"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 241 - Vengeance Bay" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

MARGO received a surprise the moment that she reached the street.

There wasn't a trace of Bron anywhere. He'd taken a cab and departed, but in such swift time that
Margo was actually breathless. Nor was there any other cab in sight. Apparently, Bron had told the
doorman to have one waiting, and had likewise instructed him to make all others move along.

The doorman's smug look seemed to confirm Margo's guess, particularly when he seemed concerned
because there were no cabs available and jogged off to the corner to summon one for the girl.

At that moment, Margo was looking in the other direction and saw something that helped.

Another car was pulling away from the curb, and Margo noticed two men in it. Following traffic along the
one-way street, the car swung sharply left. There was a chance, and a good one, that the mystery car
was trailing Vedo Bron, its occupants having had a chance to witness the refugee's departure.

Impatiently, Margo turned, hoping the doorman would forget himself and hurry with a cab. She was at
the curb and she jumped back, with a little gasp, as a coupe swept up in front of her.

Her gasp became one of pleased surprise when Margo recognized the driver. He was Harry Vincent,
come to take over the watch from midnight on.

Quickly, Margo told Harry of Bron's mysterious departure, and the equally mysterious pursuit that a car
with two men in it had begun.

Hearing that the pursuers had turned left, Harry waited for no further facts. He simply drew Margo into
his coupe and shot away, swinging left as the other car had.

Traffic was heavy on the avenue. Harry and Margo, as agents of The Shadow, were simply playing for
luck in this improvised chase. Both wished that The Shadow, himself, could be in the game. Their chief
had ways of finding luck, even when it didn't seem to exist. Or perhaps it wasn't luck; it might be better
defined as forethought on The Shadow's part.

FORETHOUGHT was the word.

Blocks ahead, a cab swung off the avenue and a passenger looked back, a permanent smile fixed on his
face. The passenger was Vedo Bron. He was pleased with his quick getaway from the Club Plaisance.

Then a car containing two men suddenly disentangled itself from among some trucks and darted around
the same corner that Bron's cab had taken. Bron was being trailed in expert fashion, as Margo supposed,
but Harry was too far behind to have observed it.

Almost from nowhere, a cab whipped into view, skewed between two trucks, and sliced the corner
close behind the men who were trailing Bron. That cab had been posted on the avenue, ready for just
such a trail.

Apparently the cab was empty, for only darkness was visible in the rear seat. But from that blackness
came a whispered sound: a strange, low laugh.

Weird mirth, signifying that its author would take a hand in things to come.