"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 226 - The Blur" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

lolling there. It struck him that the chap could very possibly have been the "voice," but Terry decided to
look for other candidates. He promptly saw one.

At a little side table, a man was sitting down to rejoin a friend in a private game of ecarte. Terry caught a
full-face view of the man who had just returned. He saw a darkish face, with pointed mustache features
which had the look of a professional gambler's, even to the cold eyes that met Terry's glance.

Terry decided to remember those faces, and as he neared Tex's door, he saw a third countenance which
interested him. A stoop-shouldered man cut in ahead of him, threw a glance back at Terry, and quickly
entered the office.

In that glance, Terry observed a long, chinless face, colorless except for sharp, beady eyes. The man
might be the voice. He could certainly have reached the office ahead of Terry.

There was a bouncer inside Tex's door, but he let Terry through. Terry looked presentable and when he
showed the envelope, saying it contained a personal message for Mr. Winthorp, the bouncer believed
him.

At a desk Terry saw Tex Winthorp, a square-jawed, baldish man who looked tougher than the bruiser
who guarded his portal. Tex was busy talking to the stoopish man with the colorless face.

"Gadgets!" scoffed Tex, in a deep tone. "Everybody wants to sell me gadgets! They think I need ways to
keep the coppers out of here. Bah! Any time the police want to pay a visit, they'll be welcome. Sorry, I
don't need your gadgets whatever they are, Mr. -" He paused, studying the stoopish man suspiciously;
then queried: "What was your name?"

There was a flicker of beady eyes. The gadget-seller was hesitating because of Terry. Tex hadn't yet
noticed the second visitor, so his suspicion of the stoopish man increased. The fellow realized it.

"Dunvin is my name," he said wheezily. "Hector Dunvin. I'm an electrician -"

"I remember now," interrupted Tex. "You've been here before." Noting the direction of Dunvin's gaze,
Tex swiveled in his chair and saw Terry. Abruptly, he inquired: "And who are you?"

Terry supplied his name and handed Tex the envelope, stating that its contents were important. As Tex
opened the envelope, Terry folded his arms and waited patiently.

To resist the temptation of glancing at Dunvin, Terry focused his eyes on a big diamond that gleamed like
a miniature searchlight from the center of Tex Winthorp's tuxedo shirt. Anyone who could afford a shirt
stud the size of that one could certainly pay well for the valuable information which Terry hoped the
message really contained.

But Terry's mind kept reverting to the "voice."

Dunvin might be the "voice." The fellow's wheeze was so different from the smooth purr, that it roused
Terry's suspicion. Still, Terry couldn't forget those other candidates - the idler with the wavy hair and the
darkish-faced gambler. He remembered that both had looked his way. He wondered if they knew each
other.

They did.