Voodoo Death 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: 1944-06-20T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

FROM beneath the structure of the old-fashioned elevated, a furtive figure detached itself and started rapidly along the street toward MacAbre's house. A huge tumult was raging overhead for a northbound express on the central track was overtaking a local on its right, while another local was coming southward on the left.

In fact, the avenue trembled as if from a man-made earthquake transmitted down the el pillars, and the furtive man shuddered in his turn. Just away from the corner, he dived into the security of a doorway and cringed there in the darkness. It wasn't just because the vibration of the paving reminded him of Voodoo drums; the thought of faces at the windows of those el cars frightened him.

This habitual visitor to MacAbre's preserves could not afford to be spotted in the neighborhood. He had been seen once, the night when Margo Lane had come here and another such episode could spell the end to all his plans for wealth. That was why gray eyes were wide when they peered from the doorway after the trains had rumbled away; wide with the hunted stare that had become indelibly identified with Rex Tarn.

But it would have been impossible to mark the man as Rex when he started along the street again, for he was huddled with his face deep in his raincoat and his eyes, when they gave darting glances, were too hurried to be noted in the light.

All doorways looked suspicious on this dark night. A fog that was weaving in from the river produced fantastic shapes. Lamp-posts, fire-plugs, even house steps seemed to cast their own reflection as if against a misty mirror, producing the effect of lurkers everywhere. Sometimes those figures actually moved, but that could have been charged to the swirl of the fog.

Nevertheless, these things didn't please MacAbre's visitor. He was glad for once when he found himself in the Voodoo professor's preserves. Tonight, MacAbre met him personally in the antique shop and bowed a deep greeting to this black sheep of the Tarn family. Ushering his visitor into the Voodoo chamber, MacAbre closed the door that produced the simulated fire blaze and announced with his most cheerful cackle:

"I have summoned you to complete a pleasant duty; one you will enjoy because it requires no payment of the usual fee, yet will prove to your advantage."

Hunted gray eyes didn't understand.

"This does not concern the Tarn Emerald," explained MacAbre. "It can wait for the next heir-apparent. But meanwhile, there is a certain person whose account must be closed. She has been concerned in matters much too often."

"You - you don't mean Sue?"

"You mean the girl your cousin would like to steal from you?" MacAbre cackled a laugh. "Of course not. Here, identify her for yourself from the face of this image. I would like to know how accurately Fandor and Jeno described her."

Across the flickery artificial logs, MacAbre thrust a shapely waxen effigy into his visitor's hand. Gray eyes reflected horror in the changing

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