"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 169 - River of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

merchandise might have attracted the two-bit mobsters of Sailor Marco, but never those efficiently
murderous henchmen of the unknown Davy Jones. Something more important was behind the Equator
massacre.

"I figure it this way," Clyde said. "Sailor Marco and his punks were after the cheap merchandise. Were
the other guys after it, too? I doubt it. Not with the high-powered boat and the complete arsenal they
seemed to have. I think Sailor Marco's gang got in the way of these bigger shots.

"That's why they were branded on the forehead and drowned. That's why one of them was boldly lugged
across Manhattan and dumped into the Central Park Lake. The whole stunt was a challenge to the
underworld as well as to the police. Don't you see the warning? Keep clear of Davy Jones - leave the
river front to him - or you'll end up in Davy Jones' locker!"
It was Cardona's turn to grin. He bent forward and chopped a quick command into the square black box
of his desk annunciator.

"Bring in Smoke Paretti!" he growled.

"Paretti?" Clyde said, startled.

"We found him hiding in the back room of a West Street flophouse, with a bullet through his shoulder.
Nobody but you knows that he's under arrest. He admits he was aboard the Equator last night and got
shot when he jumped ashore. Claims that he didn't recognize any of the other gang. But I got a hunch that
Paretti has softened up considerably. If he doesn't know anything, he can give us a line on Sailor Marco -
who does know, or I'll eat my hat!"

A moment later, Paretti was led in by two stalwart detectives. He slumped heavily into a chair and the
dicks went out. Smoke's arm and shoulders were bandaged. His face was deathly pale, but his wound
was not serious. The pallor on his face came from terror.

Cardona spoke gently to him, asked him a question. Paretti's lips clamped. He refused to talk.

Instantly, Cardona's pleasant face changed. His jaw hardened, his dark eyes became flinty.

"Listen, Smoke! You're on the spot! Squeal, and I give you my word you'll go free as a State's witness
after we nail those cop killers. Or you can keep your trap shut; and I'll see that you go to the chair for
murder!"

"I didn't kill no cops! You can't prove I was in that black speedboat. I can prove I wasn't!"

Cardona nodded.

"Sure you can, Smoke. But can you prove you didn't bump off Rat Murphy a little over three weeks
ago? That's the murder rap I'm talking about. Think it over."

Paretti's face turned green. He knew that Sailor Marco had killed Rat Murphy. But he knew also that he
was finger man for the job. His voice rose in a shrill squeal.

"I'll talk! The hell with Marco! Why should I front for him? He scrammed and left me to take a slug,
damn him! I don't even know where he's hiding. But I can tell you how you can pick him up in half an
hour!"