Biff wasn’t fooled. He knew that Specks was being left behind to keep him from escaping. From the wily smile on Dietz’s face, Biff knew that whatever the plan was, Dietz thought it was moving ahead smoothly. Biff smothered a crazy desire to laugh. Dietz’s plan would be working out successfully if the real Derek were here.
One thing was very clear to Biff as Specks locked the door behind Dietz. These men did not know where Derek’s father was. They were stalling. The whole elaborate story Dietz had woven showed that. His plan must have been to get Uncle Charlie to lead him to Derek’s father. Dietz had figured he could do this if he could get to Derek first. When Charles Keene failed to meet Derek, he would have to go to Zook and explain. Dietz probably had planted a man at the airport to spot and follow Keene.
“And this all started,” Biff said to himself, stretching out in a comfortable chair, “when I wanted to play a practical joke on my uncle by having him think Derek was I.”
Then it dawned on Biff. He couldn’t have played it the way Uncle Charlie had wanted any better if Uncle Charlie himself had planned the switch in identities. It looked to Biff now as if Uncle Charlie didn’t know where Derek’s father was, either.
Parts of the whole puzzling experience had fallen into place. But there were more pieces still to be fitted together.
Uncle Charlie would know the answers. But where was he? Nearly half an hour had passed since Dietz had left the room. Specks, sprawled in a chair, still watched Biff closely.
Idly, Biff rose and strolled across the room and sauntered out on the balcony. He could feel Specks’ eyes following him, but the man made no move.
On the balcony, Biff understood Specks’ inactivity. There was little chance of getting out of the room this way. The drop to the water below was at least seventy-five feet—straight down.
“Thinking of taking a swim?” Specks called out. “Some dive you’d have to make first, eh?”
Biff turned around. He could see the fat, satisfied grin on Specks’ face. Biff recrossed the room and stood over the comfortably sprawling Specks. He wasn’t too big a man. “Bet I could take him,” Biff thought.
Biff’s determined expression seemed to alarm Specks. He sat upright in his chair, but at the same time cringed against the back of it. Some of Specks’ boldness had left the room with boss Dietz.
Only one thing held Biff back and kept him from mixing with Specks. What would he accomplish by overpowering his guard? Where would he go? He had to wait until Uncle Charlie appeared. And supposing he was successful in taking Specks? Dietz might come back before Uncle Charlie showed up.
As these thoughts raced through Biff’s mind, a knock came on the door. It was barely audible. Biff looked at Specks and started for the door. Specks leaped out of his chair and jumped for Biff. He tried to push Biff aside, and they tangled.
“Think you can handle him?” a voice behind them said
“Think you can handle him?” a voice behind them said
Their struggle was brief, halted by a voice from behind them.
“Think you can handle him?”
Biff and Specks swung around. On the balcony, a nonchalant smile on his handsome face, stood Uncle Charlie.
Specks, his head pivoting from Biff to Charlie, a frightened look in his eyes, reached for the doorknob. He wanted out, and fast.
“Grab him!” Uncle Charlie ordered and came charging across the room.
Not once so far had Uncle Charlie called Biff by name. Biff took his lead from this. Uncle Charlie still didn’t want Specks to know that Biff wasn’t Derek.
Biff wrapped his arms around Specks, restraining him. Uncle Charlie, at their side, grabbed Specks by the shoulders and wrenched him away from Biff’s grasp.
“Now, how do you want to play this?” Charles Keene asked. His voice was firm, grim, even though his eyes held a sparkle of amusement.
Specks didn’t reply. He tried to pull away from Uncle Charlie’s grasp. He didn’t have a chance.
“There are several ways of handling you,” Biff’s uncle went on. “You see this?” He removed one hand and doubled it into a ham-sized fist. “It’s pretty large for a sleeping tablet. But well placed, like right here”—he flicked Specks’ jaw with the fist—“and I’m sure you will take a long, long nap.”
Specks cowered.
“Or, we could tie you up. But if you’ll be a good little Specks, and not try anything, we’ll leave you alone. Now get over to that chair and sit down.” Charlie’s voice was angry now, and he shoved Specks violently toward the chair.
