Gems of Jeopardy by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1941-09-18T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER IX. DATED FOR DEATH

ZENA was enraged.

In a cheap furnished room, she sat reading a newspaper account of the sensational events at the Club Bolero. She finally tossed the newspaper aside with a gesture of fury.

She realized that the masked highjacker who called himself Mr. X had not allowed any grass to grow under his feet. He had already started to dispose of his stolen loot. He had tried to sell some of the gems to Frankie Keech.

Zena's eyes gleamed as she realized the hidden meaning behind what had happened.

Mr. X had lost both his satchel of gems and the money, too. The fact that he had been eager to deal with a crook like Keech proved that Mr. X must be broke. Having failed to get away with the cash, he was still broke.

Meanwhile, Frankie Keech might be of considerable help.

Zena glanced at the alarm clock on her bureau. It was past ten o'clock in the morning. Banks would now be open. Zena had important business at one of Manhattan's banks. She was ready to assume her role of Mary Carson.

She took a taxi to the bank. She entered a railed enclosure and calmly identified herself to a bank official.

"How do you do, Miss Carson," the man smiled. "We've been expecting you. An account was opened in your name a month ago by John Selby. I suppose you have heard of his unfortunate death at the hands of a hit-and-run motorist?"

Zena nodded, and muttered a brief word of sorrow. Then:

"How much is in my account? When can I use it?"

"Any time you like. Mr. Selby had placed five thousand dollars to your credit. Of course, you'll have to give me a specimen of your signature, to be compared with the one filed by Mr. Selby when he opened the account for you."

Zena shrugged and picked up a pen. With a bold, brisk hand she wrote the name, "Mary Carson." It matched the signature on the card which the banker produced, It would have been strange if it hadn't. For Zena had written both signatures. The former one had been mailed from Europe to Selby shortly before he had opened the emergency account.

"How much do you wish to draw?" the banker asked.

"Everything."

Shortly, the money, in large bills, was handed over to the smiling Miss Carson.

"Thank you," she said politely, and walked out.

She was still smiling as she took a taxicab. She had plenty to do in the next few hours. She drove to Fifth Avenue and began a tremendous shopping spree.

She went in and out of practically every important shop on the avenue. She bought gowns, coats, stockings, hats. She bought the laciest and most expensive of underthings. She ordered most of it delivered to her hotel. The hotel she named was a fashionable one.

To all of them, Zena told the same story. She was Miss Mary Carson, just arrived by plane from the West. Her baggage had not as yet arrived. She was purchasing a few simple things, pending the arrival of her trunks by train.

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