by Paul Ernst
_2. The Living Dead_
At two in the morning, two hours and a half after the odd seizure ofMathew Weems, and while Gest and Kroner and Chichester were in DoctorGrays' suite anxiously looking at the stricken man, eight people were inthe sleek, small roulette room of the Blue Bay Hotel on the fourteenthfloor.
The eight, four men and four women, were absorbed by the wheel. Theirbets were scattered over the numbered board, and some of the bets werehigh.
The croupier, with all bets placed, spun the little ivory ball into thealready spinning wheel, and all watched. At the door, a woman stood. Shewas tall, slender but voluptuously proportioned, with a face like a paleflower on her long, graceful throat. Madame Sin.
She came into the room with a little smile on her red, red lips. In hertapering fingers was held a gold-link purse. She did not open this tobuy chips, simply walked to the table. There, with a smile, two menmoved over a little to make a place for her.
"Thank you so much," she acknowledged the move. Her voice was asexotically attractive as the rest of her; low, clear, a little throaty."I am merely going to watch a little while, however. I do not intend toplay."
The wheel stopped. The ball came to rest in the slot marked nineteen.But the attention of those at the table was divided between it and thewoman who was outrageous enough, or had sense of humor enough, to callherself Madame Sin. In the men's eyes was admiration. In the women'seyes was the wariness that always appears when another woman comes alongwhose attractions are genuinely dangerous to male peace of mind.
"Make your plays," warned the croupier dispassionately, holding the ballbetween pallid thumb and forefinger while he prepared to spin the wheelagain.
The four couples placed bets. Madame Sin watched out of dark, exoticeyes. She turned slowly, with her gold-link purse casually held in herleft hand; turned so that she made a complete, leisurely circle, asthough searching for someone. Then, with her red lips still shaped in asmile, she faced the table again.
The croupier spun the wheel, snapped the ball into it. The eight playersleaned to watch it....
And in that position they remained. There was no movement of any sortfrom any one of them. It was as though they had been frozen to blocks ofice by a sudden blast of the cold of outer space; or as though a motionpicture had been stopped on its reel so that abruptly it became astill-life, with all the actors in mid-move and with half-formedexpressions on their faces.
A tall blond girl was bent far over the table, with her left handhovering over her bet, on number twenty-nine. Beside her a man had acigarette in his lips and a lighter in his left hand which he had beenabout to flick. Two other men were half facing each other with the lipsof one parted for a remark he had begun to make. The rest of the eightwere gazing at the wheel with arms hanging beside them.
And exactly in these positions they remained, for minute after minute.
During that time Madame Sin looked at them; and her smile now was athing to chill the blood. You couldn't have told why. Her face was asserene-looking as ever, and there were no tangible lines of cruelty inevidence in her face. Yet she looked like a she-fiend as she staredaround.
She walked to the croupier, who stood gazing at his wheel, with hismouth open in the beginning of a yawn.
Down the hall came the clang of elevator doors, and the sound oflaughter and voices. Madame Sin glided toward the door. There shepaused, then went purposefully back to the table. She went swiftly fromone to another of the frozen, stark figures in their life-like bututterly rigid positions, then back to the door.
Smiling, she left the room, passing five or six people who were about toenter it for a little gambling. She was almost to the elevator shaftswhen she heard a woman's scream knife the air, followed by a man'shoarse shout that expressed almost as much horror as the scream haddone.
Still smiling, utterly composed, she stepped into an elevator--and theelevator boy shivered a bit as he stared at her. He had not heard thescream, did not know that anything was wrong. He only knew thatsomething in this lovely woman's smile sent cold fingers up and down hisspine.
* * * * *
It was a grim, white-faced trio that sat in the conference room of theBlue Bay Hotel at eleven next morning.
Chichester nor Gest nor Kroner--none had had a moment's sleep all night.They had been in Doctor Grays' suite with Weems when a shivering man--awell-known young clubman, too, which was unfortunate--stumbled up totell of the dreadful thing to be seen in the roulette room.
With horror mounting in their breasts, half knowing already what theywould see, the three had gone there.
