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

"There's a meeting in the Blue Room." responded the detective slowly. "That's on the other side of the
hotel. The Mohawk Club."

"What about it?"

"It used to be held in the Red Room."

"You think that has something to do with this -"

Cardona nodded.

"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "it probably has lot to do with it. A gang killing, inspector - one that didn't
click."
The pair started toward the lower lobby. Cardona paused a moment at the head of the stairs. He wanted
to see if there was any trace of a man who had come in this direction.

He drew his flashlight from his pocket, remembered suddenly that it was out of order, then stopped and
uttered a puzzled exclamation.

The flashlight was turned on! It had been gleaming in Cardona's pocket! The switch was just as it had
been pressed; the instrument that had failed to function in a time of need, was now casting rays of useless
illumination.

Puzzled, the detective turned the flashlight off and on. He repeated the operation several times. The torch
worked perfectly.

With a grunt, Cardona extinguished the flash light and thrust it back into his pocket. Even though it
appeared to be in perfect order, he would get a new one. No use to rely upon a flashlight that had failed
once at a crucial moment.

There was important work to do now. Cardona wanted to find out who had entered the Red Room and
left, probably scurrying down the stairs and out to the street amid the darkness. He wanted to learn what
had caused the lights of the hotel to fail.

These proved insurmountable questions. When Cardona's investigation was finished, he had gained
nothing. He thought he knew the motive. He understood the style of killing. Those were important
matters. But the clue that he wanted - the cause of the extinguished lights - was something that he did not
manage to gain.

Cardona, when he reached headquarters, was still disturbed because he had not obtained a shred of
evidence that involved the mysterious darkness. He sat at his desk, and scratched his chin. He felt
something in his pocket thump against the arm of his chair.

Angrily, Cardona pulled out the faulty flashlight and tossed it into a wastebasket. He got up from his chair
and sauntered out to report to Inspector Klein. He did not realize the importance of the action which he
had just performed.

Unwittingly, Detective Joe Cardona had thrown away the only clue that he possessed. That discarded
flashlight was the one link that might have led him to the solution of the black hush that had fallen over the