The Shadow Unmasks s-131 Page 12

  "Could you come out here, inspector, in the meantime?"

  Cardona decided that he could. He promised to start at once. As he left the office, Joe had a distinct idea that something was up. His hunch was that it involved Shark Meglo.

  Cardona made speed to Chanbury's. In the portrait room he found Chanbury in a dressing gown.

  Eleanor joined them. A servant had awakened her at Chanbury's order.

  Chanbury produced the statement, together with the labeled pass-key and the list of gems. Joe read the signed statement and sat dumfounded. He heard Chanbury say:

  "I suspected Henshew, the night that he was here. Since he mentioned gems, I asked him to bring some.

  It was a good opportunity to have Tyrune search Henshew's apartment!"

  "That's all right," assured Cardona. "But what can we prove against Henshew? It's a cinch he shoved the gems to Shark."

  "There must be a hiding place in the apartment. It might be behind the bookcase like the one you found elsewhere."

  "Henshew would call that a coincidence. It's too bad he got scared; we could only have seen the gems when he brought them here!"

  Chanbury added his regret over the lost opportunity. He told Cardona that the side spaces of the room hid a pair of old alcoves that were walled over.

  "They would be ideal to watch from," declared Chanbury. "But Henshew will never bring those jewels here again. I can tell you exactly why."

  CHANBURY produced the uncut diamonds in their chamois bag. He opened the top, let Joe see the contents.

  "Henshew valued these at half," explained Chanbury. "He wanted to take them for the gems. Today I called him, offering cash instead. He must have decided that I suspected he was crooked."

  "He must have been plenty scared," remarked Cardona. "You were giving him a chance to pick up cash, with the diamonds besides."

  "That's so!" exclaimed Chanbury. "Henshew should prefer cash. When Shark came, as at Silsam's, he could take jewels and diamonds both. It never occurred to me, Cardona. Wait!"

  Chanbury weighed the bag of gems. His blunt face showed a tight smile. His keen eyes narrowed. Slowly deliberately Chanbury stated:

  "Henshew will come here to tell me that his gems were really stolen. He thinks that I shall be completely bluffed when I read of Shark's fake raid. Henshew will have a purpose in his visit. One that will bring Shark Meglo, also."

  Holding his left palm upward, Chanbury poured the uncut diamonds with his right hand. Like shimmering nuggets, the rough stones formed a pile that supported Chanbury's theory.

  "Henshew wants these," affirmed Chanbury. "He will risk nothing, being here when Shark attacks. Shark, having attacked Henshew once - so far as the law supposes - would be likely to trail wherever Henshew goes."

  Cardona looked grimly at the side walls. He saw how this room could be turned into a perfect snare to bag both Henshew and Shark. With an approving look at Chanbury, Joe decided:

  "We can spring it. You have the nerve that's needed, Mr. Chanbury. If you handle Henshew right, he'll talk too much, thinking you're here alone. Wait while I call Commissioner Weston."

  Before Cardona could pick up the telephone, its bell rang. Chanbury answered, remarking to Joe:

  "Tyrune probably." Instead, the call was one from headquarters. Joe took it. His face was serious when he replaced the telephone.

  "They've found out where Tyrune lives," informed Cardona, "but he isn't there. You don't think he'd have been fool enough to go to Henshew's?"

  "I don't know." Chanbury's tone was doubtful. He turned about. "What would you say, Eleanor?"

  "If he had intended to go there," replied the girl, "he would have asked for the pass-key."

  The argument was a sound one. It brought an admiring look from Cardona. He decided to have Eleanor here with Chanbury, when Henshew came tomorrow night. The girl had sense; and her presence would lull the crook. For the present, though, Tyrune was the question.

  "We'd better run over to Jim's," said Cardona. "He'll be there by the time we are. We'll take him down to the commissioner's."

  CARDONA pocketed the statement and the exhibits. Chanbury went upstairs to dress. He met Cardona at the front door; Joe said that he had called Weston's, but the commissioner was out. Cardona had left word where they would be.

