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Show ritft CARIBBEAN 1 m CONSPIRACY llllllll W BR EN DA CONRAD V J PvOlJ I THE STORY SO FAR: Anne Heywood, beautiful daughter of a wealthy New York newspaper publisher, goes to Puerto Puer-to Rico on an assignment (or her father's fa-ther's paper. Also on the Island are Pete Wilcox, a reporter on her father's paper, now a u. S. Army Intelligence officer; Miguel Valera, a Puerto RIcan educated In the United States who Is a secret U. S. agent; Richard Taussig, an engineer whose Identity as a German agent Is , suspected but not yet proved; and Rus- , tell Porter, a young American engineer, engi-neer, and his wife, Sue, who has given Mr. Taussig some valuable plans to look at as proof of Russell's ability. Anne bas concealed her suspicions of Taussig, , waiting until she Is sure. was a sharp silence before he touched it to the polished wood panel. Anne Heywood opened the door. She was aware of Sue Porter, tense and motionless, waiting behind her. "Good evening, Miss Heywood," Mr. Taussig said pleasantly. "I wonder if you'd allow me to come In for a moment." Anne hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. "I think we three should have a conference," he said. "I personally personal-ly would like to lay my cards on the table, face up." He was suave and serious. Anne stepped aside. "Come in, Mr. Taussig," she said coolly. Sue moved back against the writing writ-ing table. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen. "I think Mrs. Porter has explained ex-plained the situation," Mr. Taussig said. "It's absolutely necessary for you to return her husband's charts unless, of course, you are purposely pur-posely trying to ruin the two of them." Anne's eyes, dark amber and steady, met his calmly. (He really believes I have them, she was thinking.) think-ing.) "You do both of us an injustice, Miss1 Heywood," he said reproachfully. reproach-fully. "What I was about to say is this. If you will return Mrs. Porter's Por-ter's property or rather the property prop-erty of the United States Government Govern-ment at once, I will give you . . . a story. I have found out something some-thing about this Island that even your friend Captain Wilcox doesn't know. You could blast the Adminis- ten to me. I haven't got the charts, but he thinks I have. That means She hesitated. " Some one else has. And maybe we can save the pieces for you. Listen. We've got to get hold of Pete Wilcox. And gosh . . . we can't phone; he might hear us." She looked at her watch. It was after twelve. Sue stared at her dumbly. "Now look," Anne said suddenly. "You put a chair under the door knob and go to bed. I'm going out and find Pete. I'll get back If I can, but if I can't I'll go over to your house and stay until morning. Have you got a key, and what's the nurse's name if I have to explain?" "Maria," Sue answered weakly. She fished down in her pocket. She held out the key. "What are you going to do, Anne?" "I don't quite know. It all depends. de-pends. You just stay here and sit tight. If the phone rings say I've died or I'm taking a bath or something. some-thing. Do you understand?" Sue nodded. "And don't worry, sweetie. Ev-erything'll Ev-erything'll work out" Anne went to the window overlooking over-looking the ocean and leaned out The tiled roof of the bar was five feet under her sil. It sloped up gently and down again toward the sea wall. Beyond it was the sandy ocean beach. She could get out all right. Getting back in was something some-thing else again. Still, getting out was more important than getting in. "Don't worry if I don't come back," she whispered. "Just stay here till you hear from me." She hung her bag over her shoulders, shoul-ders, slipped off her pumps, fastened fas-tened them inside her belt and swung her feet over the ledge. "If I get arrested I'll phone you." She gripped the sill and let herself her-self down, the stucco grating against her knees, felt her feet touch the uneven tiles, and let go the window. win-dow. She crept to the end of the roof above the terrace. Her heart rose. The trellis with the bougain-villea bougain-villea over it was near enough for her to catch hold of ... if the terrace ter-race was empty. She listened, reached out, caught it and swung herself across, climbed