[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
brother later. Right now he was due in the kitchen.
Table 19 had a new guest. Vishnik sat to the right of Bert Cobber, doing a
portrait of the
finely chiselled features of Richard Knight in his mashed potatoes.
Cobber glanced over at Vishnik's plate. "Hey, Dick, look at this! It's you!"
The plate was passed around and admired by all. Knight had already noticed
Vishnik's steady regard, and while relieved that the man was
merely an artist, did not think much of having his face immortalized, in
mashed potatoes or anything else.
Vishnik smiled broadly at Knight. "You are beautiful, yes? Vishnik will paint
you."
"I am honoured," said Knight with a slight bow, "but I fear I must decline. I
am superstitious about things like that."
Edna Fuller spoke up. "Why don't you paint Mr. Kitzel here?"
The artist bristled. "He"-indicating Knight"is like Greek god; he"-pointing at
Kitzel-"is like toad with full mouth."
Mr. Kitzel looked up. "Please pass the sour cream_"
"So Vishnik will paint Greek god," decided the artist.
"No, thank you," said Richard Knight suavely.
"Well, Mr. Kitzel," said Miss Fuller, "you've certainly been all over the
hotel lately. You might say you've been just-flying around."
Knight glanced at Fuller oddly. Kitzel did not look up from his cheese
blintzes. He had decided to pretend his hearing aid was malfunctioning.
Undaunted, Miss Fuller smiled brilliantly at
93
Vishnik. "We play a little spy game here at Table 19. We're trying to decide
how a spy could break into the air base up the road and steal something -oh,
let's say a secret airplane."
Knight upset his water glass in order to draw attention from Cobber's dismay.
The pilot . was choking uncontrollably into his napkin.
Waghorn stared at Miss Fuller in amazement. The woman had come up with the
same idea he had. Was it a coincidence, or was she a spy from another
television network? After all, he had already typed the latest instalment to
his outline. Could she have gone through his garbage and read it off his
carbons? He had always thought it strange that, although his suite was in the
middle of the hall, his garbage was collected first. It all fit! She fed him
the first part of a story so he
could finish it for her. Well, that was it! She was not going to get anything
more from him!
"Why an airplane?" asked Bert Cobber in a strangled voice.
"What would you expect to find at an air base?" asked the cool voice of
Richard Knight.
"A ship?"
"But, Dick-"
"Isn't it a lovely game?" beamed Edna Fuller. "The dogs do the preliminary
work-we've already established that. And then some pilot comes in, gets into
the plane and flies off with it."
Cobber's choking worsened.
Vishnik looked from Miss Fuller to Knight. "The woman is crazy, yes?"
94
Knight shrugged expressively and Vishnik
turned back to his dinner.
Lawrence Waghorn set his jaw and stared de
fiantly at Miss Fuller.
She said, "What do you think, Mr. Kitzel?" "Delicious," he mumbled, his mouth
full.
As the guests ate their dinner, Sidney Weston crouched outside the window of
Vishnik's firstfloor suite. Using equipment he had purchased "for a song" from
Page 34
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
a mail-in offer in Clue maga. zine, he had no trouble removing the screen.
Inside, the dog trotted to the middle of the bedroom, where he eyed the boy
suspiciously.
Slowly Sidney raised the window. The dog growled.
From his pocket Sidney produced a large filet mignon on a string. He tossed
the steak in through the open window. As the dog jumped for it, Sidney pulled
sharply on the string. The dog followed. When the steak flew out through the
window, so did the dog. Sidney took off on the run for the entrance to the
staff wing, the dog following in hot pursuit of his filet mignon.
"Here you go, Z-4," said Sidney as he let himself and Vishnik's dog into his
room. "Here's your new home."
Blackie ran up to greet them. Both dogs licked Sidney's face lovingly.
95
a s »
"You! Parson!" stormed the angry artist. "Vishnik's dog is no longer with
Vishnik! Vishnik's dog is missing! Where is Vishnik's dog?"
Tom Weston, cleaning ashtrays in the lobby, felt his heart lurch. Sidney. Oh,
no!
"Oh, dear," said Parson, "another dog theft. I'll call hotel security."
