Plan of Action
Two happier people couldn’t be found among the gay crowds of tourists
swarming the streets of Willemstad than Biff Brewster and Charlie Keene.
They were standing at the bottom of the steps leading from the French
consulate.
“We pulled it off, Biff. We really outfoxed Dietz,” Charlie said
exultantly.
“We sure did. But I was kind of shaky in there for a few moments. I mean
when the referee asked about the matching pearl.”
Uncle Charlie laughed. “You felt like the best man at the wedding who
forgot where he had put the ring, eh?”
Biff and his uncle had spent all their time before appearing at the
Claims Division in looking for Derek. They had gone to the Zook home,
long closed since Brom Zook had been in Martinique and Derek in Holland.
They thought the boy might have gone there to hide.
They had also inquired at a small boarding house where Brom Zook had
stayed on his infrequent trips to Curaçao. No sign or word of Derek
anywhere. They had come to the conclusion that Dietz must be holding the
Dutch boy.
“Yep, Biff, we’ve established Brom Zook’s rights to the claim, and
we’ve got the matching pearls. Pretty good day’s work, I’d say.
Couldn’t have done it without you, though. My compliments to you,
Biff-Derek-Zook-Brewster.”
Biff laughed. “I’d like to get back to being just Biff Brewster again.
Impersonating Derek Zook gets pretty rough at times.”
Uncle Charlie wasn’t listening. Biff had given him the papers
establishing the claim and the two pearls. Uncle Charlie was examining
the pearls.
“Real beauties, aren’t they? And valuable, too.”
“What do you think they’re worth, Uncle Charlie?”
“Hmmm ... several thousand dollars at least. They’d make a perfect pair
of earrings for some exotic movie star or Italian countess or a member
of the British nobility. Not worth a big fortune, but a considerable
one. A pearl collector would probably want them at any price named.”
“And there’s plenty more where they came from,” Biff suggested.
“You’re right, there are.”
Biff was quiet. His thoughts were now back on Derek. True, he and his
uncle had preserved Derek and his father’s pearl fishery claim, but
unless they could find Derek and Brom Zook, what they had done so far
was valueless.
“Uncle Charlie, we’ve just got to find Derek now.”
Charles Keene frowned. “I know it, Biff.”
“We can’t let Dietz find out that it wasn’t Derek who appeared before
the claims referee. If he does, he could upset our applecart but good.”
“Yes. And it still has to be the real Derek who signs for the working
permit in Martinique. Your impersonation can’t go to the extreme of
signing Derek’s name.”
Biff glanced down the street. His eyes came to rest on the sleek, black
limousine which had brought Dietz to the Claims Division. It was the
same car in which Biff had ridden from the airport to the hotel. Looking
at it gave Biff an idea.
“Look, Uncle Charlie. If Dietz did get Derek, he must still be holding
him. Right?”
His uncle nodded his head in agreement.
“Although he doesn’t know it, of course, since he saw me in the Claims
office, and thought I was Derek—”
“Go on, Biff, I think I’m reading you louder and your upcoming idea is
getting clearer.”
“Thinking, as he must be, that Derek somehow escaped, wouldn’t he let
his guard down now? He must figure the game is almost up.”
“Yes, that’s how I’d figure it myself,” Charlie replied. “And how wrong
I’d be!”
“Exactly. So, believing Derek must have escaped, wouldn’t Dietz feel it
no longer necessary to take any precautions in returning to his
hide-out?”
“I get you, Biff. Following him ought to be a cinch now.”
“What are we waiting for then? Let’s get in your car and wait for Dietz
and Specks to come out.”
The two walked over to Charlie Keene’s small, low-slung, two-seater
sports car. They climbed in and waited. Keene’s car was parked four cars
removed from the black limousine. The cars intervening gave Biff and his
uncle a good spot from which to observe, without too much chance of
being seen themselves.
Five minutes passed before a dejected Dietz and his pal Specks came out
of the building. They got into the limousine, Specks at the wheel, and
pulled away. Uncle Charlie started up his car and slipped into the thick
traffic behind. There was little chance of their pursuing car being
noticed by Dietz in the crowded downtown streets.
As Dietz’s limousine reached the northern outskirts of the city, traffic
thinned. Charlie dropped back half a block, still keeping the black car
within easy vision.
Once the city was left behind, Specks speeded up. The limousine roared
along the road. Charlie let it pull away although he didn’t have to. His
sports car was much the faster of the two.
“Aren’t you afraid we’ll lose him, Uncle Charlie?” Biff asked, worried.
“Not a chance, Biff. This road goes only one place. The end of the
island. No major turnoffs. If we stick too close on his tail, he might
spot us. I just want to keep the car in sight.”
