“How will we know when Pitt gets off?” Daisy asked as the train rattled into motion.
In the echoing din, compounded by the bellowed conversation of their fellow travellers, Alec’s reply was inaudible.It wasn’t something he could shout to her, unlikely as it seemed that anyone could conceivably overhear.
The racket lessened somewhat as the train slowed for the next station. Alec leant over to Daisy and said in her ear, “Don’t get up, but be ready to hop off, both of you.”
Daisy leant over to Lambert and passed on the message.
Alec joined the group of passengers waiting by the door. As soon as it opened, the surge carried him out onto the platform. Keeping a close watch on him, Daisy saw him look to the rear of the train, where Pitt had got on. He took a step back towards the door and beckoned.
Daisy and Lambert jumped up and pushed out against the inward flow of boarders.
“‘Times Square,’” Daisy read the station sign. “I wonder if he can change lines here, or if he’ll just go straight back to Pennsylvania Station.”
Alec did not respond but put out an arm to stop the others following Pitt’s receding figure too closely.
“The announcement said, ‘Change here for … ,” Lambert told her. “But I didn’t get for what.”
“I didn’t even catch the ‘Change here,’” Daisy said.
“Lambert, tie your shoelace!” Alec suddenly ordered.
Lambert glanced down and protested, “It’s not untied!” Then Daisy caught a glimpse of Pitt. The mass of people ahead were parting to pass around him as he paused in the mouth of the exit tunnel to stare back.
The crowd hid him from Daisy again, but Alec snapped, “He’s spotted us—unless something else has alarmed him. Come on.”
“I guess he spotted me,” Lambert said humbly, striding along after Alec with Daisy trotting to keep up. “I guessthat’s why Mr. Fletcher said to tie my shoes. I guess I got a lot to learn about tailing.”
Somehow Alec kept Pitt in sight. They followed the fugitive to Grand Central Terminal, where they almost lost him, and then onto another subway train. The next leg of the chase seemed to go on forever, to the point where Daisy began to wonder whether they were doomed to travel through subterranean tunnels for all eternity.
She also had time to wonder whether Wilbur Pitt had really been the man on the stairs. The horrid possibility dawned on her that she might have recognized his likeness to Carmody rather than to the face briefly seen in the Flatiron Building. How ghastly if Alec was right and they were harassing a respectable citizen!
But why should Pitt flee if he was perfectly respectable?
Daisy recalled her own frightened efforts to escape the thugs who had never materialized. Pitt’s cousin had been murdered, and he was being followed relentlessly by two men he didn’t know. In his shoes, she would have done her utmost to shake off her pursuers, she acknowledged—to herself.
To acknowledge to Alec that she could be mistaken was another matter. After all, she was no more sure she was wrong than sure she was right. If she breathed the slightest doubt, he was bound to abandon the pursuit at once.
And she might be right.
It wouldn’t hurt to find out where Pitt was going, she considered. Time enough then to decide what to do next.
The next station was taking a very long time to arrive. Returning to an awareness of her surroundings, Daisy heard one of her neighbours shouting to his companion,“Yeah, under the East River, right this minute, you betcha. Wunnerful what modern science can do!”
Since she had passed beneath the Thames innumerable times, Daisy was not impressed. She was trying to work out where one would get to by crossing the East River, when she noticed that Lambert’s eyes had widened and his face paled.
“Under the river!” he gasped, staring upward in horror. “Gee whiz!”
“Don’t worry. There have been tunnels under the river in London for ages, and nothing’s ever gone wrong.”
Unconvinced, but his shoulders relaxing a little, Lambert pointed out, “There’s always a first time.” His gaze stayed fixed on the roof of the carriage, as if he expected water to trickle through at any moment, until it became obvious the train was labouring uphill.
Daylight seeped through the grimy windows, and then they were above ground, pulling into a station lit by pale, wintry sunshine.
Alec went to the door. It opened and a nasal voice shouted, “Brooklyn! Everybody out!”
Standing aside, Alec let the other passengers descend first, watching over their heads. Daisy and Lambert joined him.
“I have a good view of the exit,” he explained, “and Pitt has no choice but to get off here.”
