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

Nigel arose and opened the door. The Afghan went out into the hall. Nigel saw him go down a flight of
rear stairs. Returning to the hotel room, Nigel stared from the window.

Below, dulled by the fog, lay a hazy spread of illumination that represented Soho. That section, with its
varied flood of humanity, had been Amakar's habitat since he and Nigel had been in London.

It was a place where those of many nations rallied. Soho, where an Afghan might pass as a Hindu and
where Hindus were not uncommon. Like other portions of London - the others in the East End - Soho
was a spot where lurkers flourished. Amakar, the Afghan, had friends in Soho, who were not of his own
nationality.

NOT long after Amakar had left the hotel, Harry Vincent arrived at Belgrave Square. Harry could
actually discern the fronts of staid, old-fashioned buildings that loomed indefinitely up into the blackness.
They were four-story structures; but the fog magnified them to gigantic proportions.

One of these houses bore the address number that Harry had pieced together from the card. From the
outlet of the little cul-de-sac, Harry could see lights in the windows of the second story rear.

He recalled that the card had borne the reference "2 B"; and that fact proved that the building contained
flats. Two to a floor, as Harry estimated; which meant that someone was at home in the place for which
he had searched. Harry's next problem was to learn who lived there. While he was pondering upon some
plan, the upstairs lights went out.

Harry circled to the front of the building, keeping far enough away to be obscured. While he was
watching, a taxicab chugged up and parked in front of the house. The driver alighted and stood waiting
upon the curb. The door of the house opened and a young man appeared.

It was Geoffrey Chiswold, wearing his gray coat and bowler. Geoffrey was carrying a huge suitcase,
which he turned over to the taxi driver. He went back into the house and reappeared with a second
suitcase of similar proportions to the first.

HARRY turned up his coat collar and shuffled into the light. With shoulders slightly stooped, he
approached Geoffrey with the manner of a hanger-about who knew this neighborhood. Obsequiously,
Harry tipped two fingers to his hat and asked:
"Help you with your luggage, sir?"

"Very well." Geoffrey nodded as he handed the suitcase to Harry, who carried it to the cab. "Wait here,
my man, and you may help me with some satchels."

The taxi driver glowered at Harry's interference; but The Shadow's agent made no comment. He shuffled
back to the door of the building, relieved Geoffrey of two smaller grips and took them to the cab. He
held the door open for Geoffrey to enter the vehicle. The taxi driver shrugged and took his place behind
the wheel.

"Here is a shilling, my good fellow," said Geoffrey, passing a coin to Harry. Then to the taxi driver: "Take
me to Liverpool Street Station. I must pick up a parcel that is checked there."

"Righto, sir," returned the driver.