The Shadow - The Shadow Unmasks Part 12

"What about the note he left?" queried Clyde. "I suppose you found one up in his room?"

"No. There wasn't any note. Jim just said he felt like ending it all. He told it to Mr. Chanbury."

"Can I use Chanbury's name in the story?"

"Sure! Go ahead."

Cardona smiled as he turned away.

That was a neat touch - getting Chanbury mentioned. It would be just the sort of stuff for Henshew to read in the newspapers. Strolling out the door, Cardona was highly pleased with the way he had handled Clyde.

Joe was sure that Clyde had not seen the smile; and in that, Cardona was right. What Clyde did see was the corner of a blue bandanna handkerchief poking out of Cardona's coat pocket.

When Clyde called Burbank, he mentioned that detail. But he did not include it in the story that he wrote for the Cla.s.sic. The fact that Cardona had gone in for blue bandannas was an exclusive piece of information, intended only for The Shadow.

CHAPTER XXI. MOVES AT DUSK.

THE thwarted robbery at Henshew's made big news the next morning, for it involved Shark Meglo, Manhattan's chief public enemy. The newspapers had it all wrong, thanks to the excitement of the persons who had hunted Shark.

It was Shark who had staged the running fight through the apartment house; that, at least, was the opinion of those present. The proof lay in the fact that after the roving battler had disappeared on the second floor, Shark made his break through the lobby. He was credited with doubling his trail, to make a bold escape.

Henshew had prompted that theory, by giving the coolest testimony of any. He swore that he had seen Shark shoving a man ahead of him, to make a pretense of surrender; that both had entered the fray afterward.

Henshew's shout, as he described it, was: "Get the man in back!" and the story was so good that other witnesses supported it.

Evening newspapers played second fiddle to the morning sheets by reporting the tragic aftermath of Shark's raid. They had a good human-interest story in the suicide of Jim Tyrune.

The private d.i.c.k, it seemed, had taken the man hunt as his own crusade, ever since Shark's murder of Silsam. Jim's failure to antic.i.p.ate Shark's latest raid had caused the private detective to consider life no longer worth while.

Henshew digested that chunk of news along with his lunch. He was most pleased to learn that Tyrune hadvisited Chanbury, to voice his morbid sentiments. Henshew remembered Jim at the apartment; the fellow had certainly looked gloomy.

At the office, Henshew found that Chanbury had telephoned. He called the art collector, and heard Chanbury's sad comments on the Tyrune tragedy. Changing the subject, Chanbury asked if Henshew could call at nine that evening. The jewel broker agreed.

Chanbury mentioned that he was dining with the police commissioner, to give a word-for-word statement of Tyrune's glum talk; but he would be home by nine.

Hanging up, Henshew had a definite hunch that Shark had b.u.mped Jim Tyrune. Shark had picked the right man at the right time and place.

Deciding not to return to his apartment after work, Henshew used the privacy of his office to engrave a microscopic message on a coin to Shark. It read: Chanbury. Side door. 9:30 unless - Shark would know what "unless" meant.

LATER that afternoon, Clyde Burke called Chanbury's. Eleanor answered; since Chanbury was present, she said very little, except to inform the reporter that Chanbury was dining with Weston at the Cobalt Club and intended to be there by five o'clock. She added - at her employer's suggestion - that the dinner was to be private.

When Clyde called the house at five, he learned that Chanbury had left for town and had taken his secretary with him. That apparently blocked Clyde's chance for a talk with Eleanor. Clyde, however, was to have his opportunity later, under the best of auspices.

At quarter of six, Chanbury told Eleanor that she could go back to the Long Island mansion, and have her dinner there. He instructed his chauffeur, Klander to take Miss Merwood straight to the house; and added that no one was to know she had returned. Servants were still to answer calls.

The big car hadn't gone two blocks before a rear tire flattened. As Klander stepped out to look over the tire, a taxi wheeled up. The driver pointed out a convenient garage and suggested that the chauffeur have the mechanics change the tire. He also suggested that the lady travel by cab.

Since Eleanor was due on Long Island, Klander agreed.

Clouded skies had brought an early dusk; Eleanor could scarcely see the interior of the cab when she entered it. She was amazed, almost terrified, when the cab swung a corner; for a light showed that she was not alone.

On each side of her were solemn-faced pa.s.sengers who looked like grotesque statues. The taxi driver must have heard Eleanor's gasp, for he thrust his head into view and spoke: "It's all right, lady! Just a couple of Indians. A friend of yours sent 'em for a gag."

