Three to Conquer (23 page)

             
"People vary that way; so do dogs. I can detect it, all right, and I know what it is."

             
"What is it?"

             
"Eucalyptus."
-

             
"Well, that's mighty useful," commented Norris sardonically. "Now all we need do is track down somebody stinking of eucalyptus."

             
"You could do worse," Harper opined. "Three smellers in a row, and in one day, means something. Like tobacco. If I'm in a deep forest and smell burning tobacco, I know a man is somewhere near."

             
"So
—
?"

             
"Maybe somebody
likes
eucalyptus."

             
Norris frowned at him and reached for the telephone, handling it delicately so as not to spoil any latent prints. He dialled, spoke to someone.

             
"This is no more than a wild guess, but you'd better note it: check all suspects for an odor of eucalyptus." He racked the instrument and admitted, "It would sound silly to me if this entire business wasn't so crazy.

             
"Not being a full-time Sherlock," said Harper, "I tend to miss things that are obvious to you, but spot others that you may overlook. For instance, what's the scientific conclusion to be drawn from a liking for eucalyptus?"

             
"I don't know."

             
"That elsewhere the natural prey is vegetarian and feeds on aromatic shrubs, its favorite food being something akin to eucalyptus. So here the host feels a need, bo
rn
of centuries of conditioning. In other words, they've found a local drug that reminds them of home."

             
"What the devil are you talking about?"

             
"So
rr
y; I forgot you've been told only part of the story," said Harper. "You've got to know the whole of it to guess the way I'm guessing."

             
"Eucalyptus isn't a drug," declared Norris, baffled.

             
"Not to us, it isn't. God knows what it is to some other guppies."

             
"Look, did you sniff the stuff when you shot that girl?"

             
"No; I didn't go near enough, or hang around long enough. Her case being the first, I was in a jam, had to get out fast,
had
no time or inclination to look for what I suspect only now."

             
"Humph!" Norris thought a bit, resorted to the phone again, called the Baum house and spoke to Rausch. "We're out of luck here. The bird had flown." He listened to some comment from the other end,
then
continued, "Harper smells eucalyptus, says the Baums smelled of it, too. I didn't notice it. Did you?"

             
Rausch said, "Yes. But I thought nothing of it."

             
Cutting off, Norris observed, "I should have my nasal passages irrigated."

             
"This is important," Harper pointed out. "Ambrose and Philip carried the odor. Whoever was here
reeked
of it. Maybe they stumbled across the stuff with the same glee as a bunch of hopheads discovering a field of Mexican hemp.
If so, they'll pass the news on."

             
"Well?"

             
"The habit will hand humanity a small advantage. If you can't tell what's going on in a suspect's mind, you can at least smell his breath."

             
Norris lapsed into silence as the fingerprint man arrived and set about his business. The newcomer raised prints all over the place, most of them undoubtedly being those of the Baum brothers. When he had finished, Norris ordered, "Get them checked as quickly as possible and let me know the results." He turned to Harper. "Momentarily we're stalled. Let's get back to your office."

             
Morning brought news. Norris poked a head into the office and beckoned Harper away from Moira's hearing.

             
"Things are beginning to break, he announced
. "
There were two calls to the Baum house during the night. The caller hung up immediately when Rausch answered. Both calls emanated from public booths. That means the Baums' contact man is still in town."

             
"Assuming there's only one of them," said Harper. "For all we know, there may be a dozen."

             
"Perhaps.
Anyway, we got identifiable prints out of that warehouse office. They are McDonald's."

             
"Ah! So
he
was waiting there?"

             
Norris nodded. "We missed him by minutes. Further, we've found that he was with the Baums in a hotel one evening. He left with them in Ambrose's car and hasn't been seen since. Two waiters and a bartender have identified his picture."

             
"When did he pick them up?"

             
"Six days ago."

             
"Just the time we estimated," Harper remarked.

