Bad Manners

Part 2

The next few weeks were spent casing the warehouse. Business continued as normal as far as I could tell. Guards on the outside kept me from getting close. I saw Cigarette Man a couple of times. I talked with Jack Horneer in the hospital, but told him nothing about the steel cylinders or what I saw in them. Finally two weeks later I get a call from the Muffin Man.

We met at a restaurant downtown. For the first time since I had met him, he appears nervous and agitated, glancing around the lounge.

"Are you all right?" I ask, "You seem nervous."

"If I appear to be agitated it is because of what I have discovered. Those government documents go to an office that is a front for something very top level. Most of the people working there are engaged in perfectly normal activities. The real work is being done by a select few. And that's not all.

"I had to go through three chemists to determine the composition of the gas in that canister. Even then I could only get a partial analysis of the gas. One thing they all pointed out was that some of the elements do not exist on this planet," he says gravely.

"What?" I cry out.

"Shhh, shhh. Keep your voice down," he says quietly, "That's what they said."

"You mean all this stuff I've seen, the chambers, what I saw in the open chamber, all come from outer space? Are we dealing with creatures from outer space like in the movies?"

"I don't know," he replies quietly. "But it is big. Something big enough to kill a crime lord who apparently found out too much and then make them try to cover their tracks," he replies in hushed tones.

"What's the Fed's part in this? What do they get out of this?"

"Technology, is my guess. Haven't you ever wondered how things like radio came about? Probably a by-product of research that is being done for military purposes. Also my investigations have discovered a systematic replacing of people in key positions in the government. Officials retire and are being replaced by people with manufactured backgrounds. All very proper on the surface so no one suspects anything."

"Are you saying that men from outer space are running the government?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"I don't know. All I can say now is this may be the last time we meet," he says looking me in the eye. "My investigations have drawn unwanted attention to me, so I must disappear for a while."

This scared me. If someone like the Muffin Man had to vanish because he feared for his safety, it also made me think about mine. Maybe it was time for me to disappear too, go to another city.

"What should I do?"

"That is entirely up to you." He then slid an envelope across the table to me. I open it up and it is filled with cash and a piece of paper.

"Consider this as payment for what you have done for me. The paper has a list of people that can reach me if you need to. Memorize the names and destroy the paper. And now I must bid you adieu." He then gets up and walks out of the lounge.

Once again I sit there wondering what I've gotten myself into. But I had one more person to see before I made my next move.

Jack Van Horneer finally got out of the hospital, though he was still weak. I met him at his estate after being guided in by several guards. I was led to a large room and one of them wheeled him in.

"You're looking better than the last time I saw you."

"Hmmmph!" he snorts. "What do you have to report?"

I look at his two men standing behind Horneer. "Do you trust these men?" I inquire.

"I trust them or they're dead," he deadpans.

"I have some pretty important stuff to tell you."

Horneer glances at the men and motions them to leave the room. "Satisfied?"

I then spent the next hour telling Horneer about the events I had experienced the last few months, the warehouses, the canisters, the chambers and what I saw inside them. I told him about the gas and the alien elements in it. I told him about the government front office and the people being replaced in high positions.

After listening to me, Van Horneer finally speaks up.

"I can see why you didn't want anyone around. So what do you do now?"

"My gut instinct from the beginning told me to pass on this deal. It's way too big for me."

"I can't blame you. Those sonsabitches probably killed Humphrey when he found out he was dealing with guys from outer space. Probably threatened to expose them. I don't like it, I don't like any part of it,"he exclaims. "I don't like people from outer space coming in and playing us for fools. Business I can understand, but they just made it personal. If you want to stay in, I have one more assignment for you." He then wheels around and knocks on the door. The two men come back into the room.

"Go get Warner and tell him to bring the items we talked about." He turned to me again. "Warner is one of my bookkeepers. He found something that at first didn't make any sense, but now it does."

The two men return with a very nervous man carrying a large ledger. "You wanted to see me, Mr Horneer?"

"Yes, show this guy here the entries you showed me. He might find it interesting."

