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

Suite 2121 was Harry's objective. When he reached this office on the twenty-first floor, he opened the
door and entered. A stenographer arose, recognized the visitor and tapped at the door of an inner office.

A few moments later, Harry Vincent was talking with a quiet, full-faced individual who sat lazily at a
flat-topped desk. This was Rutledge Mann. A sheet of black paper lay beside the investment broker's
hand. Harry knew that Mann had received a coded message from The Shadow.

"Vincent," began Mann, "I have an unusual appointment arranged for you. I would suggest that you keep
it shortly before noon. You know where the Drury Theater is located."

Harry nodded.

"Three buildings past the old theater," resumed Mann, "is a small, antiquated office building. On the fourth
floor, you will find the office of Hawthorne Crayle, a man who deals in curios. You are to visit Crayle."

"For what purpose?" inquired Harry.

"That will be decided later," stated Mann. "Simply call on Crayle, state that you are interested in curios
and make friends with him. Should he request a service of you, perform it. Follow that line of action,
wherever it may lead."

Harry Vincent nodded as he arose to leave the office. He knew the location of the Drury Theater, near
Times Square. He knew that he would have no difficulty finding the curio dealer's office. He realized that
he was taking up some mission for The Shadow's service; like all such projects, this one would surely
show surprising consequences.

Also, Harry realized that Rutledge Mann was probably in total ignorance of what lay ahead. Mann had
received an order from The Shadow. He had passed the word to Harry. Mann's part of the job was
ended.

It was not yet ten o'clock. Harry left the Badger Building and strolled along Broadway. He was timing
himself to reach Crayle's office shortly before noon.

MEANWHILE, an event was already taking place at the old building where Crayle's office was located.
A tall, obscure figure was ascending a pair of dilapidated stairs. Arrived at the fourth floor, this shape
stopped in front of a dingy door.

In the gloom of the hallway, where little daylight penetrated, it was difficult to distinguish objects. Yet
there was something sinister in the visitor's bearing-an indication which betokened his identity. The
Shadow had come to the office of Hawthorne Crayle.

The figure moved away. Where it had been, a patch of yellow remained-an object the size of an
envelope. The Shadow had gone from sight, hidden in a door across the way.

Twenty minutes passed. Tapping footsteps came from the stairway. An old man arrived in view. He
picked his way through the gloomy hall and thrust a key into the lock of the old door. A flood of daylight
reached the hallway as the door opened.

It was then that the old man noted the yellow object on the door. He removed it with shaky hands.