The Ribbon Clues

Начало книги

MURKINESS lay thick above the river piers. Blanketing night, accompanied by a gathering fog, had lowered a pall upon this portion of Manhattan. The lights of passing ships gleamed halolike from blackened waters, while the still, chilled air quivered with the husky blares of steamboat whistles.

Two men were standing at the entrance of a decrepit pier. Overcoats muffled about their throats, they were watching the grimy hulk of an old freighter as chugging tugboats warped the ship in beside the dock.

The two men, themselves, were well obscured by darkness. They were close beside stacked boxes that had been unloaded from a truck. They considered themselves unseen; were positive that they remained unheard.

“Watch for the gangplank, Markham,” spoke one, a stocky individual, whose growled voice sounded like an echo from a deep-throated river whistle. “When it lowers, we move on.”

“We’re going aboard?” queried Markham.

Читать дальше →