"Nat Pinkerton, King Of Detectives - The Bloody Talisman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pinkerton Nat)

Around seven oТclock Inspector MacConell appeared, and he was equally baffled. He could not imagine that the Chinese had contrived to carry their victim through the busy streets to Chinatown.

"You and I, Bob, must once again transform ourselves into slant-eyes sons of the Heavenly Kingdom!" Pinkerton finally said. "It would be base of me not to take every measure I can to free Nefeldt from the hands of his enemies. LetТs off to Chinatown!"

Bob was compelled by the danger, and since he was as fluent in Chinese as his boss, he had no reason to fear being recognized.

Nat Pinkerton was still conversing with his assistant and the inspector by the entrance when somebody in a blue shirt drove up with a hand cart. There was a savage expression on his face, and a scar stood out on his left cheek.

He politely doffed his cap and went in by the front entrance. Pinkerton looked at him and said: "Aha, an old acquaintance! How are you doing, Tom Bilsby?"

Bilsby shuddered, looked at the detective and exclaimed: "Mister Pinkerton?"

"One and the same! IТm glad you remember me."

"Our acquaintance was not very pleasant," objected Bilsby and looked gloomily at the detective.

"Whatever happened is past," replied Pinkerton. "I see that youТre now a decent man and are earning your bread by honest labor."

"ThatТs true, I transport freight and make enough to live."

"IТm glad," answered the detective, "I hope we wonТt meet again under circumstances as unpleasant as the last time."

The porter asked the worker what he needed. Bilsby gave him a calling card and said: "I was sent for one of the trunks in front of the room of a gentleman on the sixth floor."

On the calling card was written: "Freddy Maxwell, representing the firm of Elfeston and Son, Boston." On the back was written in pencil: "Please give the bearer of the card one of trunks standing in front of my room, marked K. K. 100."

The porter went to his room, looked in a book and announced: "Mr. Maxwell, No. 22 on the sixth floor!"

Bilsby went with one of the servants to get the trunk.

Pinkerton turned to his assistant and the inspector.

"I put that Tom Bilsby in prison, and they let him out only two years ago. In his time he was one of the most dangerous robbers, and I had to chase him for quite a while. To be honest, I donТt believe heТs gone entirely straight. That Bilsby is not one to earn his daily meal by heavy labor, he doesnТt like to work at all. WeТll have to put a tail on him."

"And what should I do?" asked Bob.

"Go to our spare apartment near Chinatown for the time being. Disguise yourself as a Chinaman there, but make sure your makeup is right. I have a feeling that we have a difficult fight ahead of us. And could you, Mr. MacConell, send no fewer than fifty plain-clothes policemen to the vicinity of Mott Street for the day, and have them respond to my first whistle. As you know, on such occasions in Chinatown you need a large detail, there are so many of those yellow devils, and at any moment a hundred of those scoundrels will materialize, armed."

The inspector promised to send the detail and bid the detective farewell.

Pinkerton concealed himself in a building across the street. In several minutes, a hunchbacked old man with a thin gray beard and blue glasses emerged.

Inspector MacConell, still in conversation with the hotel owner, saw the old man but did not for a moment think it was Nat Pinkerton.

Bilsby and the servant came down the staircase with the heavy trunk. They loaded it on the hand cart.

Before leaving, Bilsby looked around cautiously. Evidently, his conversation with Pinkerton had aroused his anxiety. But when he saw there was nothing suspicious around, he set off. Soon he was hidden in the crowd, but he didnТt notice the grey old man in blue glasses following on his heels.