"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 210 - The Devil's Paymaster" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

THE DEVIL'S PAYMASTER
by Maxwell Grant

As originally published in "The Shadow Magazine," November 15, 1940.

The Prince of Evil and The Shadow match wit for wit in this battle to the
death!


CHAPTER I

VOICE IN THE NIGHT

POLICE COMMISSIONER RALPH WESTON was a man who did not, as a rule, awaken
easily once he had fallen soundly asleep. He had trained his body to relax
completely for eight hours every night. He had to, or he could never have
endured the daily grind of directing the tremendous activities of the New York
police department.
From 11 p.m. until 7 the following morning, Weston's valet had orders not
to disturb the commissioner.
But, like all rules of personal conduct, Weston's sleep habits had one
important exception. When the telephone bell in his bedroom rang, he always
awakened instantly. Many a big crime had broken without warning in the black
hours between midnight and dawn. Whenever it did, the news was flashed from
headquarters to Weston's home.
His phone was ringing tonight. Or rather, it had just stopped ringing.
The final echo of the bell buzzed in Weston's ears as he sat up sleepily
on the edge of his bed. A vivid stab of lightning cut the blackness of the
room
like a sword flash. It was followed by a rolling crash of thunder.
Weston, blinked. Instinctively, he turned toward the partly-opened
window.
The rug was damp. He could feel the wet drive of rain on his pajamas. Except
for
the sudden ring of the telephone bell, Weston would have slept calmly through
the lightning and thunder.
But once awake, he didn't want his wallpaper stained or a priceless
Oriental rug soaked. He sprang across the room and shut the window. Then he
darted to the phone.
"Commissioner Weston speaking."
There was no answer.
Weston spoke again impatiently, but no reply came. He growled with
annoyance. His detour to shut the rain-drenched window had not taken much
time.
The phone bell must have barely stopped ringing before he had become fully
awake. Not more than thirty seconds could have elapsed. And yet the operator
at
police headquarters had hung up already.
Weston's finger jabbed at the dial, to ring back the uniformed
switch-board cop. He was sore enough to want to give that cop a good