"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 166 - Crime Rides The Sea" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

girl had sensed a menace, for Harry noted that she had gone pale. But she had
rallied when he turned toward her again.
Vincent saw her slip her hand into a small bag that she carried. He could
tell by the tightness of her fingers that the girl had a gun at hand.
Ruth's next move compelled Harry's full admiration. Rising from her
chair,
she politely said good night to the other passengers; then, smiling as they
protested her departure, she started for her cabin.
Harry couldn't follow at that moment; it would have attracted too much
attention. He hoped that the girl could take care of herself for the three
minutes that he intended to wait. By that time, Harry calculated, he could
slide out unnoticed.
The moment came. While the other men were planning to begin a poker game,
Harry lighted a cigarette and strolled out, without comment. He listened for a
moment, beyond the lounge door; satisfied that no one was worrying about his
departure, he ducked down a companionway and followed a corridor to Ruth's
cabin.
There, he observed a light beneath the door. He was contemplating his
next
move when, suddenly, he was forced to a single decision. From back along the
passage, he heard the low scuffle of footsteps, the mutter of voices. The
arriving men couldn't be passengers; they must be crew members, and perhaps
Pell was with them. Harry had to get out of sight in a hurry.
As he slid one hand instinctively to his gun pocket, Harry placed the
other on the handle of the cabin door, in the hope that it was unlocked. The
knob yielded; the door swung silently inward at Harry's touch. He side-stepped
into the cabin, pushed the door shut behind him. Immediately, Harry turned
about, hoping to explain his presence to Ruth Eldrey.
What Harry saw left him motionless.
The girl was seated at a little table in front of a mirror. She had
loosened her dress, so that it hung below her bare shoulders while she smeared
her face and neck with cold cream. There was a whiteness to those shoulders
that puzzled Harry, because it contrasted sharply with the brunette's rather
dark complexion.
Then Harry saw the girl's face, emerging from the towel that she used to
wipe away the cold cream. The darkness had gone entirely, and with it, Ruth
had
lost those thin, black eyebrows that matched her hair.
Still too intent to notice Harry in the mirror, the girl reached both
hands upward and gave a tug. Her dark wig came away, leaving a shower of
fluffy
blond hair. That final transformation was so complete, that her whole face
seemed to change.
Instantly, Harry gauged the tilt of her nose, the slight thrust of her
chin; features that had previously escaped his full notice.
Coolly, Harry spoke from the doorway: "Good evening, Miss Barvale!"
 THE words had the effect that Harry wanted. Edna Barvale wilted. Her face
took on a terrified expression which, somehow, added to its beauty, though
Harry was reluctant to admit it. He was chafing because Edna had tricked him
with the brunette disguise that she had worn.