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mg.cityofcrime-第8部分

小说: mg.cityofcrime 字数: 每页4000字

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the residence of Stephen Ruthley; the wealthiest man in Westford。
 Ruthley called the apartment his town home; and he considered an entire floor necessary for fort; although his family seldom occupied the apartment with him。 They preferred a country house; some miles from Westford。 They lived there during the short intervals when they came home from Newport; Florida; or Europe。
 Hence; Stephen Ruthley lived alone; except for a retinue of servants; and he liked this second floor apartment near the heart of Westford。
 Recognized as the city's most prominent citizen; Ruthley enjoyed his prestige。 He gained acclaim for his philanthropies and his constant stand for reform。 His real pleasure; however; lay in the fact that never a whisper had passed concerning his actual capacity。 None but his most trusted lieutenants knew that Stephen Ruthley was the real political boss of Westford。
 Beginning with half a million dollars gained from honest enterprise; Ruthley had increased his fortune to ten times that amount by backing graft and crime。 He had covered this procedure by expanding his legitimate businesses and making them look prosperous; though they cost him more than he gained。 Ruthley considered this essential。 As overlord of Westford; he maintained his security by keeping his real activities unknown。
 There were two reasons why none of Ruthley's associates had ever dared to expose his game。 First; because no one would have believed them; second because they were in too deep。 Ruthley took care of his tools; saw to it that they gained their share of the spoils。 That kept them satisfied; and maintained their loyalty to their evil chief。
 
 
 ON this night; soon after The Shadow had rescued Estelle Benbrook; Stephen Ruthley had a visitor。 The caller was a stuffed…shirt henchman; who was at present Ruthley's most useful figurehead。 He was Elvin Marclot; mayor of Westford; whom Ruthley had carried into office on a sweeping wave of so…called reform。
 The pair were seated in Ruthley's den; a room that had windows only at the front; for it was the side of the apartment that was buttressed by the side wall of the first house in the row。
 Ruthley's den was a cross between an office and a clubroom。 It had a desk in the corner; along with a filing cabinet。 Except for those articles of office equipment; it was furnished with deep…cushioned chairs and couches; thick rugs; ornate tables。
 The side wall showed a pair of large bookcases; set apart; between them was a huge; life…sized painting that depicted Aramis; of the 〃Three Musketeers。〃 The bottom of the full…length picture was less than two feet from the floor; the heavy mahogany frame was flush against the wall。
 Ruthley was seated in an armchair; smoking an expensive cigar。 Marclot was opposite him; watching him。 In appearance; as well as manner; the two formed an absolute contrast。
 Stephen Ruthley was elderly; yet active。 His face was calm; pleasant; almost fatherly。 His eyes; though searching; carried a twinkle; his gray hair added to his genial look。 All this was a mask that Ruthley had worn for years; he seldom dropped it; even when he had no need for pretense。 In fact; Ruthley prided himself upon the fact that when his temper rose; he could play his friendly; reassuring part to real perfection。
 Elvin Marclot was portly; pompous and round…faced; serious of expression; he was ever ready to draw himself up and blubber in righteous indignation。 He used that method to cover his crooked nature; it worked well in public; but it was useless in Ruthley's presence。 The boss always had the mayor at a disadvantage; for Ruthley's calmness seemed natural; while Marclot's self…importance did not。
 Tonight; if Ruthley chanced to be nervous; he did not show it。 Marclot; however; was jittery; and could not cover the fact。 He had already reported important news; all that he could do was repeat it。
 〃They've finished Dunson by this time; Steve;〃 insisted Marclot; in a tone that was almost a whine。 〃Kirk Borman called me; like I told you。 I thought I'd better be here when the news came…〃
 