"Well, it's just a list of shipping dates and stuff. Most are normal enough, destinations, payments and receipts, but a few are odd." He opens the ledger and points out some entries. "Look at this one here, and this one here, and these over here."

"What about them?" I ask.

"I have a relative who lives in this town. The shipping company is fake and the address is a local farm. I checked out the other locations and they're fake too," the accountant says nervously.

"So? Someone is trying to hide a whiskey operation, big deal."

"All our distilleries have a certain code number that we use so we know where it's coming from. These don't."

"Someone is shipping something you don't know on your trucks to your warehouses."

"Exactly," Horneer says, looking directly at me. "Thanks Warner, that'll be all."

The man gathers his books and is guided out of the room by the two men.

"I want you to go to this address and find out what you can, find out what's being shipped out of this farm. Report back to me and ten gees are yours."

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Horneer says menacingly.

The next day I'm at the train station waiting for my train, thinking about what Horneer said to me. It's a long trip and I have plenty of time to consider my actions. I could split, but I had a feeling Van Horneer wouldn't be too happy about that.

Two days later I'm standing in the east podunk train station, population, who gives a damn. I check into the only hotel there and after settling in I start looking around. Fields of wheat and corn make up most of the countryside. In the local diner I make a few innocent inquiries about the farm I'm looking for. I get mostly glares and silence from the few I ask. The waitress walks over and speaks to me.

"You're asking about the Morgan place? You're from out of town. Are you a bill collector?" she says menacingly.

"No, no, I'm just a surveyor. The state wants this land surveyed."

"Why? Nothing out there but empty land," another adds.

"It's just my job, I don't ask why."

"Well, it's ten miles outside of town, east of here," the waitress says.

"I came in by train. Is there someplace I could get a ride out there? I'll pay for it."

The waitress gives me a long look and finally says, "I get off in an hour. Meet me here and I'll take you. Five dollars round trip, take it or leave it," she says, walking away.

"That'll be fine."

"What's your name, mister?"

"Sam."

"Sally. See you in one hour."

An hour later Sally walks out the front door of the diner. I'm waiting at the curb.

"Over here, Mister Sam," she says, pointing at an old truck parked in the back. "Hop in."

I get in and she drives down the road. The trip is quiet until we reach a point in the road. The only thing that stands out is an old mailbox and dirt road leading to a farmhouse and barn. She starts to turn towards the farmhouse when I stop her.

"Uh, thanks. Um, it's late. I wouldn't want to disturb their supper. I can come back at a better time."

Sally looks strangely at me for several seconds. "OK, Mister Sam, but it's still five dollars," holding her hand out and looking at him intently.

"Sure. If you could just take me to the hotel, that'll be fine," I reply, handing her the bill.

"Sure," she says, stuffing it in her shirt.

After arriving at the hotel I go to my room to plan my next move.

******

The next morning I'm back at the diner for breakfast. Sally is behind the counter serving the few customers there.

"Sleep well, Mister Sam?" she says, cocking an eyebrow and pouring coffee.

"Just fine."

"I suppose you'll be going out to the Morgan place again today?"

"Yes. I don't suppose I could ask a favor of you?"

"You want me to take you out there again, I assume?"

"Actually I was wondering if I could borrow your truck, you know, to carry my stuff in. I'll pay you."

"You want to borrow my truck, Mister Sam?" she says, looking at me menacingly.

"I'll pay you twenty dollars now and twenty when I return. With a full tank of gas."

Sally thinks for several seconds and then finally says "Fine, but I swear, if you damage it or do anything with it, I will hunt you down!" she says, staring at me.

I put a twenty on the counter and she reluctantly hands me the keys.

"I think I'm going to end up regretting this," she mutters while walking away.

I drive down the road until I spot the mailbox and farm houses. Parking the truck in an out-of-the-way spot, I slowly move through the field, staying low. Crouching in the grass, I watch the area. I'm no expert on farms, but I thought I should see a lot more activity in one. Finally, after an hour, a person comes out of the house and goes into the barn. He comes back out after a few minutes and goes back into the house.

