"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 101 - The Gray Ghost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

CHAPTER VIII. NEWS TO THE SHADOW
IT was late the next afternoon. Headlines had screamed the word of new crimes. The Gray Ghost had
become a front page figure. His case was one that brought mystery.

Last night, the police had gained a lead to Thomas Culden. They had gained the secretary's full name;
they had learned that he had been living at a boarding house near Eighth Avenue. But he had made a
mysterious departure before the police uncovered the facts.

There had been battle in the street where Culden lived. That, too, had brought perplexity; although it had
started the investigation that had produced inquiry at the boarding house. Finally, there had been new
robbery on Long Island. An empty house had been entered; whether or not the crooks had made a haul
was a question, for the owners were in Europe.

Reports told simply that the house had been left in disarray; the crime, itself, had been attributed to the
ever-present Gray Ghost.

Crime, as a rule, caused no talk at the exclusive Cobalt Club, which boasted the most conservative
membership of any Manhattan group. Quiet usually persisted at the Cobalt Club; loud or excited
discussions were taboo. But on this particular day, the rule had been broken. Distinguished-looking men
were gathered in little groups; their faces were long and troubled, their conversation heated.

Many of the club members were residents of Long Island. All were wealthy, otherwise they would not
have belonged to the Cobalt Club. They were persons who feared future raids by the Gray Ghost.

Police Commissioner Weston was a member of the Cobalt Club. He had arranged for gun permits for
those who lived on Long Island, including the ones outside the city limits. More than that, he had come to
the club in person to chat with members and allay their fears of death and burglary.

Word-weary, Weston managed at last to break away from the final group. Tartly, he requested that no
one would disturb him for the next half hour. That courtesy conceded, Weston entered the grillroom to
indulge in a light meal. He saw a lone diner seated at a table and smiled in relief as he recognized Lamont
Cranston. Weston joined his friend at the table.

“JOVE, Cranston!” began the commissioner. “My head is in a whirl! It is great to meet some one who
will not bother me with incessant questions.”

“You made a mistake in coming here,” remarked The Shadow. “You should have known that you would
be deluged with questions about the Gray Ghost.”

“It was policy to come. The members of the Cobalt Club are influential. I had to reassure them.”

“Even though you yourself are perplexed.”

Weston smiled; then shook his head.

“This Gray Ghost business is not quite so complicated as you think, Cranston,” declared the
commissioner. “We have begun to get at matters. Meanwhile, we have allowed the newspapers to
speculate as much as they desire.”