The Ruby Ray Mystery Page 4

  The boys got going. A few blocks up the street and the signal faded. They retraced their steps. A few blocks down the street and it faded again. They went back to where it was the loudest. The Megabuck units indicated that the noise was most intense at an angle 90

  degrees to the street.

  There was a cross street a few hundred feet away. They walked to it and turned right.

  The signal began to fade again. They walked back, crossed the street where they had left the taxi, and the signal began to gain in strength.

  Another block and another cross street.The signal began to fade. They went back to the intersection and tried the opposite direction. The signal grew louder. They kept going, and it faded again.

  Step after weary step, by trial and error, the boys finally found the right street. It was the

  Rue St. Germaine. Halfway down the street, workmen were opening a sewer, using air hammers. A few yards from the sewerwas the Citroen.

  The boys stopped long enough to shake hands.

  “As I said earlier,” Scotty stated, “this affair will be known to history as the Orly Ploy.

  And why will it be remembered?”

  “Only because it worked,” Rick said. “Well, we know now where the sedan is. But where is Dr. Keller?”

  Scotty added, “And, if I can toss in a question, how do we get the Megabuck unit back?”

  CHAPTER VI

  Rue St. Germaine

  The Rue St. Germaine was lined with apartment houses of great age but attractive appearance. Keller was surely in one of the apartments, but which one? The boys hazarded a guess that the Citroen had parked in front of the building into which Keller had been taken.

  “It’s reasonable,” Rick pointed out. “There isn’t much traffic on the street, and there are plenty of parking places. The driver would try to get as close to the building as possible.”

  Scotty nodded. “I’ll buy it.Now what?”

  They had retired to the corner of the street, out of sight of anyone in the apartments near the Citroen.

  “I wish we knew more about the back alleys ofParis ,” Rick said. “We could work our way behind the apartment houses.”

  “How about the building across the street from the sedan?”Scotty asked. “Couldn’t we get into that one, somehow, and keep an eye on the front door of the apartment house nearest the car?”

  Rick shrugged. “I suppose so. I’d rather go prowling, to try to locate Keller, but the

  chances of finding him are pretty remote, and we might get spotted. How do we get into the place across the street?”

  “Let’s try the alleys,” Scotty suggested. “There probably are alleys behind these buildings.”

  Rick led the way across Rue St. Germaine to the other side of the street from the parked Citroen. The building on this corner of the block was a substantial one, containing several stores. It was possible, Rick thought, the building had an alley for truck deliveries. He walked to the rear of the building, Scotty beside him.

  There was an alley. The boys grinned at each other. They were in luck! The alley ran parallel to the Rue St. Germaine, behind the entire block of apartment houses.

  “Here we go!” Scotty said.

  They walked down the alley, counting buildings, until they arrived at the one directly opposite the Citroen sedan. The rear of the building was a mass of balconies and stairs.

  Each balcony was almost hidden by bedding and clothing that waved in the slight breeze. Apparently it was washday inParis .

  Rick surveyed the situation. “Guess we might as well go up the stairs. The question is,Does each floor have a single apartment, or several?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Scotty said practically. “Go and see.”

  There were people on the balconies, but they paid little attention to the boys other than wishing them a polite “Bonjour,” to which the boys responded in kind. The top-floor balcony was deserted, and they paused to take stock of the situation. A long corridor ran from the center of the balcony to the front of the building. Apartments opened off the corridor, three on each side.

  “Let’s see what’s in front,” Rick said. Entering the corridor, they walked to the front of the building and arrived at a stair landing. The stairs ran down the front center of the building. On the landing was a window.

  The boys hurried to the window and looked down to the top of the Citroen. They shook hands gleefully. It was an ideal vantage point.

  “Only one small problem,” Scotty said thoughtfully. “Suppose Keller is at his final destination and doesn’t have to travel any more. We could wait here for a couple of days, and then follow him back toCopenhagen -or even back to theUnited States .”

