Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [30]
Mr. Howe snickered and said, “Find anything?”
“How are you feeling, Dad?”
“Fine, fine. Did you find anything?”
Looking a little confused, Miss Howe said, “Nothing at all. Mr. Hill’s operative, Mr. Data, thinks that’s important.”
Picard nodded at Data, who said, “Wesley and I searched Miss Howe’s room and found no clues whatsoever. We also found nothing beneath Miss Howe’s second-story window. No footprints, no torn shrubs, nothing dropped from a pocket.”
“You see?” Mr. Howe said.
Data said, “The fact we found nothing is in itself conclusive. In this scenario, only Boogeymen would have the capability to hang outside Miss Howe’s window and, as she describes it, moan at her, without leaving any clues behind.”
“I don’t get you,” Mr. Howe said.
Data was about to explain when three Boogeymen leapt in through the wall of the greenhouse; the effect was like an explosion, pelting them with shards of glass. The two end ones were dressed in brown pin-striped suits and were waving twentieth-century projectile-spitting pistols. The one in the middle wore a gray suit and a fedora. In his whispering nightmare voice the Boogeyman in the middle said, “Captain Crusher. Captain Crusher.”
Wesley backed toward the jungle, horror on his face. Picard and Data closed in front of him, their hands up, ready to do battle.
One of the hench-Boogeymen fired twice into the air, bringing a shower of broken glass down onto himself. At the same time, the chief mobster-Boogeyman burst between Picard and Data, grabbed Wesley, and threw him over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Seconds later, all three Boogeymen had ducked out through the jagged hole they’d made in the wall.
Data was already after Wesley and the three Boogeymen, and Picard was right behind him. He had only enough time to hear Mr. Howe comment calmly, “It’s all her imagination.”
The outside air seemed cold after the close heat of the greenhouse, and it refreshed Picard immediately. He threw off his trench coat and fedora as he followed Data to the first gentle rise and, not far away, saw the three Boogeymen moving along in a gorillalike crouch. One of the Boogeymen still carried Wesley over his shoulder.
“We can surely catch them,” the captain said as they started down the hill.
Suddenly Picard was blinded by a flash of light.
Chapter Six
RIKER SAT in the captain’s chair and did not look happy to be there. He glared at the main viewscreen, just to have something to glare at besides the shine on the toe of his left boot. On the screen stars sprinkled toward him as the Enterprise poked toward Memory Alpha at warp five. He turned and glared at Counselor Troi, who sat with her eyes closed. Dr. Crusher sat in the chair that Riker normally occupied. She did not glare at Troi, but waited with a look of expectation on her face. She was just as tense as Riker.
“They are confused,” said Troi without opening her eyes, “and a little upset.” She smiled. “No reading off Data, of course. The captain is trying hard not to be angry.”
“What about?” Riker said.
“Impossible to say.”
“What about Wesley?” Dr. Crusher said.
“He is bearing up well.”
“That’s something, I guess,” Dr. Crusher said and leaned back in Riker’s chair. She drummed her fingers on her thigh.
Riker called into the air, “La Forge?”
“Here, Commander,” came La Forge’s voice.
“Any luck getting onto the holodeck?”
“Not so far, sir. Every time we set up a bypass, the computer takes control by another route.”
“Can’t you override?”
“Override is inoperative.”
“How about cutting through the doors?”
“Working on it now, sir. It’ll take a few hours. We have to be careful where we cut. And tritanium alloy is not exactly tissue paper.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Aye, sir.”
Riker stood up and began to pace. Dr. Crusher took another look at Troi, who shrugged apologetically. Dr. Crusher left the bridge.
The Boogeyman who’d been carrying Wesley threw him onto his bed and stood at its foot, grinning at him unpleasantly. A second sat in the chair behind his desk, and the third paced in front