"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 250 - Death About Town" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Inasmuch as the trysting spots varied, Orvill always managed to avoid one girl friend while meeting
another, which made it all the better. This was the first time that anyone had suggested the side door of
the Hotel Bayberry, but Orvill approved it. The hotel was only a few blocks down the avenue, and there
was a florist's shop on the way.

It was after seven o'clock, so Orvill was already wearing evening clothes. He frowned a trifle as he
crossed the palatial foyer of the club, for he remembered an appointment that might detain him. Pausing
at the door, he spoke to the attendant at the desk:

"When Mr. Cranston arrives, ask him to wait until I phone him. I shall do so within a half hour."

Outside the Avenue Club, Orvill strolled jauntily away, and the doorman watched his departure. Few
men of Manhattan had the boulevard manner of Dana Orvill, and the doorman always liked to watch him
stroll along the avenue.

This, however, was to be Orvill's final stroll. He was on his way to a date with death!

In the florist's shop, Orvill ordered a dozen jonquils and a gardenia for his overcoat lapel. While waiting
for the flowers, his thoughts reverted to his appointment with Cranston, and Orvill became a trifle
annoyed. He wanted to talk to Cranston, very badly.

Matters weren't just right at the Avenue Club. The members of the governing committee couldn't quite
agree on certain matters. It was all very troublesome, not only to Orvill but to Rudolph Delmot, chairman
of the governing committee. A fine chap, Delmot, but too inclined to heed everyone's opinion.

Delmot never tiffed with other committee members, as Orvill did. If a chap behaved like a bounder,
Orvill did not mind telling him so. Sometimes they became angry, such chaps, almost threatening; but
when they did, they simply proved themselves to be bounders. Which meant that Dana Orvill, in his
opinion, was always the winner of an argument.

The jonquils wrapped and the gardenia in his buttonhole, Orvill strolled along to the Bayberry. He did not
enter the hotel; instead, he went past it and strolled to the side door, just around the corner. There, Orvill
took up a convenient stance and waited.

A nice spot, this. The street was comparatively dark, and the light was not strong beneath the side
marquee of the hotel. Behind Orvill was a doorway into the lobby, but very few people used it. The door
was of the revolving type, and made a sweeping noise whenever anyone came out.

At those times, Orvill strolled over toward the curb and remained there, except when people came along
the street, at which times he stationed himself at the side of the revolving door and remained there.

Orvill's chief annoyance was his half-hour time limit. He didn't want his call to Cranston to interfere with
his date. Still, he would have to make the call, for Orvill was very precise in such matters.

Glancing at his watch, Orvill remembered that he hadn't checked it by the club clock. So he looked
across the street, hoping he might see a clock above the door of the office building opposite.

INSTEAD of a clock, Orvill saw the building's name, and he did not like it. It happened to be the Galba
Building, where James Laverock had his office. In turn, James Laverock happened to be the biggest
bounder on the governing committee of the Avenue Club.