"065 (B056) - The Giggling Ghosts (1938-07) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Batavia got behind Monk and slugged him with the heavy end of the fid. Monk fell his length on the floorboards, momentarily dazed, and began to breathe in a normal fashion.
"That homely ape," Batavia complained, "is full of tricks. What d'you think of that—tryin' to get out of bein' gagged?"
The prisoners were prodded out of the hatch, goaded onto the dock, and led to the street.
Batavia said, "We better get rid of their car."
BATAVIA went to the limousine which Monk and Ham had used. A couple of men went with him. He opened the door, started to get in, and was greeted by a belligerent grunt and an angry chattering noise. Batavia turned a flashlight beam into the rear seat. He was curious.
The pig, Habeas, and the ape, Chemistry, batted their eyes in the flashlight glare.
"A regular zoo!" Batavia grumbled. He got into the car. When the pets tried to escape, he slammed the door and kept them in the automobile.
Batavia drove the car out on a dock, headed the machine toward the wharf end, and jumped out and slammed the door. The car ran to the end of the dock, nosed over, and entered the water with a whoosh! of a splash.
"You left that pig an' the ape in there!" a man muttered.
Batavia stood at the dock edge and listened to big bubbles make glub! noises. He dashed his flashlight beam down briefly. The water was slick with oil, and bubbles kept bounding out of the water like frightened white animals.
"You left that pig an' ape in the car!" the man muttered again.
Batavia said, "I didn't like the way the danged things looked at me."
Batavia threw his cork-tipped cigar in the water, took a fresh cigar out of his clothing, removed the Cellophane band, threw it at the bubbles and put the cigar in his mouth. Then they led the prisoners to two cars parked in near-by side streets. The captives and half of Batavia's men loaded in one machine.
"You fellows take the prisoners to the boss's place."
"What are you gonna do?" a man demanded.
Batavia took his cork-tipped cigar out of his mouth and laughed grimly.
"I'm gonna rig somethin' for Doc Savage," he said.
The car pulled away with the captives. Batavia vanished in the darkness, headed back toward the little schooner. Half of his men followed him.
Chapter VI. HUNT FOR A WATCH
DOC SAVAGE had completed a thorough examination of the old bleak storehouse with the tin roof. But to all outward appearance, the search netted nothing.
Birmingham Lawn seemed disappointed. The golf-ball protuberance that served Lawn as an Adam's apple went up and down as he swallowed. He had whistled something from a tune, and the rest of the time he had giggled, or just watched.
"I was hoping," he said, "that you would solve the mystery."
Doc Savage did not comment.
The policemen by now had tired of the mystery, and in addition, they held a suspicion that the whole business would not look so good in the newspapers.
"The public will think the Jersey police are a lot of jackasses," a cop muttered, "once the newspapers get hold of this."
"Then why notify the newspapers?" Doc asked. The bronze man didn't like newspaper publicity.
The policemen thought that was a swell idea.
One cop said, "Furthermore, maybe there ain't nothin' to it. The girl admitted her whole story was a lie. She just made the thing up so she could meet Doc Savage."
Doc Savage neglected to remind the cops that an attempt with violence had been made to prevent the girl reaching him.
Finally the cops took their departure.
Doc Savage began loading his fingerprint paraphernalia in his car. Birmingham Lawn trailed the bronze man around.
"Matters seem to have become quiet for the time being," Doc Savage told Lawn. He extended a hand. "It's pleasant to have met you, Mr. Lawn, and let us hope that your property is not molested again."
Birmingham Lawn made a big grin.
"Could I make a request?" he asked.
"Request?"
"I haven't the slightest doubt but that you are molested a great deal by pests," Lawn said. His melon of a stomach shook as he chuckled. "But I should like very much to go along with you, providing you have any intention of continuing to investigate this—ah—mystery."
"Why do you wish to go along?"
"Well, I've read a great deal about you." Lawn squirmed and looked embarrassed. "Matter of fact, I'm a great admirer of yours. I'd give a lot to watch you work for a while." He smiled fatuously. "I suppose it's a form of hero worship, and I'm fully aware that you probably consider me a silly pest."
Doc Savage said, "It may be a little dangerous."
"In that case," Lawn said, "you can depend on me to run. I am not a brave man."
Doc Savage got into his car.
"My aids, Monk and Ham, are trailing that girl," he explained.
TAKING for granted that he had permission to accompany the bronze man, Birmingham Lawn planted his long-limbed, loose-jointed frame on the car cushions and settled back, looking eager, and also nervous, like a man who has started out rabbit hunting with a shotgun and just remembered he is in bear country.
Doc Savage worked with the radio.
"Monk! Ham!" he said into the microphone.
He said that several times, then remarked, "Probably they are away from the other transceiver."
Doc Savage drove away from the storehouse, turned right, and drove toward the spot from which Monk and Ham had last reported.
Rain came down steadily, the drops swirling like snowflakes in the glare of the headlights. Several times Birmingham Lawn opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but was unable to think of anything to fit the occasion.
"You have no idea," he told Doc finally, "what a reputation you have." He fell to whistling bars from a popular tune.
When Doc Savage brought his car to a stop near the ramshackle boat house, Monk and Ham's car was nowhere in sight.