XIX
A LUCKY ENCOUNTER
Pocketing his pistol, Don Winslow moved out into the glow of the car’s lights.
“Thanks, Hammond!” he said simply, gripping the other’s hand. “Your coming for us is going to simplify a lot of things. Come on, Red—I mean, Penny! Michael Splendor’s last message told us to leave the plane right here.”
As the car cut back into the highway leading to the city, Hammond leaned forward to speak to the driver.
“Drive slowly when you get inside the city’s limits, Martin,” he said. “Swing around past Cho-San’s place before you pull up at the office.”
Leaning back against the cushions, he addressed the two young Intelligence officers.
“We got the whole story by beam radiophone,” he explained. “That’s how we were able not only to meet you gentlemen, but also to make certain other preparations as well; such as an electric needle for giving you a scar, like the little one Count Borg has just below his cheek bone. You can only see that mark by a bright light, but it’s one of the things his Scorpia friends are going to look for.”
“I know about that, Hammond,” Don Winslow answered. “Borg himself called my attention to it yesterday. There’s the matter of his clothes, too. Borg has always been a slick dresser, and he is supposed to have escaped with a wad of Splendor’s cash. That means his Scorpia pals will expect him to show up dressed like a fashion plate.”
“They will,” nodded Hammond. “Splendor broadcast the story of 'Count Borg’s’ escape with his plane and his dough. There’s no doubt the Scorpion and his agents know about that. They’ll expect you to show up at the meeting two nights from now, if not sooner. They’ll find out about the plane having landed. Splendor’s flying here tomorrow with Miss Colby on Captain Holding’s orders. He’ll pretend he’s just trailing his stolen plane....”
“Z-ZZZ-ZZZZ! PR-R-R-RRH!”