A Whiff Of Madness Part 10

Dr. Yach said, "My optimism is growing. We may finally get out of St Charlie's."

Mulligan gathered up the three popcorn b.a.l.l.s. "Miniaturized stunguns. Here's the barrel ... you Lave to pull it out through the stick.u.m. Aim the ball, squeeze it, and your opponent freezes." He stood.

"Now I'll outline the escape plan, and the route we'll be taking. We have to spring Dr. Ferrier, too."

Hare was staring down at the picnic basket, mouth downturned, "What about the pemican-on-rye sandwiches? You told us not to touch them either."

"Oh, yes, I'm glad you reminded me." The birdman claimant took one of the sandwiches. "The sandwiches are for me. So busy putting this little show together I completely missed lunch and dinner."

"What's the use of escaping?" asked Hesslin as he finished his apple. They'll only catch us again."

"No they won't," Mulligan promised "I've arranged tilings so as to avoid that possibility. You, Dr.Yach, and young Hare will be smuggled into a neutral territory by an a.s.sociate of mine who'll meet us outside the walls of St. Charlie's. I have a hunch you'll be able to return to Laranja East quite soon." He crossed to Summer. "You and I and Dr. Ferrier will remain in the capital, making our way to a hideaway I know of. You're up to traveling?"

"I'll make it; don't worry," Summer told him. "Let's go over the plan."

"I'm going to miss this old place," sighed Dr, Yach.

The universal lockpick worked perfectly. The knockout gas, sprayed through the judas hole by Dr. Yach, had put their most immediate guard, the one who'd escorted Mulligan, quietly to sleep.

"So this is the corridor," whispered Dr. Yach as he rotated his head to take in the dirty walls and the water-stained ceiling. "I was unconscious when they locked me away eighteen years ago, thus I don't believe-"

"That's enough nostalgia," said Hesslin, who held a popcorn-ball stungun in his right paw. "We have to extricate Dr. Ferrier and then get the h.e.l.l out of St Charlie's."

With Mulligan leading they eased along the long, curving corridor.

"Guard!" Hare saw him first, and squeezed his stungun.

The big lizardman stiffened, one foot in the air, in the act of coming around a corner.

They continued on.

"This is Ferrier's cell." Mulligan's feathered hand touched the lockpick to the heavy door.

The door creaked open.

"Don't interrupt me, don't come intruding in on me," said Dr. Ferrier. He was hunched on the cell floor, his back to them. "Dead in under ten seconds, under ten seconds. We're moving right along."

"Hey, Dr. Ferrier." Summer stepped across the threshold.

The catman didn't turn around. "I've already had my night's offal. I'll thank you to leave me alone, leave me in peace." Using its tail as a handle he picked up the mouse he'd just succeeded in killing. "An amazing breakthrough, using only ingredients sc.r.a.ped from the cell walls plus-"

"We've come to get you out of this G.o.dd.a.m.ned place," said Summer as he took hold of the doctor's shoulder.

The scientist looked at him. "This is some sort of escape attempt, an attempt at escape, is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, and it's been going pretty good up until this point," said Summer. "You can bring your mouse or leave it, but let's move."

"Catmen don't eat mice," said Hesslin from the doorway. "Cats eat mice. There's no need for slurs at a-"

"Dr. Ferrier, please, come along," urged Mulligan. "We're operating on a fairly tight schedule."

"On a tight schedule, a tight schedule is it? Well, very well." Dropping the dead mouse and rising, he accompanied Summer out of the cell.

"Guard!" came the warning whisper of Dr. Yach.

"I'll use this knockout gas on him. Now where's that trigger again?"

"What in the perishing b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l do you ruddy blooming loonies think you're-"

"Ah, I remember. This is how it works." The bearded old man succeeded in spraying the knockout mist directly into his own face. He toppled over.

"Of all the blasted blooming b.l.o.o.d.y idiot things I've-"

"There!" Hesslin froze the guard with his stungun.

Hare was beside the old doctor, poking him. "Wake up, Dr. Yach. We're escaping, remember?"

"He'll be out for hours," said Mulligan.

"Stand aside." Hesslin caught hold of the back of the slumbering doctor's tunic and lifted him onto his shoulder. "Now can we get on with this d.a.m.n escape before we all rot here in the corridor?"

CHAPTER 16

The wet wind grabbed the inn sign, ripped it from its hooks and sent it spinning through the night to skim Palma's rain-swept head The Nose and Foot Inn," he read as the sign pa.s.sed over. "Another place commemorating a human tragedy, no doubt."

"Try not to say anything about Pegleg's not having a real nose," suggested the Scarlet Angel.

"He's a mite self-conscious."

"Why do they call him Pegleg if he's missing a nose?" Palma dismounted and guided his horse into the low musty stable at the back of the inn.

"He lost a leg, too, in another war." She led her mount into one of the many empty stalls. "He used to operate an inn near Ravenshoe named the Leg and Beartrap."

"Sounds cozier than this place."

The girl, lips moist with night rain, kissed him. "'Tis not the most auspicious place to spend our last night together, dear Palma," she said finally. "Pegleg, however, is one of the few innkeepers in this area who can be trusted."

"He knows who you are?"

"Yes, but he's not the kind who'd betray me," the Scarlet Angel a.s.sured him. "Remember, don't say anything about his poor tin nose, or its being lopsided."

"I'll compliment him on his ears or chin, giving the impression I haven't noticed the nose at all."

