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Doc Turner's Death Antidote by Arthur Leo Zagat is a riveting medical mystery that will keep you hooked from start to finish. When a renowned scientist, Dr. Turner, discovers a groundbreaking antidote that could revolutionize medicine, he becomes the target of a deadly conspiracy. As he races against time to protect his discovery, he uncovers a web of deceit and danger that reaches into the darkest corners of the medical world. With each twist and turn, the stakes grow higher, and the question becomes not just about the antidote, but who will survive to see its truth revealed. Dive into this pulse-pounding thriller where science and suspense collide.
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Doc Turner's Death Antidote
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Cover
None but Doc Turner, working faithfully in the interests of the neighborhood he serves, could have saved the little Frenchman. None but he could have pierced the mystery veil which hid that murder in the making!
The Spider, June 1934, with "Doc Turner's Death Antidote"
DOC TURNER'S faded blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied the prescription in his hand. The man who had just handed him the white slip shoved a dollar bill across the counter with stubbed fingers whose nails were black- edged. Doc took it mechanically and said, "Seventy-five cents. Same address, John?"
"Yeah." The huskiness in the man's voice confirmed the evidence of the fine red lines in his bulbous nose. "Three-oh- four Morris Street, top floor, rear." He looked drearily at the quarter Doc was handing him and said, "Say, cantcher break that, mister? Th' old girl ain't got no change an' she might fergit to gimme the jit' if she don't do it right away."
The white-haired pharmacist moved slowly as he went back to the register and rang up a "No Sale." The medicine order was quite ordinary, he thought. It called for two drams of Fowler's Solution and enough elixir of lactated pepsin to make up four ounces, of which the patient was to take a teaspoonful three times a day in water. That made the dose of the arsenical solution a little less than four drops at a time, high but not unusual. It was an ordinary tonic, Doc had made up thousands like it in the years since he had first opened the pharmacy on Morris Street. But there was something wrong. This was the third time in five days the prescription was being refilled, and each bottle should have lasted ten days.
"Way she squeezes it out," John continued his grumbling, "ye'd think it were a dollar. Wanted me to take this 'un up to Norton's 'stead o' here. Fat chance o' me walkin' extry for five measly pennies." What passed for slyness peered out of his bleared eyes. "I didn't say nothin', but when it comes with your label, she'll take it an' like it."
Andrew Turner shot him a startled glance. "How is the patient?" he asked softly. "Getting any better?"
"Dunno. I ain't seen him sence th' old dame come. She ain't let me inside the door. Nobody's gone in 'cept her an' that young snip of a doctor she called. I didn't think Misoor Pellateer wuz lookin' any sicker then he allus did, but she said he wuz dyin' on his feet. She said she wuz his sister an' she wuzn't goin' to let him go any longer without proper attention."