Shrieking Coffins by G

by Monte Herridge

length. A squad of police—something that the

  bounded over and over until it reached the

  town did not possess, might have found snow.

  Letchman. But Marco alone hadn’t a chance.

  Marco sprang forward, covering the

  He turned disgustedly to meet Will

  space between the startled Kemper and the

  Kemper—Kemper with a handkerchief to his

  body in long strides. The man had landed flat

  nose.

  on his face. Marco, holding a light that

  “I’m afraid I’m catching cold,” said

  trembled in his left hand, seized one flesh-

  Will.

  warm hand and turned the man over. A

  Marco groaned. There was no doubt

  shudder of nausea passed over him. He let the

  about it—Kemper was cut out for a professor

  body fall back, hiding the gory mass that had

  after all!

  once been a face.

  Secret Agent X

  18

  “Wh-who is it? Kemper panted as he

  right now. We’ve got to nail this thing! It’s

  came up.

  more than murder. It’s race suicide if Trim’s

  “God only knows,” Marco husked. formula is put together and sold for military

  “Features utterly wiped out—pulped!” He purposes.

  forced his horrified eyes from the gruesome

  spectacle.

  IN another minute or so, they were crossing

  Kemper was twisting nervously at a

  the light-bordered field of the college airport.

  scrap of paper that he had picked up. Then he

  The electric beacon continued its tireless

  seemed to suddenly become aware of what his

  sweep across the black sky. Strategic approach

  fingers were doing.

  would be impossible. The combined hangar

  “Look here, Marco!” he exclaimed. “I

  and aviation building was dotted with a few

  found this paper right here on the sidewalk.

  lights. Marco asked Kemper if there was a

  It—it’s got blood on it. Looks like a scrap

  ground crew on duty.

  from a note book—”

  “No,” came the reply. “Just one man.

  Marco snatched the paper from his You see the port is off the regular air lanes friend’s hand. “Might have been in the and was placed here just for the students who coffin.”

  are studying flying.”

  He stared in silence at the two words

  They entered the door at the foot of a

  scrawled across the paper: “Sin—Letchman.”

  field observation tower that reared its square

  “Got it!” Marco rapped. “Whoever this

  bulk five stories into the air. Dim lights

  poor devil was, he tried in his last moments,

  burned in the hall and stairway. The very

  inside the coffin, probably, to tell us who his

  silence was foreboding.

  killers were. Hsin and Letchman!”

  “Catapult is on the roof of the hangar,”

  “B-but—” Kemper sputtered, “Hsin is

  explained Kemper. “There’s a door leading

  dead!”

  out on the roof from the third landing of this

  “Of course, but remember the man tower.”

  who wrote this note might have just made a

  “Quiet,” cautioned Marco. He was

  wild guess. We’ve no way of knowing.”

  mounting the stairs swiftly, silently, senses

  “Then—then this,” Kemper indicated

  alert to catch any sound from within the

  the corpse, “this means that the killers have

  building.

  another one of those coveted slips. That makes

  At the third floor landing, Marco

  the third! Two more to go, Marco. We’ve got

  stepped out on the roof. It was a broad, flat,

  to get busy!”

  snow covered surface, a miniature landing

  Yes, this was the third. Their puny

  field in itself. Two extension lamps sent feeble

  efforts to halt the murder machine seemed

  illumination across the roof. At one end,

  futile. Those who possessed the sinister slips

  directly over the hangar door, was a steel

  from Trim’s formula were marked for murder.

  crane. Probably it had been used to raise

  A cold shudder trailed along Marco’s spine.

  supplies to the roof where Letchman had

  He fought back the temptation to throw away

  constructed his catapult. The curious machine

  the little scrap of paper that was hidden in his

  itself, that had been so fiendishly employed,

  cameo ring. He had a hunch, a vague hunch,

  consisted of a long steel track that extended

  that that slip of paper would be his ace in the

  over the edge of the roof and tilted towards the

  hole.

  tower of Kalvin Hall.

  “The airport, Will,” he said grimly.

  This, Marco decided, was the track

  “The killer and his crowd must be out there

  from which the coffins had been launched by

  Shrieking Coffins

  19

  means of a complicated system of weights and

  A knife slashed Marco’s coat down the

  levers. Marco played his flashlight on the back. Rough hands peeled it from his murder machine. Propulsion power, it seemed,

  shoulders. Marco saw that a third hooded

  originated at a central piston and cylinder,

  criminal had joined the others upon the roof

  arrangement operated by compressed air. This

  and was busily engaged in ripping Marco’s

  power would be tremendously amplified by

  coat to shreds and examining the lining.

  means of the lever system. Compressed air, it

  Marco’s suit coat underwent a similar

  appeared, was piped from somewhere in the

  examination and he was left standing in his

  lower part of the building.

  shirt sleeves, shivering in the cold.

