Part 3 (1/2)
They rode an elevator to the top floor, strode down a corridor carpeted as richly as Doc's own office, andpunched a doorbell.
The door opened.
Monk took one look inside. He emitted a resounding groan, and covered his eyes dramatically with his hands.
”Take it away!” He wailed in mock agony. ”It's so flashy it's hurting my eyes. It's going to blind me!”
Through the door swung the end of a slender black cane. Monk ceased his dramatics and dodged. The cane barely missed connecting with his head.
The man with the cane stepped out as if to take a fresh swing. He was a slender man, thin-waisted as a wasp. He had a sharp nose and a pair of intent eyes. They were the eyes of a quick thinker.
The outstanding thing about the fellow was his clothing. His garb was the absolute ultra in sartorial perfection.
Ham was famous for his clothes, wearing them with a grace that could hardly be duplicated.
Monk retreated, chuckling. The fact that there was a mystery underfoot, and that a man had just been kidnaped downstairs, had not kept him from flinging a dig at Ham. Even the stress of trouble could not stop his good-natured baiting of Ham.
Ham's black cane looked innocent enough. Actually, it housed a blade of fine steel. It was a very efficient sword cane.
Doc explained what had occurred-the visit of Velvet to the office, the decoying of John Acre to the Midas Club, and the kidnaping. He ended with: ”Know anything about it, Ham?”
”Not a thing,” Ham declared.
”But why did they use this address?” Monk demanded.
”It was clever on the fake newspaper reporter's part,” Doc decided aloud. ”He gave Ham's address, in case the man he was deceiving might check up. I often visit Ham here. It was logical to suppose I might wish to meet him here.”
Monk scratched his jaw, his head, and ended up by putting the tip of his little finger through the bullet hole in his ear.
”How in blazes are we going to find out what this is all about?”
”There's the steams.h.i.+p Junio,” Doc said. ”John Acre arrived on it tonight. Apparently he sent the messages from on board.”
Doc went to the telephone and dialed a number. He spoke into the instrument for some seconds. His voice was so low that Monk and Ham did not catch the words. Then he hung up.
”I got in touch with the captain of the Junio ,” he explained. ”Here's a strange one: The Junio's radio operator is a fellow named Coils. He disappeared a few minutes after the steamer docked. They can't find him anywhere.”
”Where is the Junio from?” Ham inquired.
”From ports on the west coast of South America,” Doc explained.
Ham twirled his sword cane absently. His eyes roved. They came to a rest on the door. It gaped open a crack.
”Who left that door open?” he growled.
He started forward as if to close the panel. The door was ajar hardly more than an inch, but the crack widened suddenly. A businesslike pistol muzzle shoved through.”I'd hate to muss up that pretty suit,” a woman's voice said
HAM wrenched to a stop, his sword cane extended rigidly. He turtled his head forward as if to see who was behind the door.
”Don't strain your eyes!” said the woman's voice. ”I'm coming in.”
She stepped across the threshold.
Monk emitted a great gasp. Monk appreciated a pretty girl. This one made his head swim.
From the waist upward her slender body looked as if it were fitted in a tight skin of gold; below the waist the gold cloth fitted almost as snugly. Her hair was evidently boyish-bobbed. It bulged hardly at all under a plain gold-colored helmet. Her small feet were shod in golden-hued slippers. The whole was a wonderful evening ensemble. The effect was amazing.
Her face had an entrancing beauty which seemed to fit in perfectly with her exotic evening attire.
Monk drew in the breath which his sigh had expelled. He seemed to realize for the first time that the astounding young woman held a gun. It was a big, blue .45-caliber army automatic.
From the gun, Monk looked to the girl's clinging gown. The exotic golden garment exposed just about every ravis.h.i.+ng curve. She carried a costly looking fur evening wrap over her left arm.
No doubt she had entered the Midas Club with the gun concealed under the wrap.
”You gentlemen,” said the girl, ”will put your hands up.”
Her voice was like the ringing of a small bell in the distance. It was pleasant to hear.
”Are you sure you're not in the wrong pew?” Ham asked her. ”We never saw you before.”
The young woman in the stunning, golden evening gown did not answer. She was eyeing Doc.
She seemed fascinated by him. That was understandable. Men, when they saw the astounding physique of the bronze giant, noticed only that. Women, however, were apt to observe that Doc was extremely handsome.
The girl in gold was discovering the latter fact.
A minute pa.s.sed, then another. The striking young woman was still staring at Doc.
Doc Savage slowly lifted an arm. He leveled it, rigid as a metal bar, at the young woman's pert nose. The arm remained fixed, unmoving, pointing.
Monk and Ham exchanged glances in a knowing way. They had been a.s.sociated with Doc Savage long enough to become acquainted with some of the many arts which the bronze man commanded. They knew he was a master of hypnotism, so they understood what Doc's arm-leveling gesture meant.
Doc was hypnotizing the girl in gold.
For the most successful functioning of hypnotism, it is necessary that the subject's attention be fixed on something. It is also very difficult to hypnotize an unwilling patient.
The young woman suddenly awakened to what Doc was doing. She wrenched her eyes from the bronze man's strange golden orbs, and sprang backward. She slapped herself violently in the face.
Monk started forward with the idea of seizing her gun while she was occupied with breaking Doc's spell. But the girl jabbed her weapon at him.”You come a step closer, and I'll blow a hole in that ugly face!” she declared.
”Go ahead,” the sharp-tongued Ham invited her. ”Any thing, even a hole, would be an improvement over the face as it is.”
Monk ignored the insult.
”Where have you taken John Acre?” demanded the girl. Monk and Ham started slightly.