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

this movie shot. It’s one that will never reach—"
The lights went out. The darkness came so quickly it seemed to puff black smoke into every one’s eyes. Red
twisted loose from Captain Graves. But the irate trooper, Johnson, was up and swinging. He paid Red back in
full for the sock on the chin.

Captain Graves felt the movie film magazine ripped from his hand. He swung wildly at a figure he could not
see in the darkness. A man’s hard, sinewy fingers gripped his throat, then let him go.

Patricia Savage was slithering across the room. Her small feet made no sound in the deep rug. She was
groping for the outer door when it swung unexpectedly in her face.

Pat got through before any one could interfere. All lights in the big house were off. From downstairs came
feminine shrieks.

Pat could hear some one moving rapidly away from the library. She could not tell if the unseen person had
been inside or close to the door on the outside.

Pat was recalling the position of a telephone in the hallway off the reception room downstairs. She wanted to
call her cousin, Doc Savage, at his Manhattan skyscraper headquarters.



BACK in the library, Graves produced a flashlight. Red Mahoney was sitting on the floor. Blood was oozing
from his chin where Johnson’s knuckles had rapped him.

"Now hand me back that film magazine!" ordered Captain Graves.

"Don’t make me laugh," said Red. "My face hurts!"

"Who grabbed the box?" demanded the captain.

His light swept the faces of his men. It picked out the medical examiner. Arthur Jotther was standing
peaceably beside a State policeman. The flashlight uncovered no other person in the room.

"If I thought you had some one do that, I’d have you up six months for resisting and assault," the captain told
Red.

"You’ll never be famous," predicted Red, gloomily. "You can’t buck the news-reels, an’ I haven’t got the thing,
anyway." Mahoney was speaking the truth. He didn’t have it.



UP on the eighty-sixth floor of New York’s most impressive skyscraper, a slight buzzing started.

A voice spoke mechanically.

"This is a robot speaking. You are advised Doc Savage is absent. But any message you care to deliver will
be recorded on a dictaphone and will come to Doc Savage’s attention later. You may proceed with whatever
you wish to say."