The Domino Lady

by Lars Anderson

  “So he’s right in line for a visit from The Domino Lady who intends, according to her letter of warning, to take the Old Boy for his collection of diamonds for the benefit of the charities he persistently ignores.”

  Ellen had listened, intently. Now, she interrupted: “You’re to guard the place,” she murmured, softly, “yet you sound as though you were in sympathy with the lady, Roge!”

  He grinned: “Did I say I wasn’t? But, although I admire her nerve and principles, personal sympathies don’t mean a thing in this game. I’m drawing my salary for guarding something, and that protection holds good, no matter who my employer happens to be, or what I’m retained to guard. You see that, don’t you?”

  As she began to word a pert reply there came an interruption. A bellhop entered the Cocktail Room, paging Roge McKane. He frowned. It was an important telephone call, but it was easy to see that the young investigator disliked leaving his charming companion!

  “Don’t mind me, Roge,” Ellen laughed, tinklingly, “I really must be going. I must look my best tonight, and I need the beauty nap, you know. See you at the masque, I suppose?”

  “You bet!” McKane told her, enthusiastically. “And if I can manage a dance or two, will you save ’em for me, Ellen?”

  With her consenting laugh echoing in his ears, the frowning detective went to answer the telephone summons, and Ellen stood up and walked toward the elevators.

  Chapter 2

  PETITE Ellen Patrick had earned her title of “The Domino Lady” through some considerable degree of personal daring, an inherent love of adventure, a willingness to risk life and liberty, and a desire to wreak vengeance upon the crooked political machine which ruled the state.

  Her father, Owen Patrick, had been one of the most feared politicians in California at one time. He had been honest. An assassin’s bullet had cut him down in his prime, three years before, and it had been whispered about that the killer was a gunman in the employ of the state machine! Ellen had inherited the big Irishman’s keen wit and fearless spirit.

  The little adventuress had always lived a life of comparative ease as befitted the only child of Owen Patrick. A Berkeley graduate, she was thrilling to a Far Eastern trip when news came that a cowardly slug had robbed her of the one who meant more than life itself to her.

  From that dark day forward, her life had been devoted to a fearless campaign of vengeance!

  At times, Ellen unhesitatingly accepted nigh impossible undertakings simply for the sake of friendship and the love of adventure. At other times she was coldly involved in dangerous schemes merely to embarrass the authorities whom she blamed for her father’s death.

  But, always, her anonymous donations to worthy charity covered the biggest portion of any recompense obtained through her forays against the wealthy.

  Of late, Ellen had become increasingly well-known and feared as The Domino Lady!

  Dealing only with the higher-ups, the social elite, Ellen had no retained corps of informers, nor did she need them. Rumors, whispered gossip, news reports.

  These were her sources of information, and, moving in the upper strata upon which she preyed, they fell into her dainty hands with regularity and dispatch!

  For instance, Ellen Patrick had learned much about Ames Kettrick, big political figure of Frisco. And he was just as crooked as he was big! Kettrick had always added to his wealth in dubious ways. Yet his fortune was immense. His recipe was unfailing. With the political machine behind him, he “got away with” anything crooked from fencing stolen jewels in his two elaborate jewelry establishments to defrauding widows and orphans in shady tenement deals.

  Kettrick believed, and there was evidence to sustain his belief, that very few of those in on the “easy money” were saps enough to part with any portion of it under any circumstances. There was, he claimed, no reason why he should bestow part of his takings from the orphans and widows upon a needy orphans’ asylum! It was strange!

  Innately vain, the politician had recently married a woman thirty years his junior; one Jane Forbes, a dazzling movie queen of pre-talkie days. Jane was still a beauty in spite of her fall from movie grace and she, along with the Kettrick Collection, were the apples of the old crook’s eye; he seldom if ever neglected an opportunity of displaying both to advantage.

