Hidden Death

Начало книги

RALPH WESTON, police commissioner, was seated at his desk. With one elbow on the broad, glass-topped surface, he rested his chin upon his hand and stared intently at Detective Joe Cardona.

It was the first meeting between the recently appointed police commissioner and the ace detective, who was recognized as the best sleuth in New York.

Beside the commissioner’s elbow rested a large stack of typewritten reports. He had been referring to these.

Now, with the detective actually present, Weston tapped the pile of papers as he spoke.

“I have been studying your records, Cardona,” he said. “I wish to commend you upon the capability which you have displayed. You have been a most important factor in the combat against crime.”

Cardona, swarthy and stern-visaged, showed no change of expression as he heard the compliment. Weston’s commendation pleased him, but the detective had a habit of maintaining his poker face under all circumstances.

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