Specks toppled over the chair’s arm, shrank back in it, and tried to make himself even smaller than he was.
Biff and his uncle moved over to a corner of the room most distant from Specks and talked to one another in low tones.
“Good to see you, Biff. Sorry I had to welcome you this way. But things are beginning to move. I didn’t expect to plunge you into this up to your neck so fast, but I think things are working out better than I had hoped.”
In a low voice, Biff replied, “Uncle Charlie, just before you came in from the balcony, there was a knock on the door. There was another man here, too, not so long ago. A man named Dietz. That knock could have been him.”
“I don’t think so, Biff. I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“Then who could it have been?” Biff asked.
“Why don’t you go to the room next door and find out,” Uncle Charlie suggested, grinning broadly. “Go ahead. Specks won’t give me any trouble.”
Biff shrugged his shoulders, opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway. He shook his head. That was Uncle Charlie for you. Daring, reckless, always making a mysterious game out of any situation. Keeping up the suspense as long as possible.
Although he didn’t always approve of his uncle’s methods, Biff had to admit that with Uncle Charlie, there was never a dull moment.
Moments later, Biff returned.
“Well?” The big grin was still on Uncle Charlie’s face. It disappeared instantly on Biff’s report.
“There is no one in the room next door,” Biff said in a quiet, steady voice.
“Stay here!” Charles Keene leaped for the door. Biff, standing in the doorway, saw him dash into the adjoining room. He was back out in a flash. No longer did he wear a grin. His expression was as serious as Biff had ever seen it.
Charles Keene walked back to Biff, his brows knitted in worry and anger.
“I guess I outsmarted myself,” he said.
“Who was I supposed to find in the next room?” Biff whispered. “Derek?”
“Yes. It was he who knocked just before I came in. It was this way. We couldn’t be sure how many people might have been in this room. We knew you were. We followed you to the hotel—”
“But how did you know what room I’d be in?”
“Oh, that was easy. I’m well known here at the Del Mar. The clerk told me Dietz’s room number. I took the room next to it.”
“You know Dietz, then?” Biff cut in, glancing sidewise to make sure Specks could not overhear them.
“Do I? He’s a bad one. Getting more and more desperate, too. There’s a pot of gold that he’s afraid we’re going to get to first.”
“Pot of gold?”
“Well, not literally; not actually gold. But it’s worth many pots of gold—big ones.”
“Go on, Uncle Charlie,” Biff whispered. “How did you get over to this balcony?”
“There’s a ledge, not a very wide one, that joins the balconies....”
Biff remembered the ledge now. It wasn’t more than ten inches wide. His uncle had taken a dangerous chance in crossing on that narrow ledge from his room to this one.
“The boy, by knocking on the door, was to cause enough distraction to give me time to cross the ledge to this room. I was counting on the element of surprise if I found you being held by more than two men. Remember, surprise can add the strength of another man to any attack.”
“I sure will remember.”
“Well, when I got to your balcony and saw just you and Specks, I knew things were going to be easy.”
“But it didn’t work out quite that way,” Biff said.
“No. I never thought Derek would be in danger.”
“And now he’s disappeared.”
Uncle Charlie nodded his head. He strode back into the room and stood, hands on hips, glowering down at the cowering Specks.
“Where is he?” Charlie demanded. “Where’s Dietz?”
Specks didn’t answer.
“Speak up, or I’ll make you talk.”
“I don’t know,” Specks replied. His high voice cracked as he answered. There was no doubt but that Specks was almost numb with fear.
Charles Keene reached down and grabbed the man by the shoulder. He shook him like an angry lion shaking its kill.
“Please, Mr. Keene,” Specks begged. “I don’t know. That’s the truth.”
Biff tugged at Uncle Charlie’s arm, and he released his hold on the man.
“What is it?” Charlie asked, looking into Biff’s face. Biff indicated with a nod of his head for his uncle to follow him. He then went to the doorway and stood in the hallway. His uncle came along.
“Uncle Charlie, that man’s too frightened of you to talk, even if he does know where Dietz has gone.”
