"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 335 - Riddle of the Rangoon Ruby" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

the
Cobalt Club to check any new developments.
"No results with New York men," Cranston told her, "so it's still likely
that Carter Mycroft bought the original, so learn all you can out there. By
the
way, the police checked the name and address of the man who bought the replica
from Tolliver's clerk."
"What did they learn?"
"Nobody by that name lives there. In fact, nobody lives there at all. The
address is a parking lot."
Margo enjoyed the dinner party with Zelda and her friends, so it was well
into the evening when Zelda summoned her limousine and they started the
three-hour trip out to Mycroft's. Zelda, a vivacious blonde, was in a chatty
mood, telling Margo what went on there. Carter Mycroft had been buying up
hundreds of acres of abandoned farms and woodland, much to the annoyance of
another large landowner named Peter Darcy, who, in Zelda's frank opinion, was
almost as grasping and self-willed as her uncle. To confirm that opinion,
Zelda
put a query to the limousine's chauffeur, a quiet, competent driver named
Tilson.
"It began when Uncle Carter bought the Homestead Dairy," Zelda told
Margo,
"which Darcy could have bought just as cheap - or cheaper." Here, she leaned
forward and said, "Couldn't he have, Tilson? Or could he have?"
"Quite right," agreed Tilson, "he could have."
"Anyway," continued Zelda, "Uncle Carter cut off the right-of-way that
Darcy used for horseback riders to go through to the dude ranch he had
started.
So Darcy dug up some old deeds - or maybe titles - which were they, Tilson?
Deeds or titles?"
"Deeds, I believe, Miss Mycroft."
"And the deeds," continued Zelda, "gave Darcy the right-of-way. So Darcy
sued Uncle Carter to get it, which was the wrong thing to do."
"Why wrong?" asked Margo. "Darcy was right, wasn't he?"
"From his standpoint, yes," agreed Zelda, "but from Uncle Carter's, no.
Anybody who crosses up Uncle Carter is wrong in his book. Right, Tilson?"
"Right, Miss Mycroft."
"Fortunately," Zelda told Margo, "a man named Donald Keswick is buying
the
old Homestead Dairy from Uncle Carter. He and Darcy have come to the house to
discuss it and they're coming again tomorrow. But Uncle Carter won't talk to
Darcy except through a lawyer, so I guess it will be up to Keswick to settle
it."
It was near midnight when the limousine swung in through the main gate of
Mycroft Manor, as the extensive estate was called. Traversing woods and
shrub-studded lawn, the car approached a sprawling mansion that was barely
outlined in the pale moonlight. Then, suddenly, a mammoth glow immersed the
entire building, with spotlights gleaming from every corner and rotary
searchlights sweeping from along the roof.
"It all works automatically," explained Zelda, laughing at Margo's