"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 035 - The Black Hush" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"What's up?"

"You know what," Cardona answered. "I've heard the boys are out to get you. What about it?"

"Listen, Joe," Goldy was serious, "that's all hooey - that talk about them being out to get me. I'm not in
any racket. Never carried a gat in my life. Take a look, now. Do you think I'd be a sap if I was in
danger?"

He spread the sides of his Tuxedo jacket, offering the detective an opportunity to frisk him for a
weapon.

Cardona did not accept the invitation. Instead, he made another comment.

"You've got Bowser Riggins along with you," remarked the sleuth. "He sticks pretty close most of the
time, doesn't he?"

"Sure he does," admitted Goldy. "But he doesn't pack a rod, either. I'll bring him out. Look him over.
He's a pal, Joe, not a bodyguard. Maybe he does a strong-arm job for me once in a while - but it never
amounts to much."

"Have it your own way, Goldy," remarked Cardona, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Just the same, I'm
staying around awhile."

The detective strolled along the corridor after Goldy Tancred had gone back into the Blue Room. He
walked toward the elevators, and stared suspiciously into the vacant blackness of the ballroom.

CARDONA noticed that men in Tuxedos were coming from an elevator and heading toward the Red
Room, at the other end of the corridor. He caught a few snatches of conversation and gained the
knowledge that a dinner was being held there by a society of electrical engineers.

Moving back toward the Blue Room, Cardona began to wonder whether or not he had made a mistake
in coming to the Olympia Hotel.

Goldy Tancred had hit the nail squarely when he had suggested that Cardona must have been listening to
misleading rumors. Persistent rumors from the underworld had it that Goldy Tancred was going on the
spot.

There was reason in such rumors. Goldy Tancred was a big shot deluxe. Informants kept him posted
regarding the doings of racketeers. He found ways to make it difficult for those whose activities bordered
on crime.

To be successful, a racketeer found it wise to keep in the good graces of Goldy Tancred. Time and
again, soft graft had been smashed because the perpetrators had ignored the big shot. Hence, there were
many who might like to see Goldy Tancred out of the way.

Goldy was too wise to be at odds with the police. He could not be branded as a racketeer, for there was
no proof that he engineered schemes of his own. He merely sat back and watched others work. Here,
tonight, he was mingling with a group of quasi-politicians, who called themselves the Mohawks.

That was part of Goldy's game. He dealt in protection, giving it or refusing it as best suited his purposes.