The Avenger 35 - The Iron Skull (13 page)

“Fire wouldn’t destroy that metal hand of his,” said Josh.

“We did unearth his wheelchair,” said Cole. “It survived the holocaust.” He tossed Josh the spangled cloth.

Rubbing his smudged hands, the Negro said, “You know what I’m beginning to think, man?”

Cole nodded, grinning. “Yes, that Herr Skull started our recent blaze as a diversion. He probably had some other way of getting out of the place.”

“Yeah, right.”

Cole brushed at a streak of mud on his sleeve. “I think we’ve pretty much thrown a spanner in his current operation,” he said. “And we also have his laboratory and staff, what’s left of them after his rather stringent retirement policies. The Iron Skull isn’t going to give us any trouble . . . immediately.”

“But later on?”

Cole shrugged. “We shall see.”

Don Early followed the Avenger down an underground corridor. “You could have phoned me before you came into this.”

“I wanted to make sure we had something,” replied Benson.

“Well, you sure did have something,” said the young government agent. “This is the wackiest setup I’ve ever run into.”

“Yes, the Iron Skull was rather an unusual opponent.” The Avenger took Early into the main laboratory.

“You sure he’s dead and gone? I mean, he was knocked off in the fire he started?”

The Avenger’s face was expressionless. “Cole and Josh are scouring the ruins now,” he said. “To find his remains.”

“Sounds like you don’t think they’ll find any.”

“I try not to let hunches play too much of a part in my life,” answered Benson. “But right now I have a feeling I haven’t seen the last of the Iron Skull.”

Smitty walked, slowly, once around the seated MacMurdie. He cocked his head to the left and then to the right. “Huh,” he said as he made a second circle.

“Mon, what ails ye?” inquired the Scot.

“Yeah, it’s you,” the giant decided. He crossed the Justice, Inc., offices and plumped down into a chair.

“Who did ye think it was?”

“Aw, don’t get all het up, Mack,” said Smitty. “I guess I’m going to be a little suspicious for a while, you know. You didn’t see that robot walking along the street the way I did. Boy, I would have been ready to swear that was you.”

“A walking tin can,” said Mac.

“Lest we forget, Fergus,” said Cole, who was sitting sideways in a comfortable armchair. “Those maple syrup robots took you in, too,”

“Aye, ’tis true.”

“Well,” said Smitty, taking out his tiny portable radio, “after a while things’ll settle down. Then I won’t start suspecting everybody I see is a mechanical man.”

“Might be a good idea,” said Josh as he came into the office, “to keep your guard up for a time, Smit.”

“Huh?”

The black man said, “It’s pretty certain the Iron Skull Is still alive. You know, most criminals get to liking one pattern of working . . . that’s why cops can keep a file of modes of operation. A guy who likes to make robots . . . he’s going to get back to making robots sooner or later.”

“Aw, that’s a lot of bunk,” said Smitty. “In the first place, I bet he did go up in smoke in that fire at the amusement park. Those Nazi agents like to knock themselves off when the cops are closing in.
That’s
a mode of operation.”

“He definitely didn’t go up in smoke,” said Nellie, who’d come in on the heels of Josh. “Richard’s just been talking to Don Early. He had a crew of men sifting the ruins. There’s not a chance that the Iron Skull was in that building when it burned down. Furthermore, they found what looks like an entrance to an underground tunnel. A lot of junk fell into the hole, but Don figures the tunnel leads out of the place—probably out to the ocean.”

“So if Herr Skull just happened to have a little motor launch hidden thereabouts,” put in Cole, “he could have sped away into the night and none of us the wiser.”

“That’s about it,” said the little blonde.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” said Josh, “if he had three or four different ways laid out for escaping.”

“Heck,” said Smitty, “now I got to start worrying about who’s a robot and who isn’t all over again.”

“It’s going to take the Iron Skull some time,” said Nellie, “to get going again. And Don Early is going to be checking out possible sources of electronics parts. It won’t be as easy for the Skull to set up shop this next time.”

“Unless,” suggested Cole, “the lad already has another laboratory and cache of equipment somewhere else.”

“You’re always looking on the dark side,” said Smitty. He clicked on his radio to catch his favorite soap opera.

The door of the Justice, Inc., office opened once again, and Richard Henry Benson entered. Nodding at them all, he walked to his desk and seated himself. “I imagine Nellie’s told you what we learned from Don Early just now.”

“Aye, ’tis nae good news,” said Mac. “That Iron Skull laddie is no m’ favorite person.”

The Avenger said, “We’ll have to be watchful. I think the Iron Skull is by no means out of our lives.”

“My short jaunt westward,” said Cole, “comes at an opportune time, I will leave you all here fretting over gadgets and proceed to bask in the famed California sun for seven fun-filled days or thereabouts.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Josh, “you going to take a week off.”

“And it will most assuredly be a week off,” said Cole. “No crimes will distract me, no evil plots. I will concentrate entirely on getting a suntan without getting a burn.”

“Naw,” said Smitty, who was listening to their conversation and to
Mary Joyce, M.D.,
at the same time. “None of us can take a vacation. Look at what happened when I went to Frisco a few months ago. Or how about the last time you was out in Los Angeles with them movie picture buddies of yours?”

“Granted there was a little unpleasantness I had to take care of,” said Cole, “with some kind of assistance from you all.”

“Zombies,” reminded Smitty. “It was zombies, purple ones.”

“No, no,” corrected Cole. “The zombie in the film my director friend was shooting was purple. The other zombies, the real ones, were ordinary everyday flesh-colored. Let’s not exaggerate.”

“Okay, they weren’t purple, but they was zombies.”

“That they were,” said Cole. “But, Smitty, I assure you the odds are against my running into another herd of zombies. Even in Hollywood there aren’t that many zombies.”

“Okay, it won’t be zombies, it’ll be something else.”

Cole grinned. “No, my dear Smith, I assure you I am going to have a quiet, uneventful time of it.”

He was wrong there.