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Shadow 233 - The Blackmail King 11-01-41, The by Maxwell Grant

Shadow 233 - The Blackmail King 11-01-41, The by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street and Smith
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


FAR different from Fengram’s luxurious office was the room where Margo Lane found herself. She had reached it by a trip up what seemed to be a secret stairway, with a ladder climb at the top.

Dana Mycroft was following her, croaking threats if she didn’t hurry, and Margo made a final scramble into the room above her.

She was startled at sight of a waiting figure that had the blundering look and expressionless scowl of a Frankenstein monster. The fact that the man was standing in a smelly laboratory, crowded with bottles and boxes, was enough to make it seem that he had been hatched from test tubes.

The man’s face was a deathly white; his forehead was girded by a blood-soaked towel. He snarled when he saw Margo and shoved himself forward, hands extended, as though he planned to seize and throttle her.

The fellow wavered, however, before he had advanced halfway, and Mycroft, crawling up through the closet floor, pressed between and pushed the gory man into the chair by the shaded window.

“This is Tilroy,” croaked Mycroft. “His condition represents the folly of blind obedience to a misguided master. He is Rayland’s servant, not mine. His duty was to keep me here while Rayland captured you, Miss Brett.

“You see how badly Rayland miscalculated. I reversed both situations. I kept Tilroy here, and I trapped you. Now, let us see, Miss Brett: where were we? Ah, yes. We were discussing my invention, Infralux. Let me show you something.”

He fumbled among the boxes. Margo noticed that he was very careful with one, as he laid it in the corner. Coming to another, he brought out a fair-sized electric bulb, then a large flashlight. He screwed the bulb into the flashlight. The bulging bulb began to glow, rather feebly.

“More than could be expected from flashlight batteries,” declared Mycroft. “Still, it is not enough. I admit that it had to be developed. But did you ever hear what they said of Edison’s first incandescent? No? They termed it a firefly in a fish bowl.

“It was improved, of course, and Edison shared both credit and cash. That is what I ask with Infralux. Your father developed it more rapidly than I could have. I can show you some of his later lamps.” He looked about, then shook his head. “No, they are in my own laboratory, not this one.

“However, Brett denied me my share!” Mycroft’s eyes took on a crazed glare. “He became stubborn; heedless of my warnings. It preyed upon him, though he would not admit it. Trouble with government contracts worried his guilty conscience. He reached the point where he could think of only one recourse: suicide!”

It wasn’t easy, playing Sandra’s part at this point. Though Margo knew some of the facts regarding Brett, she wondered two things: first, how much Sandra really knew; second, what Mycroft expected Sandra to know. So Margo compromised by lowering her eyes in sorrowful fashion and murmuring:

“Poor Dad!”

Mycroft eyed her closely. Margo could almost feel his probing glare, as he stooped to get a better view of her face.



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