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- Herausgeber: Al-Mashreq eBookstore
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Serie: Doc. Turner Series
- Sprache: Englisch
Corpses Pay Dividends by Arthur Leo Zagat is a spine-tingling mystery that will have you questioning the value of life and death. When a wealthy businessman is found dead, his fortune seems to become a deadly magnet for those who seek to gain from his demise. As detectives dig deeper, they uncover a dark plot where corpses are the currency in a twisted game of greed and betrayal. With each clue revealing more about the sinister underbelly of high society, the race is on to solve the case before more lives are claimed. Will the truth emerge from the shadows, or will the dividends of death continue to stack up? Prepare yourself for a thrilling ride through a web of intrigue and danger.
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Seitenzahl: 31
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Table of Contents
Corpses Pay Dividends
Synopsis
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Landmarks
Table of Contents
Cover
Corpses Pay Dividends
Synopsis
Lovely Honey Morse sprang to riches from the dregs of Morris Street. Yet when a nameless menace threatened the neighborhood of her birth, she rushed to Doc Turner, patron of the slums—unaware that her grim message would falter on lips sealed with lead!
The Spider, April 1942, with "Corpses Pay Dividends"
1
SHE entered the ancient drugstore through the front door, leaving behind the raucous Saturday night tumult of Morris Street. Her tiny feet seemed to float above the gray and rutted floor.
"Honey!" Andrew Turner exclaimed. "Honey Morse!"
The years had frosted Doc Turner's silken mane and the bushy mustache that concealed his sensitive mouth. On his bony, hollow-cheeked countenance Time had written in fine lines his kindliness and twinkling humor, his long record of service given. He was no youth to thrill to feminine loveliness, but a light shone in his faded blue eyes as Honey Morse hugged him and pressed a kiss on his dry old lips.
"Gosh, Doc!" she sighed. "It's swell to see you again."
"Let me look at you, my dear." His gnarled hands held her away so that he might do so. "How you've changed," he chuckled fondly, "since I last saw you and gave you a handful of jellybeans?"
"Why, the idea, Doc!" Honey's pout made a dusky rosebud of her mouth. "I'd have been insulted if you'd given me jellybeans the last time I was in here. I was a grown-up young lady of sixteen."
"All elbows and knees!" The old man smiled reminiscently. "Your cotton dress was patched and shabby and too short for your gangling frame. Now you are—let me, see... yes, all of twenty, lovely as a dream. The cost of your furs is more than your mother spent clothing you and your five brothers and sisters all the years I've known her."
A shadow crossed the girl's cameo features. "How—how is mother, Doc?"
"Don't you know, Honey?"
"You know I don't. You know she chased me out of the flat the day I took that job in the chorus of Gertie's Garter. She—she's never answered my letters or cashed one of the checks I sent her. Please tell me, how is she?"
"Aging, Honey, but still working hard at the factory." The old druggist's smile faded. "But you—you've changed in other ways, my dear. There was only happiness in your eyes the last time I looked into them, gaiety and young dreams. Now there is only disillusionment; and wisdom learned the hard way and—yes—and fear."
"Fear!" she cried. "How silly! What have I got to be afraid of?" But Doc felt a shudder run through her and knew he was right.
"Tell me," he said softly. "Tell me, Honey Morse, why you've come back, in your silks and fine furs?"
"Because I was born here." She pulled free from him, but her gloved, small hand reached to the heavy frame of a once-white showcase, as if for support. "I was born here and grew up here, and I know how hard these people work for the little they have, and I think it's a darned, rotten shame that—Look, Doc. You haven't changed, have you?" She peered anxiously at him from under artfully plucked brows. "You'd still go to bat for them against anyone who tried to kick them around?"
