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- Herausgeber: Al-Mashreq eBookstore
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Serie: Doc. Turner Series
- Sprache: Englisch
Doc. Turner's Killer Cure by Arthur Leo Zagat is a riveting medical thriller where a groundbreaking cure becomes a deadly weapon. Dr. Turner, a renowned scientist, has developed a revolutionary treatment that promises to eradicate a deadly disease. But when the cure starts causing inexplicable and fatal side effects, it becomes clear that someone is sabotaging Turner's work. As the body count rises and the stakes get higher, Turner must navigate a maze of deception, greed, and murder to uncover the truth. Will he be able to stop the deadly conspiracy before it's too late, or will his life's work turn into a nightmare? Dive into this heart-pounding thriller where every dose could be your last.
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Seitenzahl: 31
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Table of Contents
Doc. Turner's Killer Cure
Synopsis
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Table of Contents
Cover
Doc. Turner's Killer Cure
Synopsis
Into Doc Turner's helpless, poverty-stricken neighborhood that monster came—crushing to splintered pulp the heads of his paralyzed victims. But Doc had fought for his beloved poor before—and he knew how to catch a killer with a corpse!
The Spider, December 1937, with "Doc Turner's Killer Cure"
1
"ONCE, longer ago than I care to recall," Andrew Turner said, "I was becalmed with a friend in a fog so thick that even across our twelve-foot yawl we were only vague shadows to one another. The rest of the world was only a featureless grayness, but, all around us, we were aware, were hundreds of small craft like ours. We had no compass, and, swinging at anchor, had lost our bearings—yet we knew that the steamer from Boston was due to pass." He paused before continuing.
"At any instant, from any direction, that steamer would come plunging out of the fog, a looming and certain death to any in its path. Only chance would determine which would survive and which be smashed. There was nothing anyone could do to avoid disaster... This thing is like that." His voice died slowly away.
From under the white eaves of his shaggy brows, the old pharmacist peered apprehensively through his store door at the bustle of a Morris Street Saturday night. "A terrible death surges silently down upon us out of the sightless unknown. We know it will strike, but we do not know whom it will take. And there is nothing we can do about it—nothing at all."
On the scratched and grimy glass top of an ancient showcase, Doc's gnarled hand curled slowly till it was a fist, blue-veined under yellow, almost transparent skin. It seemed to be throttling something evil—but it closed only on emptiness.
"Hell, Doc!" Jack Ransom grunted, small muscles ridging the blunt line of his jaw, the youthful good humor of his broadly sculptured features masked by grim, smouldering wrath. "We've been up against some pretty tough propositions together, and we've licked them. We'll lick this one, too."
"We have to." The weight of his years seemed to weigh more heavily tonight on Doc Turner's stooped, frail figure. "But how?" His blue eyes were more faded, his grizzled, bushy mustache more ragged. "How do we combat something that strikes without warning, without apparent reason, and leaves no trace behind?" But there was still about him a strange, indomitable quality that somehow had more of strength than all the swelling muscles of Ransom's squat, barrel-chested frame. "Three times—last night, the night before, and the night before that—his victims have been found in bed, no trace of anyone's having been in their rooms but their skulls smashed to a pulp of brains and splintered bone, and..."
"I know," the youth breathed, thrusting spatulate fingers through the carrot-hued tangle of his hair. "I saw Rosa Galluppi..." He cut off, shuddering.
"What did he want from that poor scrubwoman, Jack, troubling no one, having nothing, concerned only with her bitter struggle for bare existence? What does he want from my people?"
"I don't know," the other groaned. "I can't understand—"
THEY were silent for a long moment, gazing out at those for whom they had fought, so often and so well, against the human vultures who prey on the helpless poor.
