Read The Avenger 22 - The Black Death for Free Online Page B

sighed in a sort of patiently exasperated way.
    “That television scrambler!” he said. “It’s been the bane of the old man’s life. Ever since a reporter got wind of it and published a short item about it, Hannon’s had the life deviled out of him by all sorts of people. And the crazy part is he never succeeded with it, anyway.”
    “He didn’t?” said Smitty in amazement. “You mean, he never perfected it?”
    “He hadn’t while I was with him,” said Miller. “If he succeeded later, I haven’t heard about it.”
    Smitty and Nellie stared at each other. If the inventor hadn’t completed the television scrambler, then the only apparent motive for violence against him had been removed.
    They talked to the young mechanical engineer a little more. He told them what they’d already discovered: No one of all his friends and associates had any idea where he was; several important business deals were waiting his signature; all anyone knew was that the elderly man had gone away for a complete rest and told no one where.
    “Well, his daughter will know if anybody does,” said Smitty. “On our way, Nellie.”
    But Dan Miller got up as well as Nellie.
    “You’re going to talk to Miss Hannon? Sounds like an excellent idea. But suppose I come along. I’ve known Alicia for years. She might tell me things she wouldn’t want to confide to strangers. That is, if there is anything to tell.”
    “Good enough,” said Nellie. “We’ll be glad to have you with us.”

    The Hannon’s apartment was in a building on the East River. It was a big building, pretty fancy. The Hannons, it appeared, had an extra-large apartment—two standard ones thrown into one—on the top floor on the river side.
    Nellie and Dan Miller and Smitty rode up in an automatic elevator unannounced. Nellie pressed the buzzer outside the door.
    Smitty didn’t know quite what pleasant words of entrance the tiny blonde had cooked up. Whatever they were, they were never used, because the giant spoke first when the door was opened by a tall, pretty girl with dark-brown hair and lovely dark-brown eyes.
    “It’s her!” he exploded.
    The girl glared at him and tried to shut the door. He had his capacious foot in the way. He pushed it open and the three went in. Miller was staring in astonishment at the big fellow, but Nellie was not. Nellie knew why he had galvanized to this sudden action.
    The girl, Alicia Hannon, was the pretty bandit who had taken the black orchid from Mac’s drugstore.
    Alicia Hannon stopped glaring, after a minute, and began to smile. The effect was charming, in spite of the circumstances.
    “Hello,” she said to Smitty. “I feel all right now. The help I got from you in that drugstore fixed me right up. What can I do for you?”
    Smitty was bewildered. He’d heard of Schuyler Marcy’s ferocious attack on The Avenger in the Bleek Street room, and his subsequent change to a polite, pleasant person. Now, this girl acted first like a wounded tigress, then like any polite hostess. The world seemed suddenly full of polite maniacs.
    “For one thing,” said Nellie, answering the question for the giant, “you can tell us why you wanted that black orchid so badly. For another, you can tell us where your father is.”
    “Telling about my father will take quite awhile,” said Alicia, looking distressed. “I’ll answer your question about the orchid. Will you step into the next room with me? It’s a sort of town workshop my father fixed in the apartment. The black orchid is in there on a workbench.”
    She went across the room onto which the outer door had opened—a huge living room, richly furnished. She opened a door on the other side.
    Nellie was quite properly suspicious of this girl. Being feminine herself, she wasn’t so easily fooled by an engaging surface manner. She looked into this second room pretty carefully before entering.
    The room showed itself to be a quite innocent place. It was almost bare. At one side was