"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 231 - Garden of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Of one thing, however, The Shadow was certain. Some deadly gas was responsible for the blackness
that surfaced the color-changing dye.

It wasn't The Shadow's usual policy to appropriate evidence which might serve the law. In this case, the
situation had been thrust upon him. Planning a quick trip to his lab and back, The Shadow had hoped to
replace the weather doll himself, and had left the unchanged substitute to fill in temporarily.

There was a chance - as always - that a murderer might return. If the killer came across a blackened
weather doll, he would certainly remove it; hence, it was better, at the time, that The Shadow should
have taken it.

All that was changed, of course, by the sudden manner in which arriving police had given The Shadow a
surprise work-out. If they'd come a little sooner, The Shadow would have left the weather doll for them.

Still, having taken the evidence, The Shadow didn't exactly regret it. For one thing, he was wondering
what verdict would be found in Bendleton's death, without the incriminating evidence of the weather doll.

Quite possibly, the murderer hadn't known that the doll was in Bendleton's study. If so, the deaths of the
three men and a canary might have the elements of a so-called "perfect" crime. On that chance, The
Shadow decided that the death gas must be of an untraceable type, possibly akin to phosgene.

On the black-tiled laboratory bench stood a glass bell containing the figure of a weather doll, one of
several that The Shadow had purchased after reaching town. A hose ran from the bell top, branching to
various tanks. The Shadow was experimenting with carbonyl chloride, in combination with hydrogen
cyanide, plus gaseous mixtures of differing effects.

He was seeking a combination that would have a deadly effect, along with the faint, almost flowery odor
that he had noticed in Bendleton's house. Also, the gas would have to produce a blackness on the
weather doll. At last, the reaction came. Dark streaks appeared on the doll's skirt, proving the
experiment a success.

The Shadow was detaching the hose, when a buzz came from the sanctum. Entering the curtained room
that adjoined his laboratory, The Shadow picked earphones from the wall and spoke to his contact
agent, Burbank, who reported that Ralph Weston, the New York police commissioner, was on his way
to the Cobalt Club.

Leaving the sanctum, The Shadow entered his limousine, which was waiting on a darkened street. Placing
his cloak and hat beneath the rear seat, he told Stanley to take him to the Cobalt Club. Riding as
Cranston, The Shadow considered his recent findings.

Bendleton's death was murder, accomplished by a gas that had a remarkable penetrating effect, yet
which was unlikely to leave proof of its use. Whether Harvey and Jennings had been intentional victims
was another question.

It might be that they were merely unfortunate enough to be on hand when murder enveloped them, along
with their employer; just as Bendleton's daughter, Fay, had chanced to be out of the house at the time
death struck. As for the motive behind the murder, that was something The Shadow intended to discuss
with his friend the police commissioner.