Free Doc Savage: Death's Dark Domain by Will Murray Lester Dent Kenneth Robeson Page B

mystery for you to solve. It landed on my doorstep.”
    A touch of concern entered the bronze man’s well-modulated voice. “Say again?”
    “Someone sent me a package. I imagine they thought it would get to you through me
     faster than if it was expressed to your headquarters.”
    A repressed urgency threaded the big bronze man’s tone. “What type of package?”
    “Oh, it was a steamer trunk. The usual thing. It landed at my beauty salon—”
    “No, what was in the package?”
    “A raccoon coat.”
    “That is all?” queried Doc.
    “No, sitting on it was Eloise.”
    “Eloise?”
    “I think,” Pat suggested, “you ought to swing by and see Eloise for yourself.”
    “We will be right there. In the meantime, don’t touch anything!”
    “Too late.”
    “I mean it, Pat.”
    But Pat Savage had already hung up. She was Doc Savage’s cousin, and a frequent horner-in
     on his adventures, much to the bronze man’s unalloyed displeasure.
    Doc Savage called to the others. “Monk. Ham. There may be trouble at Pat’s place.”
    “What kind of trouble?” inquired Ham, giving his slim dark cane a spin.
    “Package from an unknown party.”
    Monk growled, “We’d better haul our freight over there.”
    Doc Savage went to a gunmetal gray sedan with a long nose and a generous wheelbase.
     He climbed behind the wheel, Monk and Ham jumping aboard as Doc got the car in motion.
     The bronze man was wasting no time.
    The doors facing the street rolled up as if by magic, and the sedan slid into traffic.
     A radio signal from the vehicle had actuated a mechanism, which impelled the electric
     doors to open. All of Doc’s machines were thus equipped.
    PATRICIA, INCORPORATED, was an establishment off Park Avenue catering to the upper
     crust of Manhattan womanhood. It was a combination beauty salon and gymnasium. There,
     a woman of means could have her hair coiffed, her face encased in a mudpack and unwanted
     pounds taken off with various machines designed for that exact purpose. It was all
     very high-brow.
    Doc Savage pushed into the modernistic lobby and a polished blonde receptionist stood
     up, her mouth dropping open.
    “M-Mr. Savage! Wh-what are you doing here?” she blurted out. “I mean, I will fetch
     Miss Savage.”
    Although it was no secret that Patricia, Incorporated, was owned by Doc Savage’s cousin,
     the bronze man was not known to enter the establishment, as a rule. So his arrival
     occasioned quite a flurry and fluttering among staff and customers both.
    Doc followed the receptionist to Patricia’s private office.
    A bronze-haired girl with a coat of tan to match stood up from her desk and beamed
     perfect teeth. Her eyes sparkled with a golden glint that caught the attention. This
     was Patricia Savage. Her beauty made all others resemble wilted flowers.
    “Doc!” she hailed. “Meet Eloise!”
    Sitting on the desk was a hairy creature which regarded them with gimlet eyes.
    “Hey, it’s a monkey!” howled Monk.
    The monkey took one look at the apish chemist and placed both hands atop her head
     as if encountering a long-lost relative. She gave out a sharp squeak and dived under
     the desk.
    Pat reached down and pulled Eloise out by her tail, which nature had decorated with
     raccoon-like rings.
    “Pat,” Doc said sternly. “Set the monkey down.”
    Pretty Pat made a face. “Why, Eloise doesn’t bite. Or at least she hasn’t yet.” Doc
     Savage removed his coat and used it to gather up the monkey.
    Eloise was not happy. She struggled, but the bronze man made his metallic hands into
     a vise to keep her from escaping.
    Ham Brooks moved in and scrutinized the struggling creature.
    “Reminds me of my pet ape, Chemistry,” he sniffed.
    “Maybe you can marry them off and I’ll get some peace,” grunted Monk.
    “You nitwit! At least I possess a pet suitable for a gentleman. Not a pig.”
    The dapper lawyer was not calling the apish chemist a pig. Rather, Monk had a pet
     porker. He