"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 006 - The Death Tower" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"You will forget your fears, Chatham," came Palermo's dulcet voice. "In an instant they will vanishтАФand
they will never return. I can promise you thatтАФ"

The physician spoke on, gazing intently at the gem in his hand. But Horace Chatham never heard the
words that followed. For while Palermo talked, the brown hands slipped suddenly forward, and, coming
together, gripped Chatham's throat.

A slight gurgle escaped Chatham's lips. He clutched and clawed at the strangling hands, but his efforts
were without avail. The grim talons were victorious. The pressure never yielded while Chatham gasped
away his life.

When the man in the chair became motionless, the brown hands slipped back into the darkness, and the
panel closed in the wall.

Doctor Palermo was still speaking, and his voice was gloating. He was talking to a dead man in the chair.
He stopped suddenly, and looked at Chatham's body while he smiled. Then he turned away, and opened
the drawer of a table. Replacing the purple sapphire in its case, he tossed the gem and its carrier into the
drawer.

He walked forward to Chatham's limp form. He removed various articles from the dead man's pockets
and inspected them.

A smile flickered on his face as he discovered a theater ticket. Doctor Palermo placed the bit of
cardboard in his own vest pocket. He also transferred Chatham's wallet and several cards to his own
clothing.

From a table drawer, Palermo brought out a long, flat metal box, which he laid on a stand, close by the
chair in which Chatham had died.

Then followed a most amazing procedure.

Opening the box, Palermo produced articles of make-up, and with swiftness and precision, he began to
apply cosmetics to his face.

He looked closely at the dead man's face as he went through this operation. At intervals he paused, and
turned to a mirror. He looked back and forth, comparing his own visage with that of Chatham.

The mysterious physician's face rapidly underwent a surprising transformation. More and more it came to
resemble the countenance of Horace Chatham, until it was impossible to distinguish any great differences
between the face of the living man and that of the victim in the chair.

The only contrast was the hair. Doctor Palermo overcame that discrepancy by bringing forth a box full of
wigs. He selected one that closely resembled Chatham's dark, bushy hair.

When he had placed this on his head, Palermo stood before the mirror and chuckled maliciously as he
studied his handiwork.

Palermo snapped his fingers twice. A panel opened in the wall, and from this concealed door stepped
forth a tall, powerful, brown-skinned man. Palermo pointed to the body and uttered a few words in a