Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 249 by Maxwel l Grant

Author:Maxwel,l Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

CHAPTER XII. LURK OF DEATH

TREVOSE'S dapper servant unlocked the door of his apartment and closed it behind him with a satisfied smile. He looked along the hallway to the study, then stared, much perturbed, when the door opened and Laird Trevose appeared. The lawyer spoke, in a dry, crisp tone:

"I was listening for you, Rolfe. Why did you go out?"

"Why... why -" Rolfe halted his stammer. "I only stepped out for a few minutes, sir. You see -"

"I see!" Trevose gave testy interruption. "I was out, and I didn't want to see anyone. So you felt you were privileged to call on some of your friends among the servants in the apartment house. I expected you to be here, Rolfe!"

The servant nodded, rather weakly. This wasn't the first time that Trevose had called him to task for his one failing—that of leaving the apartment without permission. This time, Rolfe feared that his job was at stake, particularly when Trevose added:

"The telephone was ringing. I heard it outside; but I was too late to answer it. I am particular about such things, Rolfe."

As if in response to Trevose's statement, the phone began to tinkle again. The servant hurried over to answer it, but Trevose waved him back.

"Never mind," said the lawyer. "It may be the same person who called before. I should prefer to have him think that I am out, rather than know that I have just come in. I shall notify you when to answer any calls."

Trevose picked up a book of chess problems, opened it to the one he wanted, and returned stiffly to the study. He closed the door, and Rolfe heard him throw the bolt, as was usual when Trevose busied himself with chess problems. When Trevose didn't bolt the door, it generally meant that he expected visitors.

Again, the telephone began its jangle. Rolfe hesitated, and finally went down the hall, intending to knock at the door in case Trevose did not hear the bell.

Outside the door, Rolfe paused. He heard the click of chessmen on a board; then a long, steady sigh, the sort that Trevose often gave when settling down to his favorite work. The servant decided that it wouldn't be good policy to disturb Trevose for the present.

Five minutes must have passed before Rolfe heard a knock at the door of the apartment. Remembering the admonition regarding visitors, Rolfe began to speak as he opened the door.

"Very sorry," said the servant, "but Mr. Trevose is not seeing visitors -"

There, the servant halted, frozen. Rolfe wasn't exactly seeing visitors himself. For the shape that filled the doorway loomed like nothing earthly. Certainly, it wasn't one of Trevose's so-called friends; for neither Philmont nor Harlingen could have masqueraded in this outlandish fashion.

Rolfe saw an intruder clad entirely in black. His head was topped by a slouch hat; his shoulders wore a flowing cloak, with sleeves that gave a nebulous effect, as the figure swished Rolfe's way. So fantastic was the sight, that Rolfe was gripped by the illusion that he could see right through the visitor.

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