A few minutes later they reached the cab company’s main garage. The superintendent there confirmed that the license number belonged to one of the company’s cabs.
“And where would we find the driver?” Max asked.
The superintendent pulled at his chin. “Ya want me to pinpoint it?”
“As closely as you can.”
“Well, the best I could say is, he’s somewheres between the Hudson River and the East River, and between the Battery and Yonkers.”
“In other words, somewhere on Manhattan Island.”
“Yeah. Unless, of course, he got a fare for, say, Queens or Brooklyn or Staten Island or maybe over in Jersey. If you’re gonna pin me down, I’ll say definitely he’s probably somewheres east of the Rocky Mountains.”
“That may make it a little difficult,” Max said tautly. “Let me ask you this: Will he be reporting in soon?”
“Oh, yeah, he calls in.”
“Then perhaps the dispatcher has heard from him?”
“Yeah, you can talk to him.”
They went to the dispatcher’s office.
“Yeah, I talked to him just a couple seconds ago,” he said.
“Could you tell me exactly where he was at the last report?” Max said.
“Sure. He was standin’ right where you’re standin’ now.”
Max turned to Blossom. “We’re narrowing it down,” he said. Then, to the dispatcher, he said, “Would you have any idea where he is at this exact moment?”
“Try the lunch counter down the block,” the dispatcher said. “His name is Harry.”
They found Harry where the dispatcher suggested that he might be. He was a large, smiling man. “Whatcha want?” he said.
“Harry,” Max said, “I want you to think about this and answer it carefully. The fate of the entire civilized world may depend on your reply.”
“Yeah, ya know, the same thing happened to me last week,” Harry said. “I was cruisin’ Park Avenue, see, and this guy hails me. He’s got this overnight bag. And when he gets in, I hear this overnight bag goin’ tick-tick-tick. Well, to me, it sounds like-”
“Harry,” Max broke in, “time is of the essence.”
“Same with this guy last week,” Harry said. “He’s in a big hurry. Like if he don’t get where he’s goin’ somethin’ horrible’s gonna happen. So I said to him, I said, ‘Look,’ I said-”
“Harry, excuse me, but a computer’s life is at stake. Now, earlier today, in the Village, you picked up a gorgeous brunette and a metallic-looking fellow whose eyes revolved and-”
“Ya know, funny you should mention that. About, say, two weeks ago, I’m cruisin’ along Fifth Avenue, and I get hailed by this gorgeous brunette. I say to myself, ‘Now there’s a dame that looks familiar.’ So she gets in the cab, and I start thinkin’. Who’s she? From somewhere, I know her. But who’s she? I start goin’ over names in my mind. Elizabeth Taylor, I think. No. Sophia-”
“Harry,” Max interrupted, “it’s a fascinating story, but unless we find this gorgeous brunette and her captive very soon, it may be too late to save the Western World from complete domination by the Bad Guys. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, would you?”
“Well, live and let live,” Harry replied. “The trouble is, today, who’s the Bad Guys? I remember about twenty years ago, the guys that was the Bad Guys then is the Good Guys today. And the guys that was the Good Guys then is the Bad Guys today. So, the way I look at it, you got to take the long view. How do I know that the Bad Guys today ain’t gonna be the Good Guys tomorrow? And, ya know, I intend to be in business for a while. How do I know that the Bad Guys of today, when they’re the Good Guys of tomorrow, how do I know but what maybe they’ll want to hail a cab? So I don’t take no sides. Business as Usual, that’s my motto.”
“All right, forget about that,” Max said. “Let’s get back to that gorgeous brunette. The guy that was with her, this Fred-”
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t finish my story, did I? So, anyway, I said to myself, ‘Sophia Loren? No. Jean Harlow-’ ”
“Harlow was a blond.”
“How did I know, maybe she dyed her hair. Maybe she’s wearin’ a wig. Right? Anyway, it wasn’t none of them. You know who it was?”
“Who?”
“Agnes Cornfelder.”
Max nodded dimly. “Agnes Cornfelder.”
“Yeah. She lived down the block from me when I was a kid. Well, was I surprised! ‘Listen, Agnes,’ I says, ‘I remember you. How come when you was a kid you was a red-head and skinny and had buck teeth? How come now you’re such a gorgeous brunette?’ Ya know what she says? She says her name ain’t Agnes, and if she’d’ve ever knew me when she was a kid she’d’ve shot herself. That’s what ya get for tryin’ to be complimentary to a person. Ya know?”
“It don’t… it doesn’t pay,” Max said. “Now, getting back to the problem. Earlier today, you picked up a gorgeous brunette and a robot. What I want to know is-”
“A robot?”
“A computer, actually, but built in the form of a robot.”
“You’d think I’d remember a thing like that,” Harry said. “I don’t remember no robot.”
“Revolving eyes. Lever at his side.”
