'This one has been forced/* he said. 'The catch is broken.'
And then he was fumbling with the grill, prying at it, forcing it wide on its hinges. The light went out, but Jeff heard the window being raised and now he was crowding close, giving the little man the boost he needed, and climbing in after him.
The room they stood in proved to be a kitchen. Jeff moved ahead into a hall and called out. 'Karen!' he said, and held his breath as the word bounced off the walls.
'Let me/* Cordovez said, pushing past him. 'I have the light-He hurried on, heels clicking hollowly on the tile floor. He opened the door on his right and sprayed light into the room. Then he seemed to recoil, inhaling through his mouth with a hissing sound.
Before he could speak, Jeff was staring over his shoulder,
seeing the figure in the white blazer spread-eagled on the bed, the dark hair on the pillow, the towel which had been tied over the mouth. When he saw the eyelids blink against the light, his relief overwhelmed him and it was Cordovez who reached the side of the bed first.
With the flashlight on the floor he began to untie one of the towels that had fastened an ankle to a bedpost and now Jeff was bending over her. He slipped the makeshift gag down over her chin and swallowed hard to clear his throat. He saw the lips move and recognition touch the wide-open eyes.
'If s O. K., baby,' he said thickly. 'It's all right. Well have these things off in a minute.'
He tugged at the towel which held a wrist extended toward one head-post and turned immediately to the other. By that time Cordovez had freed the ankles and now, as she tried to sit up, Jeff slid an arm under her shoulder and lifted her to a sitting position as her feet swung to the floor. He sat down beside her, still with his arm about her, and now he could feel her body shudder and the rib cage expand as she took a great tortured breath. When she tried to speak the sound that came forth was no more than a whisper and he touched his finger gently to her lips.
'Easy/' he said. 'Don't try to talk yet. . . . Julio, see if you can find some water/'
Julio hurried off and the light went with him. Gradually Jeff could feel her body relax and her breathing become regular. Her head was on his shoulder now and he sat very still, until reaction set in and his hand began to tremble. He did not know what to say or how to explain his gratitude and relief and finally he chuckled and kept his voice light.
'I seem to be the one that's shaking/* he said and let his arm relax. 'Julio T
'Coming.'
Then the light glowed in the hall and Julio came scurrying in holding a glass which had a light-brown tint.
'There is a little brandy with the water/' he said. 'Just a little. It will be good for you.'
Karen accepted the glass and whispered her thanks. She took a small sip and then another. She moistened her lips, flexing them slightly, and then she took a big swallow and sighed.
'Yes,'* she said. 'I needed that very much/'
Jeff told her to drink some more and when she had complied he could contain his curiosity no longer.
'Was it Miranda?' he asked.
'Miranda?' She looked at him and blinked. 'Oh, no. Spencer.'
Jeff glanced at Cordovez. It took him a long moment to accept the statement and then, perhaps because he could not so easily throw off the nervous tension which had for so long held him in its grip, he felt strangely annoyed and spoke sharply.
'I told you not to follow him/' he said. 'You promised.'
'I didn't.'
'You said you'd phone.'
'I was going to but'—she paused to look down at the glass and her tone was apologetic—'I—I wanted to tell you myself. I didn't know he had seen me. I was going to get a cab and drive right out to the apartment. I came out of the office and started up the street and Spencer came up alongside me—I didn't know who it was then—and put what felt like a gun in my side.'
She went on hurriedly to explain what had happened and when she ran out of breath she took another and said, her tone rueful:
'It wasn't even a gun. It was a pipe.'
'Where did lie take you?'
'To Ms place. He locked me in a closet and I heard him talking on the telephone and pretty soon a man came. I don't know who he was but he was big and he had a hard, twisted face. He scared me. They brought me out here. Spencer did not believe anyone would think to look for me here and—**
Jeff swore softly as rage kindled inside him. 'We'll take care of Spencer/'
'He didn't hurt me. He said he was sorry but he had to do it.'
'He tied you up/' Jeff said hotly. 'You might have been here for days.'
'No/' she protested. 'Really, He said he would mail an anonymous letter to Ramon Zumeta telling him where to find me. He said I'd have to stay here tonight but the police would come in the morning to release me. By that time he would be in New York/'
'Not now, he won't,' Jeff said.
'Yes,' Cordovez said. 'It is time to go, I think. It is better if we are waiting at Maiquetia when Spencer arrives.'
Cordovez explained the procedure when they drew up at the edge of the well-lighted plaza in front of the terminal building.
'We will park here and watch,' he said as he stepped from the car. 'He will probably come in a taxi, which will stop somewhere in this area. It will be good if we can take him before he can reach the building.' He opened his coat and his hand slipped inside, and though Jeff could not see it, he knew there was a gun tucked away somewhere. 'If you will permit it,' Cordovez added, 'I think I can handle this myself.'
'To hell with that,' Jeff said.
Tardon.**
'You take care of the taxi driver. If you talk fast you can keep Mm quiet. Spencer is mine/*
He felt the girl's hand on his arm. 'Maybe Julio's right,' she said.
'I don't care if he's right or not,' Jeff said. 'This time old Jeff gets into the act.'
He moved up alongside Cordovez and as he did so the detective hissed softly and lifted one hand.
'I think he has arrived,' he said, pointing to a taxi that had stopped about fifty feet away. 'Yes. Come,' he said and started moving fast.
Jeff stayed with him, seeing the driver step down and start for the trunk at the rear. On the opposite side, in the shadows, a man alighted and Jeff veered that way. For an instant the lights bothered him and then he was safely past them, certain now that the man was Dan Spencer. He had a blue flight bag in one hand and as he started to turn toward the rear where the driver was unlocking the trunk, Jeff called to him.
'Hey, Spencer
The man wheeled, head slightly bent as he peered through the darkness. Jeff was stiE fifteen feet away but moving fast and now, as Spencer's hand whipped back under his coattail, he closed with a rush.
He saw the hand come round, the metallic gleam of reflected light on a gun barrel but by that time he was close enough and he moved with confidence. This was what he wanted. This was what he had been waiting for, He grunted happily as he grabbed the gun barrel before it leveled off.
He heard Spencer's muffled curse, heard the flight bag drop as the reporter swung at him. After that it was no contest. For Spencer was a powder-puff. Six feet tall and ill-conditioned, he would have weighed no more than a hundred and forty in a winter suit, and when Jeff, in close
OKE MINUTE PAST EIGHT
now, hooked his right against the bony chin, that was it
The gun came free in his hand as Spencer sagged against him, Jeff held him that way, pocketing the gun and then reaching for the flight bag. When he had it, he turned the reporter about, half supporting him, half leading him as he moved on wobbly legs. What happened between Cordovez and the driver, Jeff never knew, but as usual the
