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The Plague, Pestilence & Apocalypse MEGAPACK™ Page 14

by Robert Reed


  murdered policemen . The threat of the terrible Black Death, and

  now this . Anger rose slowly within him like a white-hot tide . He felt

  his brow flush with it, and he clenched his fists. It was too powerful

  an emotion for him to conceal . He stared into Kirkpatrick’s eyes,

  and his own pupils were pinpoints of rage .

  “Now I swear to you, Kirkpatrick,” he said slowly, “I will help

  you bring to justice the murderer of your men .”

  The Commissioner’s face was set in harsh, commanding lines .

  “Remember what you say, Wentworth!”

  “So help me God,” Wentworth repeated, “I will bring to book the

  murderer of those policemen .”

  “Will you trap the Spider?”

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 109

  Wentworth’s mouth went into a thin straight line . “If the Spider

  is the man who placed the seal upon their foreheads, the Spider shall

  pay .”

  For long moments the men’s gaze locked, and the slow languor-

  ous strains of another waltz came like music from another world, so

  foreign was it to the tension of the two .

  Nita van Sloan laughed uncertainly beside them .

  “For heaven’s sake, Dick,” she said, “Don’t look so grim . One

  might fancy you and Stanley were enemies .”

  Neither man replied; nor did their eyes shift from their rigid re-

  gard of one another .

  “I’ll say this to you,” Kirkpatrick said presently, and there was

  strain in his voice, “in spite of the fact that the Spider is a criminal, I

  have admired him previously . Admired him because he struck down

  the criminals that I could not touch within the law; admired him

  because he was fair and just . But I tell you now that this is differ-

  ent . That hereafter it is war to the death between the Spider and the

  police. I shall order my men to shoot him on sight — if ever his true

  identity is disclosed to us .”

  A slow smile spread over Wentworth’s face . He had got a grip on

  himself now, and the slow red throb of the wound on his temple had

  subsided .

  “I don’t know why you tell me all of this, Stanley, but I think you

  are entirely right . I too shall shoot on sight when I spot the man who

  placed the seal upon the foreheads of those dead police .”

  For a moment longer the men stood face to face . Then Kirkpat-

  rick bowed swiftly .

  “I must ask you to excuse me now; there is work to be done .” He

  bowed a second time to Nita van Sloan, spun on his heel and stalked

  off .Wentworth looked after him with a slight smile disturbing the

  equanimity of his lips, and mockery returning to his brow . He turned

  to Nita .

  “Good old Stan seems to be a bit disturbed,” he said . “Come, let’s

  finish this dance; then we must go.”

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 110

  Nita van Sloan gave herself into his arms and they whirled slowly

  through the dancing throng . But her heart was not in it, and although

  Wentworth guided her skillfully and gracefully through the mea-

  sures there was no pleasure in the waltz .

  They took their leave then, and Wentworth, handing her into his

  car, said softly:

  “Will you go home with me for a while, Nita? I must talk to you .”

  “Of course, Dick,” the girl said from the depths of the car, and

  Wentworth, nodding briefly to Ram Singh, climbed in.

  For a moment, while the car tooled through the traffic, he sat

  silently, the girl’s white hand clinging to his arm . Finally the girl

  could stand the stillness no longer and broke out:

  “Oh Dick — that awful seal. Your seal!”

  “Yes,” said Wentworth softly . “My seal . I think Nita, my dear,

  that I am entering the most deadly conflict of my life. This man is

  fiendish, utterly without heart. And he is clever.” His fist struck sud-

  denly on his knee . “Damnably clever .”

  In the darkness Wentworth’s breath came short and fast, and an-

  ger rose in him again . The girl’s soft voice at his elbow called him

  back .

  “But what are you talking about, Dick? I don’t understand .”

  Wentworth then told her briefly what had happened that night,

  and that his enemy must have placed his seal on the policemen’s

  foreheads .

  “Do you know what that means, my darling? If any criminal has

  the courage to imitate the Spider, to try to pin his crimes on him,

  then that man must have an amazing and fiendish plot before him,

  for the underworld dreads the Spider and fears him .”

  Nita laughed in amusement at his side .

  “For heaven’s sake, Dick, you talk as though the Spider were

  someone else .”

  Wentworth laughed with her .

  “Someone else! Child, sometimes when I get behind that mask

  and go out with a gun in my pocket, I feel that no such person as

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 111

  Richard Wentworth ever lived.” His fist clenched. “Nita, something

  so fearful that it will rock the world is in progress here . I know it!”

  Mentally he was visioning the shadow of the Black Death just

  below the horizon glow of the city’s lights . But why, he asked him-

  self, would any criminal deal with such a fearful thing? What could

  he hope to accomplish with it?

  The car halted and a resplendent doorman opened the door of

  the limousine . Wentworth with a smile on his lips, descended and

  handed Nita to the curb . Together they walked across the sidewalk

  and through the elaborate, tasteful lobby, a man of the world and his

  friend .

