The Best of Argosy #8 - Minions of the Shadow Read online

  “You are,” said Millicent. “But I’m not. Harvey! I just thought of something... Why not try to put Pembroke out of business? Find some evidence of his crooked work, and force him to let you dictate Party policies. Then you can support Danvers and everything will be sweetness and light!”

  Harvey looked thoughtful, while Omega emitted a disgusted snort.

  “It’s an idea,” Harvey said. “I’d like to do something to make up for the years that I’ve been running a crooked department. It’ll be cleaned up from now on, of course, but I’d be really doing the city a service if I could clean house in other departments. I think...”

  “How about Fowler?” asked Millicent. “He might know something you could hold over Pembroke’s head. Or show you how to discover something.”

  Harvey was silent for several minutes. Then he slowed the car and reversed its direction.

  “He might be able to help at that,” he finally said. “Suppose we postpone the night’s festivities until some other time. I’d like to go over some things in my files...”

  “WHAT’S all this got to do with preventing the murder? It looks more like things are leading toward a murder, rather than away from one. The way Harvey used to be, he’d never have suspected that anything was wrong with the city’s management. Now he’s all set to monkey with things better left alone.”

  “Tut, tut. You are always the one who’s trying to reform things. Wouldn’t you like to see the taxpayer get a square deal?”

  “Sure, sure. But Harvey isn’t the one to start a reform. Don’t forget he was a friend of mine. Went to the same schools together. I don’t like to see you pushing him toward a peck of trouble.”

  “Don’t be silly. He was due to be involved in a murder before I interfered. Therefore, anything I’ve done tends to influence later events so that either the murder won’t happen, or Harvey won’t be involved. Q.E.D. Don’t forget that creek.”

  “Sounds logical,” Mark admitted. “But it looks to me as if he’s stretching out his neck.”

  Chapter 9: Big Chief Omega

  THE telephone was emitting a discordant jangle when Harvey let himself into his apartment. It had been ringing for some time, for he had heard it when he opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. He snatched it up now.

  The voice at the other end was so excited that he didn’t recognize it at first. After a minute it became coherent and he realized that it was Fowler, urging him to lock and barricade his door and wait until he arrived.

  Harvey hung up, quite puzzled, but didn’t bother to barricade the door. He did, however, turn out the lights and wait by the window. Nobody could enter the building without being seen from that vantage point.

  Less than ten minutes passed when a taxi roared down the street and slid to a stop in front of the door. Fowler bounced out of the rear, stuffed bills into the driver’s hand, and dashed for the door. Harvey let him in, whereupon he slumped in a chair to get his breath.

  “What’s the trouble?” Harvey, asked. “You’re puffing as if you’d ran over here, instead of riding.”

  Fowler’s respiration slowly returned to normal. “Thank God I’ve found you, boy. I’ve been chasing all over town for you. You’re in grave danger!”

  Harvey listened attentively as Fowler told of his interview with Pembroke, and of seeing him telephoning. “He was calling Bonzetti, sure as you’re born,” Fowler finished. “And it won’t end with just kidnapping. Bonzetti will have to protect himself by killing you and disposing of your body in such a way that it will never be found. You’ve got to be on guard every minute!”

  Harvey was silent for several minutes. Fowler was obviously terrified — which meant that regardless of his petty thievery and deceit in the past, he was still Harvey’s friend. Nelson’s scale of values underwent another sudden revision. For Fowler wasn’t a man of great physical courage; yet he had knowingly risked...

  “Jim,” he said. “How would you like to be mayor?”

  “Boy! You’re delirious. Can’t you understand that you’re in danger? We’ve got to hire a bodyguard. One for me, too,” he added.

  “There isn’t a single reason why you shouldn’t be mayor. You’ve spent all your life in the service of this city. You’ve proven yourself to be a man of deep-seated integrity, and only interested in the public welfare. You’ve given unstintedly of your time...”

  Fowler’s eyes were assuming a decided poppish aspect. “Cut it out, son,” he said. “There’s no use being sarcastic.”

  “I’m talking about what the voters know to be a fact,” Harvey explained. “Who knows any different?”

