"Shadow - 350301 - Back Pages - Grace Culver - Red Is For Fox" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Roswell)

Burton was at his desk, sleeves rolled up, forehead furrowed. Galleys of type
proof and cutsЧa three-column layout Чwere spread before him on the cluttered
working surface.
Across the story, as Grace approached, he was scrawling "Kill" with a stubby
blue pencil.
"Hi, Mongoose!"
Burton's sad eyes lighted suddenly, in recognition.
"Culver! How be you? Haven't seen you in a month ofЧ"
"I've been busy Sundays. Working."
As the city editor tossed down the galleys and swung his chair toward the
corner of the desk on which his visitor had perched from long-standing habit, the
blue word lay revealed in almost dramatic clarity.
"So they keep the lady bloodhound with her nose to the ground even on the
Sabbath, eh?"
"Nope. This business was personal,"
Burton chuckled instantly.
"Now, if your old man were sitting there and telling me that, I'd know what he
meant. Gimcracks."
Grace opened her purse with a deliberate snap and drew out a lipstick. She
turned it deftly between her fingers, studying its polished surface. There was a
queer look on her face.
"Gimcracks?" she repeated, innocently. But Burton took no notice of the
interruption.
"What I wish is, you were back here working. Honest, Red, this business is
getting me. Nothing breaks until after we're on the street, any more. And when I
do get a storyЧphooeyЧit's a phony!"
He tapped the blue-penciled galleys with a discouraged forefinger, and Grace
let her eyes follow the gesture. "Чsensational arrest in his stateroom on the
Sylvania," stared up at her. Then the blue wordЧ"Kill."
"Go oil," Burton groaned. "Go on and read it. The scoop of the month. Then
I'll tell you."
The redhead's practiced glance darted down the long, smudged columns,
gleaning the highlights of the story and instinctively skipping the frills:
"Hon. John Ribden . . . known to have Tamarov rubies in his possession on
leaving Plymouth . . . failed to declare . . . customs officials made two-hour
search . . . the jewels were discovered hidden in the false top to a cane packed in
one of the... sensational arrest . . . "
"It looks good," she said, at last.
"The "Hon. John' gives it class, and I see you've landed some big-time art for
it. What's wrong?"
"Only one little thing," Burton growled bitterly. "When they dragged this
Ribden number into court, what should the jewels in the cane top turn out to be
but a half-dozen red glass beads! Nothing to declare there. They had to let him go,
of course."
"So?"
"So instead of 'International Crook Caught In Daring Smuggle Arrest,' for
page one, column oneЧwe've got maybe six inches of humorous human-interest
stuff for the second section, on 'Were The Customs Officers' Faces Red?' You
know. And no build-up for the art, so that's out too."
Grace leered at him wickedly.