Charles Keene nodded his head. “Guess you’re right, Biff. Got any ideas?”
“Yes. And I’ve got some questions, too.”
“Fire away.”
“What doyouthink has happened to Derek?”
Uncle Charlie puzzled this question a few moments before replying.
“Two things could have happened. Dietz could have returned just as Derek knocked on the door, or when he was returning to our room.”
“You mean he forced Derek to go with him?”
“Yes. That could have happened.”
“But wouldn’t Derek have called out? Yelled for help?” Biff protested.
“Not necessarily. You see, Biff, Derek doesn’t know me any better than he knows Dietz. You two switching identities at the airport was a good joke. But then the joke turned into a serious matter.”
“Right!”
“I didn’t have enough time to fill Derek in on what was actually going on,” Uncle Charlie continued. “He can’t really be sure whether I’m working for him or against him. The same thing holds for Dietz. Dietz is a fast and smooth talker.”
“I learned that, myself,” Biff said.
“And Derek may have thought that you, by suggesting the switch in identities, might have been in on a plot for me to get my hands on him.”
“I see. It could look that way. Look, Uncle Charlie, if you would tell me what this whole thing is all about, I might be more help.”
Uncle Charlie apparently didn’t hear Biff’s last remark. He was deep in his own thinking.
“Or, this could have happened,” he continued. From his tone of voice, Biff could tell that his uncle was more voicing his thoughts than speaking directly to him.
“Derek might have felt that I was holding him. And after knocking on this door, he could well have gone right on down to the lobby intending to leave the hotel. Dietz might have seen him there.”
“And told him you were a crook and that he would take Derek to his father.”
Uncle Charlie nodded his head in agreement.
“Look, Uncle Charlie, just where is Derek’s father?”
“Brom Zook? I don’t know, Biff.”
“Dietz doesn’t know either, does he?”
“I’m not sure.”
It was just as Biff had reasoned. Neither his uncle nor Dietz knew where Derek’s father, Brom Zook, was, and each thought the other might know.
“You were both hoping that the other would lead you to Brom Zook?”
“That’s about how it shapes up, Biff.”
“How long has Derek’s father been missing?”
“I haven’t seen him for over three months. The only communication I’ve had from him was a letter and a package. They came two weeks after I last saw him.”
There were still many questions Biff wanted to ask his uncle. But right now, Biff figured they could wait. The important thing was to find Derek—and Derek’s father.
“Uncle Charlie, if you think Dietz knows where Brom Zook is, then Specks would know, too, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, I should think so.”
“Then wouldn’t it be best to release Specks? Tell him he’s free? Then we can follow Specks. If Dietz has talked Derek into going with him, or forced him to do so, then Specks will lead us to Dietz, Derek, and maybe even to his father.”
Charles Keene thought about this for a moment.
“You’ve got something there, Biff. You’re using your head better than I am. We’ll do it. You go on down to the lobby. Find a spot where you can’t be seen by anyone leaving the elevator. I’ll turn Specks loose and come down the stairs the moment he gets in the elevator. All right?”
Biff nodded his head.
“Good luck, Biff,” his uncle called out as Biff headed for the elevator.
Uncle Charlie had been right about Derek. The Dutch boy had followed Keene’s instructions to the letter—up to a certain point.
Derek had watched Charles Keene climb over the balcony railing and onto the ledge leading to the next room. He had held his breath as he watched the older man press close to the building wall and inch his way along the narrow ledge toward the next balcony.
“Are you all right?” Derek had called softly.
Charles Keene, perspiration breaking out on his face, nodded his head in reply.
Derek had gone back into the room. Moments passed. Then he had slipped quietly out into the hallway and moved to the next door. Then he had knocked. He had waited a few minutes, trying to understand the muffled words coming from the other side of the door.
According to the plan, he was supposed to return to his room and wait for Biff.
“Should I?” Derek asked himself. He was even more confused than Biff had been by the strange turn of events. Charles Keene had seemed a pleasant enough chap. But in the ride from the airport to the hotel, he had been vague in some of the answers he had given. It was hard to distrust Keene, but his explanations had been so sketchy that Derek’s suspicions had been aroused.
