"deaths_option" - читать интересную книгу автора (Barton Gary)

"Who is this guy?" I said to the little paunchy man who was nervously
wringing his hands next to me. It was the fellow who had been making the
play for the blonde. I said, "And who are you?" I bent down to examine
the dead man.

"He's Lucius Goldswaite. He ... he must have had a heart attack or--"

"Heart attack--hell!" I snapped. I had seen the blue tinge on the otherwise
florid face. Goldswaite's lips were purple-black; his tongue swollen. He was
dead! I said: "He's been murdered!"

"M-murdered?" The short fellow seemed about to fold on that one. His jaw
sagged and his watery-blue eyes swam in his head. B-but-"

"Who are you?" I shot at him again.

"M-my name's Gracey, Marshall Gracey. I'm ... was Mr. Goldswaite's associate."

Gracey--Goldswaite. The names clicked in my mind. Goldswaite & Gracey.
Lucius Goldswaite was the biggest theatrical producer on Broadway. It rang
another bell.

"Where's that girl?" I looked through the mob that crowded the table. "The
babe with the black hair--the one that was sitting here?" I didn't see her.

Gracey swung his eyes over the room, his mouth worked overtime. "Janet
Marsh? She was ... here a-"

A helluva lot of good that did me. She wasn't here now! She'd lammed!

"Who is Janet Marsh?" I took a shot in the dark. "Why did she murder
Goldswaite?"

"She didn't!" It was the darkhaired chap who had been sitting with Janet
Marsh. "She didn't kill Goldswaite. She . . . she probably got frightened
and ... and-"

I'll say she got frightened, I thought. She was frightened before the
producer was murdered!

"How do you know she didn't kill him?" The blonde's tone could have been
used to advertise frosted foods. "I'd say she had plenty of reason to kill
Goldswaite."

"Shut up, Lana!" the young chap shouted.

I figured I might have something here.

"Go on," I said to Lana. "What's the dope on Goldswaite and Janet Marsh?"