The cab was Moe's; its occupants, the Xincas who had come from Guatemala with Kent Allard. The presence of the stolid, silent Indians evoked Eleanor's wonderment and seemed to make objection impossible. Eleanor might have insisted on leaving the cab, had she not been in awe of those stony-faced sentinels.

Moe drove to Allard's hotel. He opened the cab door and Eleanor alighted with the two Xincas. Shewent into the hotel between them and they entered an elevator. The adventure was so uncanny that the girl decided to see its finish, particularly since no one in the hotel seemed surprised to see the Indians.

They reached Allard's apartment; there, Eleanor gave a happy exclamation when she saw Clyde awaiting here.

"So it was you!" she exclaimed. "But I'm not supposed to see you, Mr. Burke!"

"You're not seeing me," inserted Clyde. "You're meeting Kent Allard, the famous explorer! A friend of mine."

CLYDE introduced Eleanor to Allard and the girl was immediately impressed by the famous personage.

What Clyde did not explain was that he had arranged this visit at The Shadow's order.

Clyde had told Allard that he wanted to see Eleanor and had asked if the meeting could be here. The explorer had agreed; and had suggested sending the Xincas in a cab. Clyde thought that a grand idea, for Moe's cab was outside.

In a way, The Shadow had tried the plan as a test. He wanted to note if Clyde connected him, in any way, with The Shadow. Such a link had obviously not occurred to the reporter. Nor was it to strike Clyde later, despite the amazing thing that occurred.

Speaking for Clyde, Allard remarked that the reporter wanted some facts on the Tyrune suicide, which Clyde had mentioned. Before Clyde realized it, Eleanor's reluctance had gone. She was telling Allard everything she knew. Meeting the compelling gaze of these clear, steady eyes, the girl felt that she was talking to a friend.

Clyde listened, dumfounded, drinking in the whole story of tonight's plan. When Eleanor had finished, Allard asked questions; the girl answered.

She told how Chanbury had retired early, to be awakened by Tyrune's arrival. She repeated the signed statement, word for word; and described the detailed list that she had copied, to the exact number of jewels mentioned.

She told of the pa.s.s-key that Cardona had received along with the statement and the list. She added details of the discussion concerning a probable hiding place behind Henshew's bookcase.

Her final sentences concerned the plans for tonight.

"Henshew will arrive at nine," declared the girl. "I am to be there with Mr. Chanbury. The police will be waiting in the alcoves, looking through the side portraits."

"How large are the s.p.a.ces?"

"Large enough to hold three persons each, so Mr. Chanbury says."

"You have never seen them?"

"No. They were permanently closed; but the servants are fitting hinges on them this afternoon."

"When will the detectives arrive?"

"Before eight o'clock. With Inspector Cardona in charge. They will stay in the portrait room."

Allard had a few more questions. When he had finished, he smiled. Glancing at his watch, he remarked toClyde: "Miss Merwood has been here twelve minutes. Perhaps she should be leaving for Long Island."

TWELVE minutes! In that time, Eleanor had related details that should ordinarily have taken half an hour.

Clyde was half dazed as he rode down in the elevator to see Eleanor off in Moe's cab. He remembered one important detail, and stopped in the lobby to mention it.

"You may meet someone tonight," said Clyde, in an undertone, "who will help matters a great deal. I can't tell you any more, except that he is a remarkable person -"

"More remarkable than Mr. Allard?"

"Yes." Clyde spoke without hesitation. "That may be a tall order, but it's so. He's called The Shadow, and I have an idea that he is in this case. Whatever he says, do it."

Eleanor smiled. She could not doubt that she would follow any orders that came from a person so unusual as Kent Allard. What she did doubt was that she could possibly meet any one else so remarkable.

Her disbelief ended five minutes after she was in Moe's cab.

A voice spoke from the darkness beside her. Eleanor turned to meet the gaze of piercing eyes. They burned, those eyes, like living coals; but Eleanor felt no fear. She heard the sibilant whisper of a voice that carried weird authority. The final words held conclusive importance: "Be ready at half past seven! Signal at the side door when the way to the portrait room is clear!"

What was the ident.i.ty of this stranger, who - as Clyde had said - was more remarkable than Allard?

Allard's eyes, thought Eleanor, were the sort that brought a sense of trust and friends.h.i.+p. But these burning eyes, the only token of an otherwise invisible being, carried even more.

They made her trust the stranger, as she had trusted Allard; but she could sense that those eyes would prove terrible to any person who defied this unseen being.

The ride to Long Island was finished in a breath-taking period, for the cab driver had the speed of a jehu.