  “You see, Will,” he explained, “the

  “If you’re looking for the piece of

  coffins are placed on that track in front of the

  Trim formula that came from Colonel

  propelling lever.”

  Samons’ wallet, save your time,” he said. “I

  A chuckle from behind Marco. haven’t got it.”

  “Maybe you’d like a demonstration.”

  “We’ll find out,” grumbled one of the

  That wasn’t Kemper’s voice! Marco

  men. And without a word of warning, his right

  pivoted and bumped into a shadowy-figure.

  fist came up in a cruel slashing blow to

  Something descended upon his gun wrist with

  Marco’s chin. The detective reeled backwards.

  bone shattering force. His gun dropped His knees struck something and he fell full soundlessly into the snow. Right arm length into something soft. His hands, temporarily crippled by the blow, Marco grasping frantically, seized the cold, metal pounded into the man’s middle with his left

  edge of—a coffin! He tried to sit up.

  fist His assailant recoiled and Marco leaped to

  Somebody’s foot kicked him in the chest. He

  push his vantage point for all it was worth. His

  fell back on the soft death-cushion. The heavy

  arm flexed for another blow that never went

  lid dropped, crushing his finger tips,
<
br />   across. Fingers of steel gripped Marco from

  smothering him in a blackness that was

  behind. A second man was upon him. The icy

  literally sepulchral.

  nose of an automatic pressed into the back of

  Marco gasped, kicked madly within

  Marco’s neck. A muffled voice spoke:

  his narrow confines. Then he relaxed.

  “Hold it, bo! Want a slug in your Something was pricking painfully into the noggin?”

  flesh of his side. He knew that beneath the

  There’s a coffin waiting for you, Mr.

  deceiving soft cushions were steel spikes

  Marco. Get him over to the catapult, Winters,”

  hungry for his blood. Above his head, a small

  ordered another man.

  row of holes were drilled in the lid of the

  “Don’t be so glib wit’ my monicker,”

  coffin.

  grumbled Winters, evidently the same man

  Someone outside the coffin was

  who had disappeared with the load of coffins.

  speaking. His voice sounded far away. “Mr.

  The other man seized Marco’s arm and

  Marco, as soon as we have the slip you took

  shoved him back towards the catapult. It was

  from Colonel Samons’ wallet, you will be

  then that Marco saw that both of his captors

  permitted to go free.”

  wore black

  “Like hell!” Marco retorted. “You got

  hoodlike masks. Where was Will Kemper?

  similar slips from Scolar and Brandon. If you

  “Now,” said the man who had first

  hadn’t, you wouldn’t keep on trying to get the

  attacked Marco, “put up your hands. We’ll

  missing pieces.”

  search you thoroughly. If you haven’t got

  “I suppose you realize that we can

  what we want, you’ll tell us where it is.”

  keep you there indefinitely,” the voice went

  Secret Agent X

  20

  on. “A living man finds a coffin a tiresome

  Marco tensed himself. Slowly the lid

  place to rest. Especially is it tiresome when we

  raised a crack. “Hand the paper to me,” the

  attach a little electric hammer to the lid of the

  leader commanded.

  coffin and let it tap-tap-tap just above your

  Marco’s arm snaked through the

  head until the persistent, monotonous sound

  opening. His fingers extended the slip of paper

  drives you mad. Brandon held out just thirty

  to meet the killer’s hand. Then Marco moved!

  minutes under such torment. It will be easier

  With a desperate heave, he threw back the lid

  for you to tell us where the slip is now.”

  of the coffin and sprang to his feet. A cry of

  alarm from the masked man. “Power!” he

  INSIDE the coffin, Marco’s hands were screamed.

  moving rapidly. His fingers trembled along his

  A lever crashed into place. Marco

  vest. His fountain pen! They had left that! He

  leaped clear just as the coffin shot screeching

  jerked it out, unscrewed the cap, remembering

  into space. He landed in a maze of snarling

  ruefully how he had used that pen in a sleight-

  machinery. A moving lever knocked him flat,

  of-hand trick early that night. He flipped back

  but saved his life, he knew, as a bullet shrilled

  the cameo setting of his ring and took out the

  above his head. Marco rolled under a beam,

  scrap of paper. In the dark, he scribbled a line

  seized a guy wire, and pulled to his feet. Then

  on the paper with his pen.

  he raced across the roof, zigzagging through

  He could feel the coffin being raised.

  snow while two automatics barked and bullets

  He heard the clash of steel as it was lowered

  whined inches from his body.

  to the track. He knew that as soon as he

  He gained the door and was alternately

  handed over the paper, the fiends would pull

  striding, falling, stumbling down the steps. He

  the lever, sending him hurtling through the

  did not know where he was going. He only

  freezing dark with air screaming through the

  knew that he could not land in a hotter spot

  holes in the coffin lid threatening to burst his

  than he had been in. Marco crashed through a

  eardrums. Then a last sickening crash.

  door and found himself in a basement.

