Ames reported that Jarvel had confessed to taking part in the airport kidnapping. He had been the young man in the back seat who chloroformed Kwanu’s secretary. He had also driven past the Swift home in a car from which the spear had been launched.
“Jarvel says it was shot from a specially made spear gun, with a compressed-gas cartridge.”
“How about that aluminum foil?” Tom asked.
“Jarvel was in on that, too-again as the driver. He says their car sped past the plant and the bundle of aluminum ‘birds’ was fired over the wall with some sort of homemade bazooka. But he has no idea for what purpose.”
“He was just a hired hand, eh?” Tom said.
“It figures, since he’s an ordinary hoodlum. Jarvel says his boss was the same man who conked you at the airport-tall fellow, bulging forehead, sharp chin, speaks with a slight foreign accent.”
“That describes him,” Tom agreed. “Is he the only person Jarvel worked with on these jobs?”
“Yes. He’s the one who gave the orders and actually fired the spear and the aluminum foil. Jarvel knows him only by the name of Kroker.”
Both the State Police and the FBI, Ames added, now had a dragnet out for Kroker.
PILLARS OF FIRE 149
“Okay, Harlan. I’m glad to hear all this,” Tom said. “With luck, maybe they’ll pick up Kroker soon-if he hasn’t followed me to Africa.”
As Tom emerged from the air-conditioned plane into the torrid African heat, he felt as if he were entering a steam bath.
“Whew!” Tom glanced up at the lead-colored sky. Though the sun had clouded over, the humidity seemed to be increasing. “Another reason to hurry up on this job,” he thought. “A few more weeks and the rains will set in. From the looks of that sky, we may get a storm today!”