             
"We're searching the locality for him right now," Norris continued. "If he's still here today, we'll find him.
"

             
"
That may prove more difficult than you expect.
"

             
"
Why?"

             
"He doesn't have to stay at a hotel or rooming house, so you'll gain little making the rounds of those. He doesn't have to rent an apartment. He doesn't have to sleep out in the open."

             
"Then what does he do?"

             
"He lives in a private house, as one of the family—having
made
himself one of the
family
." Harper eyed him skeptically. "How are you .going to search several thousand private homes?"

             
"We won't try. There are quicker ways of picking up leads.
"

             
"
How?"

             
"Every street has its gossip, its incurable snoop. We have enough photos of McDonald to check with every busybody for miles around. What's more, he can't operate while sitting in a back room, behind drawn curtains; he has to emerge sometime. If it was he who called Rausch, he went outside his hole-up to do it. He took a risk and was mighty lucky not to be recognized."

             
"How about sounding the drugstores for abnormal sales of eucalyptus?"

             
"We've thought of that. Four agents are on the job."

             
The phone shrilled in the office. Moira picked it up, called to them, "It's for Mr. Norris or Mr. Rausch."

             
Norris went inside, listened for a while, came back and said to Harper, "That was Jameson."

             
"Anything new?"

             
"Yes. Langley's dead."

             
"So they caught up with him?"

             
"He was spotted in a stolen car at dawn. Two men were with him, Waggoner and a fellow now known to be a certain Joe Scaife. Langley and Scaife were shot dead; Waggoner used his last bullet on himself. That was about an hour ago. The big problem now is what to tell the newshawks."

             
"This looks bad to me," Harper admitted.

             
"Bad isn't the word for it," said Norris seriously. "Waggoner's deed speaks for itself. If these reactions are any criterion, we're up against a crazy crowd who'd far rather be killed than caught."

             
"The Baums behaved the same way," Harper reminded.
"The death-before-dishonor touch."

             
"It's inhuman."

             
"Of course it is
!
Get it into your head that we are fighting against mentalities with standards far different from yours and mine. To them, capture may seem a fate considerably worse than death."

             
"Our orders are to take them alive at all costs.
"

             
"
Easier said than done."

             
"Well, you're supposed to be an ace in the pack," Norris pointed out.
"How would you go about it if you happened to find one of them—McDonald, for instance?"

             
Harper mulled the problem, then said, "The all-important thing would be not to let him suspect that he'd been tagged. I don't see anything else for it but to sit around in patience and wait for a chance to knock him unconscious, or pin him down before he can make a move."

             
"That comes well from the man who got Ambrose Baum on the run."

             
"I had to make him react to find out who was which. McDonald's different. We know what he looks like. We don't have to make him betray himself; his face is sufficient giveaway."

             
"True enough."

             
"If it comes to that," Harper went on, "and I could organize things my own way—which, unfortunately, I can't—I wouldn't try to take McDonald alive or dead. I'd let him run free."

             
"Why?"

             
"So that he could lead me to others.
"

             
"
He wouldn't play sucker for long," Norris scoffed. "If you think you could exploit him for months, you're mistaken.
"

             
"
For what reason?"

             
"Because there's no da
rn
ed use in him leading you to others unless you profit by it.
Therefore you'd have to grab them, sooner or later. And directly his contacts start disappearing he
'
ll take alarm, scoot out of sight or blow his head off." Sniffing his disdain of amateur tactics, Norris finished, "If we can capture him unscratched and intact, he'll do all the leading we require, and whether he likes it or not. We
'
ll see to that!"

             
"Have it your own way." Harper returned to his office, saying, "I'm going to carry on with business; otherwise it will never get done." He squatted behind his desk, spent half an hour - considering a large bluprint,
then
gave ten .minutes to the long letter that had come with it. "All right,
Moira,
wet your pencil and be careful with the big words. I
—"

             
Norris looked in and commanded, "Put your hat on; you're wanted again."

             
"Oh, not now, surely?" growled Harper. "I've important work to do."