THE JADE DRAGON by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-11-14T23:18:04+00:00

CHAPTER XII. FORCED MURDER

BEFORE Margo could gasp a warning to Royce, he heard the clatter at the door and turned. By then, there were more than two Chinese. There were four, spreading in fan-wise, with their leveled guns.

Margo saw Royce’s hand dip to his smock pocket, then twist away and come upward into sight.

He was armed, but he couldn’t hope to beat four marksmen to the shot, even though they were the sort who made a fetish of wasting their first trigger tug on an empty cartridge chamber. At least, Royce accomplished something; by deftly diverting his hand, he managed to cover the fact that he had his own gun in his pocket.

Margo’s hands were coming up, too. They didn’t lift automatically, like Royce’s. Her arms, already tired by the weight of the bangles, almost refused to budge Margo finally brought her hands shoulder high and held them there. Hopelessly, she thought of her own gun, tucked away in the handbag so far from reach.

More than she even realized, Margo was the center of the show. Royce had focused lights upon the platform, to make the jewels glitter to the full. The rest of the studio was comparatively dim, and the Chinese, acting as they had at Dayland’s, were keeping to the darkness. Their faces, as Margo saw them, were scarcely more than yellow blurs.

While one held Royce covered, another stole up behind him and prodded the artist with a gun. Royce stepped back as though the weapon drew him, and while Margo was viewing the odd effect, she was treated to it, too.

A Chinese slid right in back of her and nudged her with his revolver. But Margo’s back steps were stopped by a forward shove. They wanted her off the platform and over by the table.

Other Chinese were peering in from the doorway, grinning at what they saw. Margo realized that they were guarding the stairway to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed. One thing, however, was evident: from the way the Chinese eyed the gems that Margo wore, they seemed to believe that the jewels were real. The quicker Margo let them take the imitations, the sooner this ordeal would be over, and the less chance that they would discover the falsity of the gems.

So Margo extended her hands, inviting the Chinese to come and get the rings she wore. Two men bounded forward and grabbed at them. Margo was tempted to double her fists and let them have the rings, brass-knuckle fashion, for their heads were bowed and their chins conveniently at hand. But that would have settled only two of them, even if Margo’s punches had scored.

Flinging the rings into the open satchel, the two Chinese clutched Margo’s shoulders and swept their hands right down her arms, carrying bangles and bracelets in a metallic clutter. They were banging those into the satchel, too, when Margo realized that a gun was no longer pressing her. But it was only because the man behind her was unhooking the jeweled belt.

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