"035 (B071) - Murder Mirage (1936-01) - Laurence Donovan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Doc Savage said nothing. His corded tendons flexed in his wrist and the mighty column of his neck. One bronze hand lifted the blue stone of the Himyarite warning. The glowing color seemed to intrigue the giant adventurer.
"This is all too incredible to be believed!" crackled the voice of Carson Dernall. "There must be some logical explanation."
"If there is, it will be found," announced Doc Savage.
Chapter VI. ANALYZING THE STONE
DOC SAVAGE'S bronze hands slid the glowing blue Himyarite stone of warning into a flat, shallow-edged pan. With his sleeves rolled back, the giant of bronze compelled admiration in the golden eyes of Lady Fotheran.
Doc's arms were incredibly thewed. Cords lay like bundles of taut wire under the smooth skin. As he worked there was a constant play and rippling of the muscles.
Doc tried chemicals from several jars. One of these was a powder of sulphide of calcium. To this, Doc added two varieties of mineral salts.
The blue glow of the Himyarite stone turned slowly to purple. Then the stone became vividly red. It was of the color of running blood. The laboratory lights were reflected deep in its surface.
Lady Fotheran and Carson Dernall partly arose from their chairs. They glanced quickly around. Doc Savage was gazing intently at the luridly red stone. His face was a bronze mask. His firm lips were immobile.
Lady Fotheran and Dernall had been startled by a sudden musical trilling. Yet it was not a tune. The erotic sound might have come from the full throat of a rare bird hidden deep in the bush. It touched the notes of the scale, but without harmonious order.
Doc's three companions knew their bronze chief had made some vital discovery. Perhaps it would be in the chemical analysis of the ancient stone. Or it might have been the answer to some other angle of the problem of the murder mirage.
Doc's men did not expect to learn what had been ascertained. The man of bronze had almost unconsciously emitted the rare trilling. He would tell nothing until his theory had been wholly confirmed. If he has guessed wrong, perhaps they would never learn.
WITHOUT a word, Doc whipped out of the laboratory. He picked up the telephone in the outer room. When he had his numberЧthat of the commissioner of policeЧhe spoke quickly.
"Is the store window of the murdered woman being closely guarded?"
"Is that you, Doc Savage?" came the commissioner's voice. "Well, yes. I've just doubled the number of men over there. What do you know about all of this, Doc? They tell me you reached the place ahead of my men."
"I know very little," Doc replied. "But I would suggest your men pick up every person who looks like he might be an Arabian. I can't tell you more now. Two of my men are watching the murder window andЧ"
"That's what you think," interrupted the commissioner. "They were watching the window until an attempt was made to smash it. Now the fellows you call Ham and Monk have disappeared."
Doc's voice did not betray his surprise. "What happened, commissioner?"
"They chased after the youth who attempted the window smashing, cornered him in an alley and were attacked by some gang. Then they were taken away in a sedan."
"Have you arrested any one, as yet?" Doc inquired.
"Not yet, but we've got a straight lead. It's the Whitey Jano boys we're looking for. Two of them were rubbed out the first time that hellish green glow showed up. Then we've got the hand of Runt Davis, Jano's right-hand man. Only Runt won't be much of a right hand for anybody, now."
"Where did that come from?" said Doc, though he was well aware where it had been found.
"Runt seems to have gotten careless with a chopper in an alley, and then he forgot to take his hand with him," said the commissioner. "As soon as we get a line on Jano, we'll start breaking the thing. Jano's apparently moved out of that penthouse of his. But we'll have him before the day's over."
"Thanks for the information," said Doc. "Remember about the Arabs, commissioner. They may or may not be wearing native clothes. If you happen to pick up one, I'd appreciate some conversation with him."
"Arab, you said?" The commissioner growled. "Now that may mean something. We found a dead foreigner with his throat slit in Whitey Jano's penthouse. Inspector Carnahan reported he believed him to be a Turk or an Armenian. I'll look into that."
DOC replaced the instrument and stood for a moment thinking deeply. The mysterious murders were becoming the most involved of any into which he had ever been projected.
The dead man in Whitey Jano's penthouse was added proof of a killing feud between the mobsters and the Bedouins. Apparently the Jano crowd had been on the scenes of all the crimes. It seemed hardly credible that Whitey Jano had suddenly taken on the role of a public protector.
Nor was it acceptable as a theory that the Bedouins, unfamiliar with New York, had set about wiping out the Jano mob.
Doc Savage got another number. This time, his speech in the phone could not have been heard five feet away in his rooms.
A young woman awoke and yawned. This was in a luxurious apartment in the vicinity of Park Avenue. One beautifully fashioned arm stretched from her night garments of lacy silk. She picked up the phone beside her bed.
"Yes?" she intoned, sleepily.
The words in her ear erased all of her indolence. She sat up instantly, swinging her small bare feet to the floor. The young woman was tall, of slender but almost regal proportions. Her most striking feature was her wealth of bronze hair.
This cascaded in a golden mass around her ears. And her eyes were of a golden hue, possessing hidden fire.
"Well, well and well!" she exclaimed. "I'd heard you were in Malaysia, or perhaps it was Yucatan! What weapons shall I bring?"
Doc Savage said into the telephone:
"It isn't that kind of an assignment, Pat. It's something that only one woman could do. You happen to be that woman."
"They all begin that way," said the young woman. "I shall prepare, of course, to be shot, burned at the stake, kidnapped or thrown into some deep, dark river. What is it? I'm practically dressed already."
The young woman was Patricia Savage, cousin to the man of bronze. She had always wanted to join Doc's group of adventurers. Excitement and danger were her greatest and only loves.
Doc occasionally called upon her in cases where a woman could be of assistance. He would not consider her as a regular companion. This would have been too dangerous. Pat conducted a combined beauty parlor and gymnasium in Park Avenue. With this she was highly successful.
The man of bronze was speaking rapidly into the phone. The beautiful Pat was performing a remarkable sleight-of-hand trick. Holding the phone, she was employing one hand to don stockings and shoes. Before Doc has finished speaking she had made good her word. She was practically dressed.
Then Pat replied in a bored tone, "But a chaperon, Doc? Such a sissy kind of a job! Anyway, I shall be well armed!"
Doc said into the phone, "There is no doubt but Lady Fotheran will insist on going to Syria. I shall permit her to accompany us only because I believe it is safer. But just now, other things are of greatest importance. Make careful note of what I tell you."
Pat missed none of his next words.
Then she said, "An ocean flight? I'll love that, Doc. But as a chaperon, of all things!"
Pat Savage replaced the phone. She was an amazing young woman. Within five minutes she was gowned and cloaked. A small but exceedingly efficient automatic pistol reposed in her purse.
"As a chaperon," she murmured, "I wonder who I'm supposed to fight?"
DOC SAVAGE returned to the laboratory.
"I have some news which will require our attention," he stated. "I suggest that you, Lady Fotheran, and Mr. Dernall return to your hotels, for the present. You stop regularly at the Fortescue Hotel, Lady Fotheran. Johnny will see that you reach there safely."
"Could I be of assistance?" said Carson Dernall. "I would like to remain with you, Mr. Savage, until some of this mystery is solved."
"I'm grateful," stated Doc, "but I have a mission requiring personal attention only."