Doc Savage Wild 18: The Frightened Fish by Kenneth Robeson

Author:Kenneth Robeson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Action and Adventure
Publisher: Altus Press\Conde Nast Classic Publishing
Published: 2015-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

THE desk clerk at the Imperial Hotel on Ginza Dori was telling them: "Sa, chotto muzukashii desu, ne."

Which meant that securing rooms for them would be difficult.

Doc countered that plea by saying in Japanese: "Difficult. But not impossible, eh?"

The desk clerk professed not to know what was meant.

Doc said "Never mind" and went to make a call to the Tokyo headquarters of the Supreme Commander Allied Powers.

Not many minutes later, the desk clerk received a call from SCAP that caused him to change his tune. Like all major hotels, even when booked solid the establishment kept a room-or-two in readiness for unexpected visiting dignitaries.

Evidently the Bronze Man and his party suddenly qualified for that category because they were promptly given a vacant suite of rooms on the top floor.

Once ensconced in these quarters, Doc Savage began making telephone calls and issuing orders to his men.

Not long after, Ham Brooks and Johnny Littlejohn brought the trunk containing the sedated W.J. Tsumi up to their suite. At Doc's suggestion, they had gone back to the Helldiver to retrieve him.

"Where do you want this fellow, Doc?" Ham inquired after they unceremoniously dropped the trunk on the floor.

The Man of Bronze came over to the trunk … unlatched it … and exposed W.J. Tsumi's fear-struck, toad-like face. The latter's wrists were bound together high on his chest. And his mouth was stuffed with a handkerchief whose green gaudiness proclaimed itself to be Monk Mayfair's property.

Doc undid the gag.

"Are you ready to talk?" he asked.

"Hee," Tsumi said tersely, shaking his head stubbornly.

"For your information, we are in Tokyo," Doc told him. "The situation is very bad here. All the fish have fled the waters. No one seems to understand why and the people are frightened. Care to enlighten us on Max Wood's role in this?"

W.J. Tsumi absorbed Doc Savage's words. The defiance leaked from his expression.

His eyes were clear now, the truth serum having worn off. A variety of expressions (chiefly puzzlement and concern) chased themselves across his unlovely features.

Finally, Tsumi declined the Bronze Man's offer with the more polite Japanese term for no.

"Chigau, domo," he whispered. His voice was subdued.

Monk made of show of cracking his rusty knuckles as he said: "Want me to work him over, Doc?"

"No," Doc said thoughtfully.

He restored the gag. Then he checked Tsumi's bonds for tightness, loosening them a little to alleviate any hampering of blood circulation.

Noting this, Monk Mayfair scratched his head. He seemed about to speak up when his attention was drawn to the windows.

Down on the street, a chorus of shouting reached all the way up to their suite.

"Wa-Shoi! Wa-Shoi! Wa-Shoi!"

Ham Brooks went to the window and shoved it up. He poked his well-tonsured head out.

"Looks like a parade," he mused. "What's that they're shouting?"

Joining him, Johnny Littlejohn offered a different opinion.

"That is no parade," he pronounced, "but a trade union demonstration. They seem to be striking."

"I see a lot of those red towels," Monk added. "That jabber they're shouting -- what's it mean?"

"Nothing really," Johnny told him.

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