Читать книгу The Black онлайн

91 страница из 105

"I think I will go now, Mahmet," he said, and at that moment the telephone bell rang sharply.

He took up the instrument, and a strange and excited voice called him by name.

"Is that Mr. Morlake?... I am speaking from Blackheath. Binger has been knocked down by a motor-bus and has been taken to 12 Cranfield Gardens. Can you come at once?"

"Is he badly hurt?" asked Morlake quickly.

"He is not expected to live," was the answer. "I am Dr. Grainger."

Jim only waited long enough to discover the exact location of Cranfield Gardens, and a few minutes later he was driving at full speed in the direction of Blackheath. The fog in the south of London was thicker than he had anticipated, and progress was slow, but it cleared at New Cross and presently disappeared altogether, and he looked up into an unclouded sky, in which the stars were twinkling frostily.

Lieber, watching the flat, saw the car depart, and, hastening to a public telephone booth, gave a number. It was Marborne who answered him.

"He's gone," said Lieber breathlessly. "Went away at five minutes past ten."