"Doc Savage Adventure 1934-11 Death in Silver" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doc Savage Collection)

"No," said Monk. "What is it?"

"A number of men have been killed in the course of the thefts," Doc stated.

"Sure. But men are often killed during robberies."

"In each case, these men were prominent," Doc explained patiently. "And on one or two occasions, the thefts during which they were shot down were of a trivial nature. I can give you one very good example."

"Let's have it," Monk requested.

"Two weeks ago a gang of the Silver Death's-Heads, seven of them to be exact, held up a small filling station on Long Island," Doc announced. "The filling station was very small and never had more than a few dollars on hand. But a limousine had just driven into the station to fill up with gas. It was occupied by a wealthy man named Kirkland Le Page. He was shot and killed. The filling station attendant was lying on the floor of his station at the time and did not see what provoked the shooting. Le Page was driving his car himself."

"I remember," said Monk.

"Kirkland Le Page was vice president of Transatlantic Company, owners of the liner Avallancia, which was later sunk by the Silver Death's-Heads," Doc stated.

"Blazes!" exploded Monk. "There's something big behind this!"

"Exactly," Doc agreed.


MONK stood silently in the telephone booth, mentally turning over what Doc Savage had just revealed. The homely chemist nodded slowly to himself. He would have been willing to bet that Doc had been on the verge of investigating the weird Silver Death's-Heads, even if this afternoon's explosion had not occurred.

Monk opened his mouth to speak further - but things began to happen.

There was a stifled yell from the lobby behind Monk, where Ham and the policeman stood. Feet pounded on the lobby floor. There was another yell. A shot banged.

Monk tried to turn. His shoulder spread was vast, the telephone booth small. At first he did not make it. He squirmed to get around.

The booth had glass windows. With a jangling crash, these
caved in. Glass showered Monk. The homely chemist got a
flash of a hand encased in a silver glove. The hand held a
heavy automatic.

Silver glove and weighty gun were all that Monk saw. The weapon lashed for his head. He sought to duck. The booth was too small, and the automatic came down full on the top of his nubbin of a head.

Monk slumped and never felt the gun club down on his head twice again, the blows murderously vicious.



Chapter 4

TWO SILVER MURDERS


DOC Savage heard the ugly sounds of the blows upon Monk's head, for there had been no time for the homely chemist to replace the telephone receiver, and telephones are sensitive.

Doc listened closely. The noise had been distinct enough to tell what had happened. Over the wire came scuffling sounds, grunts, which meant that Monk's bulk was being hauled from the booth. Then the telephone receiver in the booth must have been replaced; there was a click, with silence afterward.

Doc Savage had been bending over an expensively inlaid table as he conversed with Monk. He straightened, and his tremendous physical build was apparent to its fullest. The telephone, the massive table, seemed to shrink beside him; yet it was only in comparison to these objects that his full proportions were evident.