They remained a good half mile behind the black car. Each time it
rounded a curve and disappeared from sight, Biff’s worries increased.
But each time, as his uncle rounded the same curve, Biff was relieved to
see the black car ahead. Charlie kept the same distance between the
cars.
“Look, Uncle Charlie,” Biff cried out suddenly. “He’s turning off.”
Charlie Keene nodded his head and tramped down heavily on the
accelerator. The sports car leaped ahead. It roared down the road,
rapidly closing the gap to the spot the black car had turned off. As
they neared it, Charlie slowed. They came to a jagged road, angling off
to the right.
“That’s where they turned,” Biff said.
Charlie nodded his head, but kept on going.
“Aren’t you going to turn in?” Biff asked anxiously.
“Not right away. We’re too close behind them.”
Charlie continued on down the paved road for a quarter of a mile, then
U-turned and came back. He cut to the left into the rough road they had
just passed, pulled up, and cut his motor.
Biff and Charlie got out. Charlie went ahead, inspecting the road. It
was composed of sand and crushed shells.
“This is it, Biff. I’m positive. See those deep tracks? Hasn’t been time
for the sand to have shifted and run back to fill them in. These roads
with sand show tracks much as a snow-covered road does.”
Biff was convinced. Not only by his uncle’s skill at picking out fresh
tracks, but because he hadn’t seen any other road in that vicinity. It
had to be the road the black car had just turned down.
“Let’s figure our next move, Biff,” Charlie said. The two got back into
the sports car.
“I think I know where we are. There used to be a big estate somewhere
around here. It’s been closed up for some years. There’s one large
house, a hacienda, and several smaller outbuildings. An ideal place to
hide out, particularly if you wanted to hold someone prisoner. Let’s put
our plotting machine to work for a few minutes.”
At first, Biff was all for barging right ahead, crashing right in and
demanding of Dietz the whereabouts of Derek.
“Don’t think we’d better do that, Biff,” Uncle Charlie said. “We don’t
know how many cohorts Dietz might have. He’s bound to have a servant or
two. Particularly since he had to have someone to keep a sharp eye on
Derek.”
“I see what you mean, Uncle Charlie. What’s your plan of action?” Biff
asked.
“I’ll go up to the hacienda by myself. I can keep Dietz plenty busy with
questions and accusations for a while. That will give you time to scout
around the outbuildings and search for Derek.”
“But won’t Dietz want to find out how Derek got away?”
“Perhaps. But since Dietz thinks he is gone, what good will it do him to
worry about locking the gate now that his prize has fled?”
Biff nodded his head. Then another thought came to him.
“But won’t the guard who let Derek get away be so worried and scared
he’ll report to Dietz at once?” Biff asked.
“Whoa, there, my boy. You’re beginning to think like Dietz. Why should
the guard be upset? He still has Derek, hasn’t he?”
“I forgot, Uncle Charlie,” Biff said sheepishly.
“Okay, let’s move on.”
They drove for about two miles along the winding sand-shell road until
they came to the arched opening in the pink-stone wall.
“This is where we part for a while,” Uncle Charlie said. “I’ll drive on
up to the hacienda. You wait until you see me enter. Then make like a
beagle and sniff out the other buildings fast.” Charlie looked at his
watch. “I’ve got six-fifteen. How ’bout you?”
“The same.”
“Okay, Biff. We’ll rendezvous outside this gate at exactly six
forty-five. It will still be light by then. But darkness comes fast.
Night falls as fast as a theater curtain in the tropics. One minute it’s
daylight. The next it’s dark. Dusk lasts about one minute. All set?”
“Right. And I hope you see double when we rendezvous.”
“See double?” Uncle Charlie was momentarily puzzled.
“Derek _and_ me,” Biff said, grinning.
“Oh. I get you. Guess I’d stopped thinking clearly for a moment this
time. Good luck, Biff.”
Charles Keene started the car and drove toward the hacienda.
Biff waited until he saw him enter the building. When the door closed
behind his uncle, Biff, keeping close to the wall, started out on his
bird-dogging expedition.
Fortunately for Biff, the grounds had been landscaped. Palm trees, low
palmetto bushes, and flower gardens, now filled with rank, weedy growth,
gave him plenty of cover to scout around.
The first two buildings he inspected were empty. A third, smaller
building, well removed from the main house, looked like the next likely
place. As Biff approached it, he noticed that the windows of the
building were barred.
[Illustration: _Biff noticed that the windows of the building were
barred_]
Biff crept silently up to the building. He pressed close to the wall of
the stone house and worked his way around to its rear. Cautiously he
raised his head until his eyes were at the level of the window. He
looked into the room.
Once more he was looking at himself in a mirror. This time Derek’s
expression was even more startled than when the two boys had first met
at the Miami airport.