Act Four, Part Two

"I sure am glad ta see ya, Callahan!" said the driver. With a smile, he started to take the gun from Jim West's hand.

Jim released his grip on the revolver and it fell right to the ground. Stansbury in front of Jim let out an oath as he bent to retrieve the gun, while Callahan behind Jim made the bad mistake of letting himself get distracted by the fall of the weapon. The muzzle of his gun drifted slightly, and as soon as it lost firm contact with West's head, the Secret Service agent swept his arm up into a block, shoving the gunman's hand out and away from him. He then brought the same arm back sharply, ramming his elbow into Callahan's diaphragm. The air spouted from the gunman's lungs and he doubled over.

Jim switched his attention to Stansbury. As that fellow started hastily to straighten up again, Jim double-hammered him on the back, then brought a knee up, crashing it into the man's chin. Down went Stansbury.

Jim spun to face the still-gasping gunman and grabbed him by his hair to immobilize him. With an admonishment of, "From now on, stick to driving," Jim finished him off with a haymaker.

He paused for a second to catch his breath, then made sure both men were out cold. He collected the guns from the ground and slid his own back into its holster. The other he tossed under the driver's seat of one of the carriages.

"Sorry, Charlie," he said to Stansbury's horse and gave it a comforting pat on the nose. Then Jim headed on toward the back door of the warehouse to let himself inside.

…

"Bidding!" exclaimed Countess Zorana. "What do you mean, bidding? I already paid you twel… that is, several thousand dollars to help me acquire the Phoenix and take it out of this country. How dare you turn the Phoenix over to anyone other than me, particularly to that…" She glared at Kutman. "…that corpulent nouveau riche… Ugh!"

Artie chuckled and inclined his head toward her in a bow of irony. At that moment a light tap on his shoulder drew his attention. "Mein Herr," Merle Koch said sotto voce.

"Ja, Koch?"

As ever in his native tongue, Koch whispered to Kutman, "The young lady is forgetting something, I believe. She and I have met before. You remember that the night before you fell ill she came to visit you at the hotel. I answered the door, then you gave me the evening off leaving the two of you there alone, so that at the time I presumed she was there as an, ah…" He smirked. "…assignation. But you were conducting business with her, were you not? This business of the Phoenix. The countess hired her to steal the Phoenix, but so did you!"

Artie replied with a noncommittal suspiration, but inwardly was thanking Koch profusely. Why the man should find it necessary to give him such information just at this moment, he didn't know, but whatever Koch's motive, Artie was glad of it. Well, provided Koch was right. Artie turned his attention back to the squabble between the two women.

"As you are double-crossing me," the countess was saying, "in that you expect me to bid on that which I have already paid you to obtain for me, then I must insist you return to me my money!"

Ecstasy only smiled. "But my dear Countess, I no longer have your generous retainer."

Zorana glowered. "Then you are a bigger thief than I believed you to be."

The young brunette's smile broadened. "I had business expenses to take care of. This warehouse to rent, and these good minions to hire." She waved a hand, taking them all in, then leaned forward and steepled her fingers, contemplating the other woman over the top of her hands. "If you insist on having your money back, I'm afraid you'll just have to take it straight from the wallets of the men you see around you. Armed men, my dear Countess, who aren't likely to give up anything to you without a fight.

The minions all glared at Zorana and brandished their weapons. Zorana opened her mouth to object, then closed it with a snap. Folding her arms, she swiveled in her chair to give Ecstasy and her men a fine view of her back.

Miss La Joie gave a silent laugh, then turned her attention to Kutman. "And what of you, Gaspar? What is your bid?"

…

A loading dock door at the back of the warehouse yielded to Jim's lock pick and he slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He paused to listen and heard the voice of a young woman saying, "And what of you, Gaspar? What is your bid?"

Bidding? For the Phoenix? Is that why Memphis and the countess had been picked up, for the case the little man had been carrying? If so, someone was in for a big disappointment. But of course that had been the plan.

The voice though: soft, feminine, young… Jim had heard it before. He could hear it in memory even now, saying to him… yes, saying to him, "Enemies forever."

Her? But how had she wound up in all this, Jim wondered as he headed cautiously deeper into the warehouse, following the sounds of the voices.