  FOWLER looked a bit sad. “Pembroke,” he answered. “He knows enough to put me behind bars. Though of course I’ve put away enough money to pay for good lawyers. I might get out with a light sentence or maybe none at all. But that would leave me broke. And Pembroke would hand over the evidence, the minute he found I was bucking him. He may anyway, if he thinks I’ve spilled to you.”

  “Don’t you have anything on him?”

  “Same stuff he has on me,” replied Fowler. “Graft; diversion of public funds, and all that. But he’s got it on me in black and white. All I could do would be to holler, and he’d cover himself with his control of the courts. Don’t forget he owns a newspaper, too. He’d whitewash himself thoroughly, saying that I was trying to get revenge with my wild accusations.”

  “He won’t come out with that evidence,” Harvey stated. “I’ve got something that’ll stop him. And he can’t white-wash himself with Uncle Sam. He’s an accessory to kidnapping, and that’s a federal offense, with a death penalty attached.”

  Fowler’s eyes popped and he sputtered futilely. It was almost a minute before he could speak coherently. “Have you gone nuts?” he finally exploded. “You can’t prove an accessory before the fact, when the fact hasn’t happened!”

  Harvey nodded. “Before and after,” he stated. “Because that kidnapping is going to happen.”

  Fowler groaned as he saw the lines of Nelson’s jaw harden, and saw what was in his mind. “Boy, boy,” he wailed. “Don’t do anything so foolish. Bonzetti isn’t any amateur. He’s thorough and efficient.”

  Harvey snorted. “A petty gangster,” he pronounced. “I’ll be ready for him. And when he kidnaps me, I’ll get a confession out of him, naming Pembroke. We’ll use that as a lever to elect you. Then we’ll clean up the city departments until they shine.”

  “THAT’S him, all right,” Mark groaned. “Afraid of nothing and silly enough to buck any odds to uphold a principle. He hasn’t changed a bit!”

  Omega’s mental voice was a bit dubious. “Hasn’t changed... Oh yes he has. He’s suspicious now. He used to be gullible. That’s bound to change things. They won’t happen as they would have.”

  “Of course they won’t! He’ll get murdered himself, instead of just being suspected of one!”

  “Aw, quit worrying. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

  FOWLER shook his head miserably. “It won’t work,” he said. “You’ll never get away, once Bonzetti gets hold of you. He’s dangerous, I tell you.”

  Nelson smiled confidently. “He never kidnapped me,” he said. “Listen, Jim. We’d better make sure that this really happens. As it stands now, it’s merely guesswork, based on a phone call you didn’t hear. Suppose we tell Pembroke we intend to run you on an independent ticket. Knowing that without the fifty-second ward he can’t hope to elect Danvers, he’s sure to put Bonzetti to work. That’s it! Call for me about nine in the morning.”

  Fowler left, a scared and puzzled man. He couldn’t reconcile this new Nelson with the man he had always been able to wrap around his finger with a smooth line of chatter. Now Harvey Nelson was taking the initiative, ordering him around!

  LIGHT streamed through the window when Harvey awakened, and the angle indicated that the morning was well on its way. Harvey blinked and tried to get his thoughts into focus. He was looking at the ceiling while so occupied, and hence
didn’t notice for some minutes that he wasn’t alone.

  “I’m surprised at you,” said a voice which he recognized immediately as being his own, which meant that it was Omega’s. “Going out of your way to get us kidnapped.”

  “What do you mean?” Harvey began, then stopped in amazement. He had involuntarily faced the direction of the voice, and was shocked grievously as a result. For Omega seemed to have taken solid form!

  Harvey looked for several seconds before he realized the truth of the situation. Omega was sitting on a chair, clad in a neat blue serge suit, fawn-colored gloves, gray socks and brown shoes. White shirt and a brown tie with yellow stripes — something Harvey had been given for Christmas — completed the outfit.

  Aside from the clashing colors there was only one thing wrong with the picture — the face. The face, in fact the whole bead, was that of a ferocious Indian of the old Wild West!

