"Daniels, Norman A - Paid To Die - Avenger 4003 backstory" - читать интересную книгу автора (Daniels Norman A)

was moving very fast. He seemed to be heading for the edge of the huge roof. O'Hara went after him,
ducking around chairs and beds, waiting for a chance to get home a bullet that would stop the
murderer. Such a chance didn't come. For a second the killer vanished from sight behind a row of
potted ferns. Then there was a wild shriek! O'Hara skidded to a halt. The killer was going over the
edge of the roof, leaping to a certain doom. O'Hara wasn't sure whether he tripped or had
deliberately thrown himself over rather than be captured.

A second later O'Hara heard the thud as the body hit the court below. He whirled, raced back to
the stairway and went down the steps three at a time. He found the floor bustling with activity. A
surgeon emerged from Clayton's room and O'Hara grabbed his arm.

"Into the elevator. Another case for you, although I think the medical examiner is the real guy
who should be here. How's Clayton?"

"Dead--stone dead. But what's this about another--"

"The guy who knifed Clayton jumped off the roof. Come on--more speed."

They found two ambulance orderlies kneeling beside the killer's body. The surgeon made only a
very brief examination.

"Of course he's dead! Every bone in his body is broken."

O'Hara turned the body over, began peeling off the bandage until he found it was held in place
by two clasps so that he could open it, like a book. When he removed it, O'Hara gasped.

Detective Hal King's face looked up at him!

Oddly enough it wasn't marked, but O'Hara saw a lump on King's head and some dried blood matting
his hair. He glanced inside the cleverly constructed bandage-mask and frowned.

"Call the medical examiner and headquarters, will you, doc?" he asked. "I've got work to do."


O'Hara commandeered an ambulance and encouraged the driver to push his foot to the floor boards.
In the neighborhood of Clayton's Jewelry Store, O'Hara got out and walked briskly down the street to
a lunch cart run by a Greek known only by the name of Nick. He sat down at the counter and ordered
coffee.

"How's it, sergeant?" Nick was beefy and thick-necked.

"Tricks," O'Hara grumbled, "are not so hot. There was another jewelry store knocked over.
Say--you seen anything of my buddy, Hal King? He was coming down here for chow?"

Nick shrugged his big shoulders. "No seen him, sergeant. Ain't been in tonight. Say, how about
some nice fresh mushrooms on toast, huh?"

O'Hara didn't feel much like eating and shook his head. He drank a mouthful of coffee, put
fifteen cents on the counter, despite Nick's protests, and headed for the door. He walked along the
sidewalk, hardly aware of what he was doing. Was Hal King a crook, a double-crosser posing as a cop