down, brushed herself off and slipped around to the sea wall. "You're being a fool, Anne," she thought. She took her pumps oft her belt, put them on, closed her eyes and jumped down onto the cool firm sand to where the street came to a dead end in the ocean. She hurried up under the palms to the broad avenue in front of the hotel and crossed the street to the taxi stand. "Take me" She stopped. The driver was looking look-ing at her oddly as well he might, she thought. He'd look odder than that if she went to the Bachelor Officers' Of-ficers' Quarters at Fortress El Morro. " To the Escambron," she said. It was hard to remember what a lady did or didn't do in Latin countries. coun-tries. The Valeras would probably have very rigid ideas on the subject. She got out. For an instant she hesitated, and then hurried inside and to the telephone. Her heart sank as she wondered what she could do if he was not there. She waited. Suddenly his voice came. "Pete this is Anne. I'm at the Escambron. Can you come quickly? quick-ly? I'll be outside on the walk, about half-way down. I've got to see you. Petel Are you there? It's Anne, Pete ... is anything the matter? Please, Pete! I've got to see you!" It was five minutes to six when Anne came out of the dining room of the Granada into the lobby. At six o'clock Mr. Taussig came down the stairs. He had his green guide book and his brief case in his hand. "Good morning," she said brightly. bright-ly. "I thought you'd forgot. I've been up an hour and had breakfast." break-fast." The slight frown on Mr. Taussig's face cleared. '.'Splendid." He glanced up at the clock. "Where is Mrs. Porter?" "She's asleep, poor kid." A car had come up the drive and stopped under the portico. She recognized rec-ognized Diego Gongaro's black limousine. lim-ousine. Steady, old, girl, she told herself sharply. " What time will we be back, do you think? I'd like to leave her a note." "Better make it late, and if we're back early it will be a pleasant surprise," sur-prise," said Mr. Taussig. "About five." By five o'clock Mr. Taussig expected ex-pected confidently to be a substantial substan-tial distance from the Island of Puerto Rico. In the long watches of the night he had come to one or two very definite conclusions chiefly concerned con-cerned with his own future well-being. well-being. Anne went to the desk. She'd better bet-ter not write anything. It might make him suspicious. "Will you tell Mrs. Porter, who's in my room, that I won't be back until late, between five and six?" she said to the night clerk. She turned back to Mr. Taussig with a smile. "She won't be so worried." wor-ried." TO BE CONTINUED) CHAPTER XVI Pete Wilcox came into the lobby of the Granada. "Is Miss Heywood In?" he asked. The clerk nodded behind him. "She's on the terrace, sir." "Thanks." Pete lit a cigarette and took a deep breath. She could get as mad as a hornet this time, but she was going home and no monkey busi- ness about it. He'd come from Colonel Fletcher's office and he knew enough now to be plenty hardboiled about it. He went up the palm-lined in-I in-I eline to the terrace, stepped out into the arcade, and stopped. He stood there stupidly, his mouth open, a sharp sick ache tearing his insides to shreds. She was there, and so was Miguel Valera. But neither of them was aware that he was. It seemed like hours before he could wrench himself loose from the tiled floor and get away. He staggered stag-gered a little as he went, too blind to see where he was going. Anne closed the door of her room and stood for a moment in the dark, leaning her head back against the frame, her eyes closed. , She was happier than she had ever been or ever known she could be. She went along the narrow passage into her room and stopped, looking at the waste basket. Maybe she had better bet-ter read the girl's note after all. Not that it mattered, because that was the past, and pasts didn't count. It was just . . . She stopped abruptly. Out in the hall was the sound of hurrying feet, coming closer, a quick frantic tattoo on the polished floor. She put down the pen and turned around. They were just outside. In the next instant in-stant the door burst open, and Sue Porter flashed it shut behind her again. "Anne!" she cried. She was as white as death, her eyes desperate with