"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 269 - The Golden Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"In your room, Mr. Verne? Of course not! Why?"

"My door. It's open! I'm positive that I closed it before I went to the washroom."

"Are you sure?"

Peter Verne scratched his tousled head. He wasn't really sure when he tried to think about it. Half asleep,
he smiled ruefully.

"Perhaps I'm mistaken. It just struck me as queer, that's all. Good night, nurse."

"Good night, Mr. Verne."

Once more the hall lapsed into the dim silence of a well-run hospital at night. But the nurse at the desk
found herself growing increasingly restive. She was no longer angry about the strange buzzer signal from a
soundly sleeping patient. She felt herself become more and more uneasy.

There was a sinister quality to that heavy silence along the corridor. The nurse shivered without knowing
why. She told herself she was a fool, but the feeling persisted.

A feeling of dread, a sense of something evil stirring behind the placid routine of Mercy Hospital!

She found herself staring at the loud-speaker on the corridor wall beyond her desk. It was the speaker
used in summoning doctors whose whereabouts were not known at the moment.

The nurse wondered uneasily if tonight there might be a call for "Dr. Blarney."

Just to think of that name increased her feeling of fright. "Dr. Blarney" was a code name. It was never
used except in time of emergency. To nurses and orderlies, the summoning of "Dr. Blarney" meant only
one thing:

"Something has gone seriously wrong! Soothe your patients. Kid them along. Don't let them suspect that
there is any trouble!"

The last time the loud-speaker had blared "Dr. Blarney's" name, a maniac patient had slashed two
physicians to death with a homemade knife!

"I'm acting like a fool," the nurse thought as she stared along the corridor in cold uneasiness. "Everything
is all right."
She was mistaken. Everything was not all right!

CHAPTER III. THE GOLDEN DROP
"RIGHT here, doc," the policeman said.

He waved back the crowd of curious loiterers that had gathered about the areaway.

Dr. Riker bent over the victim. He sniffed at the man's lips, made a quick, almost bored examination.

"What's wrong with him, doc?" the cop asked.