The House of Storms

By: Geron Kees
(© 2017 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

GKees@tickiestories.us

Chapter 2

Beach Road was fairly empty as they made their way northward the next morning. This was mostly due to early hour, and the fact that it was a Saturday. Mr. Dane drove, skillfully nosing the powerful black sedan along the winding road, while the boys talked about their coming adventure. Joe had the front seat next to his father, while Tony sat just behind him in the rear, with Chip in the middle and Frank seated next to him. The boys were still a little slow due to the hour, but the day was bright and sunny, and the breakfast that Mrs. Dane had cooked for them before leaving was working its way into their systems and perking them up.

"I hope everyone remembered their bathing suits," Frank said, looking around at the others. "My mom said the beach at Land's End is just fabulous." He glanced at his father then, and grinned. "You never said that you and mom took your honeymoon at this place, dad."

"You never asked," Mr. Dane quipped, laughing. He smiled at Frank in the rear view mirror. "The truth is, we talked about driving down to Florida for our honeymoon, but we only had a week before I had to get back to work. I was still with the Gulfport Police Department then."

"Before you became a famous private detective, you mean," Joe put in, also grinning. "And could write your own ticket."

"Well, hardly that, " Mr. Dane returned, playing down his fame. He had always felt that luck had played a large part in his solving so many important cases, with skill taking a back seat. "But I wasn't my own boss then like I am now. Old Clarence Beckworth was in charge in those days, and he didn't much believe in vacation time. But, to answer your question, yes, I have been to Land's End before."

"So you know what this place is like, then," Frank observed. "You'll know what to look for, huh?"

Mr. Dane smiled. "A lot can change in a place in nearly eighteen years, Frank. But at least I probably know where everything is, yes."

They were coming to a series of sharp curves, and Mr. Dane slowed the car as he headed into the first of them. Beside the road was a sharp drop off, at least fifty feet, to the rock-strewn coastline below. As they entered the curve they passed a small rest area, with room for a couple of cars, and holding a picnic table and a green trash bin. A large, black touring car was standing there, with several men seated inside. As they passed by it pulled out behind them, and followed at a leisurely pace.

Mr. Dane watched the car a moment in his rear-view mirror before letting his eyes go back to the road. "I was starting to think that no one was about this morning except for us."

"A lot of people take that new interstate when going north now, dad," Frank pointed out. "Our school chum, Charlie Casey, said his dad drives a truck up this way to make deliveries all the time, and that he said traffic has really dropped off on the Beach Road since the new highway opened."

"So it would seem. Well, one good result of that is that we are making good time."

"It's about a three hour drive, isn't it dad?" Joe asked. "We should be there before noon."

But Mr. Dane was not listening. He was watching the other car in the rear-view mirror again, and frowning. "That fellow is coming up on us pretty fast. Certainly, he can't mean to pass us on these curves!"

The boys turned as one to gaze out of the sedan's back window. Behind them, the big touring car was moving up fast. Frank squinted at it, and could just make out the driver, gazing at them intently over the steering wheel. With a shock, Frank realized that the man had a bandana tied around the lower portion of his face!

"Dad, they're masked! I think they mean to ram us!"

He'd no sooner said that then the big car was upon them. It smashed into the back of the sedan, and the car leapt forward in response. Mr. Dane smashed on the accelerator, shifted up a gear, and let the sedan start to move.

"We can't take these curves too fast or we'll be off the road!"

The touring car shifted to the oncoming lane and began to move up beside them. It was obviously a powerful car, maybe even more so than Mr. Dane's sedan, which was no slouch in its own right.

"Dad! The curve!" Joe hollered, clutching at the dashboard for support as the car swung into the tight bend in the road. Beside them, the drop off loomed near, separated from them by only a wooden rail, which Joe just knew would not hold back the weight of the heavy sedan should it strike it.

"I see it! Hold on!"

The sedan's tires screamed as the car bulleted into the curve, with the touring car almost directly alongside now. Frank looked over, and could see four men in the car, all wearing caps on their heads and bandanas over the lower halves of their faces. They stared at the Dane's car, and were obviously urging their own driver onward.

The touring car swung closer, and the two cars swiped sides with a tremendous crunch! The sedan struck the rail above the drop off, scraped along it for fifty feet as Mr. Dane wrestled with the wheel, and then backed off as he got control again. The touring car bounced away, then started back towards them, and this time the man closest to them in the rear stuck his arm out of the window and pointed something at them.

"He's got a gun, dad!" Frank yelled, crouching down in his seat.