Thinking it was safe, I moved slowly towards the barn, circling around the back way. Moving carefully along the side, I slowly open the door a crack and go in.

Inside, I see more of the same stuff that I saw in the warehouses, canisters, chambers and things I couldn't recognize. I was examining the equipment when I heard the farmhouse door open and slam shut. The barn door is too far away for me to get to before the man comes in. Quickly, I jam my body behind some crates and the wall. A second later, two men walk inside and start moving things around. I can hear them speak, but they are talking in some strange language I can't understand. They keep on working inside the barn while I struggle to be as quiet as possible in my hiding place. It's hot, and I had to stifle a sneeze. Finally they finish what they are doing and walk outside. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slowly extricate myself from my hiding spot and quietly move toward the door.

After checking the outside, I rush to the high grass and calm my rapid breathing. I slowly make my way back to the road and drive back to town. After cleaning up in my room, I go back to the diner where Sally is busy at work.

"Back already from surveying?" she says sarcastically.

"Yeah, for today," I say, sliding a twenty across the counter.

She stuffs the bill in her pocket and pours him some coffee. "So, I guess you may be needing my truck some more?"

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble for you?"

"I'll think about it. If you're interested, there's a nice place about twenty miles down the road, it has better food than the slop here. I get off at six."

"I'd like that."

"Meet me here at seven, then."

"Deal."

I meet her in front of the diner and she drives us to the next town.

"Here it is," she says, pulling into a small place. "It's not much, but I know the owners and the food is pretty good."

Inside, I had to admit it wasn't half bad, much better than a lot of places that I usually ate at. Later, after finishing the best meal I had had in days, Sally looks straight at me.

"Okay, Mister Surveyor, who are you really?" she says, looking at me intently.

"What?" I exclaim, momentarily caught off guard.

"You heard me. You're no surveyor, and what do you want at the Morgan place?" Sally says, still looking at me.

"What makes you think I'm not a surveyor?" I say, trying desperately to maintain my cover.

"Two things. You flash lots of cash and you're asking about the Morgan place."

"What is it about the Morgan farm?" I ask, suddenly curious about the place and trying to change the conversation.

"Well, for one thing they don't produce a damn thing. No crops, no nothing. The other thing is, people have noticed strange things going on there, strange lights at night."

"Strange lights at night?" Could that have anything to do with what I saw in the barn?

"Yeah, so now, who are you, really?" Sally says, looking at me closely.

"Okay, I'm not a surveyor. I'm a private investigator working on a case. My client wants me to look the Morgan place over."

"Really!" Sally says in mock amazement. "Now what does a big city detective want with a little farm in the middle of nowhere?"

"I can't say. Can you tell me more about the mysterious lights?"

"Did your client send you to investigate that?"

"No, but I'm sure he will want to know."

"People have said they've seen mysterious lights in the sky and sometimes a glow in the fields far off the road."

"How often do these lights appear?"

"I dunno, maybe once or twice a month, late at night, after midnight."

"I want to see them if I can."

"That could be difficult. We could try tonight. Fortunately, I work the evening shift tomorrow."

"When?"

"After I go home and change. I suggest the same for you. I'll meet you at the hotel."

Sally meets me later that night and we drive out to the Morgan place. She parks the truck off the road and we walk towards the farm. I see activity around the barn and hope that I may get lucky. We hide in the grasses, watching the men going in and out of the barn for several hours.

Eventually Sally says, "I'm tired of this. How much longer do we gotta stay like this?"

"Patience. Ninety-nine percent of detective work is waiting and watching."

"What's the one percent?"

"You don't want to know," I deadpan.

Just then some of the men get into the trucks and drive off into the fields.

"Let's go!" I cry out, grabbing her hand.

"What's going on? Let go of me!"

"We gotta follow them, c'mon!"

Together we run through the field, following the headlights. Finally we come to a ridge and see the trucks below them.

"Stay here, get down! We'll wait here."

"Wait for what?" Sally cries out.

"Quiet! The lights, hopefully."

