She shook her head quickly. "Not as large as you'd think, Mr. Clevenger. One of the men, the younger one, had a girlfriend in Brandon who hid them out while they were figuring how to get through the police net. She looked over the trailers in camp and picked ours because it was the only one without a man around. A woman and a young girl alone would be easier to handle, they thought."
I moved my shoulders. "You make it sound real plausible, ma'am. When are these two miscreants supposed to have descended on you?"
She disregarded my cynicism. "They slipped in quite suddenly right after dark, and took me by surprise," she said. "As a matter of fact, when they knocked on the door, I thought it was you or one of those other two government men who've been following me. The next thing I knew, the younger one had a knife in my side." She indicated the place by rubbing it with her elbow. "He was rather rough. I'm not a heroine and.., and of course, I had Penny to think of. That was only a few minutes before your visit last night. You can understand why I didn't invite you inside!"
I studied her thoughtfully. "And they spent the night with you? Did they give you a bad time? Or the kid?"
Genevieve laughed shortly. "Not the way you probably mean, Mr. Clevenger. Oh, it wasn't fun, but the younger one had already seen his girl, remember, and the older one was just interested in a whiskey bottle I had in the cupboard. That's what he'd been missing behind bars."
"Describe them."
"Don't tell me you're beginning to believe me!" Her voice was sharp. "The younger one is about twenty, tall, slim, and goodlooking, if you like punks. I believe that's the term. You know what I mean. I'm sure that in civilian life he had a ducktail haircut, or the Canadian equivalent. He had a big hunting knife his girl had found for him…"
"How big?"
"Oh, about six inches in the blade. He kept brandishing it like Cyrano de Bergerac. He told us proudly that he was a real bad boy with a knife, that's how he'd come to be in prison, for killing a man. The older convict was fifty-five or sixty, a mean little dried up weasel of a man with a terrible thirst. I don't know what crime he'd committed, but I'm sure he's capable of anything that doesn't require courage. He wanted to get another bottle somewhere this morning, but the boy said he'd cut his throat if he tried. They almost had a fight over it. The older one grabbed my big kitchen knife, but it was just a bluff, and he backed down whining. He's still got the knife, though. It's a nasty weapon, Mr. Clevenger, at least ten inches long. I keep it very sharp."
"Two knives," I said. "That's all? No guns?"
"You do believe me now?"
I moved my shoulders. "The question concerned firearms, Mrs. Drilling."
"No firearms. I know because they looked all over the trailer, hoping to find a rifle or pistol." She laughed wryly. "Everybody searches my trailer, from the government on down."
"And they've got your daughter," I said. I looked at a pair of cased spectacles lying on the formica counter, and slid them,out of the case, and looked through them, absently. The frames were much too small for me, and the prescription, as far as I could judge, checked with what I'd been told of the kid's eyesight: she was pretty myopic. Presumably she'd inherited it from her scientific papa, since mama seemed to get along quite well without glasses.
I thought of a small nearsighted girl with braces on her teeth, out in the woods with two criminals, at least one a murderer. I reminded myself that I wasn't here to look after children. On the other hand, my cover story did require me to show a certain concern for Penny's welfare, and it might be a way of improving my relations with the woman facing me.
I said, stalling, "Can she see without these? They're pretty strong."
"It's an old prescription. She has her glasses. She just brought those along for a spare."
"Why did you bring her along, Mrs. Drilling? Why didn't you leave her home where she'd be safe?"
Genevieve's gray-green eyes narrowed. "Safe? Alone in a big house with a father who'd rather watch his tame light rays or whatever they are? I didn't know I was going to run into a prison break, Mr. Clevenger."
I said, "Still, a woman leaving her husband for another man doesn't usually take her offspring with her."
"Oh, you know about Hans." She shrugged. "Doesn't she? Have you made a study of women and the way they leave their husbands? 1 simply told Hans he'd have to take both of us or neither."
"I don't suppose it's any use asking where you're planning to meet this Hans character."
She said, "No, and why would you care? You're just a private detective hired to take an interest in Penny's welfare. What do you care about Hans, or the scientific formulas I'm supposed to have stolen or any of that? I'm afraid your badge is showing, and it isn't a private badge. Well, you never were very convincing as a detective, and right now I don't care what you are. Just… just help me get Penny back safely, please."
I looked at her grimly. Maybe the question about Hans had been a mistake, but at least I had her asking a favor and saying please.
I said, "You're a stubborn lady, Mrs. Drilling. You're bound to tie me to a government job. Well, let's not waste time on that now. What instructions are these hypothetical convicts supposed to have given you?"
She snapped, "They're not hypothetical, damn you! Do you want me to show you where his knife drew blood?" I didn't say anything, and she went on in a different tone: "I'm supposed to meet them up a road just ahead. The younger one was riding in front with me, lying on the floor. I helped him slip into the cab just before daylight. After we got on the highway, he had me describe the landmarks we passed. He seemed to know there might be a roadblock around the curve back there. He made me pull out, and he got his friend out of the trailer, and Penny. He said for me to go through the police alone, if they were there, and then take the first dirt road to the right and drive to a lake about two miles back from the highway and wait. They'd join me there. If I wasn't there when they arrived, or if I warned the police…" She stopped.
I said, "I know. They'd kill Penny. Presumably with flourishes. Well, suppose we find this dirt road. You lead, I'll follow in the Volksie. Stop when you're out of sight of the highway."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll tell you when we have this safari off the highway," I said. "Right now let's get out of sight before one of those policemen sees us and gets curious."
She regarded me for a moment, frowning. I suppose she was wondering just how big a mistake she was making in trusting me. Then she turned and climbed down into the daylight and walked forward to the truck without looking back, leaving me to close the trailer door.
XI
I CUT A nice, straight little Christmas tree with my camp hatchet. While Genevieve watched, I trimmed off most of the branches, and chopped off the upper part of the trunk that was less than an inch in diameter, as well as the lower part that was greater than an inch and a half. This gave me a tough, serviceable club or nightstick somewhat shorter than three feet and rather sticky with pitch.
I looked regretfully at the hatchet as I slipped the leather sheath back on it and put it away in the car. I've done some tomahawk-type practice in my time, but a man with a couple of pounds of steel tossed into his head or chest is apt to die, and we'd given the Canadian authorities two bodies to worry about already, so I thought it would be well to keep the mayhem to a minimum.
Genevieve was regarding me dubiously. "Haven't you got a gun?" she asked. "I thought all detectives were simply weighted down with firearms till they could barely walk. And all secret agents, too. Whichever you are."
I had no intention of revealing the extent of my armaments unnecessarily. She might decide to use the knowledge against me later.