"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 040 - The Death Triangle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"Doctor Johan Arberg," declared Sparkles quietly. "The Danish specialist from Copenhagen. A blood
specialist - here in America attending the medical conference in Chicago."

"A doctor," repeated Mitts, "in Chicago. If this guy is in Chicago -"
"He is not in Chicago, tonight," interrupted Sparkles. "He is in New York. He is coming here. He sails
within a few days - that is, he is scheduled to sail - for Denmark. He has made an appointment to visit me
this evening.

"Doctor Arberg has one other interest besides medicine. He collects precious stones. He frequently visits
obscure collectors like myself" - Sparkles grinned - "and tempts them with a display of wealth. If they
happen to be in financial straits - as I am supposed to be - they often fall for the lure of cash."

"I get you," laughed Mitts. "You've got the jewels, and you want the cash, too. Old Kris Kringle will
leave his dough here."

"Exactly. Furthermore, he will take a short one-trip ride at your request. That will be the end of Johan
Arberg."

"O.K., Sparkles," grinned Mitts. "You're paying for the job; but I don't see where you need a crew to
handle one old guy."

"I don't," returned Sparkles. "That part of it is easy. I'm thinking about what might happen afterward.
When Doctor Arberg fails to show up in Copenhagen, there's going to be a search for him. Somewhere
between Chicago and Copenhagen. A long trail, nevertheless, it would look bad if the police found that I
skipped out on the same night that Arberg disappeared.

"I'm going to play it safe - make it look like a straight gang job. Even the old doctor won't know the
difference. You and your crowd can carry that old boy out of here right under my nose. If something
goes wrong, drop him. He'll testify that I tried to save him.

"If all goes well, I'll stick right here until the end of the month, when my lease expires. Then I'll go on my
way. No one will ever know that Doctor Arberg paid a private visit to an obscure gem collector named
Lorskin."

"Smart stuff," affirmed Mitts. "You always played a cute game, Sparkles. Leave the job to me - I'll bring
up the gang while you're talking to old whiskers. You want us in the kitchen?"

"Yes. Bust in when the time looks ripe."

Sparkles Lorskin tossed the newspaper aside. He began to remove the jewels from their box. Mitts
Cordy watched this procedure. Both men were looking toward the table. They did not see a peculiar
motion upon the floor.

A long streak of blackness, a flat splotch that bore a startling resemblance to a silhouette, was drawing
itself along the floor, receding toward the door. The gliding shape upon the carpet was not a token of an
approaching person; it was the sign of a departing visitor!

As it dwindled and finally vanished, it indicated that someone had entered while these men conferred; that
the same unseen visitant was moving away, unheard in his departure!