"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 260 - The Money Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

As a private investigator, Bert was right in line. His record of integrity was his safeguard. Tonight his ship
had come along in the form of a million-dollar suitcase piloted by Gregg Emmart. Bert had dispatched a
single torpedo to sink that ship, with its skipper. The torpedo was Bert's confidential phone call to
another opportunist named Shep Ficklin.

Withal, greed had gotten the best of Bert Cowder. He couldn't forget the office across the way, where
the safe was probably loaded with even more fabulous sums, considering the ease with which the clerk
had paid off on the Ten Tarka note.

Who owned all that money? Bert Cowder could think of only one term to define the unknown. The man
must be a Money Master. It was time that Bert thought about himself. Calling for another beer, he leaned
across the bar and inquired smoothly:

"You saw that fellow who left awhile ago?"

The bartender nodded.

"A headquarters man," stated Bert. "I'm a private cop working with him." Bert showed a badge. "You
know that phone call he made before he left?"

Another nod from the barkeep, exactly as Bert hoped. The fellow had noticed that someone from the
corner table had gone to the phone, but hadn't checked which man it was. Bert having laid aside his
derby hat at the time, would logically have passed as Emmart.

"He was phoning headquarters," confided Bert. "About that discount office across the way. Keep an eye
on the windows for me, while I phone headquarters to see if Emmart got there."

This time, Bert's call was valid. Connected with Cardona's office, he asked if Emmart had arrived with
the million dollars. Mention of such a sum brought an outburst from Cardona, who thought Bert was
kidding. The private dick put the inspector straight.

"I saw the stuff, Joe," Bert argued. "It must have been what worried Brune. The gunzels that got him
probably thought he had the dough."

"You mean Brune was murdered?" demanded Cardona. "How come Emmart didn't phone me?"

"He had trouble putting the call through," returned Bert. "So he hopped a cab to headquarters. I wanted
to go along and help guard the dough, but Emmart told me to watch the office where we picked it up.
The bunch there have got a lot more like it. They may be running it off on a printing press, for all I know.
But the stuff looked realтАФ"

Interruptions were coming fast, as Bert expected. Cardona wasn't going to wait for Emmart to reach
headquarters. Joe wanted to know where Bert was, in order to bring a squad there right away. So Bert
gave the address and went back to the bar.

BERT was timing it just right. By now, Shep and his tribe had settled the Emmart question and gathered
in the cash that Bert was quite sure would prove real, though he'd purposely expressed a doubt to
Cardona. Bert had also told Shep to double back to the Apex office and add a clean sweep there.

A surprise raid would not only produce a rapid robbery; it would leave the dazed personnel of the Apex