"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 146 - Face of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"Sparkler" Broyt weren't the sort who squealed, not even to The Face. How The Face had managed to
find this spot, was another mystery, unless he had kept tabs on Jordy Fergen.

Those matters, though, seemed trivial. Marty's job, right now, was to square himself with The Face.

"I wanted to talk to Jordy," insisted Marty. "I wouldn't have gone ahead, chiefтАФnot without your
O.K.тАФbut Jordy called me up the other day. Said things would be ripe to-night, if I had the mob ready.
He couldn't talk over the telephone, but I figured he had something big.

"He's a smart guy, Jordy is. Been working as a ship steward for fifteen years. Used to inform on guys that
were smuggling gems, until I put him wise to a better racket. That was to get the dope on stuff that was
coming through legit, and let me grab it off afterward.

"I know what he's got this trip: Those Spanish jewels that were shipped to the Aldheim Company. Jordy
must have got wise to some way to slide in there, that I don't know about. If I could talk to Jordy -"

Marty's voice broke off. He had talked himself in a circle, and there wasn't anything else he could say to
square himself. He knew what it meant to be in wrong with The Face.

For months, certain criminals had been enjoying unusual success in crime, for one single reason: They had
accepted the rule of The Face, Manhattan's new overlord of crime. Who he was, what he wasтАФnone
had guessed. There were rules, though, that The Face invariably followed.

He appeared at unexpected places, as he had to-night, to talk to crooks alone. Always, he showed that
same luminous countenance, indelible in its glowing green, yet untraceable, afterward. He gave out
orders, coupled with threats; and underworld members listened.

Men of crime could choose their own enterprises; but all must have the approval of The Face.
Sometimes, The Face rejected plans; other times, he said to wait. In every case that crime proceeded at
his bidding, The Face received his percentage of the spoils.

There were two reasons why crooksтАФeven the biggest of the big-shotsтАФ submitted to this mysterious
overlord, whom they had so appropriately dubbed "The Face."

First, because when The Face ordered crime, it succeeded. Second, because crime without The Face's
approval was sure to fail.

Criminals who had accepted The Face's yoke were never troubled; those who refused his terms came to
sudden grief. The Face was a racketeer without an equal; for his victims were crooks and racketeers
themselves. Small wonder, therefore, that Marty Lursch was jittery. He was helpless, in the control of
The Face.

Lips that glowed in darkness spoke their decision.

"YOU are fortunate," rasped The Face. "It happens that your decision corresponds with mine. Meet
Jordy. Learn the details. Proceed with crime to-night."

Marty couldn't manage to gulp his thanks.

"One point must be remembered," added The Face, dryly, "Make no move until after midnight. There is a