THE FIRST PIRATE WORE a dirty eyepatch over his left eye socket and a tattered headrag. With a wicked knife gripped in his jagged, stained teeth, he came clumping across the floor of the chill, stone-walled room in pursuit of the pale blonde young woman in the frilly eighteenth-century frock.
She stumbled, crying out, and fell to the gray stones.
Two more pirates dashed into the room, each waving a cutlass. One of them had a thick, tangled red beard.
The girl screamed as the eyepatched buccaneer touched the tip of his knife to her throat.
The plump woman standing next to Jake on the balcony overlooking the scene remarked, “Well, I think it serves her right. She’s been flirting shamelessly with him.”
Nodding, Jake moved toward the edge of the group of seven tourists who were taking this Pirate Castle Tour with him.
“Those of you who don’t want to watch the grisly climax of this authentic holographic re-creation of life in piratical times,” announced Elisha Clover from the edge of the group, “can go down into the dungeon, using Staircase 5 on your left. The torture sequence will be re-created there in exactly seven minutes.”
Clover was a small man of forty, his hair a pale shade of blond. On the left lapel of his sky-blue suit was a litebadge that flashed—tropics inn tours.
While two of the tourists headed toward Staircase 5, Jake eased up close to the hotel manager. “It’s simply wonderful the way you conduct these tours yourself, Mr. Clover,” he said. “When I heard that, why, I was truly impressed and I knew I had to sign up.”
“The personal touch is what’s so darned important in this, or any business.” Clover was watching the trio of rough pirates start to tear the authentic clothes off the helpless young woman below. “There are, as you no doubt are aware, several excellent hotels up here in the Colony, yet our Tropics ... awk!”
“That’s a stungun poking in your side,” explained Jake quietly. “Just start up Staircase 3 if you will.”
“But I’m obliged to conduct these people to—”
“Folks ... Jake, his body masking the gun, turned toward the group. “A small emergency has come up, meaning that Mr. Clover and I will have to leave you for just a very few minutes,” he told them, grinning. “We’ll all meet again down in the dungeon.”
Two more prods with the gun barrel persuaded the hotel man to commence climbing.
When they were in a small, shadowy room off the stairway, Jake asked Clover, “Where have they got Dan Cardigan?”
The blond man shuffled backwards until he bumped into a carved pirate chest. “Really, sir, I’m afraid I have no idea what—”
“He’s my son.”
“You’re Jake Cardigan. Damn, I should have—”
“Where?”
“You don’t seem to understand, Cardigan.” Clover sank down and sat on the chest. “I couldn’t possibly betray the people I—”
“What happens if you do?”
“I’ll be reprimanded. Probably they’ll have me worked over, and I really can’t tolerate physical pain or—”
“How do you feel about death?”
“Eh? How’s that?”
“If you don’t tell me where my son is,” said Jake evenly, “I’ll kill you. Here and now.”
The hotel manager blinked, swallowed. “You can’t kill anyone with a stungun.”
Tucking the gun into its holster, Jake moved ahead. “With my bare hands, Clover.”
He swallowed again, glancing up at the stone ceiling. “Very well,” he said after a moment. “I’ll tell you how to get to them—your son and the girl.”
“Thanks,” said Jake.
The flower shop clerk had crinkly orangish hair, and a multitude of freckles dotted his broad flat face. His suit was of a brilliantly colored floral pattern, and the lazgun he held pointed at an important portion of Gomez had an intricately filigreed barrel. “Hoist the mitts, palsy walsy,” he suggested.
“I can understand why you might not care to be interviewed by Newz.” The detective smiled and started walking up to the plastiglass counter. “But there’s certainly no need to pull—”
“Stop right there,” ordered the clerk. “And—no kidding—get those paws in the air.”
Gomez halted near a man-size plaz statue of an angel. There were three others around the place. “Okay, we can scratch the interview,” he offered amiably. “I’ll just buy a bunch of posies and be on my—”
“Dr. Danenberg warned us about you, Gomez.”
“Warned? Nay, surely she meant to tell you that I ought to be allowed free ... Excuse me.” He paused, then sneezed violently. “Allowed free access to all the facilities hereabouts and ... excuse me.” He sneezed again.
“What the hell’s wrong with you anyhow, buddy?”
Eyes squinting, shoulders hunching, Gomez nodded at his surroundings. “Didn’t Dr. Danenberg mention that ... Oops!” He sneezed twice, swaying, tottering nearer the angel. “Mention that I’m allergic ... Oh, boy!” He sneezed three times and ended up standing just to the right of the large statue. “Allergic to flowers.”
“We don’t have any real flowers here, jerk,” the clerk informed him as he moved his gun to keep it trained on him. “Our stock is all plaz and holographic.”
Gomez pointed upward with one of his raised hands. “It’s all those ... oops!” He sneezed twice, then twice more. He put an arm around the angel’s waist to steady himself. “All those floral perfumes you’re piping in here.”
“Yeah? They are kind of sickly sweet now you mention it ... but I never saw anybody have a fit before.”
“Allergies are ... Gomez sneezed vigorously three more times. He clutched the statue with both arms.
All at once the angel was falling forward, heading right for the counter and the clerk.
“You dimwit!” The freckled man took a protective jump back out of range as the heavy statue came slamming down onto the countertop.
Gomez was in motion, too.
He ran, leaped clean over the shattering counter, and landed on the clerk before the orange-haired man could get his gun aimed again.
Gomez took hold of the man’s gun hand by the wrist and smacked it back against the wall. The freckled fingers let go of the filigreed weapon.
Two sharp jabs to the chin dropped the clerk to the flower shop floor.
Stepping over him, Gomez very carefully opened the door to the back room. He had his stungun in his hand when he crossed the threshold.
There was no one there.
The room contained several tables covered with vases holding imitation blossoms.
There was another doorway at the far side of the room. It led to a ramp that slanted down to a belowground tunnel.
Gomez started along the ramp.