Read Online Death out of Thin Air by Clayton Rawson - Free Book Online Page A

there were so many witnesses he had to take some account of it. He spoke to Graf again.
    â€œYou said dope. Sure it couldn’t have been something like — well, nicotine for instance?”
    â€œNicotine, Inspector?” Graf looked surprised. “I know it couldn’t have been nicotine. Injected into the veins, nicotine would kill instantly. It’s a poison second only to hydrocyanic acid in its rapid action. Miss Collins wouldn’t be talking to you now if it had been nicotine.” He paused a moment. “What makes you ask that? ”
    Church scowled. “Because a girl who was murdered this afternoon and who had those same marks on her neck probably died from nicotine poisoning. At least that’s the medical examiner’s best guess, though he doesn’t think he can ever prove it.”
    Graf nodded. “He’s got a job on his hands. Nicotine is an alkaloid. Proving its presence in the body tissues, even in known cases, is often so difficult as to be impossible.”
    â€œYeah,” Church said disgustedly. “Don’t I know it! When I need you most, you doctors are about as helpful as — as blank cartridges.”
    Church turned to Pat and poured forth a barrage of questions. A good many of them Pat couldn’t answer because she didn’t know the answers, and Church didn’t like most of the answers she did give. He also didn’t like the mysterious way Dr. Graf disappeared!
    The doctor was there one minute, replacing his stethoscope and other instruments in his little black bag. The next minute he was gone. The detectives on guard at the door swore they hadn’t seen him leave.
    The Inspector glowered at Pat. “Diavolo is behind this,” he insisted. “But if he thinks he can make me vanish. he’s got another think coming.”
    Karl grinned though his head still ached. “We’ll go right to work on that, Inspector,” she said. “Would you prefer to vanish gradually or all at once?”
    The Inspector snorted. “If I get that magician, I’ll vanish him completely and for good! I’ve got the gadget that will do it, too. An electric chair!”
    Don Diavolo, behind the mirror in the house next door, didn’t hear that crack. He was busy talking to Dr. Graf.
    â€œI heard what you said about the hypnotic symptoms and the dope,” Don said, “and I’ve got a hunch. Could the stuff that was injected have been the Truth Drug?”
    â€œScopolamine?” Graf replied lifting an eyebrow. “You do read minds then, don’t you? That’s what I’ve been wondering myself. I hadn’t suggested it to the Inspector yet because I couldn’t be at all sure. But none of the symptoms contradict the theory. I’ll go that far.”
    â€œThanks, doctor. That’s all I wanted to know.”
    He picked up a phone, dialed the number of the New York Press and talked to Woody Haines. “Thanks, old boy,” he said. “You do a swell vanish. I might be able to use you in the act…. No, of course not, nary a word about the flea powder …”
    Then, in a low voice that Graf could not hear, Diavolo gave Woody rapid orders. He also heard from Woody for the first time about the De Kolta cable from London.
    He put the phone down, frowning, and turned as Mickey, who had escaped the detectives through the concealed door in the garage, came into the room — a greatly changed Mickey, wearing the flowing robes and the concealing veil of an Indian Maharanee.
    Her eyes above the veil smiled and she said, “Thy servant is ready, oh master.” She held out a .32 automatic. “But I won’t move a step unless you take this.”
    Diavolo waved it aside. “Thy counsel is as wisdom from the lips of Buddha, oh pearl of Heaven. I’m heeled already, Mike. Let’s go!”
    â€œHow,” Dr. Graf asked, “do you expect to get out of here? The street