The Shadow Unmasks s-131

by Maxwell Grant

  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 passed 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 vigil inside 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 reassure 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 pronounced 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 -"

  The telephone interrupted Chanbury. He reached for it; heard a high voice inquire for Mr. Henshew.

  Chanbury passed over the telephone. Henshew spoke his name; the voice inquired:

  "Are you coming back to the office, Mr. Henshew?"

  "Back to the office?" repeated Henshew. "No, not tonight. If you want me again, I shall be here for a while."

  That call was from Shark, another fact that Chanbury had guessed. The art collector listened indulgently while Henshew discussed the merits of the topaz settings. Each passing minute showed a tightness of Henshew's tone, until the visitor noted that Chanbury's desk clock had reached half past nine.

  Leaning across the desk, Henshew stated in a tone loud enough for Eleanor to hear:

  "Regarding those uncut diamonds, Chanbury. I should like to see them again. I feel that I may have underpriced them."

  Chanbury produced the chamois bag. Henshew examined the diamonds as he spread them on the desk.

  "Worth much more," he declared. "I might be prepared to pay you four hundred thousand dollars for them."

  "But what about your gems?" queried Chanbury. "I still want to buy them."

  Henshew made no further attempt to stall.

  "Those jewels were stolen," he declared. "It is all right for you to know it, Chanbury, but it would ruin my business if people learned that I had been foolish enough to keep them in my apartment. They are gone!"

  "All of them?" Chanbury whipped out his penciled list. "All these that I jotted down from memory?"

  Henshew's eyes stared at the list. For a few seconds his lips showed an ugliness that he usually concealed. Changing his manner, Henshew passed back the list and acknowledged:

  "They were stolen, all of them. By Shark Meglo."

  "I thought so!" Chanbury came to his feet. "Henshew, that is just what I wanted to hear you say. I have a witness - Miss Merwood - who has heard everything you stated. You have told so much that you can afford to tell more. I know, at last, that those jewels were the ones that belonged to Hugo Silsam!"

  HENSHEW had risen also. He was stepping toward the door; but he was not disconcerted. Instead, he delivered a harsh laugh which ended with the chortled comment:

  "I have a witness, also! One who can speak for himself. Shark Meglo!"

  Henshew hauled the door open. On the threshold stood Shark, a trio of trigger-men behind him. Those three men were the only thugs that Shark had been able to muster; but Shark's contemptuous look showed that he thought he had all the men he needed.

  Entering, Shark covered Chanbury with a big revolver, and nudged to a follower, who swung a gun toward Eleanor.

  "Take it easy, Shark," suggested Henshew. "The way it's going, I might as well leave first
. I can talk to the servant when I go out. Hold the fireworks until I've gained a head start."

  "Sure!" agreed Shark. "Go build your alibi. We'll fix the flunky afterwards. There was nobody around when we came through, so why leave anybody that might squawk?"

  With a narrow look at Chanbury, Shark stepped closer to the desk and picked up the uncut diamonds, to pass them to Henshew.

  "You handle these," suggested the killer. "Nobody will know the dif. Keep 'em in your safe-deposit vault, along with the dough. I'll lam tonight; you can ship me my cut later -"

  In turning toward Henshew, Shark let his gun swing slightly away from Chanbury. The thug who was covering Eleanor was telling a pal that the girl was a swell-looking dame, but that he didn't mind croaking a moll. No time could be better for the law's thrust. It came.

  Side panels hoisted wide. Guns roared as Cardona and his men played a set policy of no quarter to the known murderer, Shark Meglo. Before Shark could even squeeze his trigger, he was loaded with lead from four guns.

  Two other police revolvers took care of the rogue who covered Eleanor. Shark and the thug hit the floor together.

  Motioning his hands downward, Chanbury dropped behind the desk. Eleanor was behind the typewriter table before Chanbury waved. Shark's last pair of gunners had their revolvers up, to shoot it out with the law.

  They didn't have a chance. Quick bullets sprawled them; detectives snatched up the dropped guns before the wounded crooks could squirm to regain them.

  Cardona had Henshew by the neck. The gem schemer was groping for his pocket, but his hands went limp as Joe choked him. Self-confessed brain in the jewel-murder game, Henshew was a prize that Cardona wanted to take alive. Henshew subsided; from a master-crook, he had become a cowering prisoner.

  Clamping bracelets on him, Joe flung Henshew into a chair so hard that the handcuffs rattled.

  "That cleans things up," announced Cardona, as detectives looked to the wounded men. "Shark did his last dirty job, when he murdered Tyrune. A good guy - Jim! He helped us, even after he was gone. But you staged the real show-down, Mr. Chanbury."

  As Joe gripped Chanbury's hand, the grizzled man smiled and said:

  "Don't forget Miss Merwood."

  "I won't." Joe shook hands with Eleanor. "You were game, Miss Merwood. I'll bet if the same thing happened again, you'd be just as cool as ever -"

  CARDONA'S praise was halted by a peal of muffled mirth, that presaged the very event of which Joe spoke. The chilling laugh loudened, as a clatter occurred at the back of the room. Past Chanbury, Cardona saw an appearing shape in black.