  “It’s possible,” Rick agreed. “If that’s it, we’ll just report to Steve that he went to Paris, got picked up by a sedan at the airport-with full description and license number, which I’ve memorized-was taken to the Rue St. Germaine, number so-and-so, which we’ll get, and then returned to Copenhagen. At least we’ll have done our job.”

  Scotty nodded. “Okay. But we’d better settle in for a siege. It will be tiresome standing here at the window for hours. Besides, the apartment occupants might get curious and call the gendarmes, or whatever they call the police here.”

  “What’s your idea?” Rick asked.

  “You stay here. I’ll go reconnoiter some more. If we can get to the roof, it will be even better. Then one of us can go get some sandwiches.”

  That made good sense to Rick. “I’ll be listening. If you find a location on the roof, just call and tell me how to get there and I’ll join you.”

  Scotty nodded and hurried back down the corridor to the rear balcony. Rick settled down to wait, eyes alternately on the sedan and on the building entrance directly behind it.

  This was a curious business, he thought. Keller had checked out of the hotel, and ordered his demonstration case and bag sent to the airport by taxi. Then he had walked toTivoli , where a confederate had tried to take Scotty out of the action.

  Rick shook his head. Using an amusement-park ride to cut off a tail was pretty cute, but it also seemed pretty senseless. Anyone wanting to track Keller could do so simply by following his luggage. The only reason for the amusement-park-ride affair would be to find out if Keller actually was being tailed-and to get rid of the tail temporarily.

  He followed the thought further. Getting rid of a tail temporarily must mean that Keller was only interested in gaining a little time, without trying to cover his tracks permanently. So, whatever he was involved in must be of only short duration, perhaps a day or two. Once it ended, he didn’t care whether he was tracked down or not.

  Maybe the whole affair was coming to an end right now, in one of the apartments across the way. If so, the report to Steve Ames would be pretty short, and they would have no real idea of what had happened. Rick wondered if they would ever find out what the tall American was up to.

  Scotty’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I’m on the roof, Rick. It’s easy. Go to the rear

  balcony, and you’ll find a ladder at the extreme left.Up and over.”

  “Coming,” Rick said briefly.

  He found Scotty stretched out at full length, looking down on the street from between a pair of ornamental stone blocks which were part of the coping that topped the building.

  “Pretty neat,” he said. “We can watch lying down.”

  Scotty rolled over.“After we get some supplies in. I’ll toss you to see who goes.”

  “Okay.” Rick produced a coin.“Heads or tails?”

  “Heads.”

  Rick flipped. “It’s tails. You lose. Make mine a juicy hamburger with tomato and lettuce and lots of mayonnaise.”

  “Not inParis, son.I suspect the French consider hamburger a wanton destruction of good beef. I’ll get what I can.”

  Rick took Scotty’s place, binoculars handy, and madehimself comfortable. The construction crew was still working on the sewer, and now and then a pedestr
ian walked by, but there was no sign of life in the apartment house opposite. He surveyed the street, noting that a man in a blue beret was seated in the doorway of an apartment house four doors away from the sedan. Far up the street, near the corner, a vendor waited for customers. He carried his wares in a knapsack. In his hand he held a stick on which was strung what appeared to be oversized pretzels.

  Rick went back to his earlier line of thought. When Keller left the hotel, someone had been watching to see if the doctor had anyone following him. Keller had gone straight toTivoli , and to the amusement section, probably following earlier instructions. The unknown watcher had hurried ahead as soon as he spotted Scotty, and was waiting when the boy arrived in the chair. The unknown watcher probably had been very familiar with the ride, and had taken Keller from the chair in one of the chambers and ushered him out through a back door.

  The events of the whole affair argued that Keller had an organization behind him. Was he the boss, or a victim, or an accomplice of some sort? Anyway, Rick thought with satisfaction, the organization couldn’t possibly know that Keller had been followed to the Rue St. Germaine, even if they knew or suspected that he had been followed toParis .

  Rick doubted that they knew even that much.

  Scotty returned in less than twenty minutes. He brought ham-and-cheese sandwiches on French bread, and two bottles of spring water. The boys ate with pleasure, alternately keeping an eye on the street below.

  “I have a couple more in the knapsack,” Scotty said. “No telling when we may need rations.”

