“The porter saw two van men carrying out a large wooden crate about fifteen or twenty minutes ago, sir.”
“Oh, Bud!” Sandy’s voice trembled. “Could they have kidnapped Tom inside the crate?”
“I sure hope not, but we’d better do some fast checking!”
Phyl, pale with fright, put her arm around Sandy. Bud called London Airport and found out Tom’s seacopter had not yet arrived. So it seemed unlikely that the young inventor would have gone there without notifying anyone.
After hanging up, Bud asked the desk clerk, “Were those men from a real trucking company?”
The clerk frowned. “I do know Mr. Swift was
70 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
expecting them. Wait a moment! I saw the name on their uniforms-Empire Van Company, Limited.”
Bud phoned the firm. A dispatcher confirmed that a truck had been sent to the hotel.
“I can call them by radio, if you like, sir.”
“Do that, please,” Bud requested.
A few moments later the dispatcher reported back. “No response, sir, but I’ll keep trying.”
Bud took down a description of the van and its license number. Then he telephoned Scotland Yard and asked to speak to Inspector Raeburn.
The inspector listened to Bud’s story. “I’ll send a police car to your hotel immediately, and I’ll get an alarm out for that van.”
The police car soon arrived with a detective sergeant and two constables.
They questioned the hotel staff but learned nothing more except a vague description of the two van men. Bud asked if he and the girls could accompany the officers back to Scotland Yard.
“Certainly, sir,” Sergeant Vaughan replied.