Get Smart 9 - Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair Page 2

  Max and 99 raced to him.

  “Chief—are you all right?” Max asked.

  He opened his eyes. “Yes . . . I . . . what happened?”

  “My fault again, Chief,” 99 said apologetically. “I forgot what happens when that pillow is moved. Did you break anything this time?”

  “I don’t know—did I? It sounded like china shattering.

  “Don’t worry about that. I mean you,” 99 said. “Try to stand up.”

  The Chief shook his head. “No. I’m going to stay right here in the corner until I finish filling you in on this assignment,” he said. “If I don’t, I’ll be going to a hospital instead of back to headquarters when I leave here. Now . . . where was I?”

  “You were diving across the coffee table, Chief,” Max told him. “And very gracefully, too—considering, of course, that you weren’t prepared for it.”

  “I mean where was I in the briefing?”

  “Oh. Well, you’d just told us that the KAOS assassins won’t be wearing badges.”

  “That’s right,” the Chief nodded. “I can’t suggest any way to identify them. They’ll probably look like common ordinary everyday people. But, somehow, you’ll have to locate them on that train, and then follow them wherever they go. That’s the important thing. We have to find out where that meeting is being held.”

  “Chief, there’s an easier way, you know,” Max said.

  “There is—how?”

  “Well, we know the assassins will be on the train,” Max said. “So, why don’t we just take all the passengers into custody and re-educate them all? That way, we’d be bound to get the assassins.”

  “Max . . . I’m afraid that would get us into a bit of trouble.”

  “How? Who would tell? All the passengers would be re-educated. They wouldn’t know what happened to them.”

  “No, Max, we can’t do that,” the Chief said. “Besides, it wouldn’t be a guarantee of success. You see, it’s Arbuthnot we really want the most. He knows more about assassination than any man alive. If we could snare him and then relieve him of all that information— Well, obviously, it would be a great day for Control.”

  “That makes my idea all the better,” Max said. “If we took all the passengers into custody, we’d get Arbuthnot, too. How could we miss?”

  “Max, we’re not sure that Arbuthnot will be on the train. The KAOS communication we intercepted ordered all the U.S. assassins to take that train, but there was no mention of Arbuthnot. He might be flying to the meeting place. Or hitchhiking, for all we know.”

  Max sighed. “Okay, I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way,” he said. “Now, let me get it straight. We board the train and then we come back here to the apartment. After—”

  “Max, no!” the Chief broke in. “Why come back here to the apartment?”

  “To get the tickets,” Max replied. “I always forget the tickets.”

  “I’ll take the tickets, Max,” 99 said. “After all, what’s a wife for?”

  “Okay,” Max said. “We board the train and we locate the KAOS assassins. We stay with them until they arrive at the meeting place, then we go to the nearest telephone—”

  “No, Max,” the Chief interrupted again.

  “You’re right, Chief. We locate them, then I call you on my shoe phone. Then—”

  “No, Max,” the Chief said.

  “Do we locate them?” Max asked.

  “Yes, that part is correct,” the Chief nodded. “But it probably won’t be possible for you to telephone me. KAOS has developed a communications neutralizer. It can make all the normal means of communication for miles around inoperative. They will undoubtedly have a communications neutralizer at the meeting place. So, you will not be able to phone me or telegraph me.”

  “I could write you a letter,” Max suggested.

  “These days, it would take too long to reach me.”

  “Smoke signals?”

  “No, Max. But there is a way.” The Chief got what looked like a coin from his pocket and handed it to Max. “What does this look like?” he said.

  Max scrutinized it closely for a second. “A penny?”

  “Yes . . . but what kind of a penny, Max?”

  Max turned the coin over and over. “An Indian-head penny?” he guessed.

  “Max, look closer.”

  “Oh, yes . . . I see . . .” Max said after a second. “That’s not an Indian, is it? It’s . . . now, don’t tell me—I know him. I’ve seen him in old newsreels . . . wearing that Indian head-dress. It’s . . . uh . . .” He shrugged. “I give up.”

  “Max, that’s a Coolidge-head penny,” the Chief said.

