# The Wheel of Death/Chapter 9

The second Spider novel and the last by R. T. M. Scott. First printed in vol. 1, no. 2 of the The Spider, dated November 1933, a pulp magazine in the "Hero Pulp" subgenre starring the titular vigilante.
Richard Wentworth would long since have been dead if his mind had not been capable of working with the speed of light. As the door of the elevator opened, exposing Cora and Dan Grogan, he knew that he had penetrated one of Mortimer Mack's secrets. And uncovering the secrets of such a man would no doubt prove dangerous business.
Twice before Wentworth had met Dan Grogan; once when he was posing as the underworld character with the plastered hair and the high-waisted trousers; and once as an old blind man in a long, black coat. In his real character, dressed in evening clothes from Bond Street, he did not believe that Grogan could recognize him. As for Cora, well, Wentworth knew all kinds of women.
So much he knew and considered in the split second before he acted. Then he hiccuped.
It was not a violent hiccup, just a modest little effort, which was scarcely big enough to be noticed. Wentworth pretended not to have noticed it himself. He swayed a little and commenced to speak.
"Call taxi?" he asked, looking at Grogan and again swaying slightly. "Lost my hat. No matter."
His speech was that of the man who curtails his words when under the influence of drink, but who is able to enunciate up to the point of going blotto.
It was Cora who first found her wits. "Leave him to me," she said. "He'll never know where he's been."
She stepped quickly into the elevator and closed the door upon Grogan's scowling face. Cora was one of those women who are super abundantly supplied with the knowledge of men. Although her action had been for the purpose of removing Wentworth as quickly as possible, she nevertheless recognized in him the type of man who might be exceedingly profitable to her. She pressed the first button and the car started upward.
Wentworth reached out a hand and pressed the stop button, bringing the car to a halt midway between floors "Don't want to go home now," he said.
"Well, where do you want to go?" she asked, smiling and leaning her green-clad figure against the side of the car opposite to him.
"No place," he answered. "Stay here forever."
She laughed, understanding his meaning and quite pleased by it. "We can't do that," she returned. "Somebody else might want to use this car."
"Then let's go Bermuda," he said. "Buy elevator there just for us."
She looked at him calculatingly. "You got a yacht?"
He looked depressed. "Yacht very vulgar. Let's go horseback. Get nice sea horse. Gods drive it."
Cora didn't know anything about the gods who drove sea horses. She pressed the first button again and the car commenced to rise. "You're crazy," she said.
They got out on the first floor of the duplex apartment and Wentworth insisted upon taking her into the dining room for a drink. Under instructions from Cora, and it was very decent of her, the waiter brought Wentworth a bromo seltzer which he drank and told her that it was the best gin fizz he had ever tasted except that it was just a trifle weak.
"Let's go dance," he said when he had set down his glass.
"Can't," she replied. "Wish I could, but I have another engagement and I'm late now."
"Must dance," he insisted, taking her by the arm and leading her up the stairs. "After dance we'll get sea horse and gallop to Bermuda and never come back."
And they did dance. She was an excellent dancer and he danced superbly, just as he fenced, shot, rode and swam. He told her that the gin fizz had gone to his feet, and she remembered that some drunken men can dance better than they can walk or talk. In five minutes they were Dick and Cora to each other. But she gave him little information about the Mortimer Mack establishment, and he forebore to put any direct questions. She did, however, hint that there was big gambling to be had and seemed rather surprised that he did not know about it. Once he touched on the subject of dope, and she seemed to show interest but did not pursue the subject.
Then, suddenly, Wentworth saw the politician with whom Cora had formerly been dancing, bearing down upon them from the other side of the ballroom. The politician's face was angry and his feet were not quite steady. And it was quite evident that he was going to cut in. At almost that same moment Wentworth caught sight of Nita talking to Mortimer Mack near the entrance to the ballroom. The little man's beetling eyebrows were dancing up and down, and he seemed animated as if he were quite enjoying the conversation. Wentworth decided to find out what was going on, and accordingly steered his partner straight into the angry politician, who took her over almost hungrily, like a big trout after a fat fly. Cora most certainly had that politician entangled in her meshes.