He had even wondered about the switch he had agreed to make with Biff. Why had Biff suggested the switch? Was it only a practical joke, or was there some deeper reason for Biff’s suggestion?
What had really started Derek’s doubts had taken place at the airport. When Biff and the two men had passed in the airport, Charles Keene had restrained Derek from calling out to Biff.
Derek made up his mind. He would not return to the room Keene had taken him to. If Keene wasn’t to be trusted, then Derek knew he would have a much greater chance of getting away from him in the hotel lobby than in a small room. Derek went to the elevator. Biff had missed him by only minutes when he went to find him.
In the lobby of the Del Mar, Derek took a seat with a clear view of the elevator bank and the door to the street. His eyes swung from one to the other. Derek was alert, waiting for any development.
Once he dug his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. Alarm spread over his face when the object he was feeling for wasn’t there. He almost panicked. Momentary relief came to him when he remembered that he was still wearing Biff’s sports jacket. This relief was short-lived.
The package he had reached for was of vital importance to Derek. But Biff had swapped coats with him. Biff now had the package containing the small object of such value.
Had that been the real reason Biff had wanted to switch identifications? So that Biff could get possession of the package? It was hard for Derek to accept this theory. He had developed an instant liking for Biff. He felt that Biff had felt the same way about him. And how could Biff have known that he, Derek, was going to be in the airport in Miami? Could Biff possibly have known and arranged to be on the same plane?
It was too much of a puzzle for the Dutch boy.
Derek watched the floor indicator dial over one elevator move, showing an elevator descending. Would this be Biff? Or Charles Keene? The door slid open. An elderly couple emerged.
He turned his glance toward the street door. A man entered alone. He looked somewhat familiar to Derek. Where had he seen him?
The man glanced swiftly about the lobby. His eyes rested for a fraction of a second on Derek, then turned away. The man started for the elevator. Almost there, he stopped abruptly and swung around to look closely at Derek. Disbelief showed in his eyes.
Derek recognized the man now. He had been one of the two who had walked out of the airport terminal building with Biff.
The man crossed quickly to the chair where Derek was sitting.
“Derek! You—you escaped! I mean—tell me, what happened?”
The man seemed confused. He was obviously unable to believe what he saw.
Dietz was confused. More so even than he displayed to Derek. How had Derek managed to get away from Specks? What had happened in the short space of time he had been away? He would have to play this very cagey now. Earlier, when he had been in the same room with this boy he could tell that the youth had grown suspicious of him.
Dietz took a stab in the dark.
“Did Keene come?” he asked. “And you got away?”
That was true enough. Derek had gotten away from Keene. But how did this man know that he had been with Keene? He couldn’t know—not yet—that it had actually been Biff Brewster, not Derek Zook, who had left the airport with him. Derek’s mind spun dizzily for a moment. “Catch hold of yourself,” he said sternly to his whirling brain.
Derek began thinking. Both he and Dietz held their silence for a few moments, stalling for time, each trying to think how to learn what the other actually knew.
“Yes, I left Mr. Keene,” Derek finally replied.
“Was there trouble? Specks—did Keene attack him? Was that when you made your escape?”
The picture was becoming clearer. The “Specks” Dietz referred to must have been the other man who had been with Biff and this man at the airport.
Derek had a pretty good idea now of what Dietz must be figuring had happened. Believing Specks was guarding the real Derek, Dietz must think that Keene had broken in on them and overpowered Specks, and that during the melee, he, Derek, had fled. It would be wise, Derek thought, to find out as much as he could.
This man must be the one Keene had referred to as Dietz. Derek decided to find this out.
“Yes, Mr. Dietz. That’s what happened.”
“Thank goodness you made your escape,” Dietz replied. “Keene is a dangerous man. Dangerous to you and your father.”
This was just about the same thing Keene had said to Derek about Dietz, Derek remembered. “Caution,” his brain flashed. “Which of them is lying?”
