"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 043 - The Crime Clinic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

beneath the folds of a black cloak. His features - all save those terrible, blazing eyes - were invisible
beneath the shade of a broad-brimmed slouch hat.

THE one symbol of realism was the huge automatic that projected from a black-gloved hand. The sight
of that weapon brought terror to Bennie Lizzit. The mobster had killed. His victim lay at his feet. The
Shadow had trapped the murderer.

An ominous laugh came from unseen lips. The Shadow had arrived too late to prevent the death of
Scoffy, the stool pigeon. He was here, however, to learn the reason why Scoffy had been slain. His
sinister laugh was the token of his power.
Had The Shadow trapped Bennie Lizzit at any other moment, the gangster would unquestionably have
quailed. From his lips, The Shadow would have learned the reason for the murderer's crime.

But with Scoffy's body at his feet, Bennie Lizzit still was dominated with a savage thirst for murder. At the
sound of The Shadow's laugh, the killer spat a fierce oath and swung his gun arm upward to fire
point-blank at the avenger who had caught him on the scene of crime.

The room re-echoed to the roar of an ear-splitting report. The flash of flame came from The Shadow's
automatic. A split second before his enemy, The Shadow had delivered his message to prevent the
gangster's shot.

Bennie staggered backward, clutching his left shoulder. Crippled, he still snarled his rage. With clawing
finger, he managed to pull the trigger of his revolver. Shots went wide from his wavering gun.

Once more the automatic thundered. The bullet clipped the gangster's arm. With a shriek of pain, Bennie
Lizzit sprawled sidewise. He was against the window as he fell; his useless hand, as it lost the revolver,
struck against the drawn window shade.

The sash beyond was open. Lurching, where he had sought solidity, Bennie Lizzit floundered
headforemost over the low sill. He made a wild clutch with his left hand; his fingers slipped as they
clicked against the window frame.

The window shade snapped loose. Wrapped like a shroud about the hurtling gangster, it accompanied
Bennie Lizzit on his three-story plunge to the paving beneath the window. A hideous scream ended in a
crash below.

Silent, The Shadow stood within the door of this room where death had been delivered and avenged.
Shouts came to him from the street below. The black cloak swished. The tall form disappeared into the
darkness of the hallway.

Coming events had brought The Shadow to this spot. Joe Cardona had talked with Scoffy. The stool
pigeon had died at the hands of Bennie Lizzit. The murderer, in turn, was dead. These startling
occurrences were but the prelude to a trail of crime.

The Shadow, though he had not heard the words from Scoffy's lips, foresaw the coming conflict. Though
Joe Cardona, alone, had received word that the smooth crook called "The Jackdaw" had returned, The
Shadow soon would know what the detective had learned.

The stage was set for the events that were to come.