"012 (B043) - The Man Who Shook The Earth (1934-02) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

This building was a spike of steel and brick which jutted up nearly a hundred stories. Its exterior was smooth stone and bright metal. Its architecture was modernistic, plain, dignified. It gleamed richly in lights reflected from the Great White Way, not very many blocks distant.
The lobby of this skyscraper was impressive. The elevators which served the upper floors numbered in the scores. The lobby itself was remindful of the interior of a cathedral.
Velvet, walking across the gigantic vestibule, felt as insignificant as a fly on the floor of an ordinary room. He shrugged off the sensation and threw out his chest. At this hour of the night only a few elevators were operating. Velvet stepped into a cage as large as a living room in an ordinary home.
"Eighty-six," he said,
He had, of course, removed the black handkerchief from his collar. The somber cloth had merely been in place to make himself less conspicuous while he conferred with Biff in the side street. It reposed in his pocket, however, handy for possible future use.
The elevator emptied Velvet into the eighty-sixth-floor corridor. He glanced about. The builders of the skyscraper had not scrimped on space. The corridor was high, wide; luxurious carpet covered the floor. Its nap felt an inch deep when Velvet walked across it.
The man, appraising his surroundings, made a silent whistle of slight amazement.
"This Doc Savage seems to be a big shot," he told himself quietly. "He has to be, to afford to hang out here. It's a good thing I didn't let Biff try his strong-arm stuff."
Velvet waded the carpet down the corridor. His gaze roved over door numbers. He reached the one he desired. Somewhat blankly, he stared at the panel.
The door was very plain, and of heavy bronze. The bronze was what interested Velvet. It was the first time he had ever seen that metal look nearly as rich as gold.
In tiny letters of a bronze color, slightly darker than that of the door, there was a name:
CLARK SAVAGE, JR
"
That's the gentleman," said Velvet. His tone was ugly.
He looked for a bell, found none, and tried the knob. The door was locked. He made a face, then knocked.
The door promptly sprang wide open.
Velvet leaped backward as wildly as if he had been confronted by a flame-spouting dragon.
It was an astounding personage who had opened the door. He was fully a head shorter than Velvet, but would weigh almost twice as much. His enormous, hairy hands dangled well below his knees. His eyes were tiny, and sunk in deep pits. They resembled twinkling stars set deep in gristle. Every exposed inch of his skin was covered with a crop of hair only slightly less coarse than barbed wire. One of his ears was punctured as if for an earring, except that the perforation was about the size of a rifle-bullet hole.
The man would not have to be in a very dark alley for a spectator to mistake him for a gorilla.
"Something I can do for you, buddy?" he asked.
Velvet blinked. From that apish, ferocious-looking giant he had expected a voice that was a whooping roar. But the homely fellow's voice was tiny and mild.
"I'm looking for Doc Savage," Said Velvet.
"He ain't here," replied the pleasantly ugly monster in the door.
VELVET considered this. He adjusted his black bow tie. "That's tough," he said. "Maybe you can help me out. What's your name?"
"They generally call me Monk," said the homely fellow.
Velvet's lip curled. "You can't blame 'em for that. You're the janitor here, aren't you, Monk?"
"Did somebody tell you?" "Monk" asked, in his small voice.
"I'm a good guesser." Velvet showed all of his white teeth in a somewhat wolfish grin. "Listen, Monk, do you want to make two hundred dollars?"
Monk snorted. "What a question to ask!"
"O.K., then," Velvet said rapidly. "Now listen: I'm a newspaper reporter. I've been trying to interview this Doc Savage, but I haven't had any luck. I can't even see him. I want you to let me stay here in the office after you lock up. In that way, I can see him. I've got to get a story for my paper, the Times-Flash."
Monk pulled thoughtfully at the ear which had the bullet hole in it. "Well, I don't knowЧ"
"Two hundred dollars," Velvet reminded. "And I promise youЧI won't tell Doc Savage how I got in."
"Five hundred," Monk said.
Velvet's face turned fierce. He gritted, "Why, you chiselerЧ" then thought better of it. He shrugged his neatly tailored shoulders, spread his hands. "You win," he said.
Producing a wallet, Velvet counted out a sheaf of greenbacks. "It's lucky the Times-Flash pays for this."
Monk smacked his lips loudly in satisfaction, took the bills, and pocketed them. "Thanks, mister," he said. "I'll leave you now."
"Sure," Velvet agreed. "You don't want to be here when Doc Savage comes."
Monk squinted. His tiny eyes were almost lost in their gristle pits. "Do you know Doc Savage by sight, Mr.ЧerЧ"
"Velvet, John Velvet," said Velvet, then grimaced. He had been caught off guard a little. He had not intended to give his name. "Well, no, I'm not exactly sure that I can recognize Doc Savage."
"Good night!" Monk exclaimed. "You're about the only person here in New York who wouldn't know him by sight!"
Velvet dropped his lids to hide the sudden, ugly hardness in his eyes. "I'm a new reporterЧfrom the West."
"You'll know Doc Savage easy enough when you see him," Monk said. "He's a great bronze giant of a figure. In appearance alone, he's about the most remarkable man you've ever seen. His eyes will strike you, too. They're a strange color, like pools of flake gold that are being stirred around all the time. When a man looks at 'em, something just kind of happens to him. It's hard to explainЧ"
"You'd better explain it some other time," Velvet said hastily. "Clear out, Monk. Savage might show up and find out you had let somebody into his office."
Without a word, Monk walked into the corridor. He shut the door behind him.
Velvet made a face after the retreating gorilla of a man. He chuckled. "That guy is even dumber than Biff."
Then Velvet glanced about the office.
This was apparently the outer room of a suite. There was an expensive rug on the floor. Chairs were big, and made for comfort. Near the two great windows stood a table, the top of which was completely inlaid and looked costly. At one side, near a door, stood a large locker. On the other side of the room was an enormous safe.
Velvet went to the locker and gave its handle a twist. He failed to open it. He tried the door alongside. That, too, resisted him.
Velvet swung over to the gigantic safe, and learned it was shut securely. It would be about as easy to enter as a bank vault. Velvet shrugged and turned away. He lit a cigarette.
"Well, what if they are locked," he grumbled. "I didn't come up here to steal anything. My game is bigger stuff."