Wentworth was curious to know what Nita had done with Jerry Stone.
He was half way across the ballroom when Nita and her companion turned away and walked into the hall. He quickened his steps and reached the hall just in time to see the two of them entering the elevator. The door of the elevator closed, and the small, red light was extinguished, indicating that the car was in motion. Wentworth was just a little bit angry and just a little bit uneasy. Mack was probably taking Nita downstairs for some refreshment. It was that, or—
But Wentworth did not want to think of anything else.
He descended the curving stairs more rapidly than he believed it possible for the slow- moving elevator to reach the floor below. At the bottom of the stairs he waited, watching the door which opened upon the elevator shaft. The shaft was entirely enclosed, so that the elevator, whether in motion or stationary, was quite hidden until the door was opened. He waited several seconds anxiously and, for half a minute longer, in blank dismay.
But the door of the elevator remained shut and the elevator did not arrive.
Richard Wentworth was a man who could face his own death calmly. He could watch the death of another, if that death were necessary or unavoidable, quite as calmly. But the reverse was true— where Nita Van Sloan was concerned. Now he was calm in outward appearance only. He believed that she had been taken to the apartment below. And he could think of no reason why she should be taken there, except for purposes harmful to her.
There were several courses which he might pursue. He might break open the little door, climb down the shaft and force his way into the apartment below. He might go out into the big apartment building, descend to the lower floor and force his way into the same apartment through its outer door. And as a last resort, he might, call in the police. That course would be awkward, and he believed, too, that he could do more than they and do it more quickly.
He called a servant to him. "Where is Mr. Mack?" he asked.
"I do not know, sir."
"Tell him that Mr. Richard Wentworth sends his compliments and wishes to see him immediately."
"Very good, sir."
The servants seemed to be well trained. The man departed to look through the rooms and shortly afterward ascended the stairs to the floor above. Wentworth watched to see if he took the elevator, determined to accompany him, if possible, in that event. But he lost sight of the servant in the crowd on the floor above and, in his impatience, went to the elevator and pushed the call button himself. He would stop the car with the stop button half way between floors and tear the inside out of it until he had discovered the means of sending it to the secret apartment in which he had seen Dan Grogan.
There was some delay before the car arrived. But when it did so, there was another surprise for Wentworth. For out of the car stepped his friend, Ned Morris.
"Hello, Dick!" he exclaimed. "Nita sent me to get you."
"Nita? Is she all right?"
"Of course! Why the devil shouldn't she be?" A smile broke over Wentworth's face. "Well, then," he asked, "where the devil is she?"
Ned Morris grinned. "I forgot that you had not been initiated," he said.
"Initiated?"
Ned Morris nodded. "There is more to this damned place than is to be seen at first glance," he explained.
Wentworth was on the point of saying that he had discovered that much. But long habit caused him to resist and to accept information rather than to give it even with his old friend, Ned.
Ned Morris led the way into the empty elevator and closed the door.
"It's really not such a great secret," he said. "Lots of the guests know it. The great Mortimer Mack, himself, said I could show it to you."
"Kind of him," was Wentworth's dry remark. "Do you see this little panel at the back of the car?" continued Morris. "A spring holds it up." He pressed on it and pulled it down, revealing a button similar to the regular ones for the operation of the car. "Here we are on the top floor of Mortimer Mack's duplex apartment. You press on this button, and where do you think we go?"
"Don't know," said Wentworth, thinking of the apartment two floors below where he had seen Dan Grogan. "Do you mind telling me where we do go?"
Ned Morris grinned broadly. "To the land of fair women and vanishing money," he said, pressing the button.
And the car shot upward.