Читать книгу The Mixer - Edgar Wallace - Страница 8

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That evening somebody walking across Chislehurst Common heard a groan, and found a very well-dressed man sitting behind a bush with a dazed expression. There were handcuffs on his hands, but nothing in his pockets. The distracted young man who had interviewed him in his office, the "detective" who had arrested him, and the taxi-driver—who, behind his goggles and temporary moustache, was that same distracted young man, otherwise, Anthony, The Mixer— who had driven him to this deserted part of the common, had seen to that.