  Thus, the much-heralded Ball Masque to be given at the Kettrick Mansion and to which celebrities from all parts of the state were to attend and pay homage to an elderly crook, his youngish wife, and a rather dubious collection of priceless stones!

  It had not been easy for Ellen to secure an invitation to the affair, but the Hollywood beauty kept after what she wanted until she got it!

  Arriving at the smart Catalan in Frisco two days before, she had at once set about making preparations for another daring coup; one which she fondly hoped would not only put a crimp in Ames Kettrick’s vulpine nature, but would enable the hard-pressed orphanage authorities to adequately rebuild their home and finance the proper upbringing of their little charges.

  Her customary white-on-black message of warning had been brief and to the point.

  Ames Kettrick was to contribute worthwhile funds to worthy charities before Friday afternoon, or take the consequences!

  And the consequences in this instance, as the missive broadly hinted, was to embrace a call from the mysterious Domino Lady, and the loss of his much-prized diamond collection which he was determined to display at the Ball Masque!

  Of course, Kettrick had scoffed at the message. Who was this Domino Lady?

  He’d never heard of her! Some Hollywood upstart, trying a new publicity gag? Probably. Yet, in his heart, the crooked politician was sorely troubled and frankly afraid.

  And even the retaining of competent guards could not dispel that fear, for Kettrick had heard of The Domino Lady! Had heard much, and none of it productive of peace of mind on his part!

  WHEN Ellen entered her hotel suite after her enlightening encounter with Roge McKane, she immediately discarded her clothing, and donned chic black and white pajamas.

  Relaxing on the bed in her boudoir, she stretched her cramped pink toes, one by one, in luxurious serenity. Slowly, her keen mind clicked over every detail of her daring venture of the night almost at hand. Her plans were perfect.

  Of course, there was a certain amount of chance, but she was ever ready for that possibility, as she wanted no endeavor where there were no chances to be taken!

  Dreamily smiling to herself, her mind turned to Roge McKane. She’d always liked the tall, darkly-handsome ex-collegian. She first remembered him as a backfield ace at Saint Mary’s; that had been before his father’s death and the subsequent loss of the McKane millions.

  She’d been a happy-go-lucky Berkeley co-ed in those days. She hadn’t seen Roge in ages; of course, she’d enjoy dancing with him, but she hoped that any possible encounter of the night would not have to be with him... Too bad he had been retained to guard Kettrick’s...

  So, musing, Ellen drifted off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep!

  LATER, when it was time to dress, Ellen stripped off the pajamas, drew a tub of warm water which she lavishly scented with an expensive, exotic perfume.

  Slowly, she immersed her beautifully-rounded body beneath its caressing surface. For long minutes, Ellen luxuriated in the soothing influence of the scented waters before leaping up to massage herself dry with a huge, fluffy towel.

  Her butter-hued hair was a crown of enchanting, silken curls when she had finished with it. Crimson for her lips, eye-shadow for allure, perfume, powder. With a feeling of naughtiness, she slipped into a pair of black lace panties. Then, sheerest hose for her shapely legs, black velvet slippers for her dainty feet.

  Next, Ellen sheathed her lithe, youthful body in a close-fitting, shining-black evening gown which lent lure and mystery to her every curve and contour. Entirely backless it was, with the front caught about the white column of her neck in a captivating halter-effect. The ensemble, plus a white silken cape
and black domino mask, was the identifying costume of the daring Domino Lady!

  The costume she had chosen for the masquerade was a voluminous affair of the Eighteenth Century, and it suited her ravishing Nordic beauty and allure, perfectly. It accentuated the fullness of her shapely bosom, and the boyish slimness of her waist. It also gave her svelte hips a wide sweep which was at the same time beautiful and seductive. And it went on perfectly over the tight-fitting black crepe gown beneath!

  A moment later, throwing the white silken cape about her kissable, bare shoulders, Ellen took a final glance into the tall mirror. She felt perfectly satisfied.

  All plans were perfected; her appearance was almost too perfect to be real; the success of her perilous venture rested squarely upon her own fearless and daring, and the element of chance!