We didn't have to wait long. After a short time a strange craft appears in the sky and lands before the trucks in their headlights.

"What is that thing?" Sally cries out loud.

"Shh! Quiet! I don't want them to notice us. So this is where they get their stuff from, the stuff in the warehouses."

"The what?"

"Later!" I hissed.

We both stay hidden in the grass for an hour or so, observing the men unloading the strange ship. Finally they're done and the glowing ship rises in the air and flies off into the sky. They get into the trucks and drive back to the farmhouse.

"C'mon! Let's go!" I cry out, grabbing her arm. Together we run back to Sally's truck and start back to town.

"What the hell was that?" Sally shouts while driving down the road.

"The stuff that gets delivered to warehouses and gets hooked up to chambers where things that aren't human are in. My client is a booze runner and apparently these beings have been using his trucks to deliver this stuff without him knowing. Then he found out and they killed him. And others who tried to find out the truth. Yours truly included."

"Now what, Mister private eye?" she asks nervously.

"I leave tomorrow. I've gotten all the information I can get. And you tell no one about this for your own protection. Understand?" I say, looking seriously at her. Just then I glance in the mirror and I see headlights in the distance behind them. "Any reason for someone to be out this late? There's a car behind us. Turn right at the next intersection."

"But the town is the other way!" she cries out.

"Just do it! I want to see if we're being followed."

The truck turns at the intersection and I see the lights of the other car following us.

"Is it still behind us?"

"Yes," I say nervously.

"What do we do now? If they catch us will they kill us?"

"Probably. We have one chance." I then show her the gun in my jacket.

"You're going to shoot them? You're crazy!"

"It's them or us. How good are you driving without your headlights on?"

"What?! We'll be killed!" Sally cries out, panic in her voice.

"Just do it when we go over the next rise! I'm hoping we may disappear from their view for a few seconds."

"Okay, here goes nothing!"

Sally kills the headlights and the truck plunges into darkness. Fortunately, she is able to stay on the road somehow. The moon gives them some light when it comes out from behind the clouds, helping her to see the road. The other car was still behind them, but further back than before. Did they lose sight of them?

"Up ahead, on the left, a dirt road. See it?"

"No!"

"I do. Turn left when I tell you and slow down for a few seconds. Then go on ahead. I'll be jumping out."

"You're crazy!" she cries out.

"Just do it! Now! Turn left and slow down for a second!"

She slows for a moment and I jump out of the truck, my feet twisting under me, making my shoulder hit the ground. Not like in the movies, I think, wincing from the pain. Sally continues down the road. The other vehicle goes by slowly, the driver apparently trying to see where we went. The car drives past, stops, and then backs up to the dirt road.

Dammit, I think. They must've caught a glimpse of her! I have only one chance and only a few seconds to do it. Jumping up, I ran to the car, firing rapidly at the window. My first shot misses, but the second must've hit the driver since the car swerves suddenly. It runs into a ditch and stops. I dash towards it and fire several more shots through the window, then peer inside to see if they are dead. Satisfied that they are, I run down the road to Sally while gripping my sore shoulder. I see her truck stopped a short distance ahead. Jumping inside, I shout "Drive!" to the frightened woman.

"What happened? Are they dead?" she manages, half scared out of her wits.

"Yes, now get us back to town."

"Your shoulder," she says, seeing me rub it. "you're hurt."

"I'll be ok. We gotta get back to town and get the hell outta here. You too. They've seen your truck, so now you're in danger too. I got money at the hotel. We drive as far away as we can and then get on a train. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this, but you can't go back. It's not safe."

At the hotel, I ran inside to get my stuff and then back to the truck. As we drive away I can see a car pull up at the hotel and several men get out. That was close, I think.

Neither one of us says much as we drive on in the darkness. In the morning I fill it up and we grab a quick breakfast before continuing on. My shoulder feels better, so we take turns driving while the other rests. The next day we reached a small town and headed for the train station. I ditch the truck in a lot and together we get on a train back to the city.

Two days pass and we finally arrive and check in at a nearby hotel. Exhausted from our ordeal, we both collapse on the beds.

