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Show CARiBBE AN-fW ' K CONSPIRACY Sill k BRENDA CONRAD fT W THE STORY SO FAR: Anno Heywood, ull(ul daughter ot a wealthy New rH newsp.tF" publisher, goes on an sitnment to Puerto Rico where Pete ffilcox reporter on her father's pa-r pa-r 1' stationed as a V. S. Army lntclll- 'c6 officer. On the boat she meets '' unl Puerto Rlcan, Mlcuol Valera, ' so engineer named Richard Tans-j Tans-j ot whom she Is Immediately suspl- 101 U P1,e ' ,act that ne uke typical tourist. She docs not know it tie li, ta Gnnn "6nt or. Led u destroy Puerto Rico's water oplj. Pcte meet' 11,8 boat' but ao!I t tell Anne that he has reason to sus- ,0C( lanssif. Later Anne discovers that Jlr befi nav" been ,carcntd- CHAPTER IV Anne put ber key in the lock and (pened the door. There was a tun-ay tun-ay taste In her mouth, as if she'd bit into a sweet orange and found It was a sour one. "I'm glad Pete's in San Juan after aft-er all," she thought, with a sudden twinge of conscience. "I wonder what he's doing?" Pete Wilcox, if she'd known it, was at that moment two floors below be-low her in the Granada bar. He'd looked down into the patio. Don Diego Gongaro and Taussig were still sitting there, their cigars still quite long. That came as a little shock to her. What had seemed an eternity could have been only two or three minutes at the most. Then she started. Miguel Valera was coming through the arcade, alone. Graciela must have been 6ent home, or something. He strolled across the patio, drew up a chair and sat down with the other two. Anne stood watching them, her heart rising. Whatever it was, if Miguel was on her side . . . and then she caught her breath sharply. He had said something to Taussig, who turned quickly and looked up at her window. Don Diego turned slowly in his chair and looked up. Miguel was telling them. And she hadn't thought of that. She hadn't really thought about that at all, but In some way she had just taken it for granted he wouldn't tell. "I wonder where Pete is," she thought miserably. It was the same old pattern. It always came back when she was in trouble. If only she knew where to find Pete! course, that no man wants a woman wom-an who " He broke off abruptly. Pete Wilcox, Wil-cox, trying to look casual and relaxed re-laxed in a wrought-iron chair that was not designed for either, was I listening intently. There was something some-thing in Diego Gongaro's tone that implied a meaning underlying the superficial conversational one. He was watching the center arch, and Pete, glancing around, saw Miguel Valera come out into the patio and pull up a chair beside them. "I was just saying how intelligent intelli-gent your friend Miss Heywood is, Miguel," his uncle remarked easily. Miguel shrugged. . "I don't know about that. She's very charming, certainly." There was no reason to get hot under the collar, Pete told himself. Maybe Anne was deliberately concealing con-cealing her intelligence. Sometimes she did it without deliberation. Furthermore, Fur-thermore, there was nothing offensive offen-sive in preferring a girl's charm to her intelligence. Latins weren't the only ones who did that. "What have you done with the young ladies, by the way?" Taussig inquired. watcneo, " -1,- , ,een her gay and charming and radiant ra-diant as a sunbeam, talking to three men. The other girl Pete didn t even iee. He watched Anne and Miguel leave the dining room. 'They're going to dance," he thought. He looked at himself in the minor over the bar. The faint peen cast of his face couldn't all be mildew, he thought with a twist-.i twist-.i i "Talc it easv. Captain She looked down into the patio again. Mr. Taussig was getting up. Anne's eyes moved across the grass. A man was sitting alone at the table in the corner, where Don Diego had sat reading his paper that morning. She looked away, and then looked back sharply. It was Pete. Pete went through the lobby and started across the gallery under "My cousin is with some of my other cousins. Miss Heywood has had a tiring day. She's gone upstairs." up-stairs." "I hope you'll remember your suggestion sug-gestion about the sugar plantation. I'm sure Miss Heywood would en-Joy en-Joy it too." "I'm sure we can arrange it, Mr. Taussig. I'll speak to my father. Are you engaged tomorrow?" "I'm afraid I am," Taussig said. "The Army is taking me on a tour Wilcox," he said to himself. Anne put her hand out to put out the light, and changed her mind. The room glowed with a faint silver phosphorescence from the rising moon. It was the moon she and Miguel had watched growing rounder round-er end whiter the last three nights, ihe thought with a little ache inside tier. She shook that off impatietly, crossed the room and looked down Into the patio. Don Diego Gongaro had Just finished lighting Richard Taussig's cigar and was lighting his own. Then Anne's heart beat a little lit-tle more quickly. She glanced back at the door, her cheeks flushed a little. The idea that popped into her mind, she