Читать книгу The Black онлайн

64 страница из 105

Sergeant Barney Slone winced, for he had tastes which would make living on a pension a painful proceeding.

"There is one chance, and only one, and I'm going to take it," said the inspector. "I hate depending upon men like Lieber and Colley, but they are our long suits. Bring them up to my apartment for a bit of dinner to-night."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get The Black," said Inspector Marborne, and his subordinate stopped in his walk and stared at him.

"Get him—how?" he asked incredulously.

But the inspector was not prepared to explain.

"I know him—at least, I think I know him—if I don't, a friend of mine does. It will be the biggest thing I've ever done, Barney."

For more than five years The Black, so called because he wore clothing of funereal hue, had been the bugbear of London. No strong room was invulnerable to the attack of this skilful and single-handed burglar. Banks and safe deposits had been the sole objects of his attention—a fact which had added considerably to the difficulties of the police.