Mr. Dane's face went grim, and he nodded. "Hold on, boys!"

He whipped the wheel over and the sedan careened sideways against the touring car. The eyes of the man with the gun in the back widened in surprise, and as the two cars hit he whipped his arm back reflexively and lost his grip on the handgun, which spiraled into the air and came through the back window of the sedan! Frank saw it coming and ducked just as the heavy weapon hit the inside of the sedan's rear door frame and dropped to the floor at his feet.

The touring car swerved away, and then immediately came back at them just as they entered the sharpest point in the curve. Mr. Dane stood on the brake pedal and downshifted viciously, and the sedan lost its forward momentum so suddenly that the boys slid forward right off the seats. The touring car passed them as it came over, and the rear of the car clipped the front fender of the sedan.  With a horrendous shriek from its tires, the large car turned sideways in the road, and the sedan plowed into it!

Mr. Dane yelled and hit the brakes again just as the two cars collided. The other car yawed horribly as the driver fought for control; and then the touring car was through the wooden rail and sailing into the empty air above the beach far below.

The sedan gave a violent lurch, swayed terrifyingly from side to side, straightened, and shrieked to a stop in the middle of the road, straddling the yellow line.

From behind them came the sound of a tremendous impact, and then a cloud of smoke puffed upwards from the beach below.

Mr. Dane sat back in his seat, breathing hard. "That was close!"

Joe reached over and clasped his father's arm, his eyes shining. "Was that ever some driving, dad! You were wonderful!"

Mr. Dane blew out a sharp breath. "Instinct, son. Pure instinct." He turned his head to look into the back of the car. "Anyone hurt?"

"I don't think so," Frank replied, sliding back up onto the seat. "Chip? You okay? Tony?"

The other two boys had regained their seats next to him now, and were shaking their heads and rubbing at their arms.

"I'm okay," Chip said. "Might get a bruise on this elbow, but that's nothing compared to what those guys just got!"

"Yeah," Tony said, craning his neck to the side to see the column of black smoke rising next to the road. "Those guys took a real fall!"

"Let's go and see," Mr. Dane offered.

The sedan had stalled when it had come to a stop. Mr. Dane managed to get the motor running again, eased the car into gear, and pulled it forward onto the shoulder next to the rail. He shut off the motor, and they all piled out the driver's side doors.

Tony was the first one to the rail. "Ohmigosh! Look at that!"

Far below, the touring car lay upside down in several feet of water. Only the wheels and the bottom of the car showed. There were no bodies visible, no indication that anyone had managed to get out of the car after its fall.

Mr. Dane examined the cliff beyond the railing and shook his head. "There's no climbing down that. I guess we'll have to find a phone and call the authorities."

"I don't know," Joe said, eying the drop off. "I'll bet I could get down that cliff."

"No." Mr. Dane shook his head emphatically. "It's possible that four men just lost their lives. I won't add another casualty to this incident. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," Joe said, abashed at the grimness of his father's tone. "Just a thought."

Mr. Dane smiled, reached out and rubbed Joe's shoulder. "I don't want anything to happen to you, got me?"

Joe grinned. "Okay."

They heard the sound of an engine, and turned as a pickup truck coming from the direction they had been going ground to a halt near them. A man slid out of the driver's seat and approached them while a woman looked on from the passenger seat.

"You folks in trouble? Need a hand with your car?"

The man looked like a farmer, with sun-browned, wrinkled features visible beneath the brim of his hat. He wore coveralls and heavy boots, and a concerned look on his face.

Mr. Dane shook his head. "There's been an accident. A car went over the cliff."

The farmer gasped, and came to the rail to look down. "Oh, those poor souls! That's quite a drop - I can't see anyone making it out of that plunge alive."

"Is there a phone anywhere close by?" Mr. Dane asked.

"Yessir. Back the way we came, after the curves.  There's a little diner off to the side. They have a phone booth right out front."

Mr. Dane nodded. "We don't think it's safe to climb down. We'll go on and make the call to the authorities. If you'd like to stay on the scene, it might help the police and ambulance find the spot."

"We're in no hurry," the man said, nodding. "Just out to the diner for a late breakfast. Me and the missus would be happy to wait here." He gazed down again at the upside down touring car, and shook his head. "Those poor souls."

Mr. Dane and the boys got back into their car, and Mr. Dane headed off towards the diner.

"Poor souls, indeed!" Frank fumed. "That could have been us down there!"

