Doc. Turner's Doom-Dose E-Book

Arthur Leo Zagat

• Herausgeber: Al-Mashreq eBookstore
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: Doc. Turner Series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 27

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Doc. Turner's Doom-Dose by Arthur Leo Zagat is a thrilling medical mystery that combines high-stakes drama with a dash of suspense. When a renowned physician, Doc Turner, discovers a mysterious and deadly new drug, his life quickly spirals into chaos. As he investigates the origins of the drug, he uncovers a sinister conspiracy that could threaten countless lives. With danger closing in and trust in short supply, Doc Turner must race against time to expose the truth and prevent a catastrophe. Filled with unexpected twists and gripping tension, this novel will keep you hooked from the first page to the last.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Doc. Turner's Doom-Dose

Synopsis

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2

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Cover

Doc. Turner's Doom-Dose

Doc. Turner Series

By: Arthur Leo Zagat

Analyzed, summrized, and edited by: Rafat Allam

Copyright © 2024 by Al-Mashreq Bookstore

First published in The Spider, April 1936

No part of this publication may be reproduced whole or in part in any form without the prior written permission of the author

Synopsis

Doc Turner had mixed many a nasty brew for his ailing wards on Morris Street. Perhaps that's why, when the balance swung between life and love or death and agony, he remembered a chemist's secret to turn the crime-fixed scales...

1

A FINE drizzle of cold rain had driven Morris Street's usual midnight stragglers to the bleak shelter of their poverty-stricken warrens. The gaunt trestle of the "El" stalked, gray and somehow sinister, over deserted, rubbish-strewn cobbles. On wet-black sidewalks, the wide-spaced glimmer of dim street lamps' luminance was undisturbed...

Andrew Turner, plodding wearily homeward after one more long day in his ancient pharmacy, felt the chill strike through his shabby overcoat to penetrate the marrow of his tired, old bones. Tiny droplets of moisture hung in his bushy white mustache. Stooped, frail, feeble-seeming, he was a lonely shadow slipping through the slum night.

Door-hinges creaked, abruptly, from a high-stooped vestibule between two store-fronts. Light splashed across the concrete just ahead of Turner, and a burly form pounded down the steps.

"Jack!" the old druggist exclaimed. "Jack Ransom! What are you doing here?"

"Doc!" The broad-shouldered youth halted. "You just closed up shop?" Despite the rain, his hat was jauntily askew on his carrot-haired head and, lithely poised on spread, columnar legs, his great body swaggered. "Fine time for a young fellow like you to be getting to bed!"

Turner's faded eyes peered at the scabrous house-number, twinkling with secret amusement. "All right," Turner replied, smiling. "You don't have to answer—but that's where Ann Fawley boards, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Ransom's freckled countenance was split, suddenly, by a sheepish grin. "Yeah. We—we've been to the movies."

"So that's why I haven't seen you lately!" Doc chuckled. "You seem to have found more than a gang of drug-sellers on that last little adventure of ours."