fear. "Anne! Give them back, Anne!" Her voice broke into terrible sobs. "Oh, please, Anne!" Anne went to her quickly. "Give you what. Sue? What is it? What are you talking about?" "Russell's plans . . . the specifications." specifi-cations." She tried to control herself. "I . . . gave them to Mr. Taussig. He said if he could see them for half an hour he could decide if Russell Rus-sell was the man for a big job they have. Just for half an hour, he said. I thought . . . Oh, Anne, I thought . . ." "I know what you thought," Anne said brutally. "Go on." "But he didn't bring them back. I kept calling up, but I couldn't get him. And just now he came over. He said they were gone out of his room. He was terrible! He frightened me so I knew what I'd done. I said 'Who'd steal them? Where are they?' and he said, 'Go ask your friend Miss Anne Heywood. Hey-wood. She's the thief. She's spied on me every turn of the road.' He hates you, Anne!" Anne turned her head quickly, her heart throbbing suddenly in her throat. Someone was in .the hall, on the other side of the door. It was a sound of cloth rubbing softly against the wood. There was a knock on the door. It came again . . . insistent and yet somehow furtive, as if whoever it was was looking up and down the hall to make sure no one else was coming. Sue raised her body slowly from the bed. The room was suddenly static with fear. "Don't, Anne," she whispered. "Don't open the door!" Mr. Richard Taussig paced up and down between the two beds like a caged tiger. His face was mottled oyster-gray, the pupils of his eyes contracted to sharp points of obsidian. obsid-ian. Both beds were disordered heaps. He couldn't believe the fine glazed linen charts he'd laid carefully care-fully between the mattress and the springs were gone. And he knew before he ripped it up that he had not put it in the other bed. They were gone. The film of the micro-photograph micro-photograph he'd taken of them was safely in the minute camera in the armpit pocket of his dinner jacket but that was unimportant compared with the disappearance of the original. origi-nal. "Finesse," Mr. Taussig thought. He looked around the room. His ?reen guide lay on the table. He went to the door and opened it quietly. The sound of hysterical A'ecping came through the transom icross the hall. He slipped over, iatcned. looking up and down the all to make sure no one came out. nd raised his hand to knock. There She crept to the end of the roof. tration to the moon . . . which would tie in beautifully with the policy pol-icy of your father's paper." ! This must be important, Anne thought. He's trying to bribe me with a special currency. "What is the story, Mr. Taussig?" she said coolly. "Give Mrs. Porter her property first" "I'd like the story first, to see if it's worth it," Anne replied. She looked at Sue. Her eyes had widened wid-ened with sudden hope. "As a matter mat-ter of fact, Mr. Taussig, I can't feel that you're that anxious to save the Porters, frankly." Mr. Taussig smiled again. "By no means. Miss Heywood. It's not the Porters. It's myself, I assure you. After I have told a company of Army officers that you suspect I'm a spy, and they learn that you've found documents in my room which should not I admit frankly have been there, it makes my position exceedingly awkward. My profession is one that doesn't admit a shadow of misinterpretation." misinterpreta-tion." "What is your profession, Mr. Taussig?" "I am a sanitary engineer, Miss Heywood." Anne smiled. "Of course. I knew that. And when can I have this story?" "Tomorrow morning, at six o'clock. If you will meet me downstairs." down-stairs." Mr. Taussig had not really believed be-lieved it would be so simple. "I keep the specifications as safe conduct until then?" Sue Porter's eyes were burning green, her cheeks hotly flushed. "That is the understanding." "Good night, then, Mr. Taussig." Anne waited until he closed the door. She flashed across the room, putting her hand over Sue's mouth. "No!" she whispered. "No!" Then she said aloud, as casually as she could force herself to say it, "You can have them by noon then. Sue. You stay here tonight with me." She listened intently. When Taussig's Taus-sig's door closed she dropped her hand. "Come in the bathroom," she whispered. "Look be quiet and lis- |