The Golden Circle (19 page)

Colma pushed his tongue into his cheek, watching the big man. "Yeah, there are a few questions which have been running through my mind."

"Perhaps I can answer them here," said the Phantom. "A few of them anyway."

Taking a few steps toward the chair Fox had vacated, the police lieutenant said, "It would be better if you came back to Manhattan and we talked at Centre Street."

"That won't be possible."

Colma's stubby hands slapped the side of his wrinkled pants. "Why are you in this thing? You're not a private dick or an insurance cop. I checked all that out."

"The women on the train," said the Phantom, "brought me into this."

"You mean you wanted to clear your name, because I suspected you'd knocked off Pieters and swiped his gems?"

The Phantom laughed. "No, I wasn't worried about my reputation, lieutenant," he said. The look of amusement left his face as he added, "I felt the murder shouldn't go unpunished. Since I knew who'd actually done the killing, I made up my mind to track them down."

"That was your reason? You didn't, maybe, also want to try a little hijacking operation?"

"Do you really believe that's what I had in mind?"

The policeman's hand slapped his sides again. "No, I guess I don't. I guess when you come down to it, I can't figure you at all, Walker. I don't understand your motive."

"I've told you."

"A desire to see justice done? Huh," said Colma. "I haven't run into that for a long time." He rested a hand on the back of the chair. "Still, I would appreciate it if you'd come along and make a statement. I can guarantee. . . ." Colma shoved the chair straight at the Phantom. At the same time, he made a diving grab for the Phantom's gun. "I'm going to take you in."

The Phantom, dodging the chair, sidestepped out of the way of the charging Lt. Colma.

Colma slammed into an animal cage, causing a poodle to start yelping. One foot shuffling to the left, he swung on the Phantom.

Once again, his opponent wasn't there.

I'm sorry we can't continue our talk," said the Phantom. He gave the lieutenant two sharp blows to the side of the neck with the side of his hand.

Groaning, Colma took three wobbling steps. One knee went slamming into the floor, then the other. Then, he fell over onto his side, unconscious.

The Phantom tore a sheet of paper from a memo pad on a nearby desk. He pressed his skull ring on it, leaving a skull image printed on the page. Dropping this on the fallen policeman's chest, he turned his attention to Devil.

"Time to go, Devil," the Phantom said to the gray wolf. With a twist of his powerful wrist, he forced the locked cage door open.

Devil growled a friendly growl of appreciation at being free and with his master once more.

"It's the
Deep Woods
for us," the Phantom told the animal. With Devil at his heels, he went out through the front office and away.

When VerPoorten returned to the room, he found the lieutenant slumped in the wooden chair, looking very pale. "What's wrong, lieutenant?"

"Just had a talk with Walker."

"Where is he? I thought you wanted to persuade him to come back to New York City with us."

"He wasn't in the mood for that." Colma rubbed at his neck, then held out the slip of paper.

"Hey, that looks like a face of some kind." The big detective leaned closer. "No, you know what that mark looks like? It looks like a skull."

Tracing his fingertips over the sign of the skull, Colma said, "Yeah, it does."

"Is that what you would call a trademark of this Walker guy?"

Colma didn't immediately speak. "Let's go home," he said after a while.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Some days later, and many thousands of miles distant from New York, the jungle drums beat out a message. "The Phantom is back!" they said. "The Ghost Who Walks has returned!"

The message went speeding across Bangalla, from the fringes of the capital city of Mawitaan, where the Bangalla Airways jet had set the Phantom down, deep into the most remote stretches of dense jungle.

Soon the word had penetrated to that part of the jungle where modern civilization has been unable, or perhaps unwilling to reach. To the untamed and mysterious area known as the
Deep Woods.
It was here, at the very heart of this strange and secret area, that the Phantom's Skull Cave lay.

The Bandar, the pygmy tribe who were the only people who dared to dwell in the
Deep Woods,
heard the message, the drums brought.

And so when the Phantom, dressed again in his tight-fitting costume and mask, set foot once more on the jungle paths of the
Deep Woods,
with Devil padding beside him, he was greeted by Guran, his longtime friend.

The little gray-brown man raised a hand in greeting, as did the dozen of his tribe who had accompanied him on this trek to meet the returning masked man.

"Welcome to your home again, Ghost Who Walks," said Guran.

"Hello, old friend," replied the Phantom.

Devil barked a greeting.

As they began the journey to the Skull Cave, Guran said, "You have been gone longer than I anticipated, Phantom. I feel it was because you have had even more adventures than you expected."

"That is so, Guran," the masked man said. "Tonight, round the fire,I'll tell you about them."

The procession continued on its way. When the hot jungle sun was at its highest, they reached the Phantom's cave home. The cave goes deep into the side of a high gray cliff. The jagged mouth of the cave resembles nothing so much as an enormous grinning skull.

The rest of the Bandar people remained outside, while Guran followed his friend inside.

For a moment or two, the Phantom paced the familiar cavern which held his skull throne. Then, nodding to himself, he announced to Guran, "I'm going to visit the treasure rooms for a few minutes, old friend."

Deep within the Skull Cave were the treasure rooms, a minor one and a major one. These rooms held precious stones, gold plates, silver trinkets, ropes of pearls and countless other treasures which had been gathered by the many generations of Phantoms.

'I will wait here, Phantom," said the little gray- brown man, squatting on the stone floor. "Have you brought back a great new treasure from far-off America?"

Reaching into his belt, the Phantom held out the golden arrow pin he had first found on the train. "Only this," he answered.

Guran narrowed his eyes to examine the pin. "Surely that cannot be worth much, Phantom."

The Phantom's gloved hand closed over the pin. "Several people's lives," he said, "were lost because of this."

"Is that why you wish to preserve it?"

"No, I'm keeping it as a memento, Guran. To remind me of some people."

"The ones who died?"

"No, two of the ones who lived." The Phantom turned and walked away.

THE END