The Scorpia Menace (14 page)

"It's beyond me for the moment, Guran," said The Phantom. "But if Diana thought researching the Scorpia was important, then there must be something in it."

He sank his square chin into one massive hand as he went to sit at the lectern again.

"The Scorpia apparently died out in the late nineteenth century. What interest could they conceivably hold for Diana?"

Guran shook his head and transferred his weight from one foot to the other.

"Could Diana in her innocent research have stumbled onto something?" The Phantom went on.

"It's possible," Guran said, his brown eyes searching The Phantom's face with compassion.

"Anything is possible, Guran," said The Phantom, rising from the lectern and replacing the volumes on the shelves.

"I must leave soon. Thank you for your companionship during a difficult period."

The pygmy chief smiled with pleasure. The smile transformed his whole face.

"The Great One has thought of something?" he said.

The Phantom stood upright, the shadow of his great body enormous on the wall, reflected there by the light of the flickering torches.

"Diana is missing," he said decisively. "Missing only. There is a wealth of difference between being missing and dead."

He turned back to Guran, decisive and dynamic now.

"What time will the helicopter arrive?"

"Colonel Weeks said the machine will be landing near here within an hour. The pilot will take you wherever you want to go."

"Good," said The Phantom.

He folded a lightweight raincoat across his massive arm and picked up a dark brown grip from the ledge.

"Let's go then."

The two men walked to the entrance of Skull Cave, Devil bounding alongside. As they came to the entrance, The Phantom donned a great pair of curved, dark glasses which effectively shielded the upper half of his face. He pulled his white, panama hat down over his forehead.

"I rely on you to look after things here."

"All shall be as you wish, O Ghost Who Walks," said Guran solemnly.

The two men shook hands as the harsh beat of a helicopter motor sounded from the west and its shadow swept hugely across the jungle's carpet of green.

14

MID-AIR MEETING

David Palmer frowned as the phone shrilled in the drawing room of his Westchester home. His face was beginning to show the strain of the last hours. He picked up the receiver irritably, and then his expression changed. The lines of worry seemed to smooth away a little as he listened to the faint voice of the long-distance operator.

"Mawitaan," he whispered to himself. "Then Kit Walker knows. He hasn't forgotten Diana."

He spoke into the mouthpiece, excitement blurring the edges of his voice.

"Yes, certainly. Of course, I'll hang on!"

Static and roaring noises and then, incredibly clear, that strong, calm voice.

"Mr. Palmer, is it true that Diana's been lost at sea?"

David Palmer took a firm grip on the receiver.

"I'm afraid so, Kit," he said. "Divers have found the plane. There was no trace of Diana."

There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.

"No trace at all?" said The Phantom slowly. "Do you think it was an accident?"

"Maybe," said David Palmer. "There's no proof at all that it was anything else. It could have been sabotage. Diana was threatened the night before she disappeared."

He heard the faint intake of breath at the other end of the line.

"Threatened? What do you mean, Mr. Palmer?"

Diana's uncle hastened to explain.

"Something called the Scorpia," he said. "It was an ancient pirate band. She was doing research for her history term paper."

"Yes, I heard about that," The Phantom said. "But I didn't know that she'd been threatened. You called the police?"

"We went to them at once," David Palmer went on. "But of course we had nothing to go on. Diana's mother's taken n very badly. She's upstairs resting at the moment or she would have spoken to you herself."

"It's all right," The Phantom said gently. "I wouldn't want to bother her at a time like this anyway."

he paused again.

"I'm coming over right away, Mr. Palmer," The Phantom said. "I'll get to the bottom of this myself."

"We'll be glad for your help," David Palmer replied with relief. "What are your arrangements, so we'll be able to meet you?"

The Phantom gave him the plane schedules and then hung up.

Later that day, as the big jet lifted from Mawitaan International Airport, its shadow printed huge on the baking ground, The Phantom thought over the many possibilities. None of them made sense, but he felt that there had to be an explanation behind her disappearance. Somehow, he could not believe that the beautiful, dark-haired girl he had Known and loved could be dead. He felt that there had to 110 an explanation behind her disappearance, that the end to their story was not an exploding aircraft sinking beneath the surface of the sea.

"The key is the Scorpia," he told himself, accepting the day the air hostess placed in front of him as the big Pan- Am jet whined effortlessly forward, annihilating the miles between him and the U.S.A. Outwardly, he was an ordinary passenger, but inside, his analytical mind was unemotionally ■ aleulating endless schemes.

If Diana had found out something about the Scorpia, they might have wanted her out of the way. But would they knowingly destroy such a famous and distinguished person as Diana Palmer? Grimly, The Phantom had to admit to himself that they might, if the stakes were high enough. Such speculations could only end in complete mental fatigue before the end of his flight, so The Phantom outwardly calm, inwardly tense, forced himself to appear normal.