  “You’re so right,” Rick said gratefully. “Now I can watch in comfort.”

  A half hour elapsed. The sewer crew packed up and went home, leaving red lanterns on sawhorses to mark the excavation. A French gendarme in his colorful cape and pillbox hat walked past, swinging a club easily two feet long.

  Suddenly Rick gripped Scotty’s arm. The chauffeur had emerged from the building opposite, and he was carrying Keller’s bag and demonstration case!

  “Stay,” Scotty said quickly. “I’ll try to follow. If Keller comes, too, you hurry down and pick up the trail.”

  “Okay,” Rick agreed. “But hurry.”

  The chauffeur loaded the case and bag into the front seat of the Citroen, climbed into the driver’s seat, and started the motor. Rick heard the sudden roar of the exhaust in his earphone. He tensed, ready to run if Keller appeared, but the chauffeur put the sedan in gear and drove off alone. Rick waited for Scotty to appear on the street, but there was no sign of his pal as the sedan moved sedately down the Rue St. Germaine, turned the corner, and disappeared.

  The man in the blue beret had risen, showing some interest in the sedan, but as the chauffeur drove off he sat down again. If Keller had come out, would the man have tried to follow? Rick wondered. He focused the binoculars on the man’s face. The angle was wrong for a clear view, but the man seemed pretty ordinary.

  Rick settled down to wait again. The sound of the sedan’s exhaust was growing fainter.

  He turned the Megabuck unit, and brought it in a bit louder. Scotty still hadn’t appeared on the street below. Either he was hugging the buildings, so Rick couldn’t see him, or he had gone down the alley.

  After about ten minutes the faint sound of the exhaust suddenly cut off. The sedan had stopped somewhere fairly close.

  A man emerged from the apartment house opposite. He was a stranger, neatly dressed in a blue serge suit, with a gray felt hat. As he watched the man survey the street, Rick noted that Blue Beret had drawn back into the shadow of his doorway where the man couldn’t see him.

  Felt Hat walked up the street in the direction opposite to where the sedan had gone, toward Blue Beret. Blue Beret moved back, and through the door, out of sight. Felt Hat went on by, glancing into all doorways. He reached the corner. Rick noted that the pretzel vendor was no longer there.

  Felt Hat turned and walked back down the street, again surveying doorways. He continued his walk past Keller’s hideout, to the end of the block, and back again.

  Clearly, he was casing the street. Rick felt a surge of excitement. The pattern was repeating.

  Keller’s demonstration case and overnight bag had gone on ahead. Now a confederate was checking. Keller himself should emerge.

  Felt Hat was apparently satisfied. He went into the apartment house for a moment, then emerged again. This time he walked down the street in the direction the sedan had taken.

  Rick stiffened. Keller came out of the building, turned left, and followed.

  A third man, hatless, in gray slacks and sport jacket, appeared in the doorway of the building and waited a moment, surveying the street.

  Blue Beret had appeared in his doorway, but was keeping out of sight.

  Hatless, satisfied, followed Keller, about a half block behind.

  Scotty’s voice was in Rick’s ear, faint and far away. “I’m at a railroad station.TheGare de Lyon. Keller’s bags were just turned over to a porter, who is carrying them to a train.”

  Rick responded swiftly. “Keller just came out with a guard in front and a guard behind.

  Keep in touch.”

  “Okay. Incidentally, I used your gag and dropped some coins under the Citroen after the chauffeur left. I have the other unit.”

  Rick grinned. “Great. I’m on my way.”

  Pausing for one last look, he saw Blue Beret emerge from his doorway and follow

  Hatless, keeping close to the building walls, ready to duck if Hatless should turn.

  Rick shook his head in puzzlement.Quite a parade. If only he had some clue as to what was happening!

  Scotty spoke again. “If they go the way the sedan went, run down the back stairs, turn left, and follow the alley. They’ll go right past you. I got to the alley exit in time to jump on a bus and follow the Citroen. The station is right down the street. No turns. Traffic is so heavy the bus moved as fast as the car.”