  Harvey stared at it for some time before he recognized it. Probably that was because the bronzed neck protruded from one of Harvey’s own collars, and the feathered headdress had been broken off and the shaven scalp covered by his favorite derby; for Harvey had seen that face a thousand times. It had, in fact, stared at him inscrutably every day for the past ten years. The face belonged to a life-sized clay bust of an Indian brave, and had adorned his mantlepiece ever since he had taken this apartment.

  Harvey realized that Omega’s impalpable presence had merely occupied the assorted articles of clothing, holding them — and the outraged bust — in then-proper positions. There was only one puzzling factor.

  “How can you be over there?” he asked, looking behind him in the bed. “The light’s casting you against the headboard.”

  “I’ve been practicing,” said Omega cheerfully, getting up and walking back and forth. “I found that I’m also cast in a dozen directions by reflected ultra-violet rays. They’re also light waves, you know, though quite invisible. It seems that I’m free to move about quite a bit, as long as I don’t get too — Oops!”

  The Indian’s head suddenly fell through the suit of clothes and landed with a dull thud on the floor. This happened when Omega approached the opposite wall, some fifteen feet from Harvey. “Too far away,” he continued. “I’ve been practicing walking for the last hour. Thought I’d better let you sleep.”

  As he talked, the clothes and the Indian head jerked themselves closer to the bed and laboriously rearranged themselves.

  “Take it easy with that suit,” Harvey cautioned. “It cost me fifty dollars. Say! I hope you don’t intend to go around with me in that rig!”

  “Why not? It’s better than nothing,” Omega claimed. “I felt naked before I thought this one up. Not bad, not bad.

  A full-length mirror in a closet door claimed his attention. Tentatively, he bulged the place where a chest belonged, but finding that it made unsightly wrinkles and threatened the upper vest buttons, he desisted and contented himself with assuming the shape of the garments — which wasn’t bad, either.

  “Say, I look just like you,” Omega observed.

  Harvey snorted and started for the bathroom. Omega nimbly followed as Harvey tried to close the door.

  “Scram!” growled Harvey, trying vainly to push him outside. “A man’s entitled to some privacy.”

  “I can’t, and you’re not,” Omega said, amiably. “I’ll wash your back.”

  Chapter 10: Snatched Tonight, Gone Tomorrow

  FOWLER appeared, panting and with quivering jowls, at the stroke of nine. He looked apprehensive at the sight of Omega, who was again posing before the mirror. He had never seen an Indian, leaning forward with his eyes shaded by a gloved hand, glaring at himself in a looking glass.

  But then there were a lot of things Fowler had never seen, or even imagined. He had been trying vainly, for several hours, to see himself at the head of a clean city government. He couldn’t, in fact, imagine a clean city government. There was no such animal; and if such a beast were created, it would die of its own nauseating virtue.

  “Friend of mine,” Harvey introduced. “Been a close associate for years. Mr. Omega — Mr. Fowler.”

  Fowler still looked puzzled, but rallied to the occasion. He stretched forth a hand and beamed. All three chins beamed with him. His expression became a bit sickly, however, as he felt the pressure of the gloved hand. Not a feature of the redoubtable Mr. Omega changed as he turned loose a guttural: “Ugh!”

  It was more than an hour later, after Harvey and Fowler had consumed hearty breakfasts — only marred by the grim countenance of Omega, who refused to eat — when Harvey’s sedan stopped before a large downtown building. On the way up in the elevator Harvey coached Fowler on the way he should talk. It was necessary that Pembroke think that with Nelson out of the way, he would still be able to manipulate the fifty-second ward’s vote.

  THERE was a girl in the outer office of Pembroke’s private suite. Her duty was mainly to see that nobody without an appointment gained entrance to the inner sanctum. This duty she habitually performed with utmost efficiency.

  Unfortunately, however, she had never had any experience with amorous Indians. Omega, when she had shown the austere side of her nature by demanding that they return later with an appointment, decided that she needed a bit of thawing. She took one look at his expressionless face and fled, leaving the door to Pembroke’s office entirely unguarded.

  Pembroke’s first reaction to their sudden, unannounced entry was a frown, but he quickly changed it to an affable grin when he saw Nelson. “Well, well,” he said. “Harvey Nelson! Don’t often see you down here. How’s everything up at the fifty-second?”

