Murder Marsh

Начало книги

TRAFFIC was light on the East Side elevated. When the three-car local stopped at a dimly lighted station, a lone passenger stepped to the warped boards of the platform. The train rumbled away while the man was shuffling slowly toward the turnstile exit.

The night was warm, yet the passenger wore an overcoat, with collar turned up around his neck. He peered suspiciously back and forth as he shambled toward the steps that led to the street. He pulled the front of his grimy hat farther down upon his forehead.

Though the evening was young, this suspicious man encountered few passers as he reached the street.

The thoroughfare beneath the elevated was almost deserted. It gloom, its cracked, dirty paving, the heavy pillars of the elevated structure — all had the effect of thinning traffic in the street.

As for pedestrians, they could find but little of interest in the dilapidated, poorly lighted stores that lined the sides of this forgotten street. A good spot for a holdup, it lured only those who might have been in the game themselves. Shambling figures, who paused to lurk by blackened building fronts, were the only ones that the man from the elevated spied.

Читать дальше →