"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 290 - Death has Grey Eyes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"In the underworld of Paris," explained Greug, "it is a common practice
for bands to fight among themselves with the same intensity that they exhibit
when combating the authorities. Dolbart's scar was a trophy of years ago and
he
regarded it as distinction. He has found it a handicap since he ventured into
a
larger world."
"That's why he can't show his face?"
"Exactly. Among the scum who are roving Europe, selling their services to
the highest - and therefore the most heinous bidders - Dolbart was perhaps the
worst. In a sense he became the most dangerous when forced to rely on others
in
order not to reveal himself. He is a lone hand turned brain."
It was interesting information, but it was leading further from the main
fact that Dick wanted. Hoping to make the most of Greug's present talkative
mood, Dick shot home the question:
"What has Dolbart to do with Friedrich?"
 Cold, unyielding was the fixed expression in Greug's eyes, but they were
helpful, not spiteful. They seemed, by their hypnotic stare, to be opening
Dick's field of forgotten memories. He remembered now, meeting that very stare
once before, when it's effect had been the opposite.
Then, as Dick's memory returned, he knew he had been listening to a
shrill, fierce voice delivering what seemed to be an oration in a language he
didn't understand. It had penetrated to the room where he had been, there in
the lonely mountain chalet, and Greug, arriving at the time, had given Dick a
hypnotic treatment.
"Do you remember Friedrich?"
Greug asked the question impassively, but pride in his hypnotic prowess
was evidently at stake. Dick felt he shouldn't have remembered.
"It was only because Eric reminded me," stated Dick. "Just before he drew
the gun."
"A great fool, Eric," declared Greug, relaxing his gaze. "Did he mention
the rest of Friedrich's name?"
Dick shook his head.
"It was Friedrich Von Reichfrid," spoke Greug, solemnly. "It stood for
freedom of the state, the sort of freedom that would mean new slavery.
Friedrich Von Reichfrid, the Future Fuehrer."
The grim significance of the statement was gripping Dick. Observing it,
Greug added:
"If you would like to see the perfect portrait of this man Friedrich,
look
there!"
Facing the frame toward which Greug gestured, Dick Whitlock stopped short
in unfeigned horror as he met his own reflection in a mirror!
It couldn't be a joke, not coming from Greug, the man who didn't jest.
Moreover, Dick could see Greug's eyes, gazing across his own shoulder as they
had so often before, fixed in that same solemn manner.
"Yes, you are Friedrich's double," spoke Greug. "There were another
hundred who might have done as well, but you were chosen for the distinction,
if it could be called such."