  “Sure! That’s right. How many of these did they mint, Chief?”

  “None!” the Chief replied. “That’s the only Coolidge-head penny in existence, Max. We made it that way so you could carry it in your pocket and yet identify it quickly when you needed it. Do you have any idea what it really is?”

  Max inspected the penny again. “A Hoover-head nickel?” he guessed.

  “No! It’s a communications neutralizer neutralizer!”

  “Oh . . . sure . . Max nodded. “I see. With this Coolidge-head penny, I can neutralize KAOS’ communications neutralizer, and then the phones will work.”

  “Even better than that, Max,” the Chief said. “When you rub that penny it sends out a signal. That signal will be picked up at Control headquarters. Then, we’ll be able to home in on it and locate the meeting place and take all those KAOS assassins—including Arbuthnot—into custody.”

  “That’s wonderful, Chief!” 99 said.

  “That’s more than Coolidge was able to do,” Max said. He dropped the penny into his pocket. “Is there anything else. Chief?”

  “No,” the Chief replied. “Just . . . just help me up . . . and let me get out of here before any more of those booby traps go off.”

  Max and 99 assisted the Chief in getting to his feet, then walked to the door with him.

  “The tickets are in here,” the Chief said, handing 99 an envelope. “Don’t miss that train.”

  “Don’t worry, Chief.”

  Max opened the door. “Sure you wouldn’t like to take a doggy bag of toast and coffee with you?” he said.

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure about that,” the Chief replied. He stepped out into the corridor. “Don’t forget, now—we’ll be waiting for that signal at headquarters.”

  “Got it,” Max nodded. “So long, Chief,” he said, starting to close the door.

  “Oh . . . and drop in anytime, Chief!” 99 called.

  “No, 99!” Max said.

  From the corridor came the sound of a crash. Then the Chief could be heard expressing himself in a way that indicated a certain degree of dissatisfaction with current conditions.

  “What happened?” 99 asked Max, baffled.

  “That’s a booby trap I forgot to tell you about,” Max explained. “Never say ‘Drop in anytime’ to anyone who’s leaving, 99. That particular phrase trips a trap door in the corridor.”

  99 looked, horrified, at the closed door. The Chief’s complaints could still be heard—but much more faintly now. “Max, we better do something!”

  “That’s been taken care of,” Max informed her, turning away. “The trap door opens into a doctor’s office on the ground floor. By now, the Chief is in good hands.”

  2.

  MAX AND 99 spent the rest of the morning packing. It took considerable time because they were not sure where they were going. As the Chief had pointed out, the train might take the KAOS assassins only on the first leg of the trip to the meeting site. Consequently, Max and 99 might end up in the South, the North, the East or the West. So, they packed fur parkas, tennis shorts, ski boots, sandals, ear muffs and swim suits, and so forth and so on. Just guessing, Max speculated that their baggage weighed seven tons. As a result, they left it where it was—in the living room, kitchen, up the stairs, and in the bedroom—tossed a change of underwear into a manila envelope and le
ft for the train station.

  They had no trouble locating the train once they reached the station. It had both a number—one-thousand-four-hundred-seventy-six—and a name—The Miami Beach Local.

  “Doesn’t this train go to New York?” Max asked the conductor as he and 99 climbed aboard.

  “That’s right—it doesn’t,” the conductor, a fat, jolly-looking man with a white beard, replied. “We’re still on the winter schedule. All trains—including New York trains—go to Miami Beach.”

  “That’s the first thing about this case that’s made sense,” Max said to 99, leading the way along the corridor to their compartment. “You know who ought to be running this country? The same people who manage the railroads. There’s an old saying: What’s good for the St. Louis, Lackawana, St. Pierre & Hudson is good for the St. Louis, Lackawana, St. Pierre & Hudson.” He opened the door to the compartment and looked in, then entered, motioning for 99 to follow. “These modern trains are certainly much different from the old ones,” he said approvingly, looking around. “Look—we have our own private coal stove.”

