"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 103 - The Crime Oracle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"That's the ticket, Squint! The Head knows his stuff. This ain't the first dope sheet I've lamped. I'm tellin'
you, it's a set-up when you follow one of them time-tables!"

"Come along, then." Holding the paper in his left hand, Squint took the flashlight with his right. "The next
stop is the second closet on the left, in the back hallway."

They reached their objective. Squint focused the light upon the door and ordered Chip to open it. The
squirrel-faced hoodlum obeyed. Squint raised the schedule into the light, then growled:

"Unscrew the coat hooks on that cross-board. Then yank the board away. Make it snappy!"

Chip complied. After he had removed the hooks, the strip of wood came away. Chip issued an
exclamation when he saw the top edge of a low door. The other edges were obscured by a baseboard
and upright corner strips.

"Shove it upward."

Again Chip followed Squint's order. The barrier slid easily. Squint's flashlight showed a narrow,
darkened passage. Squint added an order:

"Move ahead. We're going through."

The passage ran a dozen feet; then turned to the right. The two crooks followed it until they reached a
stairway. There, they ascended. They came to another barrier, which was held in place by screws. Squint
brought out a screw driver and handed it to Chip.

"Get busy," he ordered. "This is to be off by 7:25. You've got six minutes, Chip."

Four minutes were all that Chip required. Squint helped his aid to shift the blockade aside. They
advanced into a musty, windowless storeroom. Squint's flashlight showed heavy crates and packing
cases, with cobwebs everywhere. There was a door beyond.

"It won't be locked," informed Squint. He blinked the flashlight for a final consultation of the dope sheet.
"We'll listen there, until we hear the buzzer. That comes next. I'll do the rest - but stick with me, in case of
trouble."

They moved to the door and waited there in darkness. Squint's hand was on the knob. They were ahead
of schedule; so the wait became prolonged. Then came the sound that the pair expected: a sharp,
repeated buzz from the other side of the storeroom door.

Squint waited five full seconds; then turned the knob and pressed the door inward.

Chip saw a small, lighted office; at the right, a desk placed in front of a window that opened into an air
shaft. There was a door at the left of the room; straight across, a paneled wall that had a ledge and
window like a bank teller's wicket. There were no bars, however; the wicket was a solid wooden panel,
which prevented view beyond.

There was a man at the desk, a stoop-shouldered, gray-haired fellow who had been going over an
account book. He was wearing a green eye shade, with rimless spectacles beneath. He had heard the