The Mystery of the Singing Serpent - M. V. Carey [32]
Did you notice Pat Osborne tonight?”
“Scared,” said Max.
“Very much so,” said Shaitan with grim satisfaction. “She’ll be even more scared if she doesn’t make her offering. Now Noxworth isn’t going to scare easily, but he won’t have all these pangs of conscience, either, and he’s got real dough. No hot stuff there. We’ll get cold, hard cash. We see to it that his competition folds up and he’ll be duly grateful. It’ll be worth hanging in here for that.”
Max snorted. “The things that these nuts get upset about floor me,” he declared. “The Osborne dame wants a crystal ball that once belonged to a movie star, and Noxworth can’t stand it when the place across the street draws more customers than his own lousy delicatessen. Noxworth’s got money he hasn’t even counted yet. Why should he care?”
“It isn’t the money,” said Shaitan. “It’s the power. These people want to believe they’ve got power, so we convince them that they do.”
“How are you planning to convince Noxworth?” asked Max. “Is his competition going to have an accident on the freeway, too?”
The man who enjoyed being Dr. Shaitan put his fingertips together and stared at them dreamily. “You lack imagination, Max. No, the singing serpent will perform in a different key for Noxworth. It will be a bit riskier, but it may work. Even if it doesn’t, Noxworth won’t get off the hook because we’ll see to it that he, personally, delivers the serpent. And we’ll see to it that he witnesses the result. He’ll come through, just the way Pat Osborne will come through.”
Dr. Shaitan yawned. “I’m beat,” he said. “I’m going to bed.” He got up and started for the doorway.
“You left your cape,” said Max.
“I’ll get it in the morning.” Shaitan’s footsteps went away up the stairs.
“Slob!” snarled Max. He pushed back his chair and went to the doorway. The light switch clicked and the lower floor of the house on Torrente Canyon went dark. Jupe heard Max follow the high priest of the fellowship up the stairs. A door slammed. Water gurgled in the pipes at the back of the house.
Jupiter slipped out from behind the black drapes and tiptoed out of the ritual room into the hall. He stole to the back of the house, and was pleased to find that Dr. Shaitan and his assistant had neglected to lock the kitchen door after they returned to the house. Jupe slipped out without making a sound and started for the gate. He looked back once to see lights in several of the upper windows. The shadow of a man showed clearly on one drawn shade. Jupiter grinned. Dr. Shaitan had his head thrown back. He was gargling.
Jupe wished he had a photograph of the demonic high priest at his bedtime ritual. Then he was at the wall, searching in the moonlight for the switch hidden in the ivy — the switch that would open the gate and release him. When his fingers touched it, he took a deep breath and flipped the plastic lever. The alarm did not clang. The floodlights did not blaze.
There was a faint sound from the house. It might have been something triggered by the
switch, but Jupe did not pause to wonder. He stepped to the gate, turned the handle and tugged. The gate opened.
At that, stunningly, the floodlights did glare.
“Hey! Hey, you kid! Hold it right there!”
Jupiter didn’t turn around. He didn’t have to.
He knew instantly that the voice belonged to the muscular Max. He began to run.
“Hold it, I said!” shouted Max.
Something hit Jupiter — something large. He
felt himself tumbling over and over, rolling in the road. And someone was rolling with him.
“Keep down, you idiot!” said a voice in his ear.
There was a roar, and buckshot whined
overhead and crackled through the oleanders beside
the road.
“Don’t move,” cautioned the person who was
holding Jupe down.
Jupiter winced as another roar came from the
driveway of the walled house and more shot
whistled above him.
“Now!” cried Jupe’s captor. He flung himself away from Jupe. Jupe lunged to his feet and saw a man sprint toward the place