"040 (B051) - Haunted Ocean (1936-06) - Laurence Donovan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

THE darting, writhing splash of color springing from the flat, ebony case was less than a foot in length. But its head and neck expanded enormously.
"It is the most poisonous of all the cobra species," stated Doc. "It's a hamadryad, which does not reach great size."
The effect of the alcohol was almost instant. The death-dealing hamadryad hissed only once. It struck at the bronze hand which had released it. But Doc's movement had been quicker than the cobra's dart.
Professor Callus gasped a little. It had seemed as if the snake must have buried its fangs in the bronzed skin.
But the cobra stretched its length and fell back. Then it stretched inertly. The alcohol had overpowered it.

Professor Callus blinked a little and his big head bobbed up and down.
"Professor Jasson must have been overtaken by some form of killing dementia," he commented. "Yet why would he be coming to your headquarters, Mr. Savage?"
Doc Savage, as was his habit when some great idea was beginning to take shape in his marvelous brain, said nothing. He moved back beside the corpse on the couch in the library.
The arms of the dead man were sticking out stiffly. His legs were rigid. The face was a cold, blood-drained mask. The eyes were open and staring.
"Must have been dead some time, the way he felt," said Renny.
Professor Callus was looking at Doc, but he did not see his lips move. But Doc's companions knew their bronze leader was on the eve of some important discovery.
"Yes, rigor mortis seems to have set in," said Doc, quietly. "It would mean this Professor Jasson was dead some hours ago. But the man died within the past half hour."
"Why, that would seem impossible!" said Professor Callus. "I thought rigor mortis would not take place for from two to five hours?"
"This man has been killed instantly by a poisonous injection," stated Doc. "And rigor mortis was artificially induced to make it appear he had been dead for some time. He must have been at the door only a short time; perhaps a few minutes."
Chapter II. WOMAN OF VIOLENCE
WHILE Doc Savage was examining the dead man and finding him so thoroughly equipped for violence, the ungainly Monk was encountering another form of violence. But this was very much alive. It was in the form of a slender girl.
The girl's face would have been beautiful, under normal conditions. But when the young woman encountered the terrifying figure of Monk before her on the stairway, her countenance was a strained, desperate mask.
The girl was red-headed. The hair was naturally and vividly red. Her deep-brown eyes were sparkling with menace. Undoubtedly she was scared, but being red-headed, she intended doing something about it.
Monk had been unusually quiet about ascending the stairs. No person had recently descended by elevator. The arrival of Professor Callus had apparently been the only movement of a passenger to the eighty-sixth floor.
The red-headed girl must have seen Monk first. The apelike figure of the chemist moved around an upward turn in the stairs. The Cold steel of an automatic's snout jammed right into his hairy throat.
"Don't move!" said a low, tense voice. "You're him, and I'll shoot!"
Monk did not know who he was supposed to be. But it seemed plainly evident the girl would shoot. The automatic's snout quivered against Monk's tough hide.
"Howlin' calamities!" he squealed in his childlike voice. "Where'd you come from? You musta killed that guy upstairs!"
"I said, don't move!" repeated the girl. "So you know about the murder? You were trying to get away, and you heard Barton! Barton! Come on up here!"
The young man called Barton must have been a floor or two below where Monk had started to ascend the stairs. His feet pounded quickly upward. He was a thick-browed, black-haired young fellow. When he saw the position of the young woman, his face became very pale.
"Lora!" exclaimed the young man. "Who is he? Wait! Give me the gun!"
The red-headed girl shook her head determinedly.
"You walk behind me, Barton," she directed. "Here, take this. If he makes a break, you'll have to shoot!"
Monk's small eyes bulged. The red-headed girl produced another automatic pistol. She pushed it into the young man's hands.
"But lady, dag-gone it!" yelped Monk. "Whatcha think you're doin'? What's the—"
"Shut up!" snapped the red-headed girl, emphatically. "Now you just march ahead of us up these stairs! Barton, be sure about the safety catch! Perhaps Mr. Savage will like to see this hoodlum!"
There was a metallic click. Monk knew the sound of a safety catch on an automatic when he heard it. The weapon had been shifted around to the back of his neck. It was no more reassuring there than it had been against his throat.
Monk's short legs jerked. Step by step, he mounted toward the eighty-sixth floor. At the first corridor above, which happened to be the eighty-fourth, the red-headed girl said, "Wait a minute!"
The automatic continued to bore into his neck. The girl said, "Barton, put this in your pocket!"
The object, Monk saw, was a hypodermic syringe. Monk's quick-working olfactory sense detected an odor. He could detect any known chemical almost instantly by smell. His awkward body shivered.
For he had caught what might have been the odor of burned almonds. That hypo must contain hydrocyanic acid.
THE door of Doc Savage's headquarters was of plain metal. No lock or knob appeared in view. It might have been only an indentation in the wall. The red-headed girl halted, still prodding Monk's neck.
"Barton!" she said. "There must be a buzzer button—"
She ceased speaking. The door was silently opening. At some other time, Monk would have enjoyed this immensely. The electroscope mechanism in the door had been operated by radio control.
The red-headed girl breathed quickly, but recovered herself.
"Go on in!" she directed. "All right, Barton! You can put away your gun! I can handle him!"
Doc Savage was standing in the door of the library. Neither his features nor his eyes expressed any surprise. But behind him loomed the sharp features of Ham, the lawyer. Ham let out a delighted yell.
"Now isn't that somethin'!" he said, sarcastically. "Lady, where did you catch it?"
"Doc" squawked Monk. "Willya tell this redhead to take that gun outta my neck! She's likely to pull the trigger!"
"Lady," drawled Ham, maliciously, "go on and pull it. You'll be doing the world a great service. I've always said some one would get the ape, if he was permitted to run loose much longer."
"Dag-gone you, Ham!" howled Monk. "You quit runnin' off at the mouth!"
"Holy cow!" boomed big Renny. "An' Monk brought her up, he says!"
THE red-headed girl seemed to have a disposition like flash powder. The various remarks clearly had her puzzled. Also they struck an angry spark.
"What's so funny about all of this?" she demanded. "You're Mr. Savage?"—she addressed Doc. "Well, I ran onto this ugly baboon sneaking around on the stairway. I was coming up to see you and—"