  He stood up, very much at ease, and shook hands heartily with Harvey Nelson.

  “Fine, Mr. Pembroke,” said Harvey. “Things are lined up pretty well in my ward. That’s what I came down here to talk about. We think it’s about time we had a little say in the matter of candidates for a change.”

  Pembroke sobered instantly. He looked at Fowler, who fidgeted uncomfortably. “What’s on your mind?” he finally asked.

  Harvey spoke calmly.

  “Just this: Fowler’s a pretty popular man in my ward. I’ve decided he ought to be mayor. We’d like the support of the Party.”

  Pembroke’s jaw dropped perceptibly. He fumbled for a pack of cigarettes which lay on his desk, and succeeded in placing two fingers in an open inkwell. He snorted in disgust at the damage to his formerly immaculate nails. It was a full minute before he got control of himself sufficiently to compose his face into its usual affable expression.

  “Fowler’s a good man,” he pronounced. “But the Party leaders have already decided on Danvers. We’ve already started our newspaper buildup. It would be a little late to change now, without jeopardizing the nomination. The reform groups are pretty strong this year, you know.

  “Suppose we just let things ride and put Fowler up next election. In the meantime, that is, after this election is over, we can keep him in the public eye, so that he’ll be better known when the time comes. You’ve got to go at these things gradually, you know.”

  Harvey heard him out, then shook his head vehemently. “I want Fowler nominated for this election. He’ll carry my ward without any buildup. A little support from you, and we can put him in. If you don’t agree, I’ll run him on an independent ticket. I can elect him anyway, considering some of the things I know about Danvers.”

  Pembroke frowned again, and turned to inspect Omega to cover his own confusion. “Who’s he?” he demanded.

  “He represents the Indian vote,” Harvey told him.

  Omega raised his hand in what he conceived to be an Indian salute, but Pembroke was not impressed.

  “Nonsense! There isn’t a single Indian on the registration lists. What do you think about this, Fowler?”

  Fowler fidgeted some more. He scraped his feet on the thick rug, and looked everywhere but directly at Pembroke. After a minute he answered hesitantly.

  “I was against it, at first,” h
e revealed. “You’ve been so set on Danvers, you know. But Nelson won’t have it any other way. So I finally agreed to run. Listen, boss... Don’t fly off the handle. Remember yesterday when we were talking about candidates? We never even considered me. Maybe it won’t be such a bad idea after all. We always got along before and there’s no reason —”

  Fowler stopped, stricken dumb for the moment. Pembroke’s face was the reason. It was livid with rage. The Party boss, judging by his expression, was about to have a stroke, he jumped up from his desk and began pacing the floor in short, jerky strides. This seemed to have a beneficial effect, in spite of the fact that Omega apparently decided that he should help by keeping step at his side. Eventually Pembroke stopped pacing and faced Harvey.

  “Pardon me,” he said, in full control of his voice. “But I was so set on electing Danvers that I couldn’t see your perfectly reasonable arguments. But you’re right. Fowler could be elected just as well. I’ll go along with you. Danvers can wait till next election. Shake on it!”

  Harvey, apparently as pleased as he should be, shook hands with the Party boss. Fowler did likewise, beaming all over his face. Omega said, “Ugh!” and snatched Pembroke’s cigarette from his mouth and tried to puff it. He didn’t do so well, but Harvey managed to cover him up by distracting Pembroke’s attention.

  “He’s not used to cigarettes,” said Harvey. “But he left his peace pipe home.”

  Omega said, “Ugh!” again.

  The three visitors left on that happy note, with Pembroke smilingly bidding them goodbye and assuring them that he’d get the publicity wheels in motion to push Fowler for mayor.

  “I don’t like it,” said Fowler, climbing into the back of Harvey’s car. “He didn’t make near the fuss I expected him to. He’s got something up his sleeve.”

  “Sure he has,” agreed Harvey. “You missed the point, Jim. He’s going to announce the candidacy of Danvers in the next edition of the sheet. And I’ll be kidnapped before tomorrow!”