  “It’s very nice,” 99 said. “But, Max, I think we ought to start looking for that contingent of KAOS assassins while passengers are still boarding.”

  Max looked at her coolly. “99, I’ll make the decisions,” he said. “Not only do I have seniority, but I’m head of the family. And, you are all wrong when you say that passengers are still boarding the train.”

  “I am, Max?”

  “People are boarding the train,” Max explained. “They don’t become passengers until after they’re on board. See how wrong you were? Will you just let me make the command decisions from now on?”

  “Yes, Max.”

  “Fine. Now, let’s go start looking for that contingent of KAOS assassins while people are still boarding. And, while we’re doing it, we can also look over the passengers who are already aboard.”

  Max and 99 left the compartment and began strolling along the aisle, sizing up the people who were boarding and the passengers who were already aboard.

  “Be casual,” Max said to 99. “Make it look as if we’re simply out for a morning constitutional. It’s too bad we didn’t think to bring along a dog to walk.”

  “I’m being casual, Max,” 99 said. “You’re the one who looks nervous.”

  “I can’t help it,” Max replied. “I think, down deep, I have a guilty conscience about spying. My real philosophy is: what other people do is none of my business.” He held out a hand. “See? I’m shaking like a leaf. Let’s start jogging, 99, so we won’t be so conspicuous.”

  “Jogging? Not conspicuous?”

  “Everybody jogs these days, 99. But how many people amble up and down the aisle of a train looking for KAOS assassins? If I could only—” He suddenly brightened. “I’ve got it!” To calm himself, he got the Coolidge-head penny from his pocket, and casually flipped it into the air, then caught it, as they proceeded along the aisle.

  “Max,” 99 complained, “now you’re making me nervous. I’m afraid you’ll lose that penny. It’s the only way we’ll have of contacting Control once we find out where the KAOS meeting is being held, you know. Without that penny, the whole mission might abort.”

  “99, relax,” Max replied reassuringly. “Flipping a coin is as natural to me as eating or sleeping or crossing my toes. I do it without thinking. And, as far as I know, I never miss.”

  “Sir!” a voice called.

  Max and 99 stopped and looked back. A large, fat, evil-looking man wearing dark glasses was gesturing to Max. “I believe this is yours,” he said. He returned to where Max and 99 were standing and put the Coolidge-head penny into Max’s open hand. “You dropped it as I was passing you,” the man said. Then he turned and continued along the aisle.

  “Max . . . what was that you were saying?” 99 said.

  “Well . . . maybe I miss every once in a while,” Max replied. “But in the long run—”

  “Not that,” 99 said. “I mean about crossing your toes. Max, that’s not natural. I’ve never heard of anybody who could cross their toes before. Max . . . why didn’t you tell me about this before we were married?”

  “I’m sorry, 99,” Max replied. “I just didn’t think it was worth mentioning. It comes natural to me, so I thought it was natural for everybody—as natural as being double-jointed.”

  “Well . . . a lot of people have double-jointed fingers, that’s true,” 99 said.

  “Fingers? I’m talking about double-jointed eyelids. Don’t tell me that isn’t natural, either! I’m beginning to won—” Max abruptly interrupted himself, looking thoughtful. “99—that big, fat, evil-looking fellow with the dark glasses. Isn’t that a lot like what a typical KAOS assassin would look like?”

  “Max, I think you’re right!” 99 looked up the aisle. “Do you see him? Where did he go?”

  “I don’t see him at the moment,” Max replied. “But we know the direction he took—he went forward. And if you go forward on a train, the only other way you can go is backwards. You can’t turn left, and you can’t turn right. And we know he didn’t come back this way. So, if he didn’t stop going forward and reverse his direction and come back this way, then he must be— I’ll tell you what, 99. Let’s just stand right here. Maybe he’ll pass by again.”

  99 pointed forward. “All we have to do is go that way—the way he went—Max.”

  Max shrugged. “Frankly, it sounds too simple to me. But, I’ll humor you, 99. We’ll go that way.”

