"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 094 - Castle of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

CASTLE OF DOOM
Maxwell Grant
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? CHAPTER I. CRIME OVER LONDON
? CHAPTER II. CRIME DISCUSSED
? CHAPTER III. TWISTED TRAILS
? CHAPTER IV. THE HOUSE IN WHITECHAPEL
? CHAPTER V. DEATH AND STRIFE
? CHAPTER VI. AT CHISWOLD CASTLE
? CHAPTER VII. THE SHADOW'S CHOICE
? CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN AT THE INN
? CHAPTER IX. JEREMY MEETS A GHOST
? CHAPTER X. THE MASK CHANGES
? CHAPTER XI. TRAILS DIVERGE
? CHAPTER XII. NIGHT BRINGS ITS SHADOW
? CHAPTER XIII. THE CASTLE
? CHAPTER XIV. THE FINAL VIGIL
? CHAPTER XV. DEATH AT DAWN
? CHAPTER XVI. OLD JEREMY'S STORY
? CHAPTER XVII. BELATED VISITORS
? CHAPTER XVIII. WITHIN AND WITHOUT
? CHAPTER XIX. THE NEW ALLY
? CHAPTER XX. CHANCE BRINGS ITS ISSUE
? CHAPTER XXI. BENEATH THE CASTLE
? CHAPTER XXII. CRIME STANDS REVEALED
? CHAPTER XXIII. THE DOUBLE STROKE
? CHAPTER XXIV. THE LAST TRIBUTE

CHAPTER I. CRIME OVER LONDON
THICK, smoke-laden fog had gained its grip on London. Night, descending like some black umbra
through the mist, had added sinister gloom. Street lamps, their rays cast back upon them, were nothing
more than blurred orbs of illumination that seemed to hang in mid-air.

Silence was heaviest upon a narrow street not far from Piccadilly Circus. This thoroughfare lay
somewhere between the huge stores of Regent Street and the quality shops of Bond Street. The very
obscurity of the section added to the lull; but with it, the unnatural calmness was foreboding. Stilled air
seem to be waiting for some startlement. It came.

The shrill sound of a policeman's whistle cleaved the fog. Shouts came in muffled utterance. Harsh oaths
were rasped in challenge. Then came the scurry of footsteps upon paving; after that, the heavy pound of
pursuing feet. Other whistles trilled; then clatter faded.
Rogues of the night had countered with the law. Ghoulish plunderers, creeping out from hiding places,
had been scattered back to cover. Patrolling policemen had converged, were staying close to the vicinity.
Heavy, methodical footsteps were proof that the law remained.

Close by one of Piccadilly's corners, a stalwart uniformed figure loomed into the light. Steady eyes
peered from beneath a helmet. Then the London bobby raised his arm as a pedestrian approached.