“I tell you it doesn’t matter!” insisted Shelby. “You’ll be out of the country soon. I’ll take care of the kids!”
“You’re not leaving, Mr. Tuckerman?” said Jupe. “I can guess why. You’re going to stay here and enjoy some of the loot from the robbery, aren’t you? You aren’t going to give it to the Republicans.”
Ernie stared at Shelby, and Shelby’s colour rose, then drained away again until his face was a ghastly white. It was clear that Jupe had hit on the truth.
“What is this?” said Ernie. There was a note of menace in his voice.
“The money has gone to pay for the guns!” snapped Shelby. “You know that, Ernesto!”
“I know only about two hundred thousand dollars,” said Ernie. “This afternoon you gave Strauss half. And tonight I gave him the other half. But what about the rest of the bank money? You said you sent it to Rodriguez, but your face says you didn’t! Don’t worry about a thing, you said. Always you were such an organizer. You took care of the wigs and the funny clothes and the getaway car and the money. And we trusted you. You’d been the courier for such a long time. You carried the money we collected for Rodriguez, and you said it didn’t mean anything to you. You said it was like carrying so many cabbages or pieces of paper. It was only a shipment to you. Did some of that money stick to your hands, too?”
“How dare you!” cried Shelby. “You’ll answer for that!”
“No. You’re the one who’s going to answer,” said Ernie. “You’re coming with us tonight, and you’ll speak to Rodriguez’ people in Mexico City. And maybe you’ll come all the way–to Mesa d’Oro, and–”
“You’re being ridiculous!” cried Shelby. “I can’t leave tonight! I have important work to do here. My mission isn’t finished!”
“There is at least fifty thousand dollars in Mr. Bonestell’s house,” said Jupiter.
“You lie!” shouted Shelby. He turned suddenly on old Mrs. Denicola. “You old crone!” he shouted. “You dreamed about that, too, didn’t you? And you told that kid and . . .”
“Mrs. Denicola told me nothing,” said Jupiter. “However, I can tell your friend Ernesto where the money is. It’s in the freezer of Mr. Bonestell’s refrigerator, hidden in an ice-cream carton.”
Shelby took two quick steps across the room and slapped Jupe hard.
Ernie shook his head. “That was very foolish, my friend,” he said. “Now you must come, and we won’t talk any more about it, eh?”
Shelby’s hand went to his coat. A second later there was a gleam of dark steel, and Shelby’s gun was in his hand.
“So it’s like that, eh?” said Ernie.
Luis had been watching quietly, unnoticed and forgotten. He moved now. So quickly that Shelby could not react, Luis stepped behind him. His hands went to Shelby’s neck. Shelby cried out once, dropped his gun, and crumpled to the floor.
Ernie stepped forward, picked up the gun, and pointed it at Shelby.
Shelby groaned and sat up, and Luis yanked him to his feet. A moment later the men were gone. They were out and down the hill, and the rain was drumming on the roof and Eileen Denicola was struggling with her bonds.
“I stalled them as long as I could,” said Jupe. “I hope Mr Bonestell got away in time, that he’ll get the police and they’ll be nabbed before they can leave the pier.”
“I think it will not be that way,” said old Mrs. Denicola. “I think there is something that has yet to happen before the police can come–before we can leave this room.”
“What?” said Eileen. Then she caught her breath. There was a new sound–a sound that came not from the storm, but from the earth itself. It was a groaning sound. Somewhere close by a window shattered.
“Holy Saint Patrick!” gasped Eileen Denicola.
“My dream!” whispered the old lady. “The danger! The room that twists around the boy and me!” She closed her eyes and began to pray rapidly in Italian.
Timbers groaned again, and more glass smashed. But it wasn’t an earthquake, as Bob had thought. Inch by inch the sodden, rain-soaked hillside was sliding out from under the motel!
20
A Fiery End
THE ROOM LURCHED!
Lamps smashed to the floor, and there were showers of sparks as the wiring began to tear apart.
