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

Irene heard herself say:
"How?"
"By making what the friends of Dick Whitlock would term a "play" for him.
It would simplify matters between Friedrich and the girl."
"But I thought Claire was through with Dick - I mean with Friedrich -"
"With Dick!" interrupted Greug, his eyes glaring like livid orbs. "Use
that name only! You understand?"
"I understand."
"The other girl wants Dick back," explained Greug. "Your task is to end
all thought of such folly and at the same time convince Friedrich that you are
worthy."
Greug's tightening smile specified the rest and with it, the strange
doctor wheeled, strode from the dressing room and swung the door shut behind
him. The slam brought Irene to her feet; springing to the door, she planted
her
hand on the key.
Then, with mad afterthought, the girl caught up her dressing gown from
the
chair, bundled it tightly about herself with one hand, while she used the
other
to scoop a small automatic from the dressing table drawer. A moment later,
Irene was out in the corridor, ready to deal with Greug if she found him.
The man of Faustus bearing had disappeared. Not realizing the moments she
had wasted, Irene was amazed at what seemed an absolute vanish. All that was
needed to make it perfect was for the devil to pop up in Greug's place.
And the devil did pop up.
He appeared suddenly in flaming red, with costumed tail and a boot
resembling a cloven hoof. His features, streaked with the color of brimstone
were truly demoniac beneath the horns that jutted from his forehead. At sight
of the glaring image, Irene choked a grateful sob and sank into the arms of
his
Satanic Majesty.
The devil took off his mask to prove how handsome it was in contrast to
his own face. The man who was wearing the Mephistophelean outfit was Leo
Dolbart, the scar-faced leader of the Maquis.
"I've seen him!" gasped Irene. "Here!"
"Why not?" Despite its ugliness, Leo's smile was kindly. "It is time that
he came to thank you."
"I don't mean Dick. I mean Greug! And he talked about Friedrich, as
though
Friedrich were here too!"
Leo looked sharply about; then tapped lightly at the door of a dressing
room. In a low tone, he said: "Pequin!" then stepping to another door, he
rapped and spoke the name: "Franchot!"
The two Apaches promptly appeared, wearing fancy pantaloons and tunics of
gaudy-hued velvet, with berets tipped over their eyes. Nobody would have
recognized Pequin and Franchot, dancers newly added to the bill at the
Starview
Roof, as the lurking assassins who had previously stalked Dick Whitlock.
In French, Leo ordered them to search the dressing rooms on the chance