  “Hey,” he shouted, “I’ll come across!

  A shadowy form, a hooded, fiendish

  Can’t stand this any longer.”

  devil leaped, out at him. Marco led with his

  A chuckle from outside the coffin. “He

  right to the man’s head. The hooded killer

  hasn’t the guts like them seedy profs.” It was

  ducked and yelled, “Marco, you jackass!”

  the truckster, Winters, who had spoken.

  Marco reined in his second blow. He

  A whispered conversation outside the

  stared at the masked face. “Will!” he

  coffin. Footsteps across the roof. Then another

  whispered huskily. “You?”

  voice spoke. “Tell us, Mr. Marco, where the

  “Hell, yes. In another moment, if I’d

  slip is.”

  met that haymaker of yours, I’d have been

  “I’ve got it here with me,” Marco candidate for a coffin.” Will’s hand came up replied.

  and jerked off the hood-mask. “Swiped this

  “Impossible! We searched you from a friend of ours. I was afraid you’d get in thoroughly.”

  a tight spot and I was going to be the hero and

  Marco forced a laugh that echoed come to the rescue. When you started up the hollowly. “Remember, I’m a magician. Open

  stairs, I suddenly decided I’d look around

  the lid and I will give it to you.”

  below. I do things like that I came down here,

  “It’s a trick,” someone whispered.

  found some of those hi-jacked coffins. I was

  “Never mind. Stand by the lever! I’ll

  looking them over, when a masked man came

  cover him with the gun.”

  in. Well, I closed in fast. It didn’t last long. I

  Shrieking Coffins

  21

  beat a lot of things out of that masked devil

  cursed in a hoarse voice that Marco

  before he tried a getaway. Then I think I broke

  recognized as belonging to Winters. A gun in

  his neck. Come take a look at him.”

  the truckster’s hand nosed threateningly at

  Kemper pulled back a door and Marco’s middle. One glanced across the field pointed to a huddled heap of flesh.

  through the open door and Marco saw a plane

  Marco gasped. “That little shrimp was

  taxiing across the field. He ignored the gun in

  in it too?” For in spite of the fact that the

  the truckster’s hand, led a chopping blow to

  man’s head was turning blue-black from the man’s jaw, at the same time seizing Kemper’s pommeling, Marco recognized Mr.

  Winter’s gun wrist. A bullet creased Marco’s

  Welsh, the history instructor.

  shoulder. Another shot crashed out. The

  Suddenly he remembered the scene in

  criminal doubled, dropped his gun, and

&n
bsp; the steam tunnel when he had come across the

  clutched at his belly. Will Kemper came out of

  body of Hsin. He remembered the masked

  the basement way, red hair upstanding. Smoke

  man who had shot at him from the other side

  dribbled from the nose of his automatic.

  of the coffin. He remembered that the passage

  Marco scooped the wounded

  had been so nearly blocked off that he could

  criminal’s gun from the floor and ran from the

  not follow the slayer. Only a very small man

  hangar. The plane was taxiing into the wind.

  like Welsh could have got through that hole.

  “They’re going to get away, Marco!”

  “The coffins weren’t hijacked,” shouted Kemper.

  explained Kemper. “Welsh confessed, before

  he caved in, that Winters, the truck driver, had

  CHAPTER VI

  been employed by them. He simply drove the

  THE MAN WHO LIED

  truck and all over here to the airport to join the

  gang. Someone in the crowd decided that they

  BUT Marco saw something that Kemper had

  could make good use of those coffins. Burk,

  evidently failed to see. A big touring car was

  the airport attendant was in it, too. Trim gave

  plowing across the landing field. Its powerful

  one of his formula parts to Welsh so that gave

  headlights were suddenly switched on, cutting

  them something to start on. But the real leader

  a clean swath to the nose of the airplane. Men

  of the pack remains a mystery. Welsh went

  spilled from the car—men with-rifles,

  out before I could get that out of him.”

  automatics, machine guns.

  Marco nodded. “I know who he is. My