"Hotel will find Vishnik's dog, yes?"
"We'll do everything we can," promised the manager. "My own dog went missing a
couple of days ago, so I know what you're going through."
"If you do not find Vishnik's dog," promised the artist, "Vishnik will take
this entire hotel apart brick by brick and throw it in the swimming pool-until
Vishnik's dog is back with Vishnik!"
Tom left the lobby hurriedly and rushed to his room in the staff wing. He
threw open the door to see Sidney sitting deep in thought between Blackie and
Vishnik's golden retriever, a hand absently patting each.
Tom's heart sank. "Z-4, I presume?"
There were two identical barks of rage as both dogs tore away from Sidney
after Tom. Once again Tom climbed the bookshelves and sat cowering, staring
down at the two canines.
"Come on down, Tom," chided Sidney. "There's nothing to be afraid of. These
two dogs are as harmless as pussycats. That's something I've figured out about
the Z series. These dogs are
okay until they're under orders. Then they're
deadly. What I- want to know is how you knew
this was Z-4."
"Who else would you kidnap?" asked Tom sar
castically. "Lassie?"
"Ah, but why not Z-1 or Z-3?"
"You talked in your sleep again," lied Tom
glibly. "Sidney, we are not keeping these dogs
another minute!"
"We have to. Come down here. I want to talk to you."
"Call off your two monsters first."
Sidney put the two dogs in the bathroom and Tom climbed down. "All right, come
clean. What's been going on?"
Sidney cleared his throat. "There's a plot under way that involves the fate of
the western world."
Tom stared at him. "So?"
"These two dogs are involved in it." There, he thought. Now that Tom could
feel he was being levelled with, perhaps he would stop being so suspicious and
leave Sidney alone to get on with his investigation.
"And?" prompted Tom. He awaited further explanation-the carbons, the listening
devices, Lawrence Waghorn, the mysterious eighty dollar purchase.
"That's it," said Sidney. "That's what's going on."
Tom just stood there, struck dumb. Sidney hadn't told him anything, and
Page 35
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
obviously he had no intention of doing so.
96
, V7 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
brother later. Right now he was due in the kitchen.
Table 19 had a new guest. Vishnik sat to the right of Bert Cobber, doing a
portrait of the
finely chiselled features of Richard Knight in his mashed potatoes.
Cobber glanced over at Vishnik's plate. "Hey, Dick, look at this! It's you!"
The plate was passed around and admired by all. Knight had already noticed
Vishnik's steady regard, and while relieved that the man was
merely an artist, did not think much of having his face immortalized, in
mashed potatoes or anything else.
Vishnik smiled broadly at Knight. "You are beautiful, yes? Vishnik will paint
you."
"I am honoured," said Knight with a slight bow, "but I fear I must decline. I
am superstitious about things like that."
Edna Fuller spoke up. "Why don't you paint Mr. Kitzel here?"
The artist bristled. "He"-indicating Knight"is like Greek god; he"-pointing at
Kitzel-"is like toad with full mouth."
Mr. Kitzel looked up. "Please pass the sour cream_"
"So Vishnik will paint Greek god," decided the artist.
"No, thank you," said Richard Knight suavely.
"Well, Mr. Kitzel," said Miss Fuller, "you've certainly been all over the
hotel lately. You might say you've been just-flying around."
Knight glanced at Fuller oddly. Kitzel did not look up from his cheese
blintzes. He had decided to pretend his hearing aid was malfunctioning.
Undaunted, Miss Fuller smiled brilliantly at
93
Vishnik. "We play a little spy game here at Table 19. We're trying to decide
how a spy could break into the air base up the road and steal something -oh,
let's say a secret airplane."
Knight upset his water glass in order to draw attention from Cobber's dismay.
The pilot . was choking uncontrollably into his napkin.
Waghorn stared at Miss Fuller in amazement. The woman had come up with the
same idea he had. Was it a coincidence, or was she a spy from another
television network? After all, he had already typed the latest instalment to
his outline. Could she have gone through his garbage and read it off his
carbons? He had always thought it strange that, although his suite was in the
middle of the hall, his garbage was collected first. It all fit! She fed him
the first part of a story so he
could finish it for her. Well, that was it! She was not going to get anything
more from him!
