"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 282 - Death in the Crystal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

DEATH IN THE CRYSTAL
Maxwell Grant
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? CHAPTER I
? CHAPTER II
? CHAPTER III
? CHAPTER IV
? CHAPTER V
? CHAPTER VI
? CHAPTER VII
? CHAPTER VIII
? CHAPTER IX
? CHAPTER X
? CHAPTER XI
? CHAPTER XII
? CHAPTER XIII
? CHAPTER XIV
? CHAPTER XV
? CHAPTER XVI
? CHAPTER XVII
? CHAPTER XVIII
? CHAPTER XIX
? CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER I
MAHATMA XANADU stepped from the purple curtains, bowed to his small but fashionable audience,
polished his crystal ball, and went right to work.

He was a singular personage, this bearded gentleman who claimed that he had brought the deepest
wisdom from Tibet, to retail it via the crystal ball. But perhaps the most singular thing about Mahatma
Xanadu was his ability to sell that same idea to swank New Yorkers at ten dollars a customer.

Since there were about two dozen clients in his fancy seance parlor, the Mahatma was doing all right - or
would be until the police slapped down with a fortune telling charge, which was something always
imminent. That was why the gentleman from Tibet conducted his affairs with the same charm and finesse
that characterized a gambling joint.

The barred door had a peep-hole, through which visitors could be eyed, and the man in charge was
Akbar, a huge Turk, who stood with folded arms and tilted fez. When not engaged in admitting visitors, it
was Akbar's duty to stare at Mahatma Xanadu as though believing that his Tibetan master had stopped in
Egypt to pick up the riddle of the Sphinx as a mere by-product to augment his Himalayan wisdom.

Odd, the way intelligent people fell for this stuff.
Such was the opinion of Margo Lane on this, her first trip to the garish preserves of Mahatma Xanadu.
Maybe the mystic could be excused for having his headquarters over an East Side tailor shop, because
even a genuine vision in a crystal ball couldn't answer the present housing shortage in Manhattan. But to
Margo, everything about the Mahatma spelled fake.