“Don’t let it burn!” prayed Eileen Denicola. “Dear heaven, please don’t let it burn!”
More sparks flew, blue-white and dying as they fell. Then there was darkness–a darkness filled with the shrieking of timbers and the screech of nails being pulled out of wood.
There was another lurch, and old Mrs. Denicola cried out.
“Help!” yelled Pete. “Hey, somebody! Help!”
No one shouted back. No help came.
“This whole hillside is going to go any minute!” said Eileen Denicola.
She had no sooner spoken than the motel slid another couple of metres, sickeningly, sending chairs tumbling in the dark. Pete crashed into the bed and Jupe’s chair went over on its side.
“Mrs. Denicola?” called Jupe. “Are you all right?”
“If it’s me you speak to, I have been better,” said the old lady. “Eileen, where are you?”
“On the floor,” said Eileen.
“The police have got to come!” said Jupe. “Mr. Bonestell must have reached them by now. Bob, are you okay? Pete?”
“Okay,” gasped Bob.
“I’m here,” said Pete.
They waited, listening again. Jupe heard water running–a sound nearer than the rain that drummed on the roof. He lay on his side, his arms aching where they were tied to the chair. He felt wetness and smelled a muddy, chemical sort of smell. He puzzled about it for a moment, then closed his eyes in terror and despair.
The swimming pool was beginning to break up! It was the water from the pool that was running down through the room. If the pool really went, tons of water–thousands and thousands of gallons of water–would come sweeping down on them.
“Hey, where’s all the water coming from?” Pete demanded in the darkness.
Eileen Denicola had realized the truth too. She began to shout for help.
Suddenly there was an answering shout from the treacherous, slippery hill outside.
“Over here!” yelled someone. “They’re over here!”
Someone tried to open the door, but it was jammed.
There was another horrid lurch, and the window that faced the pool shattered and fell into the room. Then there was some light. Two men were on the hillside with torches. There was more shouting, and more water pouring through the room.
“Mrs. Denicola!” Jupe yelled. “Get Mrs. Denicola!”
A highway patrolman came through the window, followed by a fireman. When the fireman saw the boys and the women tied to chairs, he said, “What the . . .”
That was all that was said. The two men had old Mrs. Denicola out in a twinkling, still bound to her chair and praying loudly as she went. More men arrived and Eileen was carried out, and then the boys. In seconds they were free of their bonds and stumbling quickly down the hill, falling and being picked up and helped along, and then falling again.
On the highway, traffic was stopped. The night throbbed with the sound of engines, and searchlights swept the hillside. There were flares and barriers. The rescuers hustled the boys and the Denicolas across the road to safety.
“I told them you were up there!” It was Mr. Bonestell. He had fought his way past the barriers, and he almost danced as he grabbed Jupe’s hand and shook it. “I told them you were up there! You’re safe! Thank God!”
“The boat!” cried old Mrs. Denicola. She pointed.
The Denicola house was dark, and so was the office. There was no sign of the white truck at the end of the pier. But a hundred metres or so beyond the pier were the running lights of the Maria III.
“Those . . . those pirates!” yelled Eileen Denicola. She glared after the Maria III. “If they think they’re going to get away . . . !”
She started towards the pier.
“Come on!” yelled Pete. He grabbed Bob’s arm and started after her.
“Mr. Bonestell, tell the police to get the Coast Guard,” said Jupe. “The men on that boat are gunrunners!”
“I will tell them all about it,” announced old Mrs. Denicola. Jupe nodded, and ran after the others.
Eileen dodged into the office and snatched a key that was hidden away in a desk drawer. She ordered Pete to get a pair of oars from the locker behind the office.
There was a shout from the highway, and a roar of engines as the firemen backed their trucks away. The hill slid at last, bringing the motel crashing and splintering down with it. The wreckage covered half the road. The swimming pool collapsed completely, and a muddy flood rushed down the hill and across the highway.
Eileen and the boys looked at the wreckage for just a moment. Then she turned and ran out on to the rain-swept dock. The boys went after her.