"Why an airplane?" asked Bert Cobber in a strangled voice.
"What would you expect to find at an air base?" asked the cool voice of
Richard Knight.
"A ship?"
"But, Dick-"
"Isn't it a lovely game?" beamed Edna Fuller. "The dogs do the preliminary
work-we've already established that. And then some pilot comes in, gets into
the plane and flies off with it."
Cobber's choking worsened.
Vishnik looked from Miss Fuller to Knight. "The woman is crazy, yes?"
94
Knight shrugged expressively and Vishnik
turned back to his dinner.
Lawrence Waghorn set his jaw and stared de
fiantly at Miss Fuller.
She said, "What do you think, Mr. Kitzel?" "Delicious," he mumbled, his mouth
full.
As the guests ate their dinner, Sidney Weston crouched outside the window of
Vishnik's firstfloor suite. Using equipment he had purchased "for a song" from
Page 34
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
a mail-in offer in Clue maga. zine, he had no trouble removing the screen.
Inside, the dog trotted to the middle of the bedroom, where he eyed the boy
suspiciously.
Slowly Sidney raised the window. The dog growled.
From his pocket Sidney produced a large filet mignon on a string. He tossed
the steak in through the open window. As the dog jumped for it, Sidney pulled
sharply on the string. The dog followed. When the steak flew out through the
window, so did the dog. Sidney took off on the run for the entrance to the
staff wing, the dog following in hot pursuit of his filet mignon.
"Here you go, Z-4," said Sidney as he let himself and Vishnik's dog into his
room. "Here's your new home."
Blackie ran up to greet them. Both dogs licked Sidney's face lovingly.
95
a s »
"You! Parson!" stormed the angry artist. "Vishnik's dog is no longer with
Vishnik! Vishnik's dog is missing! Where is Vishnik's dog?"
Tom Weston, cleaning ashtrays in the lobby, felt his heart lurch. Sidney. Oh,
no!
"Oh, dear," said Parson, "another dog theft. I'll call hotel security."
"Hotel will find Vishnik's dog, yes?"
"We'll do everything we can," promised the manager. "My own dog went missing a
couple of days ago, so I know what you're going through."
"If you do not find Vishnik's dog," promised the artist, "Vishnik will take
this entire hotel apart brick by brick and throw it in the swimming pool-until
Vishnik's dog is back with Vishnik!"
Tom left the lobby hurriedly and rushed to his room in the staff wing. He
threw open the door to see Sidney sitting deep in thought between Blackie and
Vishnik's golden retriever, a hand absently patting each.
Tom's heart sank. "Z-4, I presume?"
There were two identical barks of rage as both dogs tore away from Sidney
after Tom. Once again Tom climbed the bookshelves and sat cowering, staring
down at the two canines.
"Come on down, Tom," chided Sidney. "There's nothing to be afraid of. These
two dogs are as harmless as pussycats. That's something I've figured out about
the Z series. These dogs are
okay until they're under orders. Then they're
deadly. What I- want to know is how you knew
this was Z-4."
"Who else would you kidnap?" asked Tom sar
castically. "Lassie?"
"Ah, but why not Z-1 or Z-3?"
"You talked in your sleep again," lied Tom
glibly. "Sidney, we are not keeping these dogs
another minute!"
"We have to. Come down here. I want to talk to you."
"Call off your two monsters first."
Sidney put the two dogs in the bathroom and Tom climbed down. "All right, come
clean. What's been going on?"
Sidney cleared his throat. "There's a plot under way that involves the fate of
the western world."
Tom stared at him. "So?"
"These two dogs are involved in it." There, he thought. Now that Tom could
feel he was being levelled with, perhaps he would stop being so suspicious and
leave Sidney alone to get on with his investigation.
"And?" prompted Tom. He awaited further explanation-the carbons, the listening
devices, Lawrence Waghorn, the mysterious eighty dollar purchase.
"That's it," said Sidney. "That's what's going on."
Tom just stood there, struck dumb. Sidney hadn't told him anything, and
Page 35
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
obviously he had no intention of doing so.
96
, V7 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]