…

Artie returned Miss La Joie's laugh. "Why, my dear, it seems I could easily top the lovely countess' offer by bidding a mere dollar! But that is not what you want. That would be a joke, and you are not a woman to trifle with jokes, as I can see. Therefore my bid to you is the same offer I made to Messieurs West and Gordon the other day: ten thousand dollars. Cash." Seeing a slight frown developing between Miss La Joie's eyebrows, he added quickly, "That is of course in addition to the funds which I have already paid you."

The frown cleared, and Artie breathed an inward sigh of relief at having guessed correctly that Kutman had already given Miss La Joie some money - no doubt the very envelope the big man had offered to Jim and Artie in the carriage.

Ecstasy inclined her head to him and said, "Then Gaspar's bid is twenty thousand dollars. Back to you, Countess."

Every eye turned to look at her, to find that her back was still doing the talking for her.

Ecstasy chuckled. "I see. Would anyone else care to bid? Mr Memphis? Professor? Herr Koch?"

This unleashed a number of responses, with the professor protesting that he was not part of this bidding war by any means, the countess protesting that Memphis was with her and certainly would not be bidding, and Kutman pointing out the same thing about Koch.

…

Jim frowned. Professor? Who was Ecstasy addressing as professor?

And then he heard Montague's voice averring that he had no part in this matter, and Jim realized that things were more serious that he had known.

More cautiously than before, Jim crept closer to the source of the voices.

…

"In fact," Artie said to keep in character, "it seems to me, my dear Mis…" No, she'd called Kutman by his first name. "…my dear Ecstasy, that the bidding is already over and I have won. I fear I haven't the money on me at present, having just come from a hospital stay. Had your men permitted me to repair to my suite first - indeed, had they apprised me of the fact that an auction was in the offing - I might have secured the funds for you beforehand. As it stands… Hmm?"

For Ecstasy was shaking her head. "You don't understand, Gaspar. This is merely the preliminary round. If the bidding doesn't go high enough - and it hasn't - I shall simply have to offer the Phoenix to others. France once owned it, and there's also the city of Florence. And of course there are plenty of other nations in Europe that might show an interest in obtaining such a treasure. Bosnia itself might well enter the competition to win it back. Not to mention private collectors such as yourself."

At Artie's side, Herr Koch muttered a Teutonic oath. But as Artie turned a glance his way, only to note that the German's face was as sullen as ever, another voice lifted in remonstrance, saying, "But, but no! You can't!"

…

Here was the place. Jim cracked open the door and was rewarded with a sudden increase in volume just in time to hear a certain little man crying out, "But, but no! You can't!"

Jim made a swift inspection of as much of the room as he could see. There were four toughs near him, each of them paying rapt attention to the goings on deeper in the room, beyond the stacks of boxes they were facing. Jim entered quietly and slipped up on the closest man. A quick chop to the side of that man's neck and he was out. Jim caught him as he fell, then silently lowered him to the floor. One down - well, three counting the drivers outside. Keeping to the shadows, Jim moved on toward the next man.

…

Heads swiveled toward the source of the plaintive outcry. "I can't?" Ecstasy responded softly. "Do explain to me why not, Mr Memphis."

The little man was on his feet, his eyes and mouth perfect circles, his face contorted as if in pain. "You… You just can't, that's all," he whimpered. His fingers were twitching, and a single tear went sliding down his cheek.

Ecstasy tipped her head, watching the little man, noting how he was staring steadfastly at the wooden case on the corner of the table. She then called out, "Rayburn!"

One of the bruisers, the one who had carried in the case, snapped to attention. "Yes'm?"

"Where did you get this case?"

The bruiser nodded at Memphis. "Snivels there had it when we picked him up."

Miss La Joie leaned forward and laid a hand on the case. "And this is what the Phoenix made the ocean crossing in?"

No one answered. The countess had gone back to not speaking to anyone, and Memphis was too miserable. As for Artie and the professor, neither man wanted to have to account for how he knew that was the Phoenix' case.

Ecstasy frowned and inspected the case more closely. "Oh, it can't possibly…" she murmured to herself, then said, "Where are the keys?"

…

Two men from the room were down now. And now three.

…

Again the professor and Artie declined to answer, as did Memphis. But after a few moments' silence a voice rang out, "Oh, he has a duplicate pair of keys, the little wretch. I've known about his extra keys since he had the case made back in Bosnia!"

