Turnabout
Biff walked along the lonely, winding road, alert, ears tuned for any
sound, and admitting frankly to himself that his nerves were on edge. It
was nearly eleven o’clock by the time he reached the gate. The only
light at the house was the single, bare bulb illuminating the front
porch.
Was Dietz back? Had they all gone to bed? Biff didn’t think so. He
slipped through the gate. Keeping in the shadows as much as possible, he
went up to the house. He couldn’t hear a sound from within. He moved
around to the rear, peeking through every window he passed. Nothing
stirred. The silence was creepy. Biff felt he would welcome even Dietz.
Now that he had decided on this course, he wanted to get started. He
wanted to see Dietz’s reaction when “Derek” delivered himself into the
hands of his enemy.
The sound of a car came to Biff’s ears from a distance. He ran swiftly
back to the gateway, and scurried into the hiding place in which he had
concealed himself before.
Just in time, too. The black limousine came up the road, passed through
the gate, and drew up in front of the porch. Dietz got out. Crunch got
out. Biff could see Dietz speak to Crunch. The big Indian bowed his head
and walked off in the direction of the small house where Biff had first
seen him.
“Good,” Biff said half aloud. “At least, I won’t have to worry about
Crunch being present when I go up there.”
He waited a few minutes more. Specks returned from parking the car,
joined Dietz, who had waited on the porch, and the two men entered the
house. The porch light went off. Lights inside the house came on.
“Well, it’s now or never. This is it, Biff Brewster. Get hold of
yourself and start moving.”
Biff crossed the yard again and mounted the steps leading to the porch.
His heart was pounding. He swallowed, but the lump in his throat stayed
where it was. Biff’s knuckles rapped on the door. He stepped back. He
heard footsteps approaching. The door opened. It was Specks.
Specks’ mouth dropped open in amazement. His face went pale. The red
blotches on his cheeks became even redder against the whiteness of his
skin.
“Who is it, Specks?” Biff heard Dietz call.
Specks didn’t answer. He was speechless.
“Who’s there?” Dietz called again. “What is it? Specks!” he snapped.
“What’s happened to you?”
Biff stepped forward.
“May I come in?”
As he stepped inside the house, Specks took a step backward. He must
have thought he was seeing a ghost. Just then Dietz came into the
hallway. He took one look at Biff, and the glass he was holding in one
hand dropped to the floor.
“Zook! Derek Zook!”
Dietz was as astonished as Specks. But being quicker-witted than his
partner, Dietz got over his amazement faster.
“It’s Zook. Grab him, Specks!”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Dietz,” Biff said boldly. “I have come
here on my own.”
Still not believing what he saw or heard, Dietz came up to Biff. He
placed a hand on Biff’s arm, as though trying to assure himself that the
boy was real.
Biff brushed past the two men and walked down the hallway to a door
which led into a living room. He walked in, picked out a comfortable
chair, and sat down in it as calmly as if he were in his own home in
Indianapolis.
Still somewhat dazed, Dietz entered the room and stared at Biff. Specks
stood in the doorway, shaking his head.
Dietz recovered his poise.
“What are you doing here? Why have you come back?” he demanded.
“This is going to be fun,” Biff thought. “Didn’t know I was going to
knock them for this much of a loop.” Aloud, he said:
“I haven’t been away.”
“You mean—you mean all the time we were in Willemstad looking for you,
you were right here!”
“Most of the time,” Biff answered truthfully.
“Go get Crunch,” Dietz ordered Specks. A gleam had come into his eyes.
He was getting ready to take over.
“Now you tell me why you have come back here,” Dietz said to Biff, and
walked over to the chair where Biff was sitting.
“I want information,” Biff said. “I want to know where my father is.”
“Oh, you do. And you think I’ll tell you just for the asking.” Dietz’s
laugh was more of a sneer.
“We may be able to make a bargain,” Biff said.
Dietz leaned forward. A hungry look spread over his face.
“You mean if I tell you where your father is—” he began.
“I might persuade him to cut you in on the pearl fishery. That’s what
you want, isn’t it?”
Dietz didn’t reply. He walked across the room and stood by a long, low
table. His hand went to his head. He rubbed his scalp. His long silence
worried Biff. It was obvious that some scheme was forming in Dietz’s
mind. He came back to Biff.
“I’ll tell you where your father is if you’ll tell me the exact location
of the pearl fishery.” Dietz poked his crafty face close to Biff’s.
Biff could hardly suppress a smile. He knew that neither one of them
could give the other the information asked for. Biff didn’t know where
the pearl fishery was. He also knew that Dietz didn’t know where Brom
Zook was. This was going to be a cat-and-mouse game. Biff just hoped it
could be played long enough for his uncle and Derek to get things firmed
up in Martinique.
“Can you take me to my father?”
“Not until you give me the information I want,” Dietz replied.
“Is he here in Curaçao, or in Martinique?” Biff asked this question to
stall for more time. He knew Dietz couldn’t give him an honest answer.
Before Dietz could reply, Specks returned. The giant Crunch was behind
him.
“Now, young man, you’ll find out just what a fool you were not to stay
away from here once you had made your escape,” Dietz declared.
The tide was running against Biff. There was a look of triumph on
Dietz’s evil face.
“I came here with a fair proposition for you,” Biff said.
“Fair? Never heard the word,” Dietz replied, his voice scornful. “You’ve
walked and talked yourself right into being my prisoner again. And this
time, Crunch will make sure you don’t escape.”
Biff looked at the powerful Crunch. There was a big, silly smile on his
face. He clenched and unclenched his hands, as if he could hardly wait
to get Biff in his grip.
“You young fool,” Dietz said. “Don’t you know you and Keene can’t get
the working permit to that fishery unless you sign for it?”
“But neither can you.”
“Ha! That’s what you think. It so happens, you stupid boy, that I have a
friend in the Fisheries Commission on Martinique. You and Keene may have
stopped me once. But you won’t again. Crunch, take him away. And this
time, if you let him escape—” Dietz drew the edge of his hand across his
throat “—that’s what you’ll get.”
Crunch crossed to Biff’s chair. He seized Biff by one arm and lifted him
out of the chair as if he weighed no more than a rag doll.
Biff knew it would be foolish to resist. His plan had backfired.
Why, he thought, with a sinking feeling, hadn’t he or Uncle Charlie
realized that Dietz, thinking Biff to be Derek, would hold him, and make
for Martinique as fast as he could? Biff realized now that, far from
delaying Dietz’s trip to Martinique, he had afforded him the chance to
go there sooner.
He knew this all too well as Crunch forced him down the hallway toward
the door. He heard Dietz say to Specks:
“We leave for Martinique in the morning.”