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42<br />
ìIn the sock,î he explained. ìI saw you,<br />
so letís not have an argument.î<br />
She made a cat-quick grab for the<br />
shotgun, but he put a foot on it. She sat there<br />
for a while, her hand on the gun, her eyes on<br />
him hatefully.<br />
ìJoseph!î she said. ìShoot him! Heís<br />
one of them!î<br />
Joseph, perfectly willing to oblige, felt<br />
for his gun. ìItís gone!î he screamed. ìI<br />
musta lost it!î He sounded horrified over the<br />
loss of the gun.<br />
ìIíve got it,î Doc told him. ìI picked your<br />
pocket.î<br />
Trudy Stevens suddenly tried to snatch<br />
the documents out of her stocking and throw<br />
them overboard. In the brief flurry of movement,<br />
he got slapped twice, quite hard, but<br />
he got the sheets of paper.<br />
ìWe wonít sink,î he explained cheerfully.<br />
ìI opened the seacock, then closed it<br />
again.î<br />
He was pleased with his cupidity.<br />
He took the shotgun, the .22 rifle, and<br />
Josephís remarkable pistol, and went down<br />
into the cabin, after he had moved Joseph<br />
back into the cockpit. He was careful to keep<br />
an eye on them as he spread the documents<br />
out on the top of the motor box, which served<br />
as a cabin table.<br />
He was surprised at what he found.<br />
But more puzzled than surprised.<br />
In one respect the sheets of paper, five<br />
of them, were all similar. They were listings<br />
of different items. They could have been an<br />
inventory, except that no mercantile or business<br />
establishment would conceivably carry<br />
such an oddly differing assortment.<br />
The items included stocks and bonds,<br />
such names as Bergman Et Cie., ICS Centrales,<br />
Moulin St. Clee, listings of property.<br />
The first sheet was signed at the bottom:<br />
Samuel Fleish.<br />
He lifted a wary eye toward the cockpit,<br />
frowned.<br />
The second, third, fourth and fifth<br />
sheets were much similar, but not duplicates<br />
of the first. They could have been duplicates<br />
except that the items listed were different.<br />
After each item, there was a code letter combination<br />
which he surmised was a price cipher.<br />
All were signed: Samuel Fleish, and the<br />
last three sheets were thumbprinted.<br />
He frowned at the name. Fleish.<br />
Fleish . . . The only Fleish he had heard of<br />
important enough to cause Charlotte to get<br />
DOC SAVAGE<br />
excited was the head of a Swiss banking cartel.<br />
Or at least there had been a Fleish who<br />
had headed . . . Had been! That was it. Had<br />
been. The fellow was at present in the hands<br />
of the Allied military authorities. He was one<br />
of those awaiting arraignment in the war guilt<br />
trials.<br />
Trudy Stevens was watching him intently.<br />
ìI donít get it,î he said.<br />
She didnít say anything. Just scowled<br />
at him.<br />
He said, ìSamuel Fleish, of Internationale<br />
Suisse Fleish, 23 Rue Pendule, Zurich,<br />
Switzerland.î He tapped the papers. ìIs<br />
this the same guy?î<br />
ìYou ought to know,î she said.<br />
He shook his head slowly. ìYou overestimate<br />
me. Iím just a poor free-lance muddling<br />
along.î<br />
She didnít believe that. What she did<br />
believe, he had no idea. But she leaned forward<br />
suddenly and in a bitter voice asked,
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