knew, was one that should never have occurred to a well-brought-up young woman. She dismissed dis-missed it sharply. Her hand shook a little as she opened the door. There was a light over the transom in Room 108. It was not the ceiling light; it was not of the island, stopping at Borinquen Field for lunch." Mr. Taussig bowed to both of them. "Good night," he said. Miguel Valera turned to his uncle and spoke again rapidly. Pete caught Graciela's name and "casa," and decided that Miguel was telling his uncle to take the girl home. At any rate Gongaro left. Miguel and Pete were alone in the patio, and the light in Anne's window was still on. Pete, watching with a kind of forlorn hope for one brief glimpse of even her shadow on the screen, trying try-ing to make up his mind not to go and call her up just to hear her voice and know she was there, started start-ed to get up. As he did Valera rose and came across the grass. "Good evening, Captain," he said. "If you aren't in. a hurry I wonder if you'd join me in a nightcap?" For a moment the two of them stood facing each other, the Latin tall and slender with gray eyes and black hair, the Saxon tall, lean and bright enough. It must be the one on the table or beside the bed. She started trying to remember whether it had been there before. She hadn't looked, she had been so intent on the conflict in her mind as she went into her own room. It might be the maid, she thought, listening. Or Mr. Taussig might have left his light on. She crossed the passage after a moment and tapped lightly on the door. There was no answer and no sound from inside. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She had either to do it or not to do it, she told herself but she had to be quick about it in any case. She put her key in the lock and turned the knob. Mr. Taussig had ,-- , J Ol it rangy with hazel eyes and sun-bleached, sun-bleached, tow-colored hair, each taking the other's measure. "Thanks," Pete said. "Glad to." They sat down. Miguel called the waiter. "You're at Headquarters, I understand," under-stand," he said when he had ordered. or-dered. "That's right," Pete said. "And you?" T was ordered to Buchanan. But my orders were cancelled. I was ready, and thought I might as well come home. It was too cold in New York for me anyway. I'd been up for several months on business for my father." "You're a lawyer, aren't you? it crtunHpH as if beine The door opened, she was in the hall again. the portico. The juke box blared from the bar behind him, and with the orchestra out on the terrace a i-ei-e oaivcu. . - a lawyer in a time Uke this was a little like being a snake in the grass, which was not what he had meant. Miguel laughed. "A sort of lawyer. You have to know law to manage a sugar Central, Cen-tral, these days of government regulation. regu-lation. I don't practice." "Politics?" "Politics is in Latin blood," Miguel Mig-uel answered. "Red corpuscles, white corpuscles and politics. It means everything down here." "What about your father? Has he been in political office?" "No My father isn't a United States' citizen. After the American occupation we were given the choice of accepting citizenship or remain-ing remain-ing Spanish. My father chose to retain his own citizenship. A good many people did. What do you call them diehards, isn't it?" "Are they the ones who don't like the United States?" Pete asked. Valera hesitated. "Would they like to see Spam back?" Miguel Valera shrugged. I sup-nose sup-nose there's the dream of seeing the scarlet and gold of Spain flying from El Morro. It's natural enough for the people who are predominantly Soanish. If the United States were conquered, you would just wait the chance to kick your conquerors out. "And what about the Nationalists'" National-ists'" Pete asked. wailing tenor was singing "Perfldia ... "I found you, the love of my life, in somebody else's arms . . ." He tossed the cigarette he'd Just lighted into a palm tub and turned back again. His orders were to lay off and in the Army orders were orders. In the newspaper business an editor might not run a story, but he never tried to keep you from getting get-ting it if you could. And just now Pete's training and instinct the old nose-for-news sort of thing-told him not to leave, to go back and the hell with G 2. He went through the lobby out into the patio. The ocean pounding on the reef and breaking again or. the rocks just across -the balustrade softened the strident scream of music mu-sic from the bar. The place was empty except for Taussig and Di-o Di-o Gongaro sitting by the fountain smoking their cigars. They stopped tS for an instant when he came ouTald started again, obviously on ano'toer subject. They couldn't have been talking about the beauty of Puerto Klco all that time he K. Im He sat down at a table m Corner "and ordered a Scotch and a, , -The window of Anne's room qui locKeo ms auur. cue uycutu slowly, glancing back behind her down the hall, and slipped inside. She had taken two quick steps along