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

thousand dollars here, to my home.”

“What is his name?”

Cardona showed impatience. Debrossler nodded willingly.

“The man,” declared the banker, “is Hiram Windler. He is—”

Debrossler stopped. Cardona had raised an interrupting hand.

“Tell me,” demanded the acting inspector. “What time was Windler due here?”

“At half past eight,” replied Debrossler. “That is why I came up here to the study. Why do you ask?”

“Because,” returned Cardona, “I was on my way to Windler's when your butler stopped me. It was on
account of Windler that I came to Long Island.”

“Windler summoned you?”

“No. Unfortunately, he was unable to do so.”
Debrossler stared, puzzled; so did Pennybrook, half slumped upon the couch.

“Windler could not summon you?” queried Debrossler. “What do you mean by that, inspector?”

“I mean,” replied Cardona, solemnly, “that Hiram Windler is dead.”

Then, as the listeners stared in total silence, the acting inspector added:

“He was murdered at eight o'clock to-night.”

CHAPTER III. THE LAW'S TRAIL
IT was ten o'clock when a coupe pulled up in front of a squatly house near Long Island Sound. A tall
driver alighted; he was immediately challenged by a uniformed policeman, who put the query:

“What do you want here, sir?”

“My name is Lamont Cranston,” spoke the arrival, in a leisurely tone. “I have come to see Police
Commissioner Weston. I am a friend of the commissioner's; I observed his car in the driveway.”

The policeman hesitated; then decided to admit the visitor. Cranston was attired in evening clothes. He
looked like a friend of the fashionable commissioner.

Inside the house, the tall arrival ran into Acting Inspector Cardona. The stocky man gave immediate
greeting. Lamont Cranston was known to Joe Cardona.

Dim hall light showed a slight smile upon the hawklike features of the arrival. Cranston followed Cardona
to a parlor, where he was greeted by a man of military appearance: Commissioner Ralph Weston. The
commissioner tugged at the tips of his pointed mustache.

“How did you happen to come here, Cranston?”