"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 173 - Death's Harlequin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

the move.
He hurried to the corner. A small, dark-colored sedan curved from the side street into the
avenue. Vic eased his lithe body inside with a quick slam of the door.

He gave no orders to the man behind the wheel. None were needed. The driver was an
expert on tailing jobs like this one. The taxi's goal was evidently in the business district of
Washington. Vic Marquette's dark sedan was merely an atom in a stream of moving
vehicles under the blaze of neon lights and electric signs.

"O.K.!" Vic ordered suddenly. "Wait here!"
The blonde's taxi had parked in front of one of the most fashionable beauty shops in
Washington. Vic stared at the sign with a twinge of excitement: MADAME ALYCE. It was a
place where ordinary people were never quite able to secure an appointment.
It looked now as if it might be a clearing house for treachery in the heart of the nation.

The blonde disappeared inside. Vic had to be content with his cold vigil in front of a nearby
store window.
THE blonde's reception in the beauty shop was cordial. A pretty girl behind a desk smiled
and pressed a button.

"Good evening, Miss Purdy. Madame Alyce will see you in just a moment."

The girl slipped off her heavy wrap. She was gorgeously beautiful. Her low-cut and backless
evening gown was shimmering silver. So were the pointed tips of her slippers. Even her
fingernails were silver.

Madame Alyce appeared presently from the rear of the shop. She was a plump, smiling
woman with a voice that sounded thin, almost childish. But there was nothing childish about
her narrow, rather Oriental eyes. A steady coolness seemed to lurk in them as she greeted
Miss Purdy.
She led the favored client past curtained booths where other customers were undergoing
beauty treatments. There was no curtain at the end booth where Madame Alyce conducted
the blonde in the silver evening gown. A door closed discreetly behind them. It locked
automatically. No voices could be heard outside after the door closed. The room was
soundproof.
"You're late," Madame Alyce said.

"I'm sorry. Precautions take time."

"Precautions need not interfere with punctuality," Madame Alyce said grimly.
Her dark, almond-shaped eyes suddenly were like the glare of ice.

"Tonight you are being highly honored. You are to transmit an important code message to
Number One. You will understand how important it is when I tell you that death has been
decreed for two enemies tonight. Sit down, my dear."

Jane Purdy shivered as she obeyed, although the room was almost tropical in its warmth.
Madame Alyce turned toward a side table and her deft fingers selected certain tools of her
beauty trade. She worked with slow care, while the blonde submitted with patient
obedience. The task took a long time. When it was finished, Jane looked exactly the same