As soon as I found out what he was going to do, I could call Captain Grumper and let him organize other effective steps to handle.
Heller got the 81 well clear and then, at slow speed, went back to the drifting Sea Skiff. He coasted the patrol craft alongside. He got a line and fastened it on the foredeck chock of the Sea Skiff and then passed it aft on the Coast Guarder and made it fast to the towing bitts.
Then he came back to the 81 forward deck.
One by one, he dragged the unconscious crew into the salon. He went back and collected the rifles and a couple of caps and then threw them in.
He looked at the gun breach. It surely was melted.
It was still hot and smoking. He found a CO2 extinguisher and sprayed it, probably to cool it off. Then he picked up its canvas cover and lashed it in place, probably to obscure the odd damage.
Next he looked at what was left of the aerials: just puddles of melted metal. Methodically he scraped up the silvery blobs and threw them overboard.
He got his sack and took out a pair of cutters and neated up the aerial stubs so they looked sheared, not melted.
That done, he affixed a short piece of wire to one of the stubs and left it dangling.
He went into a ship office and started going through bookcases. He found a manual which gave the uniforms and ship complements of the Coast Guard.
He went back up to the salon and gazed at the recumbent bodies which lay upon the floor.
Apparently satisfied, he went below and started going through quarters and lockers. He located the uniforms of the most senior man aboard and changed his clothes.
He went back up to the bridge.
He eased the throttles forward and soon, towing the Sea Skiff, had the 81 going down the coast at a leisurely pace. He put it on autopilot.
He went to the radio and turned its volume high. Sure enough, there was a constant chatter, rather faint due to the lack of much aerial, calling for the 81 to come in.
Heller picked up the mike. He acknowledged.
A voice from the speaker, "What's wrong? We couldn't raise you!"
"We had a little mishap," said Heller.
"You're coming in only Signal Three here. I can barely hear you."
Heller yelled into the mike, spacing his words distinctly. "We had a little mishap to radio and engines. Nothing serious. Everybody is a bit flaked out. The capture was successful. We are proceeding down the coast at reduced speed." He began to imitate a fade-out with his voice. "Radio is packing up. See you tomorrow afternoon...."
"Repeat last sentence, please."
Heller put down the mike and went back to gaze at the beautiful day.
It was probably his attitude, probably the way he propped his elbow on a radar and cupped his chin in his palm. Heller can drive anybody absolutely insane with things like that!
I went crazy. I phoned Captain Grumper.
"What's wrong now?" he said.
It was on the tip of my tongue to scream that an extraterrestrial had just seized his fast patrol craft. I checked myself in time. It would sound odd.
"The man," I said, "that you were supposed to capture has TAKEN OVER THE 81!"
"Oh, I think not," said Grumper. "We've just had a message here that after a brave sea battle, fully commensurate with the exacting standards of the Coast Guard, the capture was made."
"You haven't got the full story!" I snarled.
"Well, they did have some trouble. Engines and radio. But it's all handled."
"You're not in communication with that craft!"
"Well, as I said, they had radio trouble."
"Why is he heading south instead of north?"
"Oh, is he?" said Grumper. Then, after a moment, "But his base is to the south."
"Listen, Grumper, if you value your commission, you had better send out ships and planes and recover your craft!"
"Yes, sir! At once, sir!"
I rang off. I had jarred them out of their complacency. What riffraff! Letting an extraterrestrial Royal officer walk right in and grab off one of their ships!
It made me pretty angry, I can tell you, having to sit there and watch Heller's view.
He seemed to find the sea gulls interesting.
Then he YAWNED!
He finally got busy. He checked the chart and some landmarks. He was going right on by Manasquan Inlet. He wasn't going to go into the Intracoastal Waterway where it went inland! He was just continuing on down the coast in the broad Atlantic! He was even edging further and further from the shore. You couldn't make out the houses now.
He got interested in the radio log. He found the message directing them to intercept him.
"Hmm," he said. "Strong language."
He looked over the ship's log, noting the time they had first sighted him and then the sketchy entries of the chase. These ceased abruptly with the notation of his Aldis lamp message to them about their engines.
Heller got his sack and looked through it. He took out a small vial. With great care he eradicated all the entries from the moment of first sighting on.
He got a scrap of paper and practiced calligraphy from earlier entries.
Then, instead of "Sighted Sea Skiff 329-478A" he wrote, "Sighted appalling sea monster-orange wings,
purple horns, flaming breath, 300 feet in length. Speaks Scandinavian."
He made the next entry, "Giving chase. Sea monster travelling at 48 knots."
Then he wrote, "Sea monster has turned on ship. Demanding coffee." Then, with appropriate times, "Has now boarded over bow." "Is melting cannon with flaming breath." "Ate antennas." "Crew fainted, all except me. Good-bye, cruel world."
A roar of engines sounded in the sky.
Heller glanced out.
Three choppers were swiftly overtaking the slow-moving patrol craft.
One in the lead dived close.
Heller put his arm out of the pilothouse and waved.
THE THREE CHOPPERS WENT AWAY!
Raging, I got on to Grumper. "You're being hoodwinked!" I screamed. "That patrol craft is in enemy hands!"
"Oh, come now," said Grumper. "It's as I said. We have the Sea Skiff in tow. And one of the pilots even recognized the chief petty officer that is captain of the craft. Chief Jive, one of the most able blacks we have in service. Please, Mr. Swindle and Crouch, can't you let us get back to our normal duties? The Coast Guard's work is efficient beyond reproach."
The phone dropped out of my hand.
I sat there, stricken.
At first I had thought that the cops hadn't recognized Heller at Hudson Harbor because they had all seen the Whiz Kid on TV and thought they were looking for buckteeth and glasses. And now the truth dawned. He'd done it in the Stockbroker's Bar!
(Bleep) Spurk! With this rig, you couldn't see the
man's own face! Heller had used the same trick he had played in Connecticut! As he was wearing black cotton gloves, I hadn't seen his hands and neither had anyone else.
I watched with great care. And I confirmed it in the pilothouse window reflection at last. Heller was black-faced! And blacks all look alike to whites. No wonder the day had looked so beautifully hazeless! He was wearing tan contact lenses!
(Bleep) Heller! How can you keep up with such a man!
I did the only thing I could do, then. I phoned the harbor master at Atlantic City. I told him, "I am a Fed. I have to advise you that an attempt will be made to board and blow up the Golden Sunset sometime later today or tonight."
"Good Christ!" he said. "Blowing up a ship that size would make a harbor obstruction!" He was horrified.
"Precisely," I said. "So alert the ship and put her under arms. Don't let any vessels approach her, particularly the Coast Guard."
"Coast Guard?" he said. "Why not?"
"They're not all they're cracked up to be," I said. "They lose ships right and left and won't listen. But here is the important part: the saboteur is a black man, the most evil and deceptive (bleepard) anyone ever saw. If you catch a glimpse of him, don't even challenge. Just shoot on sight."