Chapter Nine

“Not for long,” Dan replied grimly. He started cruising at a slow speed. Then, as they approached a traffic light, he slowed down even more.

The light began to change. Swiftly Dan slammed the wagon into gear and shot through, barely missing being hit by a sports car that had jumped the signal in the other direction. The sports car was not so lucky. Dan’s pursuer smashed into its right side-and was then penned in place by the flow of traffic from the cross street.

Nancy watched, fascinated, as Dan roared away. “Car pursuing police officer in accident on comer of Washington and Queen,” Dan snapped into his car radio.

“Pretty smooth,” George commented admiringly as Dan proceeded to execute a complicated series of turns and cut-throughs that brought them onto the service road to the airline arrivals building.

“Don’t try a maneuver like that unless you’re a cop on a chase. And even then you’d better have a darn good reason,” Dan answered, grinning.

He parked in short-term parking, and the four threaded their way through sparse late-night traffic into the terminal. There they played back Bess’s cassette recording and went over the careful notes George had organized so as to retrace Roberto’s and Teresa’s steps. Dan even got permission to go up to the actual tunnel through which the three travelers from San Carlos had deplaned.

“Nothing here,” Dan remarked after searching every inch of the tunnel. “You find anything?”

“Only a piece of a baggage claim ticket.” Nancy turned it over to him. “It’s from an afternoon flight today. Not much use.”

They searched the waiting area and worked their way down the corridor, still without discovering anything. Dan arranged to have the Customs and Immigration officials who had been on duty at the time available for questioning in the morning. “The FBI boys will probably insist on doing that themselves,” he said enviously.

At last they reached the main concourse again. Nancy looked around. “Where are the car rental counters?” she asked.

“Over there,” Dan said, pointing.

“Then I’ll bet this is the sitting area Teresa mentioned. It’s the closest one. Now if we could just figure out where Roberto might have gone while Teresa and Señora Ramirez waited here. He’d have to be out of their sight for a while so he could look for a hiding place.”

Nancy stood back as Dan began a careful search, alerting an airport security officer as he did so. Bess and George also began to search under Dan’s direction, while Nancy just stood thoughtfully. The others glanced at her curiously, but she ignored them. There were times when working with her brain could bring faster results than hunting for clues.

He’d have known he wouldn’t have much time, Nancy thought. He’d do what I’m doing-stand still for a minute and look around.

What would he have seen? The chairs. The standing ashtrays. They might be good places to leave something for pickup by a contact, but the meet had been planned for the tournament-not the airport.

Past the sitting area were a small coffee shop, which Dan was checking, and a novelty store. In the window was a large poster for the tennis tournament. Whoever’s doing promotion for the tournament hasn’t missed a trick, Nancy reflected, remembering the banner in the parking garage.

She sauntered over to look at the array of Washington, D.C., souvenirs in the store windows.

I wish I had a picture of Roberto with me to show the store owners, she thought. She’d have to come back with that later, after finding out when the same clerks would be on duty.

Where else could Roberto have gone to quickly, out of sight of Teresa? The restrooms?

“Negative,” Dan reported, emerging from the men’s room.

It seemed unlikely that Roberto would have risked going into the ladies’ room, but Nancy checked it just in case. Also negative.

There was nothing left to investigate but the baggage lockers themselves. They could only be rented for twelve hours at a time. Roberto would have to have planned a trip back to the airport twice a day to check the merchandise-

Something’s not adding up, Nancy thought, frowning. I’m sure the airport was the only place Roberto could have hidden the hit list. Unless he had it on him when he died.

He couldn’t have, or bodies other than Roberto’s would have started turning up.

By then Dan and Bess had returned, followed soon by George. “Pretty smart to advertise the tennis tournament out here,” George said, nodding toward the novelty store. “Should bring in a lot of tourists.”

Nancy only nodded. She was still lost in thought. Bess slipped an arm around her. “Come on. Dan’ll drive us home. He says the FBI will go through this place thoroughly first thing in the morning.”

They headed for the car. It was waiting, locked tightly, just where Dan had left it. Before unlocking it Dan went over it from top to bottom with an electronic beeper. “Just in case,” he said tautly. “Though a listening device would be more likely than a bomb.”

Dan unlocked the car, and they climbed in quickly. He paid the parking fee at the exit gate and began driving around the spiral of roads that led to the Memorial Parkway. There weren’t many cars at that time of night.

“Hey, that’s the second time that big gray car’s changed lanes with us,” Bess said suddenly.

Nancy sat up straight. “What big gray car?”

Bess pointed. Dan stole a glance over his shoulder, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen that car before tonight.”

“I’ve seen it before, too,” Nancy said. “If it’s not the one I was kidnapped in, it’s the spitting image of it!”

“Car rental company license plates,” Dan noted. He read them out to George, who wrote them down. Then he radioed in to the police.

“Okay.” Dan grinned humorlessly. “Let’s lose ’em.”

He put on a burst of speed. The gray car fell behind. Nancy remembered the speed it was capable of and felt a twinge of apprehension. But the car made no move to catch up with them, and her tension eased.

“Almost home,” Dan said reassuringly to Bess, who cuddled close to him.

By then the parkway was practically deserted. That shows how late it is, Nancy thought drowsily.

Suddenly lights flashed in her eyes. No, not lights. Mirror reflection-

Nancy sprang up in the seat just as the big car bore down on them, ominously close.

“What-?” Dan yelped as the headlights, turned to high beams, hit him right in the eyes.

The gray car struck them from behind, and the little station wagon swerved with a sickening lurch.

Dan fought desperately for control. But before he regained it the killer car struck again, ramming the wagon toward the guardrail.

The lightweight wagon leaped into the air-and then crashed through the rail. It plunged down the steep embankment with Nancy and her friends inside.

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