Spy and the Thief (28 page)

“Velvet!” Fowles called. “Come in here!”

Nick entered the living room and then a crowded businesslike study. Peter Fowles sat behind the desk, next to a cradled white telephone. “What’s the matter?”

“That was Rainey. He knows I hired you. Did you mention my name to Defoe’s daughter?”

“I might have,” Nick admitted.

“That was a mistake. A foolish mistake.” He flipped a switch by the phone. “Here, you’d better listen to this.”

Nick detected the hum of recording tape being rewound. “Do you always record your phone conversations?”

“A business necessity.”

He flipped the switch again, and Nick recognized Morris Rainey’s harsh tones.
“Fowles, we want the diamonds.”

“What diamonds? I don’t know what you’
re
talking about.”

“I want a piece of this action, Fowles. Burke’s dead, and he won’t be the last if you don’t come across. I know you hired Velvet to steal the blue horse.
”

“Oh?”

“Damned right! When we couldn’t find the diamonds we went back to the merry-go-round. We’ve got Defoe and the girl, and they’ll be the next to go. They say the diamonds were in the blue horse Velvet stole. But the girl said he mentioned your name, Fowles. Velvet took the horse for you to double cross Defoe.”

“How do you know that?”

“Velvet’s a paid operator. Look, Fowles, you got till midnight tonight to get up here with the diamonds Velvet stole. Otherwise, Defoe and the girl are dead. And they won’t be the last. Understand?
” The line clicked and went dead.

“Well,” Nick said softly.

“I didn’t think he’d react quite that way,” Fowles admitted.

Nick nodded. “I think I’m beginning to see it more clearly now. The wooden horse was a real Trojan horse after all, a bit of misdirection that you planned to fool Rainey. He knew me by sight, and you must have been aware of that fact. You hired me to steal one of the merry-go-round horses, knowing Rainey would recognize me or at least hear of my involvement. My fee and my working habits are known in the underworld. Rainey would think you were double-crossing Defoe—just what he does think—because the diamonds must be in the horse. You paid twenty thousand not for the horse but for my reputation. It was worth that much to get Rainey off your neck. Now he’s convinced you have the diamonds.”

“Right again, Velvet. Rainey knew the stuff came to the merry-go-round and somehow was hidden there. When I heard he suspected a hollow horse I got the idea of paying the well-known Nick Velvet to steal one of the horses.”

“Rainey stole a couple himself.”

“He was trying to find the right one.”

“But there is no hollow horse,” Nick said. “And now you’ll just let Rainey kill those two, won’t you?”

Fowles shifted in his chair, frowning. “That’s my problem.”

“What is?”

“I don’t give a damn about Defoe or the girl. He’s outlived his usefulness to me anyhow. But the latest packet of diamonds is still hidden there—the one Burke brought last night. Defoe knows the hiding place. If it gets down to a matter of his or his daughter’s life he’ll talk. Rainey thinks the stuff is gone, but Defoe knows it’s still there.”

“How much is the shipment worth?”

“At wholesale, about eighty thousand dollars. Retail could be double that. There are a lot of wealthy women in New York, women who like diamonds. I was bringing through two shipments a month during the summer.”

“Will you tell me where they’re hidden?”

“Hardly, Mr. Velvet!”

Nick smiled. “Then suppose I tell you.”

It was twenty minutes before midnight, on a moonless night, when Nick Velvet returned to the merry-go-round at Cartier Park. He had known all along that he would come back, because he was not the sort to leave a girl like Dot Defoe at the mercy of a killer. Perhaps he had always been something of a knight, doing battle with modern dragons, and if the Grail he sought was merely money, was he so different from most other men?

As he stepped into the lighted area in front of the carousel a squeaky voice said, “Put up your hands!”

“All right. I’m not armed.”

“Inside!”

He stepped up, entering the merry-go-round building. Morris Rainey was there, sitting on a straight-backed chair, still wearing the same rumpled suit. “Well, Nick Velvet—come to bring back the horse?”

