"There must be a light somewhere," he said absently.
He found one and turned it on. Weak yellow light washed the garage interior. It came from a dangling bare bulb.
"That helps," Remo said sourly. "Now we can see the limo that isn't here better."
"Did you notice the floor pattern?" Smith asked severely.
"How could I?" Remo snapped back. "The convertible took up most of the interior."
"Look."
Remo looked. The floor was broken into rectangular sections. But certain crisscross lines were deeper than the others. They formed a long rectangle slightly larger than an automobile.
"Why didn't I figure this out before?" Remo said acidly. "It just slid through the cracks like an unemployed cockroach."
Smith looked at those grooves. "If what you claim is true," he told Remo, "and not hallucination-"
"It is. True, that is."
"Then there is a logical explanation for this," Smith added grimly. "And I intend to find it."
Smith began to move around the garage, looking at the walls and feeling under the workbench.
"What're you looking for?" Remo asked.
"A secret catch or button or some similar device," Smith said absently.
"You're joking. Didn't that stuff go out with dime novels?"
Smith said nothing. He found nothing, either.
"Maybe it's behind the tool rack," Remo said, pointing to a perforated pegboard on which tools were hung.
Smith joined Remo at the panel. They tried to lift it free of the wall but it wouldn't budge.
Smith began removing the tools and placing them on the floor. One refused to budge. A torque wrench.
"Here, let me help," Remo said, reaching for the torque wrench. It wouldn't budge for him either.
"How the hell is it attached?" Remo wondered, twisting at the ratchet. It made a clicking sound, but refused to lift free.
Then, from far below there, a great motor started to whine.
"Now what?" Remo blurted, stepping away from the open floor.
For the rectangular outline in concrete started to tilt upward. The far side dipped into the ground. The near lip lifted free. It was a section of the floor and it was revolving.
As they watched, the reverse side of the concrete slab presented itself like a shark rolling to the surface.
It brought with it the white convertible.
The hidden servomotor ceased its deep-throated whir. The convertible sat there mutely.
Steel claws extending from floor slots released its bumpers, front and rear, and retracted into the recesses below. Camouflaged panels snapped flush with the floor.
When the last clicking died, there were no seams showing, except the deeper outline of the slab itself.
"Incredible," Smith said huskily.
"I've seen something like this before," Remo muttered.
Smith turned doubtfully. "You have?"
"Yeah. But I just can't place it."
Smith looked at Remo with concern.
"The answer is obvious," he said. "The black limousine entered the garage and then the device was activated. The cars merely switched places, possibly with the passengers still inside."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple," Smith returned. "Once you apply logical thinking to the matter."
"Yeah. Well, come on."
"Where are we going now?" Smith demanded.
"I have these really fascinating footprints to show you."
Smith followed Remo out of the mysterious garage, which was mysterious no longer.
Chapter 9
Dr. Harold W. Smith could not explain the footprints in the snow of Remo Williams' front walk.
"Well, come on, Smith," Remo taunted. "You can do it. Just apply a little logic."
Smith absently wiped his glasses with a handkerchief. He lifted them to the pale winter sky and winced. The right lens was smeared with engine oil. He found a clean spot on the handkerchief and scoured it again.
Remo had led Smith into the house upon their arrival, taking care to approach by the lawn, not the walkway. The house was empty. There was no sign of Chiun or the Chinese defector. And with the exception of a single empty steamer trunk, all of the Master of Sinanju's belongings were gone. There was no note.
"Start from the beginning," Smith said thoughtfully.
"It's just like it was at the safe house, only here there are two sets of their tracks, both coming and going."
"Yes," Smith said slowly, drawing out the word.