  With a little smile of confidence curving her cupid’s bow crimson lips, she went out and locked the door of her suite behind her.

  Chapter 3

  AMES KETTRICK’S mansion, one of the show places of smart San Francisco, was aglow with lights and noisy with music and merriment when Ellen Patrick entered the huge ballroom.

  Numbered among the masked and costumed guests were leaders in almost every line of human endeavor; politicians, actors, artists, business and social demigods, and the elderly politician was in his element, reveling in the choice opportunity of displaying his great wealth and his pretty, young wife.

  Ellen found that the Ball Masque revelers were to unmask at midnight when a showing of the fabulous Kettrick diamond collection would be accorded them.

  In the ballroom proper, the lights were so dim one could hardly see anything. The air was heavy with the scent of a thousand perfumes. Servants glided here and there with loaded trays, and underneath the sensuous strains of the Spanish orchestra, she could hear the swish of feet on the polished floor.

  The little adventuress stood in a shadowed corner and took in the entire layout. Her heart was thumping with the acceleration of the chase, the knowledge that here was new, exciting adventure in the making!

  It was her life, her greatest thrill of living! Visible through the holes in the orchid mask which concealed the upper half of her lovely face, great brown eyes glowed and smoldered with growing excitement.

  Abruptly, she turned at a touch on her arm. She was startled for a brief moment. A tall, wide-shouldered man, dressed as an English knight — helmet, visor and everything, was leaning over her.

  “Ellen, herself!” came in the deep tones of Roge McKane. “Couldn’t fool me, although you are looking extra swellegant tonight! May I have this dance?”

  She smiled. “But can you dance in that outfit, Galahad?” she asked, pertly.

  “Oh, this isn’t real, you know,” he returned, quickly.

  “It’s merely a bunch of tinsel hung together. Old Kettrick’s idea. Said he thought I’d best mask like the guests so as to be able to mingle freely about and watch for the blonde in the black gown and domino, if she dares attempt anything! How do I look, Ellen?”

  “Just lovely!” she smiled, her soft voice throbbing melodiously with a peculiarly emotional quiver, a little trick of hers. “I’d say you’d just left the Round Table, or something of the sort!”

  He laughed: “Shall we dance?”

  She stepped into his glittering arms, and they glided out into the stream of dancers.

  For some little time they did not speak, but Ellen thrilled to the feel of his possessive arm about her slender waist. McKane was so tall she couldn’t see over his shoulder, and, big as he was, not once did his boots touch her dainty slippers.

  Ellen laughed tinklingly as they glided about the ballroom in time with a dreamy waltz. The young investigator’s arms clasped her momentarily closer, while her rounded arms were about him.

  At the moment, she forgot where she was and why she was here. All she realized was that, under the spell of his magnetism and the influence of the sensuous music, she was having the time of her life, and her affectionate little being quivered with suppressed emotion.

  However, her fertile brain could not long remain dormant when there was adventure in the offing.

  It swung back abruptly to the ways and means of accomplishing her set purpose of the evening. Where were the diamonds she sought, and how were they guarded?

  How was she to get possession of them? It was almost eleven; the unmasking and the display of the stones was scheduled for twelve! She must work fast if she were to succeed before that time!

  AS SOON as the dance was ended, Roge McKane entreated her to walk in the garden with him while opportunity presented itself. She yielded, seeing in the invitation a chance of securing needed information.

  She disliked taking advantage of the young detective’s friendship in that manner, but it seemed justified under the circumstances. She would not allow anything to stand between her and ultimate victory!

  There was an argent California moon overhead and the air was warm enough to make her cape unnecessary. Laughing and chatting, she allowed the tall investigator to lead her to a marble bench, half concealed from view by shrubbery. When he had lighted her cigarette, Ellen leaned back and gazed absently across the moonlit garden.

  “Won’t you be missed?” she asked, softly.