  They rode into Manhattan in one of Chanbury's large cars, with a chauffeur at the wheel. They found Tyrune's boarding house on an obscure street. It look a long while to arouse the irate landlady. Her indignation only increased when she saw Cardona's badge.

  "Why should the likes of you be rousing up innocent people?" she inquired. "First, it's the telephone. Then you come here, disbelieving me when I tell you Mr. Tyrune ain't come home. Go up to his room and see for yourselves!"

  Tyrune's door was locked. Cardona handled it with a skeleton key. The room was empty; the bed made up.

  "Hasn't been here," said Cardona to Chanbury. Then, to the landlady: "Where's the telephone?"

  "In the back hall, downstairs. A pay phone."

  Cardona found the telephone in back of the stairs. In the dark, he missed the slot and his nickel fell to the floor. While Chanbury was out in the light, looking for change, Joe used a flashlight to find the coin. He was in a hurry to make a call to headquarters, on the chance that Tyrune had telephoned there.

  Joe saw something dark at the edge of a closet door. It was too large for a coin. He fixed the flashlight on the spot. The stain was wet and ruddy. Cardona grabbed Chanbury's arm:

  "Look!"

  Chanbury saw the spot. His coins jingled as he dropped them mechanically in his pocket. Cardona pulled open the closed door. Out tumbled a body that seemed to uncoil as it sprawled face upward in the light.

  "Jim Tyrune! Dead!"

  Cardona was right. The dick was shot through the temple; and the gun that had killed him lay beside the body.

  Telling Chanbury to stay where he was and ward off the landlady, Cardona went back through the dark hall. He found a flimsy back door; it was locked, but it had no key. That door could be opened easily with a skeleton.

  THIRTY minutes later, a conference was under way in Tyrune's bedroom. Commissioner Weston had arrived; he was talking things over with Cardona and Chanbury. On a table lay one more clue to go with the gun that had lain beside Tyrune's body. The new evidence was a slitted bandanna handkerchief.

  "Shark Meglo always wore one of these," declared Cardona, lifting the bandanna. "He must have used it when he sneaked in here to lay for Tyrune. Henshew saw Jim down at the apartment, and was leery of the way he slid out so soon. The fox shot word to Shark."

  Joe picked up the gun.

  "No prints," he said. "Shark wiped them off with the bandanna. He's a killer, but he's clumsy. He wanted to make it look like suicide, but he was dumb enough to stow that bandanna in the ash can, out back."

  Weston shook his head.

  "I guess this spoils our surprise for Henshew," declared the commissioner. "Henshew will back out, when he reads how boldly Shark murdered Tyrune."

  Weston was rising. Chanbury stopped him. The grizzled art collector showed a look of inspiration.

  "Why not call it suicide?" questioned Chanbury. "Shark was smart enough to think he managed to deceive us. Henshew will believe that Shark actually did handle it cleverly."

  "Great!" approved Cardona. "The best idea yet! What do you say, commissioner?"

  "Very, very good," approved Weston. He thrust out his hand. "Congratulations Chanbury! Your foresight assures me that tomorrow's plan will work to perfection. Just one thing" - Weston turned to Cardona:

  "You must see to it that Burke does not learn about it. He is downstairs."

  CLYDE was in the lower hall, when Weston and Chanbury went through. Before Clyde could follow, Cardona stopped him. Joe led the reporter back to the rear hall, where Tyrune's body still lay. Joe gave a thumb jerk as he shook his head.

  "A suicide," said Cardona, sorrowfully. "Too bad! Poor Jim was a good guy. Just thought he
was a failure because he flopped on that jewel robbery investigation."

  "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 Classic. 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 dick, it seemed, had taken the man hunt as his own crusade, ever since Shark's murder of Silsam. Jim's failure to anticipate 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 had visited 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 bumped 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 passengers 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. She went 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 pass-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 spaces?"

  "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 roo
m."

  Allard had a few more questions. When he had finished, he smiled. Glancing at his watch, he remarked to Clyde:

  "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 identity 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 friendship. 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.