"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 044 - Treasures of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

These written remarks faded. They had brought out important points. The only indication that any one
could have recently been located in the old house was found in the new decorations of the library off the
bedroom. The condition of the wall safe proved that no one had made forcible entry there. Terry's
remark to Cardona-the statement that some expert had pronounced the Villon manuscript spurious-was
the final point of value:

Inquiries.

This single word was the last that The Shadow wrote. It remained after the others had faded: then it, too,
passed to oblivion.

The Shadow knew that Terry Barliss, even though his cause might be futile, would at least make some
effort to find out what had happened in his uncle's home prior to his own arrival from California.

It was unnecessary for The Shadow to write the obvious: that the old brownstone house would be the
starting point for any investigation that might lead to the missing manuscript. It was unnecessary also for
The Shadow to speculate upon where the trail might lead until after it had begun.

THE SHADOW had discovered important indications. He wanted specific facts. He was considering the
way to gain them. Well did The Shadow know that hidden crime was invariably of greater consequence
than that which appeared in full view.

In his ceaseless warfare against the hordes of evil, The Shadow went beneath unruffled surfaces. The
discovery of one subtle crime was usually the prelude to the detection of a chain of evil circumstances.
Those crude at crime belonged to the police. It was The Shadow's self-appointed task to ferret out the
wiles of superminds.

The Shadow was one who dealt in terms of powerful action, yet there were times when he played a
masterful game of deliberation. He was facing a perfect crime-a theft of a valuable manuscript that could
not be identified even if discovered; a murder that had required purely negative work on the part of the
man who had performed it.

Somewhere behind lay the master mind. The villain's position was impregnable. Even The Shadow could
accomplish nothing at this hour. The game was in its preliminary stage. The first encounter between right
and wrong lay purely in the future.

The laugh that rippled through the sanctum was a hollow burst of mockery that denoted The Shadow's
mood. It was the sign that The Shadow, alone, knew what the future might hold; that he, master though
he was, realized that the only present strategy lay in lack of immediate action.

The Shadow was depending upon Terry Barliss. He knew that the disappointed heir would seek facts.
He knew also that such facts would mean nothing to Terry. But the young man's findings might prove of
value to The Shadow. To make them gain their full worth, direct contact between The Shadow and Terry
Barliss was essential.

Paper and pen appeared. The Shadow wrote again. This time, however, he was not inscribing mental
comments. His rapid writing took the form of a coded message. When completed, The Shadow folded
the sheet of paper before the drying ink had opportunity to disappear.