"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 042 - Mox" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

upon its lofty cross bars. A pole of unusual height, the top of this pole was above the level of Harlew's
window. The pole was barely visible against the evening sky.

"We are going, Cranston," remarked Commissioner Weston.

The burning of The Shadow's eyes had vanished as Cranston's tall figure turned from the window. That
blaze reappeared for an instant as the same eyes focused themselves upon the stiletto that Cardona had
placed upon the paper.

Outside the room of death, Commissioner Weston turned to look at the body as he had first viewed it.
Cardona was beside him. The policeman was ready to close the door. Cranston, behind the group, was
watching.

"Odd," remarked the commissioner, "the position of those hands. One over the other; fingers thrust out
on the left; the right hand clenched, as though to fight the assailant."

"I noticed it," replied Cardona. "First thing when I came in. It's just one of those peculiar positions that
you see with a lot of murdered bodies."

"Let's go along," suggested Weston. "And as for that note, Cardona" - he paused to tap the yellow paper
which the detective heldтАФ"don't let it fool you. If this man whom we believe is Harlew had a name to
give, why didn't he give it?"

"It looks fakey enough," agreed Cardona.

Lamont Cranston was still standing at the door as the commissioner and the detective started for the
stairs. He, too, had noted the position of Schuyler Harlew's hands when he had entered the room. The
eyes of The Shadow were keen. They were steadily fixed upon the dead hands when the policeman
closed the door.

A whispered laugh, no more than a soft echo, sounded from thin lips as Cranston walked along the hall to
overtake the men who were descending the stairs. That was the laugh of The Shadow, given sotto voce,
that none might hear. It was The Shadow's answer to questions which both Weston and Cardona had
rejected as of minor consequence.

SCHUYLER HARLEW had received his knife thrust at the desk. He had staggered away from the
window; he had sprawled upon the floor. He had lost his opportunityтАФat the crucial instantтАФto inscribe
the name of the man whose wrath he feared.

Dying, Harlew had tried to make amends for negligence. With the name of his enemy upon his lips, he
had done his best to leave some trace of his final thought. Crossed wrists; three extended fingers; a loose
fist. As The Shadow had viewed them from the door, they told a story.

Weston had not seen it. Cardona had not seen it. The Shadow, however, knew. From Schuyler Harlew's
death-stilled hands, the master investigator had gained a vital clew to the identity of the monster who had
doomed his minion to die!

With motionless lips, the lips of Lamont Cranston, The Shadow pronounced a single word that came as a
startling aftermath to his solution of Schuyler Harlew's desperate effort to reveal a villain's name.