Heads swiveled again, this time toward the countess, who with her chin held high was glaring down her nose at Memphis. "I knew you would not rest until you had the Phoenix in your grasp. I have been watching carefully, making sure you never had the opportunity to make off with it. This despite all your many reassurances that you would help me to acquire it, that you would make sure that in the end, I had the Phoenix. Hmph!"

"But, but, Zorana, I assure you, I meant every word I said! I have no designs on the Phoenix."

"Ha!" And now she turned her back on Memphis.

"Come here, Mr Memphis," said Ecstasy La Joie.

"Hmm? What?" The little man shied back from her, his eyes wide.

"Oh, I won't hurt you - that is, unless you force me to," she said. "Come here to the table. I want you to open the case."

"I…" He balked for a second, just a second. And then the shining gleam of an idea flitted across his face. "Yes, yes, of course. Right away!" He scuttled forward, dug in his pocket for the keys, then used them to unlock the case.

…

And now all the minions from closest to the door had been picked off one by one. Jim took up the spot the last of those men had been standing in and swiftly popped his head up and down again, taking a glance at the main portion of the room. There was Artie, furthest from Jim and closest to the door, with Herr Koch sitting at his side. Next was an empty chair, then came the haughty figure of Countess Zorana followed by Professor Montague. Across from them at the table stood little Mr Memphis and at the opposite side of the table from him sat the ever-lovely Ecstasy La Joie.

Five big men stood just beyond that closely grouped circle, and at least another seven or eight minions were scattered among the boxes and barrels over here near Jim. Reasonable odds, he thought as he kept his eyes and ears peeled for some opening of which he could take advantage.

…

Artie caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face over behind some boxes just as the locks on the case clicked open. A moment later everyone but Artie and the professor - and, Artie presumed, Jim - was craning forward to catch a glimpse as the lid fell back exposing the little mound under the square of purple cloth. Ecstasy reached out; Memphis took up the linen gloves and handed them to her. She slipped them on, then whipped the purple cloth aside.

A collective sigh met the sight of the golden orb studded with rubies. Ecstasy lifted it from the cushion and held it in her hands, frowning prettily at it. Then she rose and carried it over to Prof Montague, demanding of him, "What is this?"

"That?" he said, coming hastily to his feet. "Ah, that's the Florentine Phoenix, of course." He peered owlishly at her, blinking rapidly. "What else would it be?"

"That's what I'd like you to tell me, Professor. I could have sworn the Phoenix would be in your valise. In fact, I really should have searched it already. I…"

"Ah…" Mr Kutman interjected loudly, drawing everyone's attention away from the professor. "It's no good, you know. They aren't there anymore."

Heads swiveled again, first to look at Kutman, then to follow his gaze toward the table where poor Memphis was falling to pieces. The cushion and false bottom of the case were lying to one side on the table top as the little man rummaged with increasing panic through the hidden and now empty compartment. "What… what… where…?" He looked up now, his eyes blazing as he snarled, "You! You, you took them! You knew about them and you…!"

Memphis launched himself toward Kutman, hissing and spitting, delirious with fury, his hands straining toward the big man's throat. Artie jumped from his chair and grabbed it to use as a weapon to fend off the little madman's attack, while up among the boxes Jim West tensed, ready to come to his partner's aid.

Suddenly Koch stepped between Kutman and the onrushing Memphis. With a single swipe the bodyguard backhanded the much smaller man, sending him spinning away.

The countess shrieked and sprang to her feet. The professor jumped to one side and Miss La Joie to the other, both of them getting out of the way just in time before Memphis flew between them to land in a heap on the carpet.

For a moment there was silence, broken at length by Memphis as he groaned and sat up. He touched his face gingerly, then stared in horror at his hand, at the deep red stain on his hand. "My, my nose," he snuffled. He snatched out his handkerchief to staunch the crimson flow, glanced over at Kutman and the glowering Koch, and wisely scuttled away from them as far as he could go.

Ecstasy sighed and stared down at the pool of blood where Memphis had lain. "Well, it seems my carpet didn't get spared after all," she murmured. Then she strode over to Kutman, tipping her chin up to look him in the eye. "What was that about?"

Artie cocked an eyebrow. "Our dear Mr Memphis just learned that smuggling doesn't pay."

"Smuggling!" exclaimed Zorana. "What do you mean, smuggling?"