  Who would think that here walked the Spider, and the one woman

  in the world who knew his identity? Who could guess that this man

  was on the brink of battle with the most dangerous antagonist the

  world of crime had ever produced?

  They entered the private elevator which lifted them silently to

  Wentworth’s fifteen-room penthouse atop one of Fifth Avenue’s

  most fashionable buildings . The ruddy-faced Jenkyns who opened

  the door bowed delightedly as he took his master’s cape, gloves and

  cane; for Jenkyns, his hair silvering with age, looked forward to the

  day when Nita van Sloan would be mistress over the household,

  when the dread pall of mystery would cease to dominate the young

  master he adored . His ruddy face was wrinkled with smiles as he

  hurried on to his pantry, to put together with his inimitable skill

  supper for his master and the mistress-to-be .

  Richard Wentworth did not pause in the drawing room, but led

  Nita directly to his thick- walled study . He seated her comfortably

  and gestured toward Ram Singh, who had followed them .

  “A phone please,” he said quietly .

  Presently Ram Singh came back into the room with a portable

  phone and plugged it into the wall . Wentworth took it eagerly . “Have

  Jenkyns,” he told Ram Singh, “get Mrs . Gainsborough on the phone .

  Mrs . Gainsborough in Roslyn, Long Island .”

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 112

  When the connection had gone through he asked
quickly, “Mrs .

  Gainsborough? This is Richard Wentworth . Has anything unusual

  happened about your estate during the past week?”

  As he listened to the woman’s response, which grated so noisily

  that its rasping sound was audible to Nita van Sloan ten feet away,

  his hand tightened slowly about the phone, and his eyes took on an

  eager light .

  “But Mrs . Gainsborough,” he said swiftly, “you need not be afraid .

  I am not connected in any way with the police . I do a little criminal

  investigation work sometimes myself, and I ran across your name in

  that connection… Yes, yes, perhaps you are right… Certainly .… I’ll

  be out to see you tomorrow .… Yes, until then . Good-bye .”

  He handed the phone back to Ram Singh and whirled on light

  feet toward Nita . “Darling, the battle is about to begin . I want you to

  call with me tomorrow on Mrs . Gainsborough . I think she holds the

  key that will start the fireworks.”

  The next afternoon was sullen beneath lowering clouds, and the

  wind that stirred in their faces as Wentworth drove his swift Hispana

  Suiza roadster over the Long Island roads was hot and oppressive .

  They swept from the climbing highway into a broad stone-gated

  drive and went on their way through trees up to the colossal col-

  umns that marked the home of Mrs . Gainsborough . The whole mass

  seemed to have been built with the idea of making a show-place,

  and the result was slightly ludicrous. Wentworth’s upflung glance,

  taking in the whole facade, was mildly amused, but when he entered

  the house and bowed before the stout matron who received him, his

  manner was deferential .

  The woman was absurdly overdressed, stuffed like a sausage

  into a too tight dress that showed too much of her pudgy arms for

  afternoon wear, and too much of her ample bosom . But there was

  no laughter in Wentworth’s eyes as he looked into her pudgy face;

  for grief and fear were there, and Wentworth was no man to mock

  at human misery .

  So Wentworth smiled sympathetically, and the woman smoth-

  ered his strong hand in both of hers .

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 113

  “Oh, thank you, thank you for coming,” she said . “I have been

  so afraid .” She managed a smile and sank heavily into a chair in

  the over-decorated and over-furnished room where she received the

  two .She poured out the story in a swift gush of words, and Wentworth,

  standing silently before her, his eyes fixed in keen concentration on

  her face, listened with encouraging nods .

  A letter had come, she said, demanding that she pay a million

  dollars to the writer lest her entire family be killed .

  “A million dollars!” she exclaimed, and her hands flew in swift

  gestures . “A million dollars I have not got, or I would pay it will-

  ingly, to save my children .”

  She raised her voice and called out . “Marie! Marie! Bring Dave

  and Gertrude in!” She went on talking quickly . “This letter says if

  I don’t pay they’ll kill my children with — with the Black Death.”

  Wentworth started at the words . The Black Death . Then this was

  the answer to his fears, extortion under the threat of the Black Death!

  Good God! Who would not pay with that horror hanging over him?

  And this was only one case that had come to his attention . There

  must be hundreds of them . No man who could conceive using the

  terror of the Black Death would stop at one extortion . Wentworth

  felt the cold crawling touch of apprehension down his back .

  Lord in heaven! If one of the victims refused and the Black Death

  were loosed, what would turn its fearful stride from the city? What

  would prevent the murder of thousands! Wentworth spoke swiftly to

  the woman .

  “Have you the letter?” he asked .

