"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 041 - The Black Spot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Graves turned to Arthur Jotther.

"The circumstances remain such that I’ll have to hold you for questioning," he said. "Now you might tell us
what you’ve done with the hundred and thirty-one grand? I suppose you thought by breaking Vandersleeve’s
whisky glass, it would escape analysis. I expect we’ll find this black poison on the pieces."

Arthur Jotther remained cool.

"I expected to be arrested," he said, quietly. "I don’t see how you could do anything else. However, I hope I
get clear soon enough to help find the real murderer."

Captain Graves, after formally holding Arthur Jotther, seemed puzzled as to his next procedure.

"We’ll have an autopsy as quickly as possible," he instructed the medical examiner. "There isn’t much to be
done until we find the character of the poison."

The doctor had been examining the dead man’s eyes.

"Maybe there’ll be poison, but I doubt it," he decided.

"There’s got to be something!" growled Captain Graves. "What’s that black spot?"

"You tell me that, and we won’t need an autopsy," said the examiner.

Before Captain Graves could reply, the library flared brilliantly with a white light. From behind an alcove
curtain close to Pat Savage came the little clicking grind of a movie camera in operation.

Red Mahoney had made a quick set-up. He was burning a calcium flare that would last about a minute and a
half. Already he had the biggest murder news of the day recorded in the running strip of celluloid.

Captain Graves roared and his big body shoved across the room. He snatched the drapery to one side. Red
grinned at him evenly.

"Hello, captain," he remarked calmly, still turning the little crank. "Saw a chance to get a good shot and
thought I wouldn’t bother you. Mind moving over just a little."

"You’ll get no shot in here, an’ you know it!" rapped the State police captain. "Here! Gimme that magazine!"

"But I’ve already got it," chuckled Red. "It’s now the property of the Future Pictures Corporation and—"

"I don’t care if it’s the property of all Hollywood, you’re not taking it with you!" roared Captain Graves.
"Johnson, grab the machine!"

Johnson, a burly State copper, seized the magazine. The knobby fist of Red punched outward and upward.
The State copper was unfortunately exposing his chin. But as he started to topple, Captain Graves fastened a
throttling hold upon Mahoney.

The captain hooked the movie magazine with his other hand.

"That punch will get you about sixty days to cool off," he advised Red Mahoney. "And we’ll take good care of