"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 078 - The Third Skull" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Tristram broke off suddenly as a uniformed officer came into the room. Close behind him was a
well-dressed man about thirty years of age, whose face showed concern as he stopped just within the
room.

Cardona needed no introduction. He knew that this must be Selwood Royce.

Without a word, Royce walked over to the bed. He looked beyond and stared solemnly at Hildrew
Parchell's body. Royce's expression was one of deep sadness. While the others watched him in silence,
Royce turned to Tristram and clapped a sympathetic hand upon the servant's shoulder. Tristram
understood; his lips began to quaver.

"YOU are Selwood Royce?" asked Cardona, quietly, as he stepped toward the newcomer.

"Yes," was the reply.

Cardona noted a choke in the single word. He studied Royce's frank solemn countenance. Cardona had
heard of Selwood Royce. The man was a millionaire; his wealth had been left to him by his father.
"This man" - Cardona indicated Tristram - "states that he called you at your home tonight. Is that
correct?"

"It is," replied Royce. "He called me at about nine o'clock."

"And asked you to come in here?"

"Yes. Tristram said that he believed Hildrew Parchell was dying; that it was urgent that I see him. Hildrew
Parchell had been my father's friend. I told Tristram that I would come here at once."

"My home is well out on Long Island. I left promptly and drove straight here. At the door, I met the
policeman who brought me upstairs. He told me that there had been a fire; that Hildrew Parchell was
dead."

Cardona referred to his notes.

"About nine o'clock," mused the detective. "Tristram put out the fire shortly after that. Let me see, Mr.
Wingate, you arrived at about nine-thirty; you, Doctor Deseurre, at about the same time."

"I was late," remarked Wingate. "I should have been here at nine. If I had only arrived before Tristram!"

"I was exactly on time," stated Doctor Deseurre.

"It's not much after ten o'clock right now," declared Cardona, looking from man to man. "Do you think
that Hildrew Parchell could have wanted you all to meet here?"

"I can see no reason why," replied Wingate. "I was Parchell's attorney; Doctor Deseurre, his physician;
Mr. Royce, a friend. We hold nothing in common."

"Mr. Wingate and I," added Deseurre, "had met but once before. That was a month or more ago, when I
chanced to be leaving when he called. It was Tristram who introduced us."