"It seems little Bartholomew had in mind to use the well-known visit of the Phoenix as a means to slip his own art treasure past us all. No wonder he was eager to help you gain the bird, dear Countess, since his own little mice were hitching a ride in its case. Until I liberated them, that is."

From the floor, a voice wheezed out, "Thief!"

Kutman laughed heartily. "And you are not? Truly, in a gathering such as this, one might as well cry out 'Human!' as 'Thief!' That is, with apologies to the elderly gentleman over there." He bowed toward Montague, who knit his formidable eyebrows at him in return. "But to return to the point, Ecstasy my dear," Artie's aim being to keep her distracted from the valise, "let me assure you that whatever price you name for that exquisite treasure in your hands, I will pay it. Gladly."

She shot him a piercing look. "You will? Even if the price is, say…" She dimpled at him. "…one million dollars?"

"One…" exclaimed the countess, her face blanching. "One mill…" She drew out a silk handkerchief and dabbed at her face.

Artie met Ecstasy's gaze steadily, trying to discern her expectations of him: should he agree or should he haggle? "You realize, my dear," he temporized, strolling over to the table, "that such a sum is not one I can instantly produce. What bank, even here in San Francisco, would have an amount like that ready on hand?" He replaced the false bottom inside the case. "I could conceivably raise, say, thirty thousand quickly, with another fifty thousand at the end of a month. But a million?" He shook his head, tut-tutting as he settled the cushion into its proper place. "By the time I could finish paying off such a debt, my dear, you would have grown weary of waiting for it and, I think, perhaps even grown a bit too old to enjoy it properly." Using the purple cloth, he relieved her of the Phoenix she'd been carrying and nestled it gently into its hollow in the cushion alongside its key. He closed the lid, locked it shut, slipped his hand into his pocket for a moment, then took her hand and laid the two keys for the case into her palm, gently folding her fingers over them. "Eighty thousand, my dear. Final offer."

She smiled at him. "You wily old darling! Eight hundred thousand."

Good, she was haggling. Anything to keep her attention away from the professor's valise - and for that matter, from Artie's own pocket. "One hundred thousand, though it may beggar me to the end of my days."

"You, beggared, Gaspar? I cannot imagine such a possibility."

"Especially when you have my mice!" groused a voice from the floor.

"What mice?" exclaimed Countess Zorana, clearly drawing nigh to the last frayed end of her patience.

"The mice that are now residing in Col Richmond's safe," came a new voice. Once more heads swiveled. There he stood, the man in powder-blue, having appeared just then as if from nowhere.

And chaos attended his arrival.

"You!" That exclamation came from Ecstasy La Joie. "Well, it certainly took you long enough to show your face, my dear Mr West. Get him, all of you!"

The minions closest to Jim were already on the move. The first one to arrive swung at him with a club. Jim snatched up a wooden crate and used it to block the blow, then threw the crate at the minion, knocked him down.

By this time the bruisers and toughs were heading toward Jim, while Countess Zorana was bustling the opposite way, hurrying for the door through which she'd been escorted into this mess. She'd almost reached it too before a hand closed on her arm and a voice said, "Oh no no, not so fast, dear lady!"

Zorana whirled and tried to pull her wrist out of Prof Montague's grasp but to no avail. As she wrenched her arm this way and that, the scientist produced a pair of manacles and managed to cuff one of her wrists. Getting the other cuff on her, however… that wasn't so easy.

As for Artie, as soon as he heard his partner's voice, the phony Kutman had gone for the valise. He dug out the jug, removed its bottom, shook out the well-wrapped bundle from within, then jammed it into another pocket of his fat suit. He next extracted the key from its hiding place, slipping that into his pocket as well. He was just burying the jug, its bottom now back in place, under the journals and clothing in the valise again when he became aware that someone else was also charging for the table.

It was Koch. His eyes met Artie's for a split-second, then Koch seized his own carpetbag. From its roomy interior he produced, of all things, a small sword encased in a black sheath. Artie gaped for a second before exclaiming, "How did you fit that in there?"

Koch ignored him and snatched the sheath off the blade. Eyes glittering, he bowed to Herr Kutman, then ran to the battle that was shaping up all around James West.

A Trauerdegen! That's what Koch had had hidden in his carpetbag, a mourning dagger! Wishing that he'd thought to blurt out his question in German, Artie hurried to the fray himself to help Jim fight off the crowd of bad guys - and apparently Herr Koch as well.