“My father?” he said aloud. “It is safe for you to take me to him now?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, we must leave at once. Before Keene comes down here.”
Dietz’s answer was quick. A bit too quick, Derek thought. But just what or whom was he to believe?
“We can go to him now. At once.”
“Where is he?” Derek asked this question in Dutch. This was to be the big test as to whether he would trust this man. Derek had asked one question of Keene in Dutch. Keene hadn’t replied. At the time, Derek had thought that perhaps Keene hadn’t been listening to him, he had been so busy telling Derek why he had permitted Biff to leave the airport with the two men.
“Your father is in a small hacienda to the north of Willemstad. A half hour’s drive.”
Dietz had replied in Dutch. Derek decided to take a chance.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Derek didn’t see the look of satisfaction and relief that flashed over Dietz’s dark features. He got up and followed Dietz out of the hotel. Moments later, Biff stepped out of the elevator. He just missed seeing Dietz and Derek leave the hotel.
Derek got into the same sleek, black limousine that had brought Biff to the hotel only an hour before. Dietz got behind the wheel. He wove through the crowded streets of Willemstad. The town and its houses and buildings looked very much like a small waterfront town back in Holland. The houses were the same type. Willemstad, Derek recalled, had been named for a small village back in Holland.
Leaving Willemstad behind them, Dietz sped along a narrow, winding road that climbed the foothills toward the highest point in Curaçao. Suddenly he swerved off the paved road onto an unimproved, heavily rutted dirt road. Ten minutes more and Dietz nosed the car through an arched opening in a pink stone wall. Ahead, Derek could see one large, rambling house, again stone, but painted a bright yellow, and several smaller stone buildings.
Dietz stopped in front of the entrance. Immediately there came out the largest man Derek had ever seen. His complexion was a light coffee-brown. He wore knee-length breeches. His legs and feet were bare. His heavy muscles bulged beneath a thin white shirt, its ends tied around his waist.
Without another glance at Derek, Dietz spoke to the giant.
“Take over, Crunch.”
Crunch was well named. Derek learned this when the man clamped a hand on his arm, grinning down at him evilly.
Derek knew now that he had placed his trust in the wrong man. But it was too late. He was powerless to resist. Crunch had the strength to match his giant size.
Biff scanned the lobby of the hotel carefully as he emerged from the elevator. No sign of Derek, no sign of Dietz. They had left only minutes before Biff reached the lobby.
The stairway Uncle Charlie would be coming down, Biff noticed, led into the lobby just to the right, and slightly behind the elevator bank. Biff decided that behind the stairway would be the best place for him to watch for Specks. There was a large potted plant at the foot of the stairway. Biff got behind it. From here, he couldn’t be seen, yet he had a good view of the elevators and the stairs. Specks in his frightened haste might take the stairway. He might not want to wait for an elevator, scared as he must be after Uncle Charlie had given him a verbal working-over.
The elevator must have been waiting on the fourth floor, for Specks came out of it into the lobby just after Biff had taken up his position. He saw the little man glance nervously around the lobby. Probably, Biff guessed, he was looking for boss Dietz. He needed his support, needed it badly.
Specks then headed for the exit. He moved at a pace so rapid that he bumped into several people who were entering.
“Where’s Uncle Charlie?” Biff asked himself. “If he doesn’t get here right now, we’ll lose Specks.” Biff stepped out from behind the huge plant and glanced up the curving stairs. No Uncle Charlie. Biff did think that he heard someone coming down, coming fast, taking two or more steps at a time. “That must be he,” Biff thought. He decided to go after Specks, hoping his uncle would be right behind.
In the curved driveway outside the hotel, Biff looked right and left. Specks must have pulled out of there at a rapid clip. He wasn’t in sight. Uncle Charlie came out of the hotel, taking the three steps at a leap.
“Where is he? Which way did he go?”
“I don’t know,” Biff replied. “He was gone by the time I got out here.”
“Come on, then.” Uncle Charlie, on the run, headed for the street. Biff was at his heels.
On the sidewalk, they tried to spot Specks.
