THE BOSS OF TERROR by J.R.A

Author:J.R.A. [J.R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-04-26T23:21:38+00:00

Chapter XI. THE HEIR

THE note from Long Tom Roberts arrived late that afternoon. It had been delayed because it was not even in an envelope; it was merely a sheet of paper, and there was postage due, for there had been no stamp on it in the first place.

It was the note Long Tom had written in the lobby of the building on Broadway.

It simply stated that Long Tom had followed Jonas to the ninth floor of the building.

Twenty minutes later, Doc Savage and the others were standing in the building. Another five minutes were expended in locating the room where Long Tom had met his bad luck.

There were fight signs about. The desk was upset, and one chair had been broken. The microphone, its amplifier, and the loudspeaker in the next room were all in place. So was Long Tom’s listening gadget. The stuff told an understandable story.

"Long Tom got in here to eavesdrop," Doc said thoughtfully. "He was probably surprised by someone who came to talk, using that loudspeaker, to someone in the next room."

Monk picked up a piece of tin. It was like a flattened tube, about two inches long.

"What’s this?" the chemist pondered.

Annie Spain said, "Probably used to disguise a voice. I have a hunch that if one spoke through that, and whispered, too, that the voice would be unrecognizable."

Monk grinned. "That’s such a good guess," he said, "that I almost suspect you of being here."

Ham twirled his cane—the innocent dark cane contained a sword, and he never went without it—and looked thoughtful. He said, "The big point is: Any sign of who did the talking through the loudspeaker—the headman?"

"It couldn’t have been the butler, Jonas, at any rate," Monk said.

"What makes you think so?" Ham demanded.

"Long Tom followed Jonas here, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have come into this room with Jonas here and had time to attach his listening-in device to that door."

"Jonas could have come from the other room to this one."

Doc Savage examined the wastebasket. He found Long Tom’s jug, the small black thing, the shell of which was made of bakelite. The bronze man went to the window, stood looking at the device.

The others did not notice that he had found the little contraption. He did not tell them.

The bronze man’s face was sober, his manner concerned as he moved slowly about the room. Then abruptly—as though there was something important suddenly in his mind demanding immediate action—he left the building. Monk and Ham remained behind.

They found nothing of value, but did discover that fingerprints had been wiped off anything that might have retained them. The rooms had been rented by mail, they discovered, and no one around the building had ever seen the individual who had taken them.

"Doc knew those guys would be too slick to leave any clues," Monk said. "That’s why Doc left. Wonder where he went?"

DOC SAVAGE turned up shortly in the city room of one of the town’s most blatant tabloid newspapers. His entrance created quite a

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