“That’s right,” Nick said. “It’s in my car. Where are your prisoners?”

Rainey gestured toward the carousel and then Nick saw them. Defoe and his daughter were bound and gagged, sitting on two of the wooden horses. “I was just getting ready to send them on their last ride,” Rainey chuckled. “Good thing Fowles came through.”

The rat-faced gunman came in dragging the blue horse. “The diamonds aren’t here,” he said. “It’s just like the other ones we stole.”

Rainey raised his pistol, pointing it at Nick’s chest. “Where are the diamonds?” he asked.

“Some of them are here in my pocket. The rest are where Burke hid them before he was killed.”

“Burke didn’t have time to hide anything.”

Nick motioned toward his pocket. “If you’ll let me show you—”

“Frisk him,” Rainey ordered.

The rat-faced man ran his fingers over Nick’s body, removing the small package from his inside pocket. “Here it is, Morris.”

“Where’s the rest?” Rainey asked, motioning with the gun.

“Let me have the package back and I’ll show you.”

Both guns were on him. “No tricks or you’re a dead man, Velvet.”

Nick took back the package and weighed it carefully in one hand. “Burke ran in here with you right behind him and took it out of his pocket. He never reached the merry-go-round itself, and the parcel wasn’t on the floor. So he must have thrown it.”

“Thrown it?”

“Exactly. Just like this.”

Nick threw the package over their heads, straight into the open hopper that was supposed to hold the brass rings. He could see Defoe’s eyes widen above his gag. “Right in there, gentlemen, where Burke always left them. A perfect hiding place, and it only took a second.”

Rainey tightened his grip on the gun. “Get it, Sam.”

The rat-faced man climbed up and looked into the hopper. “There are two packages in here, Morris.”

Rainey’s granite face relaxed into a smile. “So you were on the level after all, Velvet.” Then, “All right, Sam, bring down both.”

Nick allowed his eyelids to droop slightly as he waited. They opened Burke’s package first, and a glitter of diamonds danced across the floor. “Jeeze!” Sam exclaimed.

“Open the other one,” Rainey said, still holding the gun on Nick. “Well be rich after tonight!”

The rat-faced man opened the package, greedily tearing at the paper. Then his eyes widened in terror and he screamed. “Morris! Scorpions!”

A half dozen of the creatures, some almost five inches long, came tumbling out of their tight confinement. Rainey took one look at their menacing, whiplike tails and started firing at the floor.

Nick leaped at the rat-faced Sam, knocking him aside, and wrenched at the lever that started the merry-go-round. Before Rainey could bring his gun up, Dot and her father were being whirled to the other side.

Grabbing hold of a brass pole, Nick hung onto the revolving carousel. His foot caught Rainey in the stomach and the man crumpled to the floor, landing on top of a running scorpion. Sam, back on his feet, was having no part of it. He dropped his gun and ran for the door. The battle of the carousel was over as quickly as it had started.

“How can we ever thank you?” Dot Defoe asked, rubbing her wrists where the ropes had chafed them.

“Just call the police for Rainey,” Nick said. “I imagine he’s still got Burke’s body in his car.”

Dan Defoe stepped gingerly down from the carousel platform. “What about these damned scorpions?”

“They’re whip scorpions, not real scorpions at all, and they’re quite harmless unless you get a heart attack just looking at them. You can round them up by hand. Any you miss will just die of the cold. They’re warm-weather creatures, but quite effective at times.”

“You’re going now?” Dot asked.

“As soon as I gather up a few diamonds from the floor.”

Peter Fowles was waiting for him in town. The police investigation would probably put an end to his diamond smuggling activities, but at least Nick felt he should deliver this last shipment to the man. Perhaps he’d take a little commission for himself. There was a fine blue-white stone that would look perfect in a ring for Gloria.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1971 by Davis Publications, Inc.

Stories in this volume copyrighted © 1965, 1966, 1967, 1968, 1969, 1970 by Edward D. Hoch

Cover design by Jason Gabbert

978-1-4804-5679-2

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