CHAPTER XIII

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.”