He smilingly ate his meal and drank the coffee and then later, read
The New York Times
with such a concentrated look on his face that his fellow passengers never even suspected that his eyes absorbed nothing of what was printed on the paper.

He saw nothing, either, of the light aircraft which passed beneath the jet at a dangerously close distance. Up ahead in the Pan-Am cabin, the pilot gave a sharp exclamation as he saw the shadow flash across his vision and then disappear.

"Hell, Arnold," he said to the second pilot, a short, stocky New Yorker. "That wasn't on the plot. See if you can get Kennedy and give someone a roasting."

In the first-class passenger cabin, the stewardess had momentarily turned white at the near-miss. She bit her lip and then relaxed her mouth in a smile.

"Unusual to pass a plane so closely at sea, Sir," she said to the huge man in dark glasses who sat at a window seat

The Phantom stirred.

"I'm afraid I didn't see it," he said.

"It was going east," said the stewardess. "Would you care to remove your hat, Sir."

"No thank you," said The Phantom.

He turned back toward the window as the plane whined on toward the west.

Diana Palmer gave a slight exclamation as the giant shadow of the jet sliced the air above them. The pilot swore and instinctively jerked the controls, though the danger was already past. Diana craned to rearward, but the big jet was now miles away.

"Our fault," said the big co-pilot with a grin. He had already done a stint at the controls and was piloting her again.

"One of the hazards of our type of operation."

Diana sank back on her seat again.

"Can't you tell me what this is all about now?" she said. "After all, you're safe. You're a long way from the States."

The big man's grin broke out below the thick mustache once again.

"All right, Miss Palmer," he said. "As you say, it's safe now. A woman using your name rented a plane. Then she radioed she was falling into the sea."

Diana gasped. Her mind had not yet grasped the implications.

"Actually, she parachuted down and we picked her up. As far as the world knows, Diana Palmer was on the plane. You are missing—almost certaintly dead, for the general public."

Diana gasped, "How could you do such a thing?"

"You ignored our warning," the co-pilot said calmly,

"You are the Scorpia!" said Diana indignantly.

The big man shifted on his seat and shrugged.

"A small part of it, yes."

"So, my hunch was right," Diana went on. "After four hundred years, the Scorpia band of pirates still exists?"

"In a somewhat changed form, but basically, you are l orrect," the big man replied.

Diana looked puzzled.

"But what do you expect to gain by kidnapping me in this way?"

The co-pilot turned a blank face to her.

"Ah, that's another story, Miss. Like, I said, we're small

cogs."

He tapped his forehead.

"We don't know what goes on up there. That's where the brains are. Your guess is as good as mine as to why you're here. But you'll find out soon enough."

"What do you mean?" Diana asked.

"We'll be landing in five minutes," the pilot said unemotionally, banking the plane.

blue sea and then jungle-clad, rocky island slid by beneath the wing-tip.

"We're almost there," said the co-pilot.

He picked up the pistol again and held it languidly in his right hand.

"Welcome to Scorpia, Miss Palmer."

"I may be dense, but I don't understand," said Diana, staring at him.

"This is the island of Scorpia, where the Scorpia organization has its Headquarters. You were curious about Scorpia, Miss Palmer."

He pointed downward. Diana saw a strange, turreted castle rearing from the great rock.

"You are looking at the Center!" the co-pilot said.

15

THE PHANTOM INVESTIGATES

David Palmer's face was somber with grief but it brightened as he spotted the huge form of "Kit Walker" coming down the staircase of the gleaming Pan-Am Jet. The Phantom's great fist engulfed his own as the two men shook hands. They were silent for a moment, the raucous noise of Customs' shed unnoticed. David Palmer had a special official dispensation to be in Customs. He rapidly explained what had happened to The Phantom as his baggage was being examined.

When they left the reception area, he said, "You came quickly. Thank God for that."

"As fast as I could, Dave," The Phantom replied. "How is Diana's mother?"

David Palmer frowned, taking The Phantom's suitcase as they threaded their way through the people in Customs.

"She's still in shock, I'm afraid. I can't believe it myself. I'm glad you came."

"I want to hear the whole story," The Phantom said as they reached the departure area.

"The car's over here," said David Palmer, leading the way to the parking lot.

"We don't know much," said David as they threade their way to aisle 53.

"Never mind, Dave," said The Phantom. "Give me the facts in your own words, every detail. Any clue could be important."

Diana's uncle shot him an appraising look as they reached his car. He opened the door for The Phantom, put his bag on the back seat and then slid behind the wheel. As they joined the lines of cars leaving the airport area, he told his companion everything he knew. The Phantom listened in silence, his eyes invisible behind his sunglasses, nodding liis head from time to time as Palmer emphasized a point.