"Now what, Mister Surveyor?" Sally asks sarcastically.

"I gotta make some rounds, You stay here, don't go anywhere, don't open the door for anyone except me. I'll knock three times. Got it?"

"Yeah."

Figuring that Sally is safe for the moment, I head to my office. Arriving, I see two men across the street, both reading newspapers and occasionally glancing at the building entrance. Fortunately I know another way in the back and head up the stairs. The hallway is empty and the matchstick is on the ground. Listening at the door, I hear nothing and slowly open it.

The office is empty, but ransacked just as I expected. I get some bullets out of the drawer and reload my gun. I put some more in my pocket. I slowly peer out the front door. The hallway is still clear, so I leave the same way I came in. Outside the men are still there. I slip away and hail a cab.

I return to the hotel where Sally is waiting. After knocking three times, she opens the door a crack to make sure it's me. Satisfied, she opens the door and I walk in.

"Well, what's going on, Mister Surveyor?" she asks nervously.

"They're onto me. Two men were waiting outside my office. I didn't go to my place because I figured there would be some there too." Opening up my coat I take out an envelope and start putting twenties on the table in front of Sally, who watches with wide eyes.

"Here's five hundred bucks. That's all I have now. Take it and leave. Get on a train and get as far away from here as you can. Find someplace nice and have a nice, long peaceful life. I'm sorry I dragged you into this, but it's too dangerous for you here. I don't know what we're up against, but it's not safe for you to be with me."

Sally looks at the money on the table, more money than she has ever seen in her life. This could really set her up, she thinks. Then she looks at the man across the table from her, a stranger to her until a few days ago.

"What, what if I don't want to go?" she stammers.

I look at her. "Are you crazy? After all you've been through I'd think you would be glad for a chance to high-tail it out of here. I know I've had the same thoughts too."

"Why don't you?" Sally says quietly,

"I don't know. Maybe because I got a job to do and I never leave a job undone."

"Well, maybe I can feel the same way." she replies quietly. "Because of what I see."

"What's that?" I ask slowly.

"I see a man who has never let anyone get close to him. Used the excuse of his job to avoid relationships, never let his personal feelings get in the way."

"And you?"

"A middle-aged woman stuck in a dead end job in a dead end town, surrounded by people who can't see beyond the end of the row they're plowing. You've shown me something different."

"We make quite a pair, don't we?" God, what am I getting myself into? I think. "Okay, first things first. You look a mess. You need to get some clothes and then we'll get something to eat. Then I gotta meet someone."

The cab drops us off at an estate on the edge of town. I talk to the man standing outside who takes my gun. After a few minutes two more men appear. They guide Sally and me inside. Sally looks in awe at all the ornate furnishings inside. We follow them to a room in the back where a man sits in a chair behind a desk. One of the men puts my pistol on the desk before the seated man and then they both leave us.

"Welcome back, my favorite gumshoe! Have a seat," Van Horneer says, pointing at two chairs in front of him. "I hope you found out what's going on out there. And who is this young lady?" he asks, looking at Sally intently.

"This is Sally. I met her at the town where the Morgan farm is located. She helped me out there."

"Hello," she says nervously. "Are you a gangster, Mr. Horneer?"

Horneer chuckles at this. "I prefer to call myself a businessman who supplies a product that's in high demand. But what is important now is what you discovered at the Morgan farm."

"You wouldn't believe it!" Sally exclaims. "We went there late at night and saw this big, glowing ship come out of the sky and land on the ground. Then they started taking stuff out of this ship and loading it in trucks."

"That's right. It was the same stuff I saw in the barn and warehouses. And that's not all. We were chased by some goons after we left the farm. I was able to take care of them and we managed to get away. They're also onto me. My office is being watched and I figure my place too. We're staying in a hotel across town."

"I'll set you up here. I have better security. Do you need to get anything?"

"Just a few things, we left in a big hurry," Sally says nervously.

"I'll have one of my guys take you two there and then bring you back here. Then we start planning our next move." Reaching over his desk, Horneer hands the pistol back to me. "Keep this, you may need it."

