“Not exactly.”
“Don’t try to withdraw from reality. Face up to it. That’s the only sensible way.”
“But it didn’t sound like metal on metal,” Blossom insisted. “It sounded more like brooms being knocked together.”
Max faced back to her. “Let me ask you this: did Fred carry a broom with him?”
“No!”
“Hmmmm… that throws new light on the situation.” He headed toward the rear of the apartment. “You stay here, I’ll check it out.”
“Max…”
He halted. “Yes…?”
“If you were right the first time… don’t tell me.”
Max nodded, then continued. He entered the kitchen, and stopped and listened. He heard a rattling sound.
“Like brooms being knocked together,” he mused. “Let’s see now, where would I find a broom? Stove? No. Refrigerator? No. Broom closet? No. Pantry? No. Broom closet? Well, it’s worth a try.”
He went to the broom closet and opened it. There were two brooms, and, huddled between them, Boris.
“Boris! What are you doing in there?”
“I lost my tour again,” Boris said sadly.
“Poor guy. But if you’d asked me, I could have told you. A broom closet is the easiest place in the world to get separated from a tour. Come on out. Maybe we can help you.”
Boris crawled out. Max led the way back to the living room.
“Guess who I found in the broom closet?” Max said to Blossom.
She began to weep hysterically. “Oh, Fred, Fred, my poor Fred!”
“No, no-Boris,” Max said.
“I understand,” she wept. “You promised you wouldn’t tell me. I appreciate it. But I just can’t help crying-my poor Fred!”
“Listen,” Max said disgustedly, “will you cut that out! Look-here’s Boris. He was in the broom closet. Separated from his tour!”
“You don’t have to pretend any longer,” Blossom sobbed. “I understand. Poor Fred!”
“Rorff!”
Blossom looked at Fang, surprised. “Really,” she said. “I thought he was just trying to save me some grief.”
“All right,” Max said, “now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the case at hand. Boris,” he said, “how did you get here in the first place?”
“Well,” Boris said, “I was on the tour, as I explained. We had come from Chinatown, and the guide was showing us the empty apartments of New York. I lingered, and apparently the tour went on. Well, I found myself alone here in this apartment. I was beside myself, of course.”
“Of course,” Max nodded. “It gives me the chills just to hear about it.”
“Then suddenly,” Boris said, “I heard a rattling sound.”
“Like… uh… brooms being knocked together?”
“No… more like metal on metal,” Boris replied.
“Oh-oh!”
“My poor Fred!” Blossom moaned.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions again,” Max said. “It could have been anything-someone hiding in the pantry, for instance. Go on, Boris.”
“So I hid in the broom closet,” Boris said.
“Natural enough reaction-for a yokel from Zinzinotti,” Max said. “Do you have any idea where the rattling sound was coming from?”
Boris pointed to the door of the closet that was just inside the entrance.
“I think I better check that out,” Max said. To Blossom he said, “Maybe you better not look.”
Blossom turned away, whimpering.
Max went to the closet door and whipped it open. Huddled inside was Noel!
“Do you by any chance have a computer in there with you?” Max said.
“Non!”
Max turned back to Blossom. “It’s okay to look,” he said. “No one here but that gorgeous brunette from Paree, Illinois.” To Noel, he said, “I believe you owe us an explanation, young lady.”
“Isn’t it obvious what happened?” Noel said, stepping out.
“Well, I get the gist of it,” Max said. “But there are a few details I’d like to have filled in,” He looked at her, narrow-eyed. “For one thing-where’s Fred?”
“Ah… Fred.. she smiled. “Zat eez zee quay-see-own-where eez Fred?”
“None of that!” Max snapped. “Answer the question-where is Fred?”
“This Fred? He is the tall, shiny gentleman with the merry-go-round eyes?”
“That’s the fellow.”
“Well… zees eez zee story,” Noel said. “I am sitting in the Idyll Hour Cafe, minding my own business, and enjoying an ode titled ‘Like a spread without a breadin’-”
“I believe that’s ‘Like a bread without a spreadin,’ ” Max said.
“Oui. I am listening to this ode, when suddenly there is a riot. I am afeared! Innocent child alone in this forest of violence! Then, just as suddenly, this tall, shiny gentleman places his back against my pistol and says, ‘May I escort you to the exit, little innocent child alone in the forest of violence?’ What can I do? I say ‘oui’ ”
“You were in a tight spot,” Max admitted.
“Suddenly,” Noel went on, “we are outside. This tall, shiny gentleman is racing for a taxi cab-weeth my pistol steel in heez back!”
“The cad!” Max snarled.
“That doesn’t sound like Fred,” Blossom said defensively. “He was always a perfect gentleman with me.”
Noel looked her up and down. “Perhaps he has taste,” she said.
Blossom pulled back a small fist. “I’ll slug her!”
“Take it easy, girls!” Max said. “What’re you trying to make this, a forest of violence? Miss,” he said to Noel, “get on with the story.”
“Well, to make a long tale short-”
“Rorff!”
“I’m sure nothing personal was intended, Fang,” Max said.
“To make a long story short,” Noel went on, “I suddenly find myself here in this apartment-alone with this tall, shiny gentleman with the merry-go-round eyes! But, still, I do not suspect anything. Then! Without warning! This gentleman suddenly removes his back from my pistol!”
“Typical of the type!” Max nodded.
“Well… what could I do? I called for a wrench and pair of pliers.”
“Quick thinking. And the only thing you could do under the circumstances.”
“It was cruel,” Noel said. “But history will absolve me.”
“Undoubtedly,” Max agreed. “Now then, I have a rather personal question-if you don’t mind.”
“Nothing could faze me now-not after that!” Noel said.
“The question is-and excuse me if it sounds familiar-where is Fred?”
“Eet eez a long story,” Noel said. “But, in a nutshell, the minute the wrench and plier arrived, this gentleman suggested to me that we step out into the corridor and talk it over. What could I do? He was, after all, irresistible-those merry-go-round eyes! ‘Oui,’ I said. He opens the door and says, ‘Ladies first.’ I step through the doorway, and treachery! I am een zee hall closet!”
Max glanced at the closet door. “Locks from the outside, eh?”
“Oui!”
Max turned to the others. “It’s my guess-this is only circumstantial, of course, but based on long experience-it’s my guess that Fred has skipped.”
“Good for Fred!” Blossom said.
“And lousy for us,” Max said. “This puts us right back where we started from.”
“I’m glad!” Blossom said. “I hope he gets away! I hope he finds a place where he can be free, free, free! Where he can live his life as he wants to!”
Max looked at Boris. Boris looked at Noel. Noel looked at Max.
Boris spoke to Blossom. “Where eez this place?” he said.
“Well…”
“If you know something the rest of us don’t know, tell us,” Max said.
“Well… he could go live on a deserted island.”
“They’re all winter resorts these days,” Max said.
“He could hide in a cave.”
“The guerrillas have taken over all the caves,” Noel said.
“Maybe he could just live in a hole in the ground!” Blossom shrilled.
“All the holes have missiles in them,” Boris said.
“Well, that seems to have taken care of that,” Max said. “Now, back to the task. Where is Fred?”
Boris backed toward the door. “I think I will join my tour,” he said.