"Run home now," said Antony. The kid took off through the trees. We started around to the western side of the wall, taking pains to walk as quietly as possible. As we crept along, Antony replaced the clip in the Mauser.
If the wall Jimmie had taken us to was about fifty yards in length, the western wall was a good seventy-five. Keeping tight against it, we followed it to where it turned another corner. The trees thinned out a little there, and we could see that halfway down the next wall of the huge rectangle there was a dirt road that led into the place.
"I'll sneak down there and take a look through the entrance," I whispered.
"I'm right behind you," said Antony.
"No, you're too big. I'll make less noise. Give me the gun; you can keep your two bucks." I took off my hat and handed it to the big man, who crouched down to wait.
I slid along the wall like a shadow, gun pointing up and ready as I'd seen Antony carry it. When I got close to the entrance where the road passed in, I saw a tall iron gate. I got down on my hands and knees and crept along only a few inches at a time, stopping to listen every now and then. Reaching the gate, I took a deep breath and stuck my head out to peer around the corner and through the bars.
The road that led into the place went straight up to a tall, old house with a wraparound porch and two gables. There was a black car, a Ford, parked at the end of the dirt drive about ten yards from the house. Sitting on the porch in a rocking chair was a man in a black suit and hat, cradling a machine gun. Another fellow, in a similar dark getup, sat on the steps. The yard around the house, with the exception of the front, which was a leaf-covered, flat expanse, was thick with trees. I was about to pull my head in and inch back to Antony, when I heard something just inside the wall.
Another man in a black suit, carrying a Tommy gun, passed inches away from me inside the gate. I was so low, he didn't notice, but had he turned, he'd have easily seen me. I waited for him to pass the gate and continue on behind the other side of the wall before making my move. With the same stealth I used to get there, I retreated. A few minutes later, I was crouching next to Antony at the corner.
"This has got to be it," I said. "I saw three of those guys in the black suits."
Antony nodded.
"Who are those guys anyway?" I asked.
"If I didn't know better I'd say they were gangsters, but I never knew any gangsters who all wore the same outfits. The black suits are like uniforms almost. Private security maybe, paid for by Agarias's wealthy friends. Who knows, maybe government issue."
As I was describing the house to him, we heard the sound of a car motor starting up. We moved around the corner, behind the wall. The gate opened a minute later, and the black Ford sped out down the dirt road, dust flying up behind it.
We made our way quickly back through the woods and to the Cord sitting parked on Clayton. I wanted to find the entrance to the dirt road leading to the compound. Leaving Jimmie's neighborhood, we drove south and then took the first road to the right. Before long, we spotted the path through the trees. Antony marked it on the map.
"I'm not sure what this is going to do for us, but at least we probably know where Schell is," I said.
"Start thinking, Boss," said Antony as he turned the car around and headed back toward our house.
Along the way, we passed through some small town; it very well could have been Fort Solanga, I don't know. There were a few shops and about a hundred yards of sidewalk along either side of the main street. Parked in front of the general store was the black, Model A Ford I'd seen leave through the gates of the compound.
As we cruised by, two of Agarias's men in those distinctive dark suits came out of the store, carrying brown paper bags. The second Antony saw them, he hit the gas, and we were gone before they could look up.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Were they getting lunch maybe?"
"They gotta eat," I said. "I doubt Agarias is cooking for them."
"You've got a smile on your face," he said to me.
Only when he said it did I realize it myself. I nodded. "I've got it," I said. "When we get back to the house, call Sal. Tell him they need to come tonight."
"Okay," he said.
"Tell him we need guns, and if he can, to scare me up a stick of dynamite."
THE FEROCITY OF MY PIGEONS
I sent Antony south to pick up Isabel and Morgan. There was no way, once Sal and the others showed up, that we could all fit in the cottage in Babylon, and I needed everyone assembled to go over my plan. It was a chance I'd have to take. I hoped Agarias would be too confident and think he had us stymied to the point where he didn't have to bother tailing us. Otherwise, once everyone was gathered at Schell's, if he sent a raiding party with Merlin and the goons, we'd be finished. Before the big man left, I'd told him to keep Morgan down in the backseat.
"Tell her to wear a long dress and a sweater with long sleeves. Have her put her hair up and wrap a kerchief around it. Dark glasses if you can find some."
I sat and waited for Sal to show up with the reinforcements from the city. In that time, I tried to polish my strategy, tie up the loose ends. There was a good chance someone was going to die when the exchange eventually went down, and that made me queasy. It would be machine guns versus the likes of myself and Hal Izzle. The deck was most assuredly stacked against us.
Morgan, Isabel, and Antony arrived only minutes before the two cars carrying Sal's recruits. Marge the Ton Templeton was the first to push back the rug and enter. Following her, and giving her a shove in the rear end to squeeze her through the opening, was Hal. Then came Captain Pierce, dressed in his parade uniform, carrying his case of throwing knives and sporting a cane. Sal was the last of the first group, wearing his cape and top hat, holding a wand in his left hand and a stick of dynamite in his right.
A few seconds passed and the next carload filed in-Miss Belinda, toting a huge crate of pigeons, Peewee Dunnit, carrying another crate of pigeons, and bringing up the rear, scuttling along on his knuckles, Jack Bunting, the spider boy. Peewee informed Antony and me that Vonda had to work and couldn't make it. "Shit, somebody's gotta work," said Sal as he passed by.
I caught Antony in the hallway, coming out of Schell's room with four bottles of champagne.
"Do you think that's a good idea?" I asked.
"Are you kidding? It's a great idea. We got to keep the morale of our forces up."
"I don't want them to get too drunk," I said.
"No," he whispered. "You want them to get drunk, so when we get to the part about the machine guns, they won't have second thoughts."
I acquiesced with a sinking feeling. For the next hour, everyone milled around and drank and talked and smoked cigarettes. I introduced Isabel and Morgan to each of the volunteers.
Miss Belinda told me she needed to find someplace to let the pigeons out, so I showed her to the Bugatorium. She nodded and called down the hall for Peewee and Antony to bring the crates. I closed the door behind me, and Miss Belinda said, "Okay, let 'em loose."
Antony and Peewee lifted the sliding planks at the ends of the wooden cages, and the birds rushed forth in a torrent of flapping wings and falling feathers. Once they settled down and found perches, a pandemonium of cooing filled the air and set the room to vibrating.
Miss Belinda took a small satchel from within the folds of her gown. Dipping into it, her hand came forth filled with golden meal, and she began spreading it on the floor like a farmer sowing seeds. The pigeons fluttered down to feed, strutting and bobbing their heads. As we left the Bugatorium, careful as to where we stepped, Antony muttered, "And I used to worry about butterfly shit."
The four bottles of champagne didn't last long, and once they were done and some of the guests were inquiring if there was more, I called for all to gather in the living room. Isabel and Hal brought chairs in from the kitchen so that everyone could have a seat. Marge took up half the couch but at least held Jack Bunting on her lap. When everyone was settled in, I took up a position near the front window, facing them. Antony stood just to the left of me, hands behind his back in his chauffeur attitude of attention.