  “I hardly think so,” McKane’s thoughts were on other things and he scarcely realized what he said as he answered, “and I can’t help it if I am. As long as I’m with you, here in the moonlight, it doesn’t matter, Ellen!”

  “But the stones?” she interpolated, “will they be safe with you away?”

  “The boys are guarding them in a little room off the main corridor,” he replied, quickly, “where they are placed for the showing at midnight. The men are not costumed or masked as I am, and they’ll keep their eye peeled every moment.

  “Nothing can happen. But,” he went on, sitting down beside Ellen, “why waste our moment here together with talk of things like that, honey? I want to talk about you! After all, the stones are adequately protected.”

  A FAINT pulse was throbbing visibly at the base of her throat. Roge McKane’s dark eyes were on it; he missed the gleam which crept into her brown orbs through the slits in the mask as he gave her the wanted information!

  “Well, I hope you’re right,” she whispered, musically, “because I wouldn’t want to be the one to keep you from your duty... Roge!”

  The slight hesitation before she said the last word made the detective lean forward.

  Suddenly, he caught her lithe body in his arms and drew her toward him. His hard lips were pressed to the cerise contours of her dewy mouth!

  “You’re sweet, Ellen, honey!” he panted, emotionally. “You’re maddening!”

  For the moment, Ellen clung to him as he kissed the warm softness of her crimson mouth. It was as though the lonely little adventuress, devoting her life to a campaign of vengeance, had been starved for his affection and could no longer restrain herself. Her seductive figure trembled expectantly in his arms.

  Suddenly, she pushed him away, rose to her feet. “Please, Roge!” she breathed, softly.

  “Not now! You should be thinking of your duty, you know! We’d better be going inside before you’re missed!”

  Roge McKane grinned like the good fellow he was, and escorted her back into the ballroom.

  They danced again. Laughing and talking mechanically with the young detective, Ellen’s mind switched from the rather thrilling episode in the garden to the grim business directly at hand.

  Her alert mind toyed with the information obtained from the unsuspecting McKane. She knew that the moment was ripe for her endeavor, and no time must be lost!

  It required fifteen minutes of precious time to get rid of McKane. Finally, he left with a word about seeing her later. In a few moments, she had slipped away from the crowded ballroom and was traversing the spacious main corridor. It was deserted and her slippers made no sound on the thick Roneau. She moved cautiously forward, keen ears tuned to catch any slight sou
nd in the rooms on either side of the hallway.

  Midway of the long corridor, she heard a faint sound. A droning. She hesitated, listened intently.

  The sound came from the room at her right. It resolved itself into the subdued buzzing of voices, without audible words. But it was significant that the room was occupied as McKane had intimated it would be!

  With racing heart, Ellen crouched with her ear to the door. She strove to catch a word which might tell her that this was indeed the room of the guarded treasure. Finally, a few words came, louder than the rest, and in a heavy masculine voice.

  “... gettin’ sleepy, Tom. The rocks look swell, but I don’t believe there’s any danger at all.”

  “Almost midnight, Ben,” another voice replied, “and I’m thinkin’ that Domino Dame is scared out! That is, if there’s really such a dame! I’ll be glad when this night watch stuff’s finished. It’s no job for a man with brains.”

  Came the sound of raucous laughter, and then the words again became inaudible.

  Soon, the talking ceased altogether. Ellen stooped, looked through the keyhole. Across the room from the door, two men were lounging in upholstered chairs, smoking cigars.

  On a heavy teakwood table between them were a pair of capable-looking revolvers, and a large jewel case; a thing of leather and plush and velvet. Inside, no doubt, glittered the wonderful collection of flawless diamonds so prized by Ames Kettrick, but Ellen had no sure way of knowing. From the angle of the keyhole, she couldn’t see inside the jewel box! But she’d gamble it held the two hundred thousand dollar treasure just the same...

  “... guess the old boy’ll be bringing in the guests right soon, now, Ben,” one of the guards was saying.