the passage between the wall and ; the closet when the dimmed light went off, leaving her in sudden absolute ab-solute darkness. Somebody inside the room moved with swift catlike i silence. She stood rooted to the toor in terror, her voice frozen in her throat. A man's hand strong as , steel closed over her mouth, stifling the cry that sprang to her lips. ; She was whirled around and moved back to the door so quickly and easily that she didn't have time to I struggle. The door opened, she was In the hall again; the door closed. She ran, breathless with terror, cross the passage into her own room and stood gripping the doorknob, door-knob, her heart beating violently. Very slowly then she raised her hand to her face and touched it J with trembling fingers. In the dim light above the open transom she had caught one flashing glimpse of the man in the room. It was Miguel Mig-uel Valera.- A chill stabbing awareness that d she was for the first time in her life ! UP against stark reality that thrust i,j friendship aside, as Miguel had done t with her, made her hand relax slow-j slow-j from her doorknob. She reached ol Ut t0 !witch on the light, changed uT n mind and stood there listening (i- warily. He was coming out. She refinery workers at the eastern terminus of the Big Inch pipeline. They wanted to introduce the show with the gurgling of gasoline flowing from a filling station pump, and had a real one set up on the stage. But they finally used an ordinary egg beater and a hand bell. Don't be surprised If Charlie McCarthy's Mc-Carthy's "rather elderly, old-maid relative," Ophelia, becomes a regular regu-lar member of that airshow gang. Maybe you heard her when she made her coast-to-coast radio debut recently re-cently on the new RCA "What's New" program. Listeners loved her, and Edgar Bergen thinks she might make a good permanent companion for Charlie and Mortimer Snerd. Frances and Richard Lockridge, authors of "Mr. and Mrs. North," are probably unique among novelists novel-ists whose works have been adapted for radio. Usually authors insist on editing all scripts, often to the dismay of script writers, producers and actors. The Lockridges have been Inside the studio just once since the series started on NBC. They listen lis-ten to the program at home. After eight years as a CBS staff conductor, Lyn Murray quit to freelance. free-lance. His orchestra and chorus are doing a new series on CBS, he's conducting con-ducting the orchestra on the new Gertrude Lawrence show, and is choral conductor on both "Hit Parades" he's doing all right! ODDS AND ENDS A'BCj fcorirone crooner, Tommy Taylor, was about to ' give up his career when NBC took him off a milk truck . . . A new Sinatra Ian club with headquarters in Pitts, Pa., calls itsell "The Society of Souls Suffering Suf-fering From Sinatritis" . . . Oddest bond sales combination in the recent drive John D. Rockefeller and Dick Havmes, star of the air's "Here's to Romance" . . . Joe Yule, Mickey Ronncr's lather, has been cast in "Kitmet" his 50th part at Metro . . . Joan Davis, uhosc click on her newt radio prosram hits nil Hoi-lytcood Hoi-lytcood biddine for her servicer, has iiened to play the lead in "Show Business." Miguel shook his head. The cacique ca-cique or leader of the party in power pow-er has said Nationalism is not an Issue at the present I don't think there's any important organized Nationalist Na-tionalist opinion here now The Fa-lnneists Fa-lnneists and the Nationalists are the two extremes-in between you have the moderates.-But I didn't mean to give you a lecture on insular poli- ""one thing before you get off it." Pete said. "Where do you -tand in aU..eV.' Miguei Valera laughed. ..you'd be surprised," he said. "But as I started to say. this isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. 11 was Miss Heywood." I (TO UK CONTINIKO) Slighnaussgm ved "again, glanc 863 Ss window. Or Pete tnougnthe die8 He wasn't sure. rA-- brother-in-laws Central rifkhSra-angeit They shB ttlne and grinding the sugar are cutting ana K )(J in. cane now and I m surecoffee ter6Stfn the mountains. That would tatln vou very much too. The interest you ve y bIossom now, treeS,r: areT "y beautiful. Per-and Per-and Heywoo-l would be inter-haps inter-haps Miss Hey woo inteiijgent eStedBUay Ph"ps she is too nv young lady. & dangerous heard the door across the passage , close quietly, the key turn softly in lock, and his footsteps retreating quickly along the hall. Still with- M turning on the light she went quietly through the narrow passage between the closet and the wall kto her room. She stopped at the lot of her bed, shrouded in white ; mosquito netting, and glanced back , t the door. 1 "I Wonder . . ." she thought, j , """I Just wonder." j What If Miguel Valera had real-j real-j ei Uiere was something odd about it Richard Taussig too? That could ' '"Plain it He could have left Gra- cle'a for a minute just to come up ni see, while his uncle and Taus- " 'I were talking. She slipped to the window and |