  “Here I go,” Rick said. He hurried across the roof, down the ladder, down the stairs to the alley-then stopped short and hurried back up one flight.

  The pretzel vendor was running down the alley, tool

  “HolyToledo ,” Rick muttered under his breath. “What’s going on here?”

  He waited only until the pretzel vendor was past, then followed. A few cars parked in the alley served as a cover.

  Felt Hat and Keller were out of sight, but the boy saw Hatless go by the alley entrance, followed after a moment by Blue Beret. Pretzels stayed in hiding until Blue Beret was gone, then he vanished, too.

  Rick hurried to the alley entrance and peered around the corner. Pretzels was sauntering along the street as though he had nothing on his mind but selling his wares. Rick stepped out into the clear and saw Blue Beret a little distance ahead. He joined the chase, wondering if he was really the tag end of the parade, or whether someone was following him. He stepped into a doorway and examined foodstuffs in a window, using the window as a mirror. No one appeared.

  Scotty’s voice was a little louder. “The porter put tags on Keller’s luggage. The tags say

  ‘Berne.’”

  “Got it,” Rick answered swiftly. “Keep an eye on them.”

  A lady emerged from the store in time to hear Rick’s reply. She asked a question in French, probably something about whatdid he say . Rick smiled, bowed, and hurried off.

  Ahead, Blue Beret and Pretzels were held up by a traffic light, but did not seem perturbed. Moving out to the curb, Rick saw why. Hatless was still in sight down the long street, and Keller could be seen occasionally, towering over most of the pedestrians.

  Rick moved ahead. He stopped when he had closed the gap enough, and turned to look into the nearest window-in case Pretzels looked back. It was a toyshop window, already under examination by a boy about fourteen years old. The boy was whistling “Sidewalks of New York.”

  Rick looked at him with interest. He asked impulsively, “Are you an American?”

  The boy turned. “ Non , monsieur. I hav
elearn zees songeen class for English at zee ecole. Zee school, hein?”

  Rick asked, “Do you know where theGare de Lyon is?”

  “But of a certainty, monsieur. It is near.”

  “Would you like to make some francs?” Rick saw an opportunity and took it.

  “How, monsieur?”

  “I’m afraid I may have trouble making the ticket seller understand. Would you run ahead to the station and buy me two tickets?”

  “I will dozat for you.”

  “Good.” Rick had no idea how much two tickets toBerne should cost, but he thought twoU. S. twenty-dollar bills would be enough. He asked, “Will they take American money?”

  “Certainly, monsieur.”

  Rick handed him two twenties. “Good. Now, run as fast as you can. Buy two first-class tickets toBerne . I will walk along toward the station. When you get the tickets, run back and give them to me.All right?”

  He was taking a chance, of course. The boy might simply run off with the cash and never be seen again, but Rick didn’t think so. The kid was dressed neatly, and had a clean-cut look about him. Anyway, he had to take the gamble.

  The boy took off as though he had wings. Ahead, the traffic light had changed, and Pretzels was across the street. Rick followed.

  The railroad station was in sight when the French boy returned. Rick drew him into a

  doorway, and accepted the two tickets and the packet of francs. He peeled off the equivalent of five dollars and handed it to the boy. “Thank you very much.”

  “A pleasure, monsieur.Never do I make so much money so easy.”

  “You earned it,” Rick assured him.

  He watched until the boy was out of earshot, checked to make sure he could talk in privacy, and held the Megabuck unit closer to his lips.

  “Scotty, I have two first-class tickets toBerne . How are you doing?”

  “Okay. What compartment numbers?”

  Rick studied the tickets. “Carriage number five, compartment eight.”

  “Just a minute.”There was a long pause, then Scotty came on again. “The seats are two carriages away from where Keller’s things were placed. Listen, Rick, come into the station, and keep to the left-hand wall. You’ll see the trains in kind of a big shed. Ours is the one farthest left. Passengers enter on the right side, so go down the left side, and around in front of the engine, then go into the first open door you find. Counting that first carriage as number one, ours is the fourth back from the engine. I’ll meet you in our compartment.”