Amaz'n Murder. William Maltese

and soak a rag for Felix’s head,” Carolyne suggested.

      “What kind of rag?”

      “Melanie, can you help your helpless uncle improvise?”

      Headed for a towel in her knapsack, Melanie noticed how the main canvas flap on their radio encasement hung by only one ill-tied strap. That didn’t interrupt her Florence Nightingale mission as much as did the radio part revealed by the breach. “Someone has battered our radio in!”

      For the moment, Felix was forgotten, along with his aching head; Carolyne and Charles performed a mass exodus to Melanie.

      “That young man’s lusting after my niece has really gone too far,” was how Charles judged the situation.

      No way could Melanie think that. Gordon trying to steal a kiss was one thing, but taking his frustration to this extreme was out of the question; he simply wouldn’t have.

      Actually, the radio wasn’t their only means of communication, even though the area had no reception whatsoever for cell phones. “Where’s that ‘satellite gizmo’?”

      The piece of gear in question was a small contraption that Carolyne didn’t really understand, except that it somehow, in an emergency, could be counted upon to bounce not only an SOS off some U.S. satellite but transmit longitude and latitude to would-be rescuers.

      “Gone!” announced Charles after he’d joined the women in a futile search. “Gordon to blame!”

      Melanie remained unsure, admitting only, “Yes, Gordon tried to kiss me. Yes, Teddy knocked the wind out of him. Yes, Gordon’s forced apology sounded less than sincere at the time. On the other hand, his second apology, given me this morning, seemed sincerely genuine.”

      “Felix bonked himself on the back of the head, did he?” Charles offered in alternative. His niece obviously didn’t recognize just how attractive she was, even in her slightly funky, two-week old jungle chic. Teddy, whom Charles still thought not the right fiancé for his niece, might have hit Gordon, but Gordon run amok was more a real example of a man driven to distraction by boiling passion. “Or, maybe Carolyne, or I, sneaked back and did this dastardly deed?”

      “Charles, don’t be ridiculous!” Carolyne insisted.

      “Ms. Super Sleuth sees motives around here, other than physical attraction, does she?”

      “Scientists—and may I remind that you and I are scientists—are supposed to look at things more objectively than the average man on the street,” Carolyne decided.

      “What average man on the street finds himself stranded in the Amazon with all lines of communication severed?”

      “Don’t jump to any conclusions, Charles, before we’ve heard Gordon’s side.”

      “You think Gordon went through all of this bother so he could sit down and explain it to us?”

      “It’s not just Gordon unaccounted for.” Carolyne meant it as an objective let’s wait until all of the alibis are in; Melanie took it differently.

      “My God, where is Teddy?” Melanie managed to deliver with the same emotional emphasis of a scream.

      Her answer was a distinct gunshot.

      “From somewhere near the river,” Charles isolated. He may have some diminished capacities, but his hearing was still good enough.

      Two more shots confirmed.

      “Could be a hunter,” Melanie ventured. Immediately, she argued against it, “Hunting what, though? Hunting where? Far away?”

      “Not far.” Charles had a more experienced ear. “You don’t need much jungle to muffle a sound.” He drew his revolver and checked its load. He’d fought his share of enemies in hostile environments like this one, and he knew the procedure.

      “This isn’t happening,” Melanie decided.

      “Oh, but it is, my dear,” Carolyne disagreed. She, like Charles, had been in predicaments where the only thing between her and safety had been a firearm and her ability to use it with precision. “The worst thing we can do is pretend it’s otherwise.”

      Three to one, they voted to stay put; Melanie was odd-man (woman) out; even Felix, still doubled over with pain, cast his vote with the majority. Concerned for Teddy’s welfare, Melanie was distraught by the decision. When Charles proceeded to make something to eat, his main concern apparently his belly, rather than Teddy’s well-being, Melanie was made more upset.

      Carolyne took it upon herself to explain how the combined voice of experience was preferable to the lone, illogical, but natural, contrary response of Melanie. Firstly, Charles was less callous than he seemed by his concern over whether to serve beef or lamb stew. “The last thing we want is to lower our energy levels,” said Carolyne. “After a morning of expending calories, we have to restock or risk performing at less than optimum when the very best is exactly what’s most demanded of us. We’ve food available, and it behooves us to take advantage of that good fortune. The absence of facts, regarding the real state of our situation, can’t assure us indefinite access to provisions.”

      “Whoever was here, for some reason, didn’t bother scrapping our food supply,” Melanie reminded.

      Carolyne was patient; after all, this sort of thing was new to Melanie, while Carolyne had successfully endured the mutiny of her bearers in the Gobi, as well as assassins in India who had intended an international incident by taking out the English/American botany team at Tumkur. “Maybe, whoever didn’t, because we interrupted him before he finished,” Carolyne suggested. “Maybe, he wasn’t clever enough to see how stealing our food could be as debilitating as smashing our radio. Maybe, a lot of things. If he left us food, he can’t be counted upon to be so obliging within the next hour, day, even week.”

      “Week?” Melanie shouldn’t have been surprised. Without communications to the outside, they were at least that long of a forced march from the Georni Ranch.

      “Now, as to our lopsided vote to stick here,” said Carolyne, “rather than launch an immediate search for Felix’s assailant, or Teddy, or for the source of the gunfire down by the river. It’s a question of not having the faintest notion of the exact whereabouts of any of those. It’s a big jungle, out there, my dear. Look how unsuccessful our concentrated efforts to locate even one Lygodium cornelius, a jungle plant, when any search for Teddy and Gordon would best be accomplished in just that same way: splitting the area into sections, one for each searcher. Except, as individuals, we’re more vulnerable than as a group.” She held up her hand to delay interruption. “We can’t know the assailant will be any the less vindictive to you, or to me, than he was to Felix, and we shouldn’t chance that will be the case. Teddy and Gordon, out there somewhere, know exactly where we are and the way to get to us.”

      “What if Teddy is injured?” Melanie asked, although she still refused to believe Gordon responsible. “What if Gordon is hurt? What if either of them fired those shots to get our attention?”

      “Then, get our attention they did,” Carolyne reminded. “However, their logical follow-up would be more gunfire, in an established rhythm, to indicate shots less likely aimed at an enemy and more likely a signal for help. What have three, erratic shots told us but that someone was off in the direction of the river with a gun? Is he there now? Is he injured, or is his intent to injure? We don’t know, and it’s preferable we do know. Our best bet is to wait until we have a better grasp of our situation. Until then, I suggest, you check your weapon to make sure it’s operational.”

      “I could never shoot anyone,” Melanie prophesied.

      Carolyne’s smile made redundant her, “You may be surprised by what you can do, my dear, if put to the test.” She went to soak a towel for Felix; it was a chore originally assigned Charles, then Melanie, but forgotten by both. If you want something done.…

      They were joined as Melanie, surprised by how hungry she’d been, contemplated seconds from the stew