The Crime Clinic
- Автор: Грант Максвелл
- Серия: The Shadow #43
- Год: 1933
- Язык: английский
- Год: Street and Smith
- Жанр: Крутые детективы
Электронная книга - «The Crime Clinic». Краткое содержание книги:
THE end of the statement came so suavely that Joe Cardona was caught almost unaware of it. His own name, as uttered by Dubrong, seemed to re-echo in his mind. While the detective sat stolidly in his chair, Dubrong offered a suggestion.
“You came here for a consultation,” he declared. “I made a special effort to give you one. I would prefer, however, that we conduct our talk face to face. Unless, Cardona, you would prefer that I also put on some masquerading make-up.”
Realizing that he was discovered, Cardona’s first impulse was to bluff it through. Then he realized that such a plan would be folly. Dubrong had unquestionably recognized his visitor’s true identity. Sullenly, Joe Cardona removed his hat, his wig, and his false beard to reveal his own swarthy visage.
“That is better,” commented Dubrong, resuming his chair. “Now, Cardona, we are in a position to discuss the purpose of your unexpected visit.”
There was a tinge of sarcasm in the physician’s voice. Before Cardona could make a response, Dubrong continued, resuming his ironical tone.
“I make a study of human beings,” declared Dubrong. “Many types come into this consulting room. I have been approached by thieves, by murderers, by gangsters; but never before by a disguised detective.
“A man possessed of less penetration than myself might well be annoyed by such a visit. We met two nights ago, upon a scene where murder had fallen. At that time, I provided you with an excellent theory regarding the death of Rutherford Casslin. I notice that the newspapers have emphasized the murderous qualities of the Hindu whom I picked as the killer.
“To have you come here now would indicate doubt on your part — at least it would indicate such to a suspicious-minded person. But to me, Cardona, the truth is apparent. Realizing that I must have been observant in my clinic, you chose it as a spot to make some observations of your own.
“I quite admire your friendliness in not informing me that you intended to make this visit. It shows consideration on your part. You thought, probably, that I might not like to have you here. On the contrary, you are quite welcome. If that beard is not troublesome to you, I would suggest that you wear it and come here regularly. If you are interested in underworld types, you will find a parade of them in my waiting room, and I doubt that any will be keen enough to penetrate your really excellent disguise.
“Indeed, it nearly baffled me. As you sat there, however, I noticed it and realized who you must be. I saw that you intended to remove the beard and reveal yourself, although you were hesitating for fear I might misunderstand your motive in coming here. That is why I suggested, myself, that you should unmask.”
Joe Cardona clenched his fists. He would have liked to throttle this suave man who talked in such artful, purring tones of veiled sarcasm. Not content with merely unmasking Cardona, Dubrong had also saved the detective the trouble of making an excuse. Dubrong was gloating over his ability at detecting Cardona’s ruse.
The physician had ceased speaking. His eyes were inquiring now.
CARDONA felt his partially formed suspicions crystallizing into a definite opinion. He realized that he was no match at wits with Doctor Lysander Dubrong.
“Well,” he growled, “I thought maybe one of those Hindu mugs might be coming in here. I was a little worried about you, doctor. That was all. Guess I shouldn’t have been. You probably look out for yourself down here.”
“Of course,” smiled the physician. He opened a desk drawer and brought out a stub-nosed revolver. “I always have this with me. Would you like to see the license?”
“No,” returned Cardona. “I figured you might carry a gun, doctor. Thought I’d better make sure, though, that things were all right. I didn’t like to come brashing in here just out of a clear sky. Maybe some of your patients would have lit out if they saw a detective.”
“Another token of your consideration,” commended Dubrong, with a wan smile. “Well, Cardona, if there is any way in which I can be of service to you, be sure and advise me. How are you progressing with the Casslin case?”
“No results yet,” said Cardona. “We found out that the dead Hindu is named Tippu, but we haven’t located anybody who seems to know much about him.”
“I shall bear that name in mind,” returned Dubrong sagely. “There are many persons in the underworld who may make remarks to a physician that they would not make to a detective. Well” — Dubrong was glancing at his watch — “I must be leaving. I would suggest that you resume your effective disguise, and allow me to usher you out as I would any other patient.”
With a sour smile, Cardona picked up his false beard and donned it, together with wig and hat. Doctor Dubrong nodded approvingly, but still maintained his sophisticated smile. The physician arose and accompanied the detective to a doorway at the rear of the office. They went through a little entry, and came to another door, through which Cardona passed alone. Doctor Dubrong locked the door after the detective had gone.
Returning to his office, the physician locked the door of the entry, and began to chuckle. He seemed highly pleased with his unmasking of Joe Cardona. He did not reckon, however, that he, in turn, was unmasking himself. The peering eyes of The Shadow had never moved from beyond the anteroom door.
Seated at his desk, the physician remained a while in thought. His face showed peculiar changes; yet it was impossible to gain an exact trail of his thoughts through the flickering expressions. At last, under sudden impulse, Dubrong ended his reverie. He arose and came directly to the anteroom.
The Shadow edged into the deep side of the little room. When Doctor Dubrong opened the door from the consulting room, a shaft of light came through, but it did not reveal the silent, motionless form that was against the wall.
Even in his guise of a pretended blind man, The Shadow had donned his habitual color: black. Somber as ever, he had taken the guise of darkness as easily as a chameleon gains the color of its surroundings.
Moreover, Dubrong noticed something which engaged his entire attention. He saw that the light was out. He chuckled as he stared toward the ceiling, and mechanically opened the door beyond. He thought that this had simply been a ruse on Cardona’s part, while the detective was in the entry. Dubrong clicked the wall switch. The light did not come on. Finding that he could not quite reach the extinguished bulb, the physician continued through to the waiting room.
The Shadow moved swiftly then. He gained the consulting room, and looked about him. He could hear Dubrong returning with a chair, to tighten the light. The Shadow noted the lockers in the corner. He moved in that direction.
Crouched in the corner, he softly tried each locker. Two were open; the third was closed. Its lock was strong and of the most modern pattern. The light, flicking from the anteroom, was a signal that Doctor Dubrong had readjusted the turned-out bulb. The Shadow arose and crossed the consulting room. He could hear the physician carrying the chair to the waiting room.
THERE were two doors at the back of the consulting room. Cardona had gone through the one at left. The Shadow slipped to the one at the right. It opened into a large closet, where coats were hanging. The Shadow moved to the rear and remained there, his tall form hidden by the garments.
A few minutes later, Doctor Dubrong arrived. The physician took one of the coats, lifted a hat from a hook at the side of the closet, and closed the door. The dull slam of the other rear door announced his departure from his consulting room.
Shortly afterward, The Shadow reappeared. The removal of his heavy glasses showed a hawklike countenance that was dulled by puffy, masklike cheeks, which even the closest scrutiny would not have shown as artificial. He went back to the closed locker, but made no attempt now to pick its ponderous lock.