Dead Men Kill (Stories from the Golden Age) by L. Ron Hubbard

Author:L. Ron Hubbard [Hubbard, L. Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense & Thrillers, adventure
ISBN: 9781592127467
Publisher: Galaxy Press LLC.
Published: 2010-03-02T10:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Loup-garou

IT’S fantastic,” spat Inspector Leonard. “Fantastic, weird and ridiculous! If I didn’t know you better, Lane, I’d say you were lying!”

Lane gave his chief a bleak glance. “You’d think I was lying if I suddenly walked up and choked you to death?”

“Humph! What are you trying to do, scare me?”

“No,” said Lane. “But you wouldn’t be so doubtful if my dead body walked into your office.”

“Bosh!” snapped Leonard. “How about it, Reynolds?”

Reynolds took his pipe out of his mouth and put his feet down on the floor. Absently he tapped the pipe against the gleaming emerald on his finger.

“All I can say is, I pronounced Cramer dead,” he said slowly. “He looked like he’d stay that way, too. Even had embalming incisions on his chest. Lane’s men got his fingerprints and found them again on Morton’s throat.”

“Still,” interjected Lane, “Loup-garou made doggone sure that that woman didn’t talk—Janey Lou, I mean. There must have been something funny about that corpse.”

“You’re wrong,” corrected Reynolds. “When I say a man is dead, he’s dead!”

“Yes,” said Lane, “he’s dead. But how do you account for Cramer’s coming back, then? I even saw a bullet slice into him.”

“Did he fall?” queried the coroner.

“No. He didn’t fall. It turned him around.” Lane wrinkled his face at the recollection. “He turned around and kept right on for the door.”

Reynolds chuckled. “You can’t kill a man twice, can you?”

“Bah!” exclaimed the inspector. “You’re both full of hop. I won’t believe dead men walk until I see it with my own eyes! This human coyote, or whatever he is, is making monkeys out of you!

“It’s just the old hocus-pocus. I’ve got records right now which state that over two million dollars have been extorted from prominent men in this city during the last week. Two million! I’ve seen these things happen before and they’re always directly traceable to some presto-change-o crook. If you let this thing keep up, this Dr. Leroux will own the whole darned town!”

“You’re right about that,” agreed Lane. “I’ve traced every possible lead and there’s no answer. The thing’s driving me crazy!” He glanced hopefully at the coroner. “Say, Reynolds, you’ve been to Haiti. Dig up all the dope you can on zombies for me, will you?”

The jangle of the phone interrupted them. Lane snatched at it as though he was a drowning man and the instrument was the proverbial straw.

“Hello! You know who? No, I don’t. . . . Oh, yes! I’m sorry, I guess I’m kind of upset. . . . It was enough to upset anybody, at that. Where? Across the street from . . . I get you; at seven-thirty tonight. I’ll be there! You bet I will!”

Lane carefully placed the receiver on the hook and placidly leaned back in his chair. “Gentlemen,” he breathed, “ Loup-garou is going to be in the bullpen not later than ten tonight!”

“If he isn’t,” growled Inspector Leonard, “you can turn in that shiny badge! And I mean it!”

“And if he is,” grinned

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