It seemed to Biff he had never seen so many people crowding the streets, all of them in a gay, holiday mood.
“It’s no use, Biff,” Charles Keene said. “We’d never catch Specks in this crowd, even if we knew which way he went.”
“Guess you’re right,” Biff replied. “But I hate to give up. I want to find Derek. Don’t like the idea of his thinking you and I are against him.”
“I know how you feel, Biff. Tell you what. Let’s just wander around, circulate among the crowds. Who knows, we might bump into him. If we don’t, locating him is going to take time and organization.”
Biff felt there would be little chance of that happening. He knew that his uncle was just trying to cheer him up. So, thought Biff, why not? See some of the town at the same time.
“Okay, Uncle Charlie, lead on.”
The man and boy joined in the thronging crowd of tourists, sight-seers, and bargain hunters.
“Four big cruise ships in, Biff,” Uncle Charlie said. “That’s why Curaçao is really hopping today.”
They stopped at several shops. Both kept an eye out for Derek, and Biff’s uncle made several inquiries of shopkeepers. No luck. “Let’s acquaint you with this fabulous city first, Biff,” he said. “Then back to the hotel for a powwow on our next move.”
Biff looked over some German cameras in El Globo on Heerenstraat. He was delighted with the store run by Juluis Penha on Breedestraat. This store sold dolls from all over. He bought a Dutch doll for Monica. It was dressed in traditional Dutch clothes—wooden shoes, a gaily colored frock, and a stiff winged hat. He found a Swiss watch at Spritzer and Fuhrmann, and was surprised at how inexpensive it was. He bought it for his brother Ted and smiled as he thought of Ted’s face when he saw it.
As they walked along, Uncle Charlie kept up a running fire of conversation, giving Biff a good picture of life in Curaçao.
“All the houses are different colors, Uncle Charlie. Why is that?” Biff asked.
Each house was distinct from the other, even if its color varied by only a shade. Some were light pink, others darker pink. There were bright green-painted houses, and light green ones. Others were different shades of blue and yellow.
Uncle Charlie chuckled before replying.
“Don’t know how true this story is, Biff, but here’s the natives’ explanation of why the houses here are so gaily colored. Many years ago, all the houses here were whitewashed. It seems the unrelieved glare of all the white houses hurt the governor’s eyes. So, being a powerful man who knew what he wanted, he ordered the houses to be painted the colors of their owners’ choices. Simple as that.”
“If you’re a governor,” Biff replied, laughing.
“And you see that large building over there?” Uncle Charlie pointed to a magnificent structure standing on top of a hill.
“Big enough to be a palace,” Biff commented.
“It’s Franklin D. Roosevelt House, the United States consulate. The Dutch built it up there on Ararat Hill to express their thanks for our protection of these Dutch islands during World War II.”
“That was really nice of them.”
“Good neighbors, the Dutch.”
Biff stopped in front of a store displaying beautiful English china and Swedish crystal. He pretended to be inspecting these beautiful wares. Actually he was listening intently to a rapid-fire conversation between two native clerks.
“I don’t get it,” Biff said, shaking his head.
“What don’t you get?”
“The language they’re speaking. I thought at first it was Spanish. I know I caught some Spanish words. And some English words. And I could pick out some Portuguese, too. But it’s all so mixed up.”
Uncle Charlie laughed. “No wonder you’re puzzled. They’re speaking a language made up of more different languages than any other in the world. It’s called Papiamento. The jargon is a combination of Dutch, English, Spanish, Portuguese, African, and Indian words. Carib Indians. A few French words thrown in, too.”
“Just like Curaçao itself.”
“That’s right, Biff. This island is filled with many races although the Dutch are predominant.”
Uncle Charlie looked at his watch, then glanced up at the sun. “Aren’t you getting hungry? It’s after noon,” he said.
“Now that you remind me,” Biff replied with a grin, “I’m starving.”
“Like to go back to the hotel, or how about some real Dutch-Javanese food? Dutch cooking is good. Heavy, though.”
“Lead me to it.”
