Кеннет Робсон - Death in Silver

Doc and Monk waved McCoy and Pace back when the pair would have followed them into the Laboratory. Ham gave them a well-bred frown when he saw their dripping garments.

"I knew I would miss out on some excitement!" he said peevishly.

Doc questioned, "Did you have any luck with your end?"

"I followed the orders you gave before you and Monk started out in the speedboat," Ham replied. "A fine job I had, too, digging up old sanitation maps of the city at that hour of the night!"

"What did you learn?" Doc demanded.

Ham picked up a rolled map which reposed on the writing desk.

"You can see it on here," he said. "But I can tell you just as well. Up until 15 years ago, a large drainage pipe ran under the waterfront section of Brooklyn and emptied into the Fast River. It was abandoned 15 years ago. Not taken up, mind you, because that was too expensive. It was merely abandoned."

Doc said, "It ran in the neighborhood of the Indian Head Club?"

"Right under the Indian Head Club, to he exact," Ham stated.

"Dag-gone!" Monk gulped. "This is beginning to shape up! The Silver Death's-Heads had opened a passage into that old pipe. That's why they blew up the Indian Head Club — to keep us from finding the pipe and the secret passage!"

"But what did they use the abandoned drain pipe for?" Ham pondered aloud.

"To get to their submarine," Monk grunted.

Ham had secured a new sword cane from a supply of the unique weapons which he kept in his apartment at a fashionable club. He picked the weapon up, twirled it slowly, eying Monk the while.

"That brick — which cracked you when the Indian Head Club blew up — must have done some damage after all," he said dryly. "You sound even crazier than usual. Submarine! Bosh!"

Monk scowled. "Listen, shyster! There was a submarine in the river tonight. Or at least some craft that went under the water. What's more, whoever was running it took a potshot at us with what sounded like a 3-inch cannon."

Ham absently unsheathed the blade of his sword cane a few inches, then clicked it back together. Amazement sat his features.

"You are serious about this submarine business?" he asked earnestly.

"It may sound wild," said Monk. "But it is the truth!"

Doc Savage put in, "You will recall that it was a 3-inch shell which killed Paine L. Winthrop yesterday afternoon. Later, 2 men — who were in a position to see the submarine — were killed. I mean the fisherman and the aviator, of course."

"Murdered to keep the existence of the submarine a secret," Monk mumbled.

"I say!" Ham queried sharply. "Do you mean that these Silver Death's-Heads came into New York harbor underwater and reached the Indian Head Club through that abandoned drainage pipe?"

"That is not at all impossible," Doc assured him. "And now, Ham, did you learn anything about a scientist named Ull?"

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Drilling his sword cane with his eyes, Ham said, "This fellow must be Don Ull, alias Ellis Nodham, alias Professor O'Donald, alias a flock of other names. He served a term in Sing-Sing for manufacturing pineapples for gangsters. In the United States Patent Office, he has over a dozen electrical inventions registered — some of them extremely clever."

"He was technician for a concern manufacturing poison gas during the War, which means he was a skillful chemist. He once designed a patented 2-man submarine. And he is an expert on diving apparatus, having patented one of his creations. I talked to a dozen men who had known him in the past. And everyone said Ull was as crooked a snake as ever lived!"

"Whew!" Monk exploded. "The fellow seems to be a jack-of-all-trades."

"Think what a clever rascal the mastermind behind Ull must be!" Ham said.

Monk looked grim and stated, "That reminds me. How-in-blazes did the Silver Death's-Heads know we were going to be on the river?"

"Probably had men shadowing us," Ham retorted. "Now what I want to know is what did you find in the river?"

"A tin box," Monk told him. "A tin box soldered waterproof and filled with black insulating compound, wires, and vacuum tubes."

Ham demanded, "What was it?"

Instead of answering, Monk turned around and faced the door of the Receptionroom. In there, the telephone buzzer was whining .

Doc leaped to the door. Rapid Pace was reaching for the phone.

"I'll take it," Doc said and scooped up the instrument.

A voice remindful of a squealing rat said, "I wanta talk to a guy named Doc Savage."

"You have him now," Doc replied. "What is it?"

"A dame throwed a note out of a window," whined the rodent voice. "The note said some mugs had kidnapped her and for me to call you for help. And you'd pay me plenty to show you where she was bein' held."

"Was there a name signed to the note?" Doc questioned sharply.

"Yeah. It was 'Pat'." The squeaking took on a more uneasy quality. "Listen, Mister, step on it! I'm kinda worried. I dunno but what some guys are followin' me! I sorta thought they was a time-or-two."

"Where are you?" Doc rapped.

"In an all-night drug store at the corner of Stein and Decker Streets. I'll wait here … " The ratty voice broke off sharply in an excited gasp.

There followed a tense dozen seconds of silence. When the squeaking tone resumed, it was stark with terror!

"Oh hell, Mister! I'm on the spot!" it choked. "Them fellers that was followin' me just came in. They're them Silver Death's-Heads! They're runnin' for this phone booth … "

The rodent voice began to scream . Glass crashed and wood broke as if the phone booth doors had been smashed in. Ugly thumps coming over the wire sounded like blows.

A voice that was unmistakably Ull's said, "It is fortunate that we saw this fellow loitering about the spot where we were holding the 2 women. I believe he was up to something."

"What's we do wit' 'im?" asked another voice.

"Take him to the place where the 2 women are," said Ull.

Then the distant telephone receiver was placed on its hook.

Ull glared at the receiver after he hung it up. In his all-enveloping silver garment, UII made an ominous figure. And the heavy submarine gun in his left hand detracted no whit from his fierce aspect.

Behind Ull, 2 silver -cloaked men were pointing guns at a drug store clerk who was so frightened that he was on the point of fainting.

2 more silver men gripped a scrawny, pinch-faced fellow who was also badly scared.

"Lemme loose!" whined the prisoner in a rat-squeal voice. "I ain't done nothin'!"

"Lay off the jaw music," he was ordered harshly.

Ull directed loudly, "Everybody out!"

One of the pair guarding the clerk held up a hand, said, "Wait a minute, Boss. I got a headache. Let's see if I can find something that's good for it."

"Hurry up, then!" Ull snapped.

The silver man who claimed he had a headache began a rapid scrutiny of the drug store display shelves. He showed scant consideration for the stock, sweeping bottles off the shelves. He seemed to take an unholy joy in doing as much damage as he could.

He came to an array of vaseline in jars and tubes. These he upset. Then he trampled over the litter, and his weight forced the pale petroleum jelly from the tubes and jars and smeared the whole mess over his shoe soles.