"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 153 - Murder For Sale" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

them were all within Ring's ability. He was always ready to cover for "fronts"
like Dembrick, or actual killers like Thelden.
Those two, however, were but part of Ring's organization. There were
others, like "Whiz" Birsch, who drew regular salaries for cover-up work. Jobs
went through smoothly with this out-fit, and that made it worth while for
Thelden and others to do murder for twenty-five hundred dollars, although they
knew that Ring Brescott grossed many times that amount.
Thelden was ready to close the office.
He was rising from his desk, when the telephone bell rang. Thelden held a
brief conversation; his eyes narrowed when he hung up.
 "Funny thing, that call," Thelden told Dembrick. "It was from a young
lawyer named Lee, who used to know Rulland."
"Yeah? What did he want?"
"He asked if a chap named Vincent had dropped in to see me. So I told him
that he had."
"Who's Vincent?"
Dembrick's question brought a shrug from Thelden.
"I don't just know," admitted Thelden, reverting to his drawling tone.
"He comes from New York, and claims he was a friend of Rulland. It looks like
he's been making the rounds."
"That's bad," growled Dembrick. "Maybe he's a dick."
"I don't think so," returned Thelden, his eyes fixed in a murderous gaze.
"I'd like to meet him again, though!"
A few seconds later, Thelden's expression had changed. He clapped
Dembrick on the back and suggested that they ought to have a drink together,
since Dembrick had become one of Thelden's customers.

IT was dusk when the pair came from the building. They crossed Fifteenth
Street, entered one of the narrow alleys that lie between Market and Chestnut.
Their destination was a rathskeller, half a block ahead.
They hadn't gone that far before Thelden gripped Dembrick's arm. Quickly,
the murderer shoved the portly man into a doorway and whispered:
"Take a quick look through! See if there's a way out on the other side."
Dembrick took a look. He was back in ten seconds to say that there was an
outlet. The news pleased Thelden.
"Good stuff!" he whispered. "See that fellow coming along the side alley?
I thought I recognized him, and I was right. It's Vincent!"
At that moment, Harry crossed the alley directly in front of the doorway
where the pair lurked. Harry was heading for a little chophouse that had been
recommended as a good place for dinner. Thelden saw where The Shadow's agent
was going.
"So he likes chops, huh?" gritted Thelden. "That's great! Here's where I
chop him down!"
With a snakish whip, Thelden hauled a revolver from his hip and aimed it
straight for Harry. His finger paused upon the trigger, to give it an expert
squeeze. Another second would have meant death for Harry, if intervention
hadn't come. It was Dembrick who supplied that interference.
Thelden's momentary pause gave Dembrick a chance to clamp his big hand on
the gun. Not only did Dembrick divert the aim; his fist covered the revolver
muzzle. As Thelden snarled, Dembrick hauled him back into the doorway.