Uncle Charlie took his nephew to Koreman’s Old Dutch Tavern on Columbusstraat. They started out with a delicious Dutch pea soup, for which the restaurant is famous, and followed it with a Javanese dish of pork and vegetables with a thick curry sauce.
“Like it, Biff?”
“Delicious. But, as you said—heavy. I’m so full now, I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat again.”
“This stuff really sticks to your ribs. But if I know you, you’ll be starving again in a few hours. Come on, we’ll go back to the hotel. You must have some questions buzzing in your brain.”
“Make yourself comfortable, Biff,” Uncle Charlie invited, when they were back in his room at the Del Mar. “You must be tired. Night flight, exciting morning. Get much sleep on the plane?”
“Few hours. I think that food made me sleepier than anything, though. Boy, am I glad to get this coat off! Too tight for my taste.”
Biff took off Derek’s coat, which he had been wearing, and tossed it toward a chair. As the coat landed, a small white box fell out of the pocket. Uncle Charlie pounced on it like a hungry cat on a mouse.
“What is it, Uncle Charlie?” Biff asked.
Charlie had taken the lid off the box and was inspecting the object in it with a triumphant smile on his face.
“What luck! I think this will clinch our case against Dietz and Company. And at the same time, I can see now why Derek might be very suspicious of both of us.”
Uncle Charlie put the lid back on the box and replaced it in Derek’s coat.
“You still haven’t told me what it is,” Biff said.
“Give me time. And when I do, a lot of things will become clear.”
“So, Uncle Charlie is going to be mysterious again,” Biff said to himself. Biff sprawled out on the bed and waited for Uncle Charlie to start talking.
“It all goes back to our days in Burma and China, Biff. You know Explorations Unlimited still has its headquarters in Burma. Sumatra’s not too far from Burma. Lots of Dutch people in Sumatra. It was once a Dutch colony. And Explorations had done quite a bit of work for some of the Dutch businessmen there.
“Just after we had to get out of Burma—you remember, of course—Explorations received an inquiry as to whether its operations extended to the Netherlands Antilles. Jack Hudson—you recall him, don’t you, Biff?—cabled me.”
Biff nodded his head. Jack Hudson also worked for Explorations Unlimited. It had been Jack who had flown into China and rescued Biff and his uncle when Biff had taken part in theMystery of the Chinese Ring.
“So Jack cabled me,” Uncle Charlie went on. “An inquiry had come from a friend of Derek’s father, Brom Zook. Brom wanted someone to work for and with him. I got the job. I’d picked up a seaplane with my earnings in China and had been kicking around the Caribbean, charter flights and so on.”
“What did he want you to do?” Biff asked.
“Pilot him back and forth from here to Martinique. Run a speedboat he has in Martinique.”
“I know from what Dietz told me that Derek’s father is looking for something on the bottom of the ocean? What is it? Sunken treasure?” Biff asked.
“In a way, yes. And he’s found it, too. It’s a pearl fishery—”
“Pearl fishery!” Biff’s voice showed his excitement.
“Yes. A fabulous one. If the samples Brom has found so far are an indication, there are millions of dollars of pearls waiting to be taken, from a spot of ocean floor just off the coast of Martinique.”
Biff was sitting up now, leaning forward. This was fascinating to him. Pearls, taken from the bottom of the ocean!
“It was the very end of November, I guess, when I last saw Brom,” Charles Keene said. “I’d taken some new skin-diving equipment over to him. He indicated to me then that he thought he was nearing his goal. He said I’d hear from him within a week. I was to come back to Curaçao and await word.”
“Why Curaçao, Uncle Charlie, when he was working in a French possession?”
“Because he’s a Dutch citizen. Everything he does over there has to clear through the Dutch authorities and the French consulate here.”
“I see,” Biff nodded his head.
“Well, nearly two weeks went by. I was worried. I flew back to Martinique. I couldn’t locate Brom. He had gone to sea in his speedboat, loaded with supplies. I hung around La Trinité—that’s the town we headquartered in—for a couple of days, then came back here. Nothing else for me to do.”
Uncle Charlie got out of his chair and walked over to the balcony.
