"Death Takes Wings" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morrison William)

About a dozen private detectives had looked for the guilty men too. Nobody, so
far as he knew, had taken a shot at them. HeТd have to speak to Bracken and
Wyatt about it tomorrow. Meanwhile, the cop wanted an answer to his question.
Morley made the answer short, but that wasnТt enough for the cops. A man had
been killed, and they wanted to know all about it. They kept on asking
questions, and then other cops arrived and asked questions, too. It was two
oТclock before Morley got to bed.
He was up at six in the morning. He had seen the workers on two shifts, and he
wanted to see the men on the third before they went off at eight. He got to the
plant at six-thirty and looked around. The men on this shift worked in the same
way as did those on the others, steadily and fast, knowing that they had an
important job to do. Wanting to show everyone they meant business. There was no
sign of anything wrong.
The men went off at eight, and the day-workers came on. Morley racked his brains
and cursed himself for a fool. Somebody figured he knew enough to be dangerous.
But he himself couldnТt get it.
From the wing assembly plant he could see a light on in one of the offices
across the yard. Some of the office workers must be here before their usual
hours for checking in. That was a break. Morley left the assembly plant, stepped
across the yard. HeТd have a chance to talk to Wyatt or Bracken.
As he moved toward the door, he heard the shrill sound of a scream. His hand
fell to his gun again as he raced forward. Throwing the door open, he almost
bumped into a stenographer who was groping for the handle from the inside.

YATT was on the floor unconscious, a trickle of blood streaming down his
forehead. The only other door led to an inner office. It was closed. Morley
pulled at the knob. The door was locked.
A bullet took care of the lock, and he threw the door open. This was WyattТs
private office. Somebody had been tampering with the safe. The heavy outer door
was ajar. Inside, however, was a thin door that was opened by means of a key.
This was still shut.
WyattТs private office had another door. This door was closed, but not locked.
Morley went through it, passed through a room where the stenographer was
supposed to work, found himself in BrackenТs office.
Bracken was at his desk, facing the other way, leaning back in his swivel chair.
Morley barked at him.
УBracken, did anybody come through here?Ф
There was no answer. It was only then that Morley saw the swelling on the manТs
head, the thin stream of blood on his face.
Bracken was unconscious, and Morley decided that he could be left alone for a
while. He hastened back to where Wyatt was lying on the floor.
Armstrong was now bending over him. As Morley watched, he saw Wyatt stir and
heard him groan. He was coming to. A half-minute later, he sat up.
A doctor arrived, and it was not long before both Bracken and Wyatt were fit to
talk.
УWhat happened?Ф Morley asked.
It was Wyatt who answered.
УI got here about eight with Bracken. We both had a lot of work to do, and we
went to our offices. My stenographer was at work in her own room.
УI stepped in to give her some dictation and thought I heard a noise out here. I