I
CONRAD spent a feverish twenty minutes searching for the threeseater sports car in the various car parks that surrounded the amusement park. He was still at it, but realizing the hopelessness of the task, when he heard a police siren, and saw Bardin with a car full of prowl boys swing into the avenue leading to the main entrance of the amusement park.
Conrad ran out to meet the car, waving his hands.
The car pulled up and Bardin, looking hot and irritable, scowled out of the window.
“How are you getting on?” he demanded. “Found the car yet?”
“Shut that damned siren off!” Conrad snapped. “Do you want to scare those two hoods into action?”
Bardin got out of the car as the sergeant driver flicked off the siren.
“Well, come on. Did you find the car?”
“There’re about ten thousand blasted cars in here. Get your men spread out and searching. Any more coming?”
“A couple of wagons just behind. The Captain will raise hell when he hears I’ve pulled out the reserve.”
“If this girl gets killed, the D.A. will raise all the hell McCann will ever want! Get your men into action!”
“Hey! Wait a minute,” Bardin said, putting his hand on Conrad’s arm. “Look who’s coming,” and he jerked his thumb towards a tall young fellow with a crew hair-cut, who was wearing a red-patterned shirt outside his trousers. In his arms he held a collection of dolls, vases and boxes of candy. By his side walked a blonde girl in a white sports frock. “Think those are the two we’re looking for?”
“There must be ten thousand punks who’re wearing their shirts like that right in this park,” Conrad growled, “but I’ll ask him.” He strode up to Buster Walker. “You just come from Lennox Avenue?” he demanded, and felt a little shrill crawl up his spine at Buster’s look of blank astonishment.
“Why, sure,” Buster said. “How did you know?”
Conrad looked at Bunty.
“You Miss Boyd?”
“Yes,” Bunty said blankly.
Conrad signalled to Bardin, who joined them.
“These are the two. You’d better handle it, Sam.”
Bardin flashed his buzzer.
“I’m Lieutenant Bardin, City Police. Where’s Miss Coleman?”
“Frankie?” Buster gaped at him. “What do you want her for? What’s the idea?”
“Answer the question and snap it up!” Bardin barked. “Where is she?”
“We left her in the amusement park.”
“Alone?”
“No, she’s with Burt.”
“Burt — who?”
“Why, Burt Stevens, of course. What’s all this about?”
Bardin glanced at Conrad, who asked, “Has this Stevens guy got a birth-mark?”
“That’s right. A port-wine stain down the right side of his face.”
“Are you sure his name is Stevens?”
“He said it was. Is there something wrong, then?”
“But you don’t know for certain?”
“No, we don’t,” Bunty broke in. “I didn’t like the look of him when he came to the house. You see, we were all going to the beach: Frankie, Buster, Terry Lancing and myself. Terry phoned to say he couldn’t make it, and was sending his friend Burt to take his place. This boy turned up. He said he was Burt Stevens, but of course as I’ve never seen him before I don’t know for certain if he really is Burt Stevens.”
“Where exactly did you leave Miss Coleman?”
“They were going into the maze,” Buster said.
“What maze?”
“The mirror maze. It’s at the end of that avenue, next to the big tent. I wish you’d tell me what this is all about.”
“No time right now,” Conrad said curtly. “Stay right here. We may need you again.” He turned to Bardin. “Come on!” He didn’t wait to see Bardin’s reaction, but broke into a run, and began forcing his way through the crowds towards the big tent.
Bardin paused only long enough to give instructions to his sergeant.
“Get that maze surrounded. Don’t let anyone out. You know who to look for. Watch out for Moe. He’ll try to shoot his way out.”
He turned and ran after Conrad, leaving Buster and Bunty staring blankly after him.