  Max and 99 started forward, intending to track down the big, fat, evil-looking man in the dark glasses. At that same instant, however, the train began pulling out—and it started with such a jolt that Max and 99 lost their balance and stumbled backwards through seven cars, ending up on the rear observation platform.

  “99! Are you all right?”

  “Yes, Max,” 99 replied, rising. “How about you?”

  Max got to his feet. “I’m not sure yet,” he said. He grimaced, as if exerting great effort. “Yes . . . okay down there—my toes still cross,” he reported.

  “Is it that difficult, Max?”

  “Only when I’m wearing shoes,” he replied. He blinked rapidly. “Yes, I’m okay all over, 99,” he said. “The old eyelids still bend both ways. Now—where were we?”

  “On the trail of the big, fat, evil-looking man with the dark glasses,” 99 replied. “Let’s go, Max!”

  “Fine. And . . . ah, on the way, 99 . . . ah, would you keep an eye out for a Coolidge-head penny, please . . . When the train started, I was yanked right out from under it. It was in mid-flip and— Well, you get the picture.”

  “Oh, Max!”

  Proceeding slowly, looking into every nook and cranny for the Coolidge-head penny, Max and 99 made their way forward. When they reached the car they had been in when the train started, they found the fat, jolly-looking conductor with the white beard standing in the aisle examining something small in his hand and chuckling.

  “Ah . . . I wonder . . .” Max said. “Is that, by any chance, a Coolidge-head penny?”

  The conductor looked disappointed. “Oh, so that’s what it is,” he said. “I guess I was holding it upside down. I thought it was a Lincoln-head penny and Lincoln was wearing a false beard.” He handed the penny to Max.

  “A beard that looks like an upside-down Indian head-dress?” Max said.

  “Lincoln was a great humorist, you know,” the conductor explained. Then he moved on down the aisle. “Tickets!” he called. “Have your tickets ready!”

  Again, Max and 99 moved forward. As before, Max flipped the penny to keep cool. And, once more, watching him flip it, 99 grew increasingly apprehensive.

  A short while later, they reached the lounge car. There, at the far end, they spotted the big, fat, evil-looking man in the dark glasses. He was seated in a lounge chair and surrounded by nearly a dozen other evil-looking men in dark glasses—some fat, some thin and some just right. The object of their chase seemed to be holding
court. One or another of the men would speak to him, then he would reply. And when he was talking all the others remained silent and attentive.

  “Well, is there any doubt in your mind who the big, fat man in the dark glasses is, 99?” Max said. “That’s Arbuthnot. He’s the Great Teacher. And those are his students. I think we’ve found the location of the meeting. It’s being held right here on this train. Now, I’ll just rub this Coolidge-head penny and we’ll—”

  “Max,” 99 broke in, “don’t you think we ought to be a little more positive before we have the Chief send a squad of Control agents to take these men into custody? Suppose that isn’t Arbuthnot? And suppose those aren’t—”

  “All right, 99” Max said. “I have never been so sure of anything in my life. But, since, technically, I suppose, we’re still on our honeymoon and I’m humoring you, I’ll squander a little time and prove to you that I’m right. Now—see those two empty chairs near that group of men? Well, you and I will saunter over there and then we’ll occupy those seats and we’ll eavesdrop on the conversation. Okay?”

  “Yes, Max.”

  99 sauntered to the far end of the car and then sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs near the group of men that Max had identified as KAOS assassins. When she was seated, Max, still flipping the coin, moved toward her. He had taken only one step, however, when he missed the Coolidge-head penny and it fell in the aisle and then rolled under a chair that was occupied by a little old white-haired lady.

  Max got down on his hands and knees and peered under the chair. The little old lady, misunderstanding, whacked him on the back of the head with her purse.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Max apologized, rising and rubbing the back of his head, “but I lost a valuable coin under your chair. I wonder if you would mind getting up for a minute?”

  The little old lady cupped a hand around an ear. “What’s that you just lied to me?” she shouted. “I don’t hear good.”

  Max glanced around. The lounge car was crowded and everyone was staring at him. He faced back to the little old lady. “I said I lost a penny under your seat!” he told her, speaking loudly. “Would you stand up?”