Horneer presses a button on his desk and a man comes into the room. As he walks toward them, he reaches into his jacket, pulls out his gun and points it at Horneer. Sally screams as the man fires, startling him. The bullet barely misses Horneer, hitting the back of the chair. She screams again as the man fires again, this time hitting him in the chest.

I pull my gun out and fire twice. The first shot misses the gunman, but the second hits him. He staggers backwards. I quickly fire two more rounds and he falls dead to the floor. Just then the door flies open and two of Horneer's men burst into the room with their guns drawn. I quickly raise my hands in the air, crying out, "Don't shoot, don't shoot!" while Sally screams in terror in the corner.

"What's going on here?!" one man cries out, rushing to Horneer, slumped over his desk.

The other runs over to me, jerks the gun out of my hand and pushes me against a wall with his gun pressed against my head. "What happened?!"

"One of your guys tried to kill us!" I shout out, feeling the gun barrel against my temple.

"It's true," Horneer mumbles to the man bending over him.

The man holding me relaxes his grip, but keeps his pistol pointed at me. I slowly move over to comfort Sally who is in hysterics.

"Who is that guy?" the man helping Van Horneer shouts out, pointing at the body on the floor.

"I don't know, some new guy," the man holding the gun on me exclaims.

"Find out who brought him in. I want to know every detail. He must be a plant!" he shouts while stuffing a handkerchief into Horneer's bleeding chest.

The rest is a blur. More men come in. The ambulance arrives and takes Horneer to the hospital. I finally manage to calm Sally down and they take us to another room in the basement with just a table and chairs in it. I didn't like the look of it and I knew I would have to play my cards very carefully. Thankfully, Sally is still in shock and stays quiet. Two men stay with us and then the man who helped Horneer comes in with blood still on his shirt. I didn't like his expression.

"What's the situation? Is Van Horneer going to be okay?"

"You can call me Mr. Smith," he says sternly.

"Will he be okay, uh, Mr Smith?"

"I don't know yet. It's pretty serious. What I want to know is what your part in this is."

"I'm a private investigator. I'm working for Van Horneer and I just came back from a job he sent me on. I'm investigating the death of Humphrey Dumphrey. I discovered suspicious activity at two of your places and he sent me to check out a place that seemed strange. That's when I met Sally here. She's innocent; she helped me out at the farm. Then the guys at the farm tried to kill us and I had to bring her with me. I had just gotten back to inform Horneer when that guy tried to kill us.

"We saw a glowing ship that came down from the skies and they took stuff out of it, the same stuff I saw in your warehouses." That made him sit up and take notice.

"You mean an airplane?" Smith says sarcastically.

"No, it wasn't an airplane!" Sally exclaims, "It hovered and then landed. That's when they started to take stuff off of it."

"What kind of stuff?" Smith asks.

"I don't know, but it's the same stuff I saw in your warehouses and it definitely has nothing to do with whiskey. Apparently they're using your trucks and warehouses to ship their stuff around the country. Ask Warner, your accountant. He pointed it out to us. And that's not all. The Feds are involved and I think Dumpfrey was silenced because he found out."

"The Feds? Really?" he says incredulously.

"Yeah. Also, my place is being watched by them now. Horneer was going to set us up here when your man started shooting. It's my guess there may be more like him here."

That concerned Smith, I could tell. He whispers something to one of the other men, who leaves the room quickly.

"Anything else?"

"No."

He looks at both of us for several seconds with a dead serious look. Finally, he speaks up, "Okay, this goes against my better judgment but I'm not going to kill you. At least not now. I'm gonna put you two in a room with guards outside. Behave and you'll be okay. Don't, and, well …" Then he looks at me. "You and I are going to have a long talk later," he says sternly.

He rises and we follow him to a room upstairs. Inside the room I tell Sally it'll be okay, to just sit tight. As he closes the door, I once again consider what I've gotten myself into.