 
 THE telephone bell rang。 Marclot trembled as he reached for the telephone; which was on a mahogany table near the door。 Ruthley stopped him。
 〃Let Haija answer it;〃 ordered Ruthley。 〃He always does。〃
 Marclot sank back in his chair; A Japanese house…man entered; picked up the telephone and spoke in mechanical fashion。 He turned about and held the instrument toward Marclot; with the statement:
 〃Call for Honorable Mr。 Mayor。〃
 Marclot took the telephone shakily; gulped as he spoke。 Ruthley listened intently to the conversation。
 〃Yes。。。〃 Marclot; always a faker; pretended to be astonished。 〃What is that; director? A murder?。。。 Not our friend Prescott Dunson?。。。 This is terrible! Terrible!。。。 Yes。 It would be wise for you to e here at once。。。〃
 Haija took the telephone as soon as Marclot hung up。 The Japanese replaced the instrument on the table and stalked from the room。 Marclot spoke to Ruthley in a trembling tone。
 〃They got Dunson!〃 the mayor quivered。 〃Borman's on his way here。〃
 〃How soon will that be?〃
 〃He said within five minutes。〃
 Ruthley and Marclot dropped their conversation。 Just as Ruthley flicked another length of ashes from his cigar; Haija entered to announce that the police director had arrived。 Kirk Borman was ushered into the den。 As soon as Haija was gone; the sharp…faced police director talked business。
 〃They chopped down Dunson in front of Judge Benbrook's house;〃 stated Borman。 〃But there was a lot of fireworks afterward。 Some sharpshooter began to pick off the men in Lance's cars; just like last night。〃
 〃Interesting;〃 remarked Ruthley。 He puffed at his cigar; then reached for a box and offered a smoke to Borman。 Then he asked: 〃Did the Flying Squadron take care of the troublemaker?〃
 〃They arrived too late to get him;〃 returned Borman; in a rueful tone。
 〃They had to fake a chase after the thugs; and it was tough to bluff it; for they were crippled pretty bad; the thugs were。 I thought the whole game was going to be a cinch when Dunson was reported in that trolley; but it wasn't。
 〃Anyway; Dunson is done for。 The Flying Squadron took his body over to the morgue。 I saw him laid out there; and I found out something that's worth knowing。 Wait until I show you the letter that was on Dunson's body。〃
 Borman began to fumble in his pockets。 Marclot took advantage of the lull。
 〃This will make trouble;〃 insisted the mayor。 〃Maybe not for us; but suppose that public indignation seeks out Lance Gillick? He is one of us。 We have to protect him。〃
 〃We shall;〃 stated。 Ruthley; with a smile。 〃Quite easily。〃
 〃But how can we laugh off Dunson's charges?〃 continued Marclot。 〃He claimed that he could prove corruption in Westford。〃
 〃I shall handle the matter;〃 returned Ruthley; still smiling。 〃Quite easily; Marclot。〃
 Borman had found the letter。 The police director was opening it。 The paper was reddened at one corner; that stain had e from Prescott Dunson's blood。
 The fact did not annoy Borman; he was too anxious to divulge the contents of the letter。
 〃This was from a man named Shaw;〃 he began。 〃Evidently the fellow had written to Dunson before…〃
 〃Wait!〃
 
 
 STEPHEN Ruthley had heard a slight sound that came from behind the panting on the wall。 He arose; went to the picture and pressed a hidden catch in the side of the frame。 He swung the picture inward; in doorlike fashion。
 Two men stepped over the sill; to join the conference in Ruthley's den。
 The foremost was Lance Gillick; sleek in his evening attire。 The big…shot gambler indulged in one of his suave smiles。 He stepped aside to let his panion enter。 The other man was short and squatty; his leering face showed crossed scars on its left cheek。 The man looked like a murderer; and he was。
 Lance's panion was 〃Beezer〃 Dorsch; the mobleader who was supposed to be at odds with the sleek gambler。 As Lance had mentioned to Borman the night before; the two were actually in league。 Because of that; Lance had brought Beezer to this conference。
 The ring of crime…makers was plete。 Stephen Ruthley; king of villainy; sat smiling as he viewed the faces of his four lieutenan

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