Synopsis: Doc was shot by an intruder soon after Peter and Marge left Seattle. They returned immediately, and Pete found himself giving a press conference in the hospital. When they returned home, they received a threatening phone call and a mysterious package. Frightened, Marge called Ted Mining for help. Then Pete went to the marina to close "Love Boat II".
Chapter Fourteen
Ted Mining and his lieutenant, Joe, were seated comfortably in the living room when Peter returned from the marina. Marge was just completing a summary of the threatening phone call Peter had received, while Mining idly examined the small unopened package that had been discovered in the mail beneath the drop in the door.
After exchanging somber greetings with their guests, Peter sat on the davenport. "You can see why we had to get together, I don't think it's safe to use the telephone. I hate to be so melodramatic, but what do you make of the package? Do you think it's a bomb?"
Mining nodded thoughtfully. "Possibly. Frankly, I'm more concerned about the phone call than I am the package, Mr. Baylis," he said, head cocked to one side. "It sounds as if you've met Rose," Mining said. "If your phone is tapped, I wonder what they made of her?"
"Rose?" Peter repeated stupidly.
"We don't know her real name," Mining explained, "so we code named her after Tokyo Rose because she's apparently a member of the Priesthood and rarely if ever brings good news. But let's take care of this first," he said, holding the package up. "Is there a swimming pool or fish pond in the backyard?"
Peter looked puzzled. "If you want to soak it before opening it, why not use the kitchen sink?"
Mining briefly smiled. "These people are good at second guessing," he said. "They realize you're unlikely to go to the police with this package because you'd be afraid of the questions they might ask. What's the first thing an amateur does with a questionable package?"
Mining permitted himself another small smile, and cocked his head as he prepared to answer his own question. "He soaks it." Abruptly, Mining's expression hardened. Looking directly at Peter. "Do you remember anything at all from your high school chemistry lab?"
Puzzled, Peter slowly shook his head.
"What happens when you drop a chunk of potassium in water?" Mining asked. Then answering his own question, Mining continued, "I can tell you one thing; if there's potassium in this package, you sure as hell don't want it in your kitchen sink!
"We want to soak this package, but we want to do it outside. If you don't have a fish pond or a pool, a bucket of water will do."
Peter led the way down the basement steps and into the utility room, where he paused long enough to fill a small bucket with water. Joe lifted the bucket from the laundry sink while Peter opened the back door and ushered his guests into the back yard. Joe carried the bucket to a corner of the yard and set it on the lawn.
Mining followed him. "Stand back," he cautioned. "This could be pretty explosive stuff." As he spoke, Mining casually dropped the package into the water.
Nothing happened. Peter started forward, but Mining held out an arm to restrain him. "Don't be impatient. Let's just leave it there for a while. Meanwhile, let's go back inside and you can tell us what else is going on."
After the men were seated again in the Baylis living room, Peter quickly summarized Doc's nearly fatal encounter with his intruder.
"Look, Ted," Peter said, forcing the words out of his suddenly dry throat and willing his voice not to betray his anxiety, "that Rose woman, if that's who she was, was deadly serious. We just have to get that fellow back. Kenny's missing, and for all we know she may be holding him! And even if Kenny's off doing his own thing somewhere else, we're still in the middle on this, and a fire bomb may be the least of our worries. I don't want to spend the next ten years wondering if I'll draw another breath whenever I start my car, or open the mail, or unlock my front door!"
"We'll protect you," Mining said quietly.
"How do you plan to do that?" Peter asked.
Mining shook his head. "We'll find of a way," he said. "Look, Pete, suppose you had a den of rattlesnakes in your back yard. What would you do? Buy all the white mice you could find to keep them full and happy, and hope they'd stay out of your house? Or would you take punitive action and try to get rid of them?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"Well, as analogies go, that's not very far fetched. As far as we're concerned, Sam is a viper. So is Rose. You just can't make friends with vipers. Luckily, we seem to be dealing with an isolated cell of vipers.
"Remember what I said about the structure the French used during World War II in resisting the Nazi occupation? By keeping the cells isolated from each other and communications flowing only from the top down, the movement was safe from a catastrophic betrayal, even under the most awful torture you could imagine. Individuals might weaken and betray fellow cell members, but the Gestapo was never able to find the movement's leaders or its nerve center.
"That's the situation here. We're dealing with an cell that, considering the general level of paranoia that seems to infect these people, may be even more stringently isolated than their French predecessors were. Obviously, this would be to their serious detriment, because I think it's highly likely that these people have no way of communicating up the chain, except indirectly. One way of doing that is by publishing an innocuous classified ad which covertly asks for a contact. Unfortunately for them, these roundabout methods take time usually, several days."
Mining paused, eyeing Peter with a speculative look, then continued, "So you see, Pete, your situation isn't as serious as you may have thought. All we need do is locate this particular viper's den and extract a few fangs before they can make that contact.
"Meanwhile, please continue your campaign." He paused as if collecting his thoughts, then added, "It would be a pity to go to all this bother only to see you defeated in the primary election next month. We have high hopes for your family corporation."
Mining then said, "I think that package has soaked long enough. Let's see what's in it. Do you have a light out on the patio?"
Peter nodded, so Mining continued, "Good. I'll need a very sharp knife, safety goggles if you have them, and a pair of forceps or needle nose pliers. Also, a portable vise or pair of `visegrip' pliers."
Again, the men descended the stairs. While Peter rummaged in his little workroom for the equipment Mining had requested, the other men retrieved the bucket and its contents. Peter carried the tools out to the patio table and snapped on the outdoors light.
Mining pulled the goggles over his head and adjusted them on the bridge of his nose. He looked like a bizarre hornet as he turned to Peter and Joe. "I think this is perfectly safe, but why take chances? I wish you two would step back into the house, just in case . . "
Peter and Joe obediently retreated into the basement and stood silently behind the masonry wall while Mining delicately opened the mysterious package.