Nine more, counting the croupier, in a state like that which Weems wasin! Nine more people with all life, all movement, arrested inmid-motion! Ten now with some kind of awful paralysis gripping them inwhich they did not move nor seemingly breathe--ten who were dead byevery test known to science, but who, as even laymen could see at aglance, were yet indubitably alive!
"Blue Bay Development is ruined," ground out Kroner. It had been said adozen times by every one of the three; but the words made the other twolook at him in frantic denial just the same.
"If we can keep it quiet--just for a little while--just until----"
"Until what?" snapped Kroner. "If we only had an idea when thismysterious sickness would leave these people! We could stall the newsperhaps for a day, or even two days--_if_ we could have some assurancethat at the end of twenty-four or forty-eight hours they'd be all rightagain. But we haven't. They may be like that for months before theydie--may even die in a few hours. Grays can't tell. This is all beyondhis medical experience. So it seems to me we might as well make publicannouncements now, face ruin on the resort development, and get it overwith."
Chichester spoke, almost in a whisper.
"This Doctor Satan, whoever he is, gives us assurance in his note. Hesays that if we pay what he demands, the ten will recover, andeverything will be all right."
"And if we pay what he demands, we'll be ruined just the same as thoughwe'd been killed by publicity," objected Gest.
Kroner glared at the wizened treasurer.
"I'm surprized you'd even suggest that, Chichester. But you've not onlysuggested it--you've pled for it all night long! Do you get a cut fromDoctor Satan or something?"
"Gentlemen," soothed Gest, as Chichester half rose from his chair."We're in too serious a jam to indulge in petty quarrels. We've got todecide what to do----"
"I move we call in the police," growled Kroner. "I still can't believethat any human being could induce such a state of catalepsy, or livingdeath, or whatever you want to call it, in other human beings. Notunless he's a wizard or something. Nevertheless, in view of this threatnote from Doctor Satan, there may be a definite criminal element herethat the cops should know about."
"Let's wait on the police," objected Gest. "We have already done betterthan that in summoning this Ascott Keane to help us."
Chichester's dry skin flushed faintly.
"I still say that that was a stupid move!" he snapped. "Ascott Keane?Who is he, anyhow? He has no reputation for detective work or any otherkind of work. A rich man's son--loafer--dilettante. What we should havedone was contact Doctor Satan after his first note, after Weems wasstricken. Then we would have saved the nine in the roulette room, and atthe same time saved our project here."
"You'd pay this crook our entire surplus?" snarled Kroner. "You'd givehim a million eight hundred thousand in cold cash, when you don't evenknow that he has had a hand in what ails the ten?"
"It's worth a million eight hundred thousand to save our stake in BlueBay," said Chichester obstinately. "As for Doctor Satan's having a handin the horrible fate of Weems and the rest--he told you beforehand thatit would happen, didn't he?"
"Please," sighed Gest as for a second time the florid vice-president andthe wizened treasurer snarled at each other. "We----"
The door of the office suite banged open. The assistant manager of thehotel staggered into the room
. His blue eyes were blazing withexcitement. His youngish face was contorted with it.
"I've just found out something that I think is of vital importance!" hegasped. "Something in the roulette room! I've been in there all night,as you know, looking around to see if I could find poison needlesfastened to table or chairs, or anything like that, and quite by chanceI noticed something else. The maddest thing! The roulette wheel!It's----"
He stopped.
"Go on, go on!" urged Kroner. "What about the roulette wheel? And whatpossible connection could it have with what happened to the people inthat room?"
He stared at the young assistant manager, as did Gest and Chichester,with his hands clenched with suspense.
And the assistant manager slowly, like a falling tree, pitched forwardon his face.
"My God----"
"What happened to him?"
The three got to him together. They rolled him over, lifted his head,began chafing his hands. But it was useless. And in a moment that wasadmitted in their faces as they looked at each other.
"Another victory for Doctor Satan," whispered Chichester, shuddering asthough with palsy. "He's--dead!"
Gest opened his mouth as though to deny it, but closed his lips again.For palpably the assistant manager was dead, struck down an instantbefore he could tell them some vital news he had uncovered. He had diedas though struck by lightning, at just the right time to savedisclosure. It was as though the being who called himself Doctor Satanwere there, in that office, and had acted to protect himself!
Shivering, Chichester glanced fearfully around. And Gest said: "God--ifAscott Keane were here----"