"012 (B043) - The Man Who Shook The Earth (1934-02) - Lester Dent (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)came near them. Doc had perfected many remarkable devices, but this was a new
one. For all of Monk’s canniness, he was stumped. The door opened in the same magic fashion as before, and Doc Savage reappeared. He carried a black composition tube which resembled a cylindrical phonograph record. Monk grinned. He knew what the record was. It was part of a device which was hooked to the telephone and recorded all conversations. This apparatus monitored Doc’s phone wire continuously. When one record became filled, another one shifted automatically into place. "Nothing but the telephone seems to have been touched," Doc said. Monk peered at the telephone. He considered himself a detective of fair ability. He was certain the instrument was placed exactly as it had always been. He did not doubt that it had been used, though. Doc rarely made a mistake. Going to the telephone, Monk peered at it from several angles. He sniffed. Then he got it. There was a faint tang of smoker’s breath about the mouthpiece. Neither Doc nor any of his five men smoked; and no one else used this instrument. Monk had missed the smoke scent on his first round of the room. Doc, however, had caught it. Doc’s nostrils had been trained to an animal sensitivity in smell perception. Doc switched on the mechanism which played back the record. The pick-up was amplified and reproduced through a loud-speaker. It was like listening to a bit of drama from a radio. "Hello," said a voice from the loudspeaker. "Doc Savage speaking." "Huh!" Monk gulped. "Why, the liar! That’s the guy who told me his name was Doc Savage requested silence with a lifted hand. "This is John Acre," said a slow, wheezing voice from the reproducing instrument. "I sent you several radiograms from the boat. I wonder if you have received any of them." "Yes," said Velvet. "They referred to various mysterious earthquakes." "Good!" exclaimed John Acre. "Then you know how important it is that I see you. I just landed from the steamer Junio ." "You wish to see me at once?" asked Velvet. "Immediately, Mr. Savage. May I come to your office?" "Not to my office," said Velvet. "Come to the Midas Club, on Park Avenue." "Very well, Mr. Savage," agreed John Acre. A sharp click ended the conversation. The recording had stopped automatically as soon as the receivers were hung up. "For the love of mud!" Monk ejaculated. "Did you hear that, Doc—the Midas Club! That’s Ham’s hang-out." THERE was a good reason for Monk’s surprise. The Midas Club was the residence of one member of Doc’s group of five remarkable aids. The man who lived there was Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks. He was the law expert of Doc’s squad. "Why should Velvet decoy this John Acre to Ham’s place?" Monk pondered. Doc made no reply. His bronze features showed no excitement. That did not mean he was unconcerned. For years, Doc had schooled himself in self-control. Now, it was only on the rarest of occasions that he showed any emotion. "John Acre said he had sent you some messages," Monk continued, eyeing Doc. "Did |
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