reason. But this made
Keene furious. He swore revenge on your father.” Dietz paused.
Biff could just see his Uncle Charlie’s expression when he passed
Dietz’s story on to him.
“We knew that Keene would be at the airport to meet you—”
“How could you have known?” Biff asked. The only way Dietz _could_ have
gotten this information was directly from Uncle Charlie. Derek’s arrival
evidently had not been foreseen, or Derek would have expected to be met.
But his, Biff’s, arrival, had been planned by his uncle. Why would Uncle
Charlie have passed this word on to Dietz? That question was a real
puzzler. Biff felt he might get more of the answer by letting Dietz go
on with his lying explanation.
“We have kept a close watch on Keene’s actions.”
That’s for sure, Biff thought.
“We knew he planned to meet you at the airport. It was his intention to
prevent a meeting between you and your father until he could extract
certain valuable information from your father. Only then would he permit
you to join him.”
“And just where do you come in on this?” Biff asked.
“Ah—we are your father’s friends. We have worked closely with him. That
is why he asked us to meet you.”
Dietz was digging a bigger hole for himself to fall into. Since he
thought Biff was Derek, Dietz had no idea, of course, of how he was
giving himself away.
“We had arranged to stop at this hotel just in case Keene tried to
follow us. I was sure that he would try. He wants to know where your
father is. But I am equally certain that we have eluded him.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Mr. Dietz,” Biff said to himself.
Aloud, he said, “And how can you be sure?”
“I go now to make certain. I will look around most carefully. If I do
not see Keene, then it will be safe for us to take you to your father.
Specks, here, will stay with you to protect you.”
Biff wasn’t fooled. He knew that Specks was being left behind to keep
him from escaping. From the wily smile on Dietz’s face, Biff knew that
whatever the plan was, Dietz thought it was moving ahead smoothly. Biff
smothered a crazy desire to laugh. Dietz’s plan would be working out
successfully if the real Derek were here.
One thing was very clear to Biff as Specks locked the door behind Dietz.
These men did not know where Derek’s father was. They were stalling. The
whole elaborate story Dietz had woven showed that. His plan must have
been to get Uncle Charlie to lead him to Derek’s father. Dietz had
figured he could do this if he could get to Derek first. When Charles
Keene failed to meet Derek, he would have to go to Zook and explain.
Dietz probably had planted a man at the airport to spot and follow
Keene.
“And this all started,” Biff said to himself, stretching out in a
comfortable chair, “when I wanted to play a practical joke on my uncle
by having him think Derek was I.”
Then it dawned on Biff. He couldn’t have played it the way Uncle Charlie
had wanted any better if Uncle Charlie himself had planned the switch in
identities. It looked to Biff now as if Uncle Charlie didn’t know where
Derek’s father was, either.
Parts of the whole puzzling experience had fallen into place. But there
were more pieces still to be fitted together.
Uncle Charlie would know the answers. But where was he? Nearly half an
hour had passed since Dietz had left the room. Specks, sprawled in a
chair, still watched Biff closely.
Idly, Biff rose and strolled across the room and sauntered out on the
balcony. He could feel Specks’ eyes following him, but the man made no
move.
On the balcony, Biff understood Specks’ inactivity. There was little
chance of getting out of the room this way. The drop to the water below
was at least seventy-five feet—straight down.