A while later some guy comes to our room and motions me to come with him. I reassure Sally, saying it's okay, that I'll be right back. We go to an office where Mr. Smith is sitting behind a desk, talking on the phone. He points to a chair where I sit down, thinking I'd better be careful here. After a few minutes he hangs up and stares at me.

"Ok, we're going to have that long talk now. I want to know everything. And I mean everything."

I spent the next hour telling him what had happened to me, the strange warehouses, the poisonous gas and the strange figure in the chambers. Finally I finish and he leans back in his chair and stares at me for several seconds.

"You're telling me that creatures from space are here and using our organization to move their stuff around for some unknown reason and the government is involved? What kind of fool do you think I am?"

"Just go to the warehouse on Broad street and see for yourself. It's all in there," I reply.

This makes him stop to think. I sit back to catch my breath and try to figure a way to make him believe my crazy story. I look at the ashtray full of butts. Something strikes me as odd while I stare at it.

"You find my ashtray fascinating?" he says, looking intently at me.

"Some of the butts look familiar."

"Really? You're not helping your case much with this."

"It's just that some look like the ones I found where Dumphrey was killed and also at the Hill. I think the guy who smoked them was here recently. He tried to get me off the case. I refused and the next day someone is taking potshots at me in a diner. He's tall, gaunt and chain smokes. I call him Cigarette Man."

"So, you're saying this guy was there when Dumphrey was killed? Do you have any proof?"

"Just the butts, I saved some and left them in my office."

"You said your office was ransacked. Do you think the butts are still there?"

I think about that for a moment. "I don't know what they were looking for. At least I hope so."

"Okay, even if the butts match we still don't know anything about this guy."

"What about the warehouse on Broad Street?"

"We'll go check it out. Can you get those cigarette butts from your office?"

"The place is being watched. I got in once without being noticed. I'd have to go alone."

This makes him think some more. "Okay, I'll have some guys drop you off a few blocks away. You get in and get what you need without being noticed. Run and your girlfriend is a goner. Got it?"

"She has no part in this!"

"That's the deal, take it or leave it. And I hope for your sake the butts match."

We drove downtown and past my office. I see one guy standing outside like before. I tell the driver to turn down a street and stop a few blocks away. I get out, hoping that they don't see me, and walk down to the alley behind my building. I go inside to the stairs and start quietly climbing them when I see a shadow moving on the wall at the top.

I quickly drop down and move slowly up the stairs, trying to stay out of sight. I see someone standing in the hallway where he can see my door. Great, I think. Even if I had a gun, the noise would alert the other lookout. I could try to outwait him, but the men in the car will think I ran and Sally is a goner. I have one desperate idea.

Going down one flight I see the hallway is empty. I walk down it and try the doors at each office. They're all locked except for one. I hear the sound of typing inside. Someone is working late, a secretary I wonder? I open the door and the woman typing at the desk starts to scream, but I rush over and put my hand over her mouth to stop her.

"Shh, shh," I say quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to use your fire escape. Some men are looking for me and I don't want them to know. Please don't scream and everything will be fine."

She is terrified, but nods okay. I loosen my hand and she stays quiet.

"Where is your fire escape window?"

She points to a room that we go into and I open the window.

"Okay, that's fine. I'll be going now, just go back to your work and everything will be fine." She nods slowly and I head up the escape to the next floor, hoping that the window to my office isn't locked shut.

Reaching my office, I check one window and see it's locked. Fortunately the other isn't and I slowly climb through it. I walk over to the desk and open the drawer. The envelope with the cigarette butts is still in it. I stuff them in my coat and look at the papers strewn across the floor, hoping to find something useful. I see a paper with strange symbols on it. I pick it up and it is one of the chemical formula sheets I had stolen from the warehouse. I stuff that also in my coat and decide that's all I'm going to get.

I climb back out the window, close it and then go quietly down the escape and head out the alley to the street. My ride is still waiting for me a few blocks down.

"We were about to give up on you," the driver says, grinning as I get in.

"I have the stuff your boss wants," I reply. "Let's go."

Back at the estate, I hand the envelope with the cigarette butts in it and the page with the chemical formulas to Mr. Smith. He looks at the butts in the envelope and compares them with the one in the ashtray. They match.