Mr. Dane shook his head. "I can't figure out how they knew we were heading up to Land's End. No one knew but John Lewis, and your mother and Aunt Gerta. None of them would say anything to anyone else." Mr. Dane looked over at Joe. "And I know you boys wouldn't tell anyone."

Frank and Chip looked at each other, and Chip cleared his throat. "Um...Mr. Dane? I think it might be my fault."

  The detective stared at him in the rear view mirror. "Your fault? How, Chip?"

Chip looked morose. "When we stopped at the gas station to put some ethyl in The Princess yesterday, we were talking to the attendant, Bill Peale, and we mentioned our trip today. I might have said too much."

Mr. Dane shook his head. "I know Bill. He wouldn't have repeated anything you said."

Chip nodded. "No. But there was another car on the other side of the island. A dark green roadster, with two men in it. I let slip that we knew there were some strange things going on at Land's End. I'm pretty sure those men could hear what I was saying." He grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was just so excited about the trip."

"It wasn't much, Dad," Frank put in. "Those guys would have had to put two and two together pretty fast to infer that you were going up to Land's End to investigate things."

"Hmm. I suppose it could have been them." But Mr. Dane smiled in the mirror at the anguished boy. "That's hardly a deliberate breech of security, Chip. And we don't know that those two men were involved. I wouldn't get upset about it, okay?"

"Yes, sir. But I'll sure keep my mouth shut in the future."

Frank couldn't stand the doleful look on his friend's face. He put an arm around Chip's shoulders and gave him a fond squeeze. "Don't let it bug you, Chip. Happens to the best of us."

Chip sighed. "Won't happen to me again!"

They reached the diner, and Mr. Dane pulled the sedan up by the pay phone and got out. The boys watched as he went into the booth and closed the door, dropped his nickel in the slot, and waited while the operator connected him.

"Those guys meant business," Joe said, from the front seat. "I'm glad no one was hurt." He smiled at Tony then, and Tony smiled back.

"It was pretty exciting, actually," his friend admitted. "Is this what it's like for you guys when you're on a case?"

Frank laughed. "Not always, but sometimes it gets a little dangerous. I have to admit that I've never had someone try to run me off a cliff before."

"I thought that guy in back was going to shoot us," Joe added. "That doesn't happen every day, either."

"Oh...hey!" Joe's comment had triggered a memory in Frank's mind. He bent down, searching the floorboards beneath his feet, while Chip and Tony watched with interest.

"What's up?" Joe asked, turning so that he could look over the seat.

"The gun!" Frank said. "When the two cars collided, the gun flew out of that thug's hand and came in my window. It nearly hit me in the head!"

"Seriously?" Joe called, excitement apparent in his voice. "It's here, in the car?"

"Must have gone under the seat," Frank said, probing under the back of the front seat. "Wait!" he suddenly straightened and looked at Chip. "Have you got a handkerchief?"

Chip nodded, reached into his pocket, and handed over a folded white square.

Frank shook it open and  draped it over his fingers. Then he bent again, dug around under the front seat, and slowly sat up again. Clutched inside the handkerchief was the thug's weapon!

"What's that?" Mr. Dane said, coming back to the driver's door.

"That gunman's pistol," Frank said, grinning. "He lost it when the two cars hit. It came in the window and landed on the floor."

Mr. Dane gave a little laugh, looking pleased. "And you remembered not to touch it! Good work, Frank! I just talked to John Lewis, and he's sending a radio cruiser out to the diner here to meet with us and investigate the attempt on our lives. We can have them take the gun back and dust it, and check any prints they find against the criminal records."

Mr. Dane extended a hand and took the gun, careful to keep the material of the handkerchief between his fingertips and the oiled metal.

"Weird looking thing," Joe commented, as his father held the gun up to examine it. "I don't think I've ever seen a gun like it. You know what it is, dad?"

The elder Dane nodded, his eyes upon the pistol. "Yes. A Parabellum, nine millimeter. 1908 model." His eyes came up to meet those of the boys. "A German Luger."

The boys gasped. "Really? That's not a common weapon the average thug would carry, is it, dad?" Frank asked.

Mr. Dane shook his head. "They're not common, no. But I saw a number of them during the war, and quite a few G.I.'s brought one home as a souvenir. So they aren't exactly rare here, either."

The boys stared at the gun, wondering about its history.

Mr. Dane nodded. "One more mystery in this case."

Joe grinned at Frank, and then at his father. "Is it officially a case now?"

Mr. Dane looked grim. "Someone just tried to kill me, my sons, and two of their friends. It's a case now, boys. An I intend to get to the bottom of it!"

To be continued...

Posted: 02/22/19