As they wheeled into the lights of the portico that covered Chanbury's driveway, Eleanor settled back, glad that the trip was over. She had hardly gathered her breath before she thought of the stranger beside her.

She looked. He was gone!

COMPLETE darkness shrouded that Long Island mansion, during the next hour. Cloaked by the blackness, The Shadow moved about the outside walls. His tiny flashlight showed him the extensions that had once been the alcoves of Chanbury's low-set portrait room.

He moved from one side of the house to the other, past a sloping roof at the back. His inspection completed, The Shadow reached the side door.

He was there at half past seven. Five minutes pa.s.sed before Eleanor stopped in the inner hallway, to indicate that the way was clear. The Shadow entered; thanks to the swift silence of his glide, he was at the marble stairs before one of Chanbury's servants came along. The hired help was keeping close vigilinside the house, until the detectives arrived.

Eleanor was in the portrait room. She had gone there because she could not linger in the hallway. The girl was about to leave, when she saw the door move inward. Fascinated, she watched a streak of blackness form a silhouette along the floor.

A moment later, a cloaked figure had entered. For the first time, Eleanor saw the full outline of The Shadow. The slouch hat hid his face; but the darkness that it cast was like a background for the burning eyes that Eleanor had viewed before.

The Shadow approached. His lips spoke in their steady whisper. The words that Eleanor heard held her breathless. The Shadow had expected to find her in this room, he had reserved final statements until this meeting. What Eleanor heard left her in total amazement. Only the touch of cold steel in her hand awakened her.

The Shadow had given Eleanor a loaded automatic of small caliber. His words told that the gun would be needed.

"You have heard -"

Eleanor nodded at that final statement. Firmly, the girl said: "I understand. I believe you. I shall be ready."

Leaving the portrait room, Eleanor put the gun in a pocket of her dress. She did not return to that lower room until eight o'clock, when Cardona arrived with the headquarters men. Eleanor was a bit qualmish, for the servants had been on constant duty. No one could have left the portrait room.

Yet the room was empty; so were the side alcoves when Cardona and his men inspected them. The Shadow was gone. Where he had gone and how, Eleanor could not imagine. She knew, though, that The Shadow would return after Henshew and Shark had both arrived.

The scene was set for trapping men of crime.

CHAPTER XXII. THE TRAP SPRINGS.

NINE o'clock found Chanbury and Eleanor in the portrait room, seated placidly among the painted faces that stared from every wall. A servant arrived to announce Henshew. Chanbury took advantage of the last minute to rea.s.sure Eleanor.

"Remember," he said, in a tone of highest compliment, "I am relying on your bravery to help snare Henshew. I shall keep you here as long as possible to make the fellow show his hand.

"If it proves impossible, you can leave. In that case, go directly to the second floor, where all the servants are. They will look out for you, Eleanor."

The girl was busy at the typewriter when Henshew arrived. The machine was a noiseless one but the jewel broker noticed Eleanor. For a moment, he appeared annoyed; then his expression became a smiling one.

Henshew liked the set-up. Only one servant was on duty, a sleepy fellow who had come from the second floor to answer the doorbell. With Eleanor present, it seemed certain that Chanbury could expect no trouble. "Too bad about Tyrune," expressed Henshew. "The chap looked bad when I saw him last night. He stopped at my apartment, you know, right after Meglo attempted his robbery."

"Tell me about the attack," suggested Chanbury. "Didn't you lose anything of value?"

"A few items." Henshew's tone had a significance that Chanbury could take any way he liked. "Nothing, though, that I felt necessary to mention to the police."

"Then the jewels -"

Henshew gave a warning shrug; looked toward Eleanor, who was still busy at the typewriter. Chanbury smiled and nodded.

"I forgot," remarked Chanbury. "You told me that you keep all valuable gems at your office."

"Yes." Henshew reached into his pocket. "I brought along a few special items that may interest you."

THE jewels that Henshew displayed upon the desk were new ones; a topaz setting that he p.r.o.nounced as something of rare value, some amethysts that were fine specimens, but not uncommon.

Examining the gems, Chanbury guessed that Henshew was stalling for time. He tested the jeweler.

"I have never seen these before," said Chanbury.

"Quite naturally," returned Henshew, smoothly. "You have never been to my office to inspect my gems. I do not make a practice of taking stones elsewhere. Except in a few instances; then I never carry many."

The present case supported Henshew's statement. The gems that he had with him were worth a few thousand dollars at best.

"I expect a call from the office," added Henshew, eyeing Chanbury cannily. "They will keep open late, if I say the word. Perhaps you would like to go there tonight."

"Tomorrow would be better -"