“Oh. Was that guy a robot? How about that! Boy, the mistakes in recognition a guy can make. I been tellin’ the guys I had Rock Hudson in the cab with me today. How about that!”
“Where?” Max said. “Where did you take them?”
“East Side. Posh apartment house. You want the number?”
“I want the number,” Max said.
Harry gave him the number, then added, “But if you’re one of them autogram hunters, you’re wastin’ your time. I just found out that guy ain’t Rock Hudson. Some kook tells me he’s some kind of a robot made up like Rock Hudson.”
“I’ll check it out,” Max said briskly, backing away.
The four blocks to the East Side address was only an hour drive through crosstown traffic. Reaching there, Max, Blossom and Fang jumped out of the car and approached the doorman at the entrance to the building.
“If it weren’t for the uniform, I’d say that guy looks familiar,” Max said.
“He certainly is nice-looking,” Blossom said. “I wonder if he’s married.”
“I’m still married,” the doorman said, having overheard the conversation.
Max and Blossom stared at him.
“94!” Max said finally.
“Right,” 94 replied. “This is the assignment I was in a hurry to get to.”
Max asked 94 if he had seen Noel and Fred enter the building.
“Yes-not long ago,” 94 replied. “They went to apartment four-oh-one. I know because, not long after they had gone up, the girl called down on the phone and asked to have a wrench and a pair of pliers sent up!”
“Fred! Poor Fred!” Blossom cried.
“I think this calls for haste,” Max said. “Come on!”
Hurrying after Max, Blossom called back to 94. “My regards to your three wives-and let me know if it doesn’t work out!”
Max and Blossom boarded the elevator, then, moments later, got out at the fourth floor. They raced down the corridor to four-oh-one. Without halting, Max threw himself against the door. It splintered, and fell in, and Max went tumbling after.
Blossom regarded him as he lay face down inside the apartment. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“This is how it’s done,” Max said, getting up. “Rule number seventeen.”
They looked around. The apartment was of a fairly good size, but completely vacant.
“A front, obviously,” Max said. “I wouldn’t be surprised at anything we might find here.”
“I’d be surprised if we found Fred,” Blossom said. “This place is completely deserted.”
“To the untutored eye, yes,” Max said. “But to a crack investigator this place fairly reeks of occupancy.”
“Oh? Like how?”
Max sniffed. “Get that? The scent of Mulligan stew! There’s something cooking!” He spoke to Fang. “After it, boy!”
Fang went galloping out the door and down the corridor.
“Coward!” Max yelled after him.
“No… look, he’s stopping at that door,” Blossom said.
Max followed after Fang. As he reached him, the door of the apartment that he had stopped in front of opened. A middle-aged woman put her head out.
“No dogs allowed,” she said.
“No dogs aloud? He hasn’t said a thing.”
“Well, he looked like he was going to bark.”
“Rorff!”
“He said he had no intention of barking,” Max told the woman. “And, speaking of barking, do you happen to be cooking a Mulligan stew?”
“The saints presarve us, yes!” the woman answered.
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d put a lid on it,” Max said. “The scent is pervading the apartment down the hall and interfering with an official investigation, the result of which the fate of the Free World hangs in the balance on-or something.”
The woman slammed the door in his face.
“The world is full of them, boy,” Max said to Fang. “Full of them!”
Max and Fang returned to the apartment.
“I heard something,” Blossom said excitedly. “While you were gone. It came from the kitchen!”
“Well, one thing, it wasn’t Mulligan stew,” Max said. “What did it sound like?”
“A kind of rattling.”
Max turned away, lowering his eyes. “A… kind… of… rattling…”
“What do you think it could be?” Blossom said fearfully.
“I want you to brace yourself, Blossom. Think of it this way: Life is fleeting, Life is short; the important think is to be a good sport!”
“You mean-”
“After all, you and Fred had a good time together-while it lasted. And… you can always build yourself another robot.”
“You mean-”
“And next time you may get a little closer to creating a look-alike Rock Hudson. Practice makes perfect, they say.”
“You mean-”
“I’m just putting two and two together, that’s all. The girl called down for a wrench and a pair of pliers. And you… you heard a rattling sound. Sort of metal on metal, was it?”
“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.
“A-ha!” Max said. “That’s it! It’s my guess that Fred took Boris’s place on that sight-seeing tour!”
“But someone would notice him,” Blossom said.
“Hardly. There would still be the same number of people on the tour. If there were, say, twelve before, and Boris dropped out, and then Fred joined in, there would still be twelve. That’s the beauty of it-he could pass himself off as Boris!”
“I seenk you are right!” Boris said. “It is the only answer!”
“Let’s hit the trail!” Max said.
Boris opened the door. “Ladies, secret agents and dogs first!” he said.
Max, Blossom, Noel and Fang hurried through the doorway.
Boris closed the door behind them.