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

CARDONA nodded to Clyde. The reporter grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil. His nimble fingers
transcribed in shorthand the shrill words of the terrified Paretti.

When Paretti was finally led away, cringing with fear, Clyde pointed to his stenographic notes; but
Cardona shook his head. The facts were already neatly arranged in his methodical police mind.

They were startling facts.

Cardona knew now that there had been four gunmen in the black speedboat. All four had been disguised
with burnt cork. But Sailor Marco had recognized the leader before he escaped from the hail of gunfire.
Marco was hiding in Hoboken; Paretti didn't know where. But he disclosed something far more
important.

Marco had boasted that he knew who the lieutenant of Davy Jones was. He was coming to Manhattan to
arrange plans for blackmail. He expected to pry big dough out of an unknown supercriminal by
threatening to expose the identity of the lieutenant who had headed the raid on the Equator.

Cardona sprang to his feet. So did Clyde Burke.

"This is all off the record," Joe snapped warningly. "If you come with me, you've got to promise that you
won't spill a word in print until I give you permission."

"Right!" Clyde replied.

Plain-clothes men spilled into the room. They were given quick instructions. Two cars left police
headquarters without any fuss. Cardona rode in one. Clyde sat well back in the other, to avoid being
recognized by a newshawk from a rival paper.

Their goal was a ferryhouse on the west side of Manhattan.

LAMONT CRANSTON stood, hat in hand, enjoying the salty breeze that blew across the choppy
waters of the Hudson.

A punctual man, it pleased him that he had made the nine-o'clock ferry in time. He was driving into town
from his palatial home in New Jersey, to attend to some routine investment matters. His sleek limousine
was parked in the ferry's vehicle alley. Cranston had sauntered up front to enjoy the cool breeze.

Few people noticed Cranston. A millionaire, a world-famous traveler, a big-game hunter, he chose to live
quietly and without publicity. His name appeared occasionally in the social and financial pages of the
newspapers.

But today, as he stood idly near the churning bow of the ferry, Cranston's mind was concerned with
crime. Like most of the other ferry passengers, he had been shocked by the newspaper headlines that
announced the strange piracy aboard the Equator, and its murderous and mystifying sequel.

A burning glint appeared in the depths of his deep-set eyes. For an instant, another, inner, man was
revealed behind the placid exterior of Lamont Cranston. Then that grim, briefly exposed personality
vanished.