“Then I got a letter and a package from Brom,” Uncle Charlie continued. “And that’s the last I’ve heard from him. Oh, I’ve been back to Martinique several times, but he’s vanished.”
“Do you think Dietz had anything to do with it?”
“I’m sure of it, Biff. He either kidnapped Brom Zook, and Brom got away, or he drove Brom into hiding. It’s just got to be one or the other.”
“Dietz knew about this pearl fishery, too?” Biff wanted to know.
“Lots of people know about it, Biff. Stories of a fabulous pearl fishery have been circulating in these parts for years and years. The stories come from the Carib Indians. And every once in a while, a Carib comes to the market with a priceless pearl.”
“But no one has ever located the fishery, is that it?”
“That’s right, Biff. Many have tried, Dietz among them.”
“Where does Derek fit into the picture?” Biff asked.
“I’m coming to that. Derek is motherless. He has spent most of his life divided between living here in Curaçao with his father and living with his grandparents in Holland. When Brom Zook started on his hunt for the pearl fishery, he sent Derek to The Netherlands for his schooling. He knew that he wouldn’t be in Curaçao much of the time, and he didn’t like to leave Derek alone.”
“Why did Derek come back? Particularly since his father is missing?” The picture was still somewhat cloudy to Biff.
“I sent for him,” Uncle Charlie said.
“And you sent for me, too. Why both of us?”
“Because you look so much alike. You could easily pass for twins.”
“I know,” Biff said. “In Miami and on the plane, we were taken for twins.”
“I needed you here in the event Derek didn’t show up in time.”
“In time for what, Uncle Charlie?”
“To establish his right to the pearl fishery his father has found.”
Biff frowned. “I’m afraid I still don’t get it.”
“It’s like this, Biff. The letter I received from Brom Zook, over two weeks after I last saw him, contained a claim to a certain water area, to be filed with the French consulate here in Willemstad, establishing Brom Zook as the discoverer of the fishery. I was to file it for him. Along with the letter and the claim, I received a small package. In it was one of the most perfect black pearls I have ever seen.”
Biff’s eyes turned in the direction of Derek’s coat. He was beginning to get an idea of what Uncle Charlie had found in the box that had tumbled from the jacket.
“This pearl was to be given the French consul along with the claim. In the event Brom Zook didn’t appear within the time limit, the person appearing for him could establish his right by presenting a black pearl that was the perfect match for the one I left with the consulate.”
“And that person would be Derek?” Biff asked.
“Right you are, Biff.”
“How did Derek get hold of the pearl?”
“Apparently Brom Zook knew he was in danger, from Dietz, I’m sure. Dietz would try to stop him from appearing to establish his claim—the same way claim jumpers used to operate in the early mining days of the old West in the United States,” Uncle Charlie explained.
“So he sent Derek the other pearl?”
“That’s right. He told me he had done so in his letter. His instructions were that if he didn’t get in touch with me in plenty of time before the ninety-day time limit was to expire, then I was to cable Derek to come at once to Curaçao.”
“Ninety-day time limit? I don’t understand,” Biff said, his voice showing he was still puzzled.
“When a claim is filed, such as the one I filed for Brom Zook, there’s a waiting period of ninety days before the claim is granted. The law was designed to prevent claim jumping. In those ninety days, if anyone else can dispute the claim, then a hearing is held to decide who discovered the find first.”
“So that if Brom Zook had jumped someone else’s claim, the real discoverer could protest and prove he made the discovery first,” Biff said.
“You’re right, Biff. But in this case, Brom made the discovery. Dietz knows it. Dietz knows that he wouldn’t stand a chance of claiming to have made the discovery first.”
“Why not?”
“Because he doesn’t know exactly where it is.”
“Do you, Uncle Charlie?”
“I have a pretty good idea, because I know more precisely where Brom Zook was working than Dietz does. You see, Biff, a claim to a water area covers alotof ocean. It isn’t like a land claim for mining. A mining claim covers a specific spot. A water claim can cover an area of hundreds of acres. I know the island group that Brom was searching in, but only Brom knows the exact spot where the pearl oysters are located.”