"020 (B026) - Death in Silver (1934-10) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"Aye not bane know," mumbled the fireman, feeling his blond head.



"Who hit you?" Ham persisted.



"He bane a feller all dressed up in shiny suit," was the reply. "Aye just see him - then bop! He hit me with gun."



The room where they stood was a concrete inferno far below the street, where the great oil-burning boilers roared, generating steam for the radiators and hot water for the washrooms.



Moved by a thought - he was sharp in spite of Monk's habit of terming him a nitwit shyster - Ham went over and peered into one of the fire boxes. He started violently, moved to use his sword to probe in the heat, then changed his mind and employed a cleaning bar.



Out of the fire box Ham brought a crinkled mass that had once been silver metallic cloth.



"The suit the murderer was wearing," he declared.



"Then it is some one in the building," Monk growled. "The fellow burned his rig because the police have the doors blocked and are not letting any one out."





UNNOTICED, a man was standing in the background near the door. He was a scrawny fellow, bedecked with grease stains and dirt, garbed in the green coveralls which the janitors of the building wore. It was because he was one of the janitors that he was receiving no attention.



He deserved attention. No hint of the fact showed on his features, but he was catching every word that was being said, He had a stupid face, anyway; it was almost without a jaw, being round, with small features, and having a sickly gray color. His whole head was very much like an old, white rubber ball which had been handled with grimy fingers. He wore a costly wrist watch.



The fellow glanced over his shoulder, as if anxious to get out of the boiler room. Shortly, he did leave, but he took his time so that no suspicion was attached to his departure.



Finding his way to a telephone, he called a number. A voice - a coarse, whispering voice, obviously disguised - answered.