"Grant, Maxwell - Gypsy.Vengeance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

curiosity. He turned as Cardona finished speaking. He started for the stairs. CARDONA did not see the man's dark visage. The departing gypsy wore a knowing smile that the detective would have challenged had he observed it. His lips, half scornful, seemed to denote a double knowledge. It was apparent that the gypsy had recognized the dead Spaniard. It was also evident that Cardona's mention of the society robberies had excited the man's interest. Had Cardona and Markham known it, both would have learned much concerning their respective cases, had they held that gypsy for a quiz. But neither sleuth caught a last glimpse of the man's face. Simultaneously, they allowed a valuable informant to depart while they looked on! It was Holson, of the Sphere, who made reference to the dark-skinned man who wore the ear-rings. The reporter's comment was one that had nothing to do with murder or robbery. "Odd bird, that gypsy," remarked Holson, just as the man disappeared from view upon the stairs. "What was all that chatter he handed out - Rom - gago - gaje -" "The gypsies call themselves the Rom," explained Cardona. "It means gypsy man. A gajo is a gentile. That's why he said he was Rom, but this stiff" - Cardona waved his hand toward the corpse - "was gajo." With that, the detective turned and strolled toward the stairway that the gypsy had taken. When Cardona reached the upstairs corridor, he found it empty. He knew that the gypsy must have left the building.
THIS simple assumption was correct. The dark-skinned man was already pacing along the sidewalk, away from the morgue. His face, showing by a lamp light, still wore its gleaming smile. It showed a strange expression of satisfaction. The gypsy glanced over his shoulder as he turned the corner. Joe Cardona had not yet appeared from the doorway. The gypsy laughed as he continued his steady pace. One block - two - each time that the gypsy passed a lighted spot, he glanced back over his shoulder. On each occasion, he saw no sign of a follower. Yet each time that he stared ahead, an odd phenomenon took place. On these occasions, blackness moved into the spot of light which the dark- skinned man had passed. Some flitting shade of night was on the trail of the man who had left the morgue! The gypsy entered a subway station. Obscure in the crowded car of a local, he rode uptown. He left the train and walked eastward along a secluded street. No longer did he glance behind him. Yet the phantom shape still trailed. A passing silhouette that glided on the sidewalk, it kept on until the gypsy entered a short alleyway that led to the side door of a darkened house. A figure appeared in hazy outline after the gypsy's clicking footsteps had ended. A shape of blackness - a cloaked form topped by a broad-brimmed slouch hat - this was the revelation of the being that had trailed the gypsy to his home. The figure faded into the darkness of the street. A soft laugh sounded near