"077 (B041) - Merchants of Disaster (1939-07) - Harold Davis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

The next moment and he had bellowed for his secretary. She came on the run. Her eyes opened wide as her employer began to dictate furiously. What he said apparently made no sense, but she obeyed orders and put down letters as Quinan barked them. The letters read:





QPWDZ BRHYZ BBOPD WICGH

WGBUF QXPUM WBEIE CHAUK

EBRQS LTGJP RINDU LYLMF

OETYM FINDP BDTCZ VPTQD

BMSSS



The flashes stopped. Les Quinan was fairly jumping up and down in his excitement.



"Transcribe that, write the letters out large, then read them over to me," he barked.



Quinan had been a radio operator on a subchaser during the World War. He had found it easy to read the letters, being sent in international code. And during recent years he had become interested in cipher codes.



The one in which the message had been broadcast was a mediumly difficult one, but the first two words had caught his attention and had given him a clue. Those words were not m cipher and they were:



"Death Today!"





ON the fifth floor of the building across the street, a tall, slender, well-dressed man turned away from a window. His features were almost handsome, his smile attractive, but his black eyes were hard.



"I believe you were right about that lawyer," he said calmly.



His companion grunted, raised his eyebrows slightly.