"We could have stayed at the Crystal Gardens. Tully has several spare exhibition halls."

"All with an abundance of gla.s.s walls," he said. "This way, we also got twenty miles closer to the capital before stop-"

"Clutch the firmament!" ordered a tenor voice.

"Beg pardon?" Palma turned to face the man in the stable doorway.

The man waved his blaster pistol. "I mean, raise your mitts. Else I'll have no choice but to-"

"Pegleg, it's me," announced the Scarlet Angel, arms spread wide.

The innkeeper slowly lowered his gun. "I thought it was horse thieves. In fact, I'm still not at all certain your companion may not be a nagnapper."

"He's a dear friend, Pegleg. We'd like a room for the night."

Pegleg slipped his gun away under his ap.r.o.n. After a few seconds he began chuckling, rubbing his hands together. "Well, this is indeed fateful, Angel," he said "You can help me celebrate."

"Surely. What are you celebrating?"

"My new nose." Pegleg tapped it fondly. "Is it not a beauty?"

"I can't see very well in this light."

"Why, of course you can't. What sort of innkeeper am I, not to invite the both of you inside on a foul night such as this? Come inside, do."

There was a substantial fire in the large stone fireplace of the dining room Pegleg led them to. "I was commencing to think the inclement weather would keep all customers away, thus affording me no opportunity to show off my new nose. Now then, What do you think of it, Angel?" The nose was of highly polished aluminum, reflecting the flames that flickered in the fireplace.

"A great improvement," she told him, Pegleg took a step in Palma's direction. "I'd value your opinion of it, sir. What say you?"

Palma said, "I'm not allowed to discuss your nose."

"Eh?"

Shaking her head, the Scarlet Angel led Palma to the dinner table. "You needn't-"

"I like your ears, though," the bald photographer added as he tapped a few of his camera cases.

"One sees so few matching ears, especially in my trade. A man with a symmetrical head is a rarity and should be complimented."

Pegleg tugged at one of his ears. "Why thank you, sir," he said. "Ah, by the by, Angel, take a gander at this." He rolled up the left leg of his pantaloons to display a gleaming new metal leg. The leg was of filigreed silver, encrusted with rubies and chunks of jade. "I've added this since last we met."

"Very handsome." The girl seated herself opposite Palma. "Obviously expensive,""I won't bother to show you the toenails now, each is inset with-"

"Inherit some money, have you?" inquired Palma.

"No, nothing of the ... Ah, that is, yes. You've put your finger on it truly, sir." Pegleg lifted a menu off the mantle. "A dear great aunt of mine departed this life, leaving me a quite large and completely unexpected legacy."

"That's admirable," said Palma, "using the money to improve yourself."

The innkeeper inhaled with zest "Breathing has taken on a whole new meaning since I had this nose installed. 'Twould bring a smile to your sweet lips, Angel, to see your old Pegleg sniffing rosebuds of a morning."

"Sniff them while you may," murmured Palma. Pegleg presented him the menu. "The ox is very good tonight, should you be in the mood for ox."

"We'll need time to decide," the red-haired girl said.

"To be sure, dear, take all the time you wish." Pegleg backed toward the door. "I have a little something special in the wine cellar; 'twill add to the festivities."

As soon as the innkeeper was gone the Scarlet Angel asked, "What is it that's disturbing you, beloved Palma?"

"Where'd he get the money for the nose? Where'd he get the money for that leg?"

"No doubt he came by the money in some kind of shady deal," she answered. "Naturally enough, not knowing you, Pegleg doesn't want to discuss it openly. There's no need to-" Clippety clop!

Clippety clop!

Palma jumped up. "Usually the wine cellar is directly under the joint," he said. "He doesn't have to ride to it."

"Perhaps it is not ... She ran to the window and drew aside the rough-spun curtains. The rain was slamming hard against the leaded panes. "I can't see the horseman at all."

"Best to sit yourself down, Miss Angel." A very tall and wide young catman had entered, a pistol in each paw.

"Jacques? Surely you do not aim those at me?"

Jacques's whiskers dropped. "We've had a change of policy, Miss Angel."

"Who paid for the nose?" Palma rested a hand on one of the camera cases that hung around his neck.

"Well," said Jacques, trying not to meet their eyes while yet keeping them covered, "the Territorial Police made the master an offer, which he accepted. If he but turn in those of his road-agent customers who chance to put up here at the Nose and Foot they will continue to provide him with much gold. He pondered long, you may be sure, Miss Angel, before he came to the conclusion ... don't fool with those gadgets, sir,"

"I was trying to decide which of my cameras to use to capture you on film, Jacques."

"Me? Why would you want a picture of me?"

"I'm on a roving a.s.signment for Coult Publications." Palma's fingers unfastened the lid of the case.

"We're especially eager to find interesting faces for People, Etc. Magazine."

Jacques gave a negative jerk of his furry head. "I wouldn't say I had an interesting face."

"You don't see yourself as I, with the eye of a trained artist, see you," said Palma. "True, it might perhaps make a more striking shot if you had perhaps an aluminum nose or ..." He pulled a stungun from the case and shot the catman.

Before Jacques could squeeze the trigger of either of his blasters he stiffened.

"OK, let's make a hasty departure."

"I'm sorry I led you into a-"

"Apologize on the gallop, Angel." He stuck the stungun back in its case, then nodded toward a rear door of the dining room. "Can we get to the stable that way?"