"This is what I got out of that one warehouse that had the gas leak," handing him the paper with the chemical formulas on it. "I think you'll find it very interesting."

"Okay, one more detail," Smith says. "We're going to the warehouse on Broad Street."

We drove to the warehouse where I first saw the canisters and stuff being loaded onto trucks. But this time things looked strange. The place looks empty! No trucks, no guards, no nothing!

"Is this the place?" Smith says menacingly.

"Yes! But everything is gone!" I run to the doors but they are all locked or chained shut, just like the other warehouse.

"So, where is all this outer space stuff that you said was here?"

"I don't know! Can you shoot this lock off so we can get in?" I say pointing at the lock on a door.

Smith motions to one of his men who pulls out a pistol and fires it at the lock several times. He takes the lock off and opens the door. We go inside to find an empty warehouse. Swept clean like the other one. I go over to the sealed off area and it is empty too.

Smith is standing in the middle of the warehouse with an annoyed look on his face. "Okay, where is everything? I'm beginning to lose my patience," he says, an annoyed tone in his voice.

"They removed everything, just like the other warehouse I checked out. This place has been swept clean."

"Looks to me like it's been abandoned for a while."

"No, wait, look," I say pointing at a desk by the wall. I run my finger over it. "Look! No dust. Clean! This place was in operation until recently and they shut it down for some reason, probably because they thought their cover was blown."

This makes Smith think as he walks around, examining the bare space. "Okay, I'll grant you something funny is going on here. What, I don't know, but I still don't completely buy your story about spacemen."

"Do you have any other places we can check out," I ask hopefully.

"Yeah, two more."

We drove to another warehouse across town. This place is abuzz with activity. The guard recognizes Mr. Smith and lets us in. All around us people are moving crates. Some are open and they are putting bottles into them and loading them onto trucks. It looks like a normal bootlegging operation.

"Well, see anything wrong?"Smith asks sarcastically.

"No," I replied dejectedly. "Everything looks normal enough here."

"We have one more place to go to, an hour out of town. This is your last chance," Smith says dangerously.

An hour later we approached a building in the middle of nowhere. Trucks are moving around it and the place is busy. It seems normal enough, but it feels different to me. I advise them to park some distance away and we approach carefully on foot.

"This had better be good," Smith says as we walk through the field.

We approach the building and everything seems normal enough, but something is different, I can tell.

"Can you smell it?" I ask Smith.

"Smell what? I don't smell anything," he says tiredly.

"Exactly, no smell of alcohol. You could smell it at the other place. Let's get closer, just you and me."

He motions to the other men to stay put and the two of us move carefully toward the building. Closer, I see the usual operations. We move around the warehouse. In the back I see some stairs leading up to the roof.

"Follow me," I say and we move quietly to the stairs. Up on the roof we look through the skylights to the floor below. I see the same operation as I saw at the other warehouses. Through one skylight I can see the sealed off area with the chambers, just like the others. I motion Smith to come over.

"What the hell!" he exclaims, looking down. "What are those things?"

"Those are the chambers that I saw in the other place. They hook up the canisters to them and something's inside them that doesn't look human."

"Jesus," he says, stunned by what he sees. "It's true, everything you said."

"This was at the warehouse that was cleaned out," I say.

"And they're using our trucks and our operation to ship stuff like this all over the country. What's the Feds deal with this?"

"I don't know, but this looks big."

He stares intently at me for several seconds and then exclaims, "We gotta get out of here and back to my place. I gotta make some calls."

We leave the building and head back to the estate while I wonder what I'm doing here.

Bio: I have submitted other stories for Aphelion as well as Schlock! webzine. I have stories published in the anthologies: Of Poets, Spies and Unearthliness, A Dickensian Steamfantasy—A very different 1800's, and, Exomoons—Natural and Unnatural Astronomical Bodies Orbiting Strange Planets, by Rogue Planet Press. I am now fully retired and I can now write in my new home.

E-mail: Randolph Stuart

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