  Mrs . Gainsborough lurched to her feet, moved awkwardly across

  the room on broken arches to a desk and returned with a crudely

  printed letter . It read:

  Unless you pay us a million dollars you and your chil-

  dren will be killed by the Black Death . If you agree, hang

  something red out of the upstairs window on the front . Re-

  member, pay, or you all die by the Black Death .

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 114

  Wentworth frowned at the thing . It was like any crank note, more

  than a little disappointing in its queer simplicity . But the Black

  Death—

  A maid showed momentarily in the doorway, and two children

  came in . They were youngsters; the girl shy, with golden curly hair

  and eyes almost as blue as Nita’s; the boy younger, with black hair

  and a chubby face that broke easily into smiles .

  The woman’s face softened as she turned and called them to her,

  and Wentworth felt a hand bite into his arm .

  “Oh Dick, can’t you do something for them?” Nita said softly .

  Wentworth turned and smiled at her, and for a moment the alert-

  ness went from his eyes and they were very dark and tender . “I’ll

  try, dear .”

  Somewhere in the house a bell pealed and the woman shuddered

  as she stood with an arm about each of her children . Fear came back

  into her face and her lips trembled .

  “Oh,” she said, “they called once before .” Wentworth’s eyes were

  narrow and hard . “Let me talk to them!”

  The maid entered with a phone, plugged it into the wall . Went-

  worth picked it up .

  “Hello,” he said, and as he listened his eyes sparkled with anger,

  and his fists clenched. “You keep well informed,” he murmured.

  “Very well! But since you know I’m on the case, let me warn you . If

  you attempt to harm any member of this household, you’ll pay with

  your life . Understand?” and abruptly he snapped the phone away

  from his ear, whirled to Nita .

  “The same man,” he said . “It’s the same man . I heard his laugh,

  the same fiendish chuckling laugh as if he were gloating over some-

  thing horrible to come!”

  He turned swiftly toward the woman . “I’d get guards here im-

  mediately . He knows in some way that I’m here, so there’s no longer

  any use of pretense .”

  He jerked up the phone again, spat a number into it, and began

  barking out commands to the police — commands which he knew

  would be instantly obeyed .

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 115

  The woman sent her children from the room, and Wentworth

  heard her laboring feet ascend the stairs . He turned to Nita .

  “I think it best,” he said, “that Ram Singh drive you back to town

  at once . The man who just phoned declared that he was about to

  loose the Black Death upon all of us!”

  Chapter 5

  The Black Death

  Wentworth’s words seemed to hang visibly in the air . The Black

  Death! It called to mind the drab, narrow streets of medieval London,

  visions of direful axle-creaking carts drawn by scarecrow horses;

  callous drivers who called mournfully, “Bring out your dead!” and

  carried loads of corpses like s
tacked firewood to pyres that burned

  like the campfires of a besieging enemy about the city; a stench of

  death and decay; smoke of the corpse fires that beclouded even the

  sun .Wentworth stared unseeingly with horror-widened eyes . Surely

  no human being could conceive so fiendish a crime. Visions of that

  terrible plague sweeping through the congested millions of New

  York rose before Wentworth’s eyes . Abruptly he jerked himself out

  of the preoccupation into which he had fallen .

  Motors of automobiles roared outside the door and he crossed the

  room with swift, long strides . A dozen police rolled from the cars

  and, in charge of a gruff-voiced, waddling sergeant, straggled up to

  the porch .

  Wentworth conferred swiftly with their chief and found him in-

  telligent and competent . Twenty-four-hour patrols about the house

  were organized, and two policemen who would alternate were se-

  lected to stand perpetual guard over the children . A vermin extermi-

  nator was called in to destroy all rats and mice which might bring in

  the disease .

  No food was to enter the house without rigid inspection, nor

  would any stranger pass the police cordon. Finally, satisfied with

  WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH, by Norvell Page | 116

  the arrangements, Wentworth went back into the mansion to give

  further warning to Mrs . Gainsborough against even a momentary

  carelessness .

  Had Wentworth’s thoughtfully intent eyes spotted a figure that

  crouched on a distant hillside and watched him through binoculars,

  as he entered the house, he might have felt some misgivings about

  the adequacy of the protection he had provided Mrs . Gainsborough .

  But he did not see him . And on that distant hill a large-boned,

  skulking man with the brim of his black hat pulled far down over his

  eyes, chuckled to himself .

  Twenty feet away from the man was a small black satchel with

  a screen for ventilation opening in one end; such a satchel as small

  dogs and cats are carried in .

  For more than an hour the man sat waiting, propped up against a

  tall tree, while he watched the distant house .

  Finally he saw something which made him chuckle with a gloat-

  ing satisfaction that was horrible to hear . For from a side entrance

  of the home a small golden-haired girl and a chubby boy came out,

  gazing big-eyed at the blue-coated policeman who stalked beside

 

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