"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 035 - Murder Mirage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

WHILE unbelievable, almost fantastic weather history was being recorded in the offices of the government,
downtown streets rapidly became deserted. Shortly after midnight but little traffic moved in the vicinity of the
shopping districts. The snow had not been deep enough actually to block motor vehicles, but summer-clad
residents had faded from the streets.

The pale headlight beams of a small car penciled into a deserted block near an elevated railway corner. The
little car was a yellow coup├й of the "for rent" variety. The driver held to almost the exact middle of the street.
As the coup├й turned into the street, there was a loud, squishy blop! Air hissed for a few seconds.

"Oh!" breathed a tense voice. "I was afraid something would happen!"

A front tire had blown out.

Street lights picked out the face of the driver. The face was small, with features exquisitely formed. Large,
luminous eyes reflected the outside light. Slender white hands gripped the steering wheel. These hands were
inadequate to driving with a front tire flat.

The small coup├й coughed over to the curb. One side bedded down where the snow had drifted some.

"WeтАЩll have to get out here and go on quickly," said another woman, who was seated beside the driver. "I
know we were followed when we left the airport. We should have separated then."

The fear in the womanтАЩs voice was immediately confirmed. Two other cars were turning into the block. Both
were black, closed sedans. The curtains of both cars were tightly drawn.

The slender young woman under the wheel slid from her position. She pushed the door open against the
storm.

"WeтАЩll go different ways!" she exclaimed, breathlessly. "IтАЩll endeavor to catch an elevated train! Then you can
slip over to the next street and take a taxi!"

The two closed cars, one trailing the other, were moving down upon the coup├й. The young woman who had
spoken reached into the little car and snatched a satchel purse of metallic chain mesh from the seat. She
slipped and floundered with her first steps, but she gained the sidewalk and started running.

"You go the other way then!" she cried out to her companion. "Oh, hurry! IтАЩll get the message to Mr. Savage!
IтАЩll wait, if you do not get there first!"

One of the two sedans swerved past the yellow coup├й. Its invisible driver pulled the car in again close to the
young woman on the sidewalk. She had caught up her light skirts and her trim legs flashed with silk as she
ran. The clinging snow was more than ankle deep.

Four figures sprang from the sedan into the snowy street. These were men of unusually upright stature, but
they moved stiffly. Their feet made dragging motions, as if their legs and bodies were impeded by some heavy
weight.

These men were between the young woman and the elevated stairs at the corner. But they did not move as if