  The Shadow was stepping from a third alcove, in the very center of the rear wall - one that had a swinging panel, on concealed hinges. Henshew, gaping from his chair, quailed at sight of the ominous avenger. Chanbury, wheeling, stared frozen.

  Of all who saw The Shadow, one alone expected his arrival. That was Eleanor Merwood. Her happy gasp told that, to her, The Shadow's return was the needed climax in the exposure of hidden crime.

  CHAPTER XXIII. DEAD FACES

  THE SHADOW stood with folded arms as he faced the group before him. He had left past work to others; he could rely upon new cooperation when he required it. In whispered tone, he reminded Joe Cardona:

  "You have forgotten something most important. The stolen jewels!"

  It dawned on Joe that Shark had spoken of the uncut diamonds and cash in Henshew's possession, but no word of the gems that had been used in the round of murders. Cardona supposed that they would be found in Shark's hide-out; but there was one person present who held a different opinion.

  As The Shadow faced the center of the room, his burning eyes had an effect like those of certain portraits on the walls. They seemed to bore toward every one who viewed them. Henshew felt that the stare was meant for him. Hoarsely, the captured crook exclaimed:

  "You have them! You took them from my apartment! That was why you waited there -"

  The Shadow's words cut Henshew short. In steady monotone, the cloaked avenger, disputed Henshew's belief.

  "I waited," declared The Shadow, "because the gems were gone. Some one had rifled that hiding place, to take the jewels elsewhere."

  The Shadow stepped aside. Within the space where he had been, others saw the door of a built-in vault, set deep. Eleanor gazed, amazed. She had never known that Chanbury possessed that secret strong room, behind a locked panel.

  Eleanor had never studied the outside wall as The Shadow had done tonight. He had found a projection in addition to those that housed the side alcoves.

  The sweep of The Shadow's hand indicated the closed safe. The gesture made words unnecessary.

  Henshew understood.

  "Chanbury took the gems!" exclaimed the jewel broker. "He knew that I had them! He was the only one

  -"

  Henshew stopped. Chanbury was not the only one who had known. Henshew could not forget The Shadow. The words, however, had given Cardona an idea. Joe voiced it, straight to Chanbury.

  "So that's why you had Tyrune snoop at Henshew's. Open that safe, Chanbury! We'll have a look!"

  "He must have planted them there!"

  CHANBURY was pointing to The Shadow. The grizzled man's voice became hollow as he heard a whispered laugh. The Shadow's tone, like the look of the heavy-locked vault, belied Chanbury's accusation. Perhaps The Shadow was reputed to have amazing skill at opening vaults, but there was no one to testify to it.

  If Henshew's gems were found in Chanbury's vault, the law would believe that Chanbury had placed them there. It would be odd, indeed, to find anyone - even The Shadow - bestowing a quarter million dollars' worth of wealth upon some one who had no claim to it.

  "What if I do have the gems?" challenged Chanbury. "I've laid everything else in the open! I intended to do the same with the jewels I took from Henshew's! I couldn't let it out too soon."

  "You never intended to!" cried Henshew. "You took the swag to scare me off. You thought maybe I'd quit and let you have the jewels. But if I came here - like I was fool enough to do tonight - I'd find the law here waiting. Maybe you'd like to know what I'd have done, if I'd known you had them gems. I'll tell you. I would have quit!"

  Henshew's admission was small comfort to Chanbury. The Shadow had played crook against crook.

  Henshew vengeful toward Chanbury, was using his own keen brain to supply facts that The Shadow could have stated.

  When Henshew finished, Chanbury indulged in a dry smile. He felt that he could still square himself with the law; and he had good reason to so believe. Shark Meglo lay dead upon the floor. Chanbury's eyes glistened when he viewed the body. Others were watching him; so Chanbury was prompt to declare:

  "There lies a murderer! Henshew is the man who backed the killer! All that I did was to save innocent lives."

  "Except one!"

  The Shadow's tone was sinister. Chanbury glared as he met the burning eyes. Turning to Eleanor, The Shadow spoke a question. Oddly his voice had changed its tone, so slightly that it was apparent only to the girl. Yet Eleanor, strained for the test to come, did not realize that she was again speaking to Kent Allard. She heard the quiet question:

  "When did you reach this house last night?"

  "At quarter of eight," replied the girl. Without waiting for another question, she added: "Mr. Chanbury said that he had retired early; but it couldn't have been as early as that. I thought that Mr. Chanbury was not here at quarter of eight."

  "He did not expect you so early?"

  "No. He gave me the evening off. But Tyrune seemed to think that Mr. Chanbury had been here, or should have been. I'm not quite sure -"

  The Shadow's voice interrupted. Again, with exceeding calmness, he asked:

  "About the pass-key marked Exhibit A. Did Chanbury show it to Tyrune when he mentioned it?"

  "No," replied Eleanor. "He started to look for it in the desk drawer but did not find it. I never saw the key until after Inspector Cardona came here, much later."

  "And
in mentioning Henshew's apartment," prompted The Shadow, "did Chanbury merely suspect there was a hiding place behind the bookcase?"

  "He said there was one," returned Eleanor. "But he said that before Tyrune told him that Henshew said nothing had been stolen from the apartment."

  HENSHEW was out of his chair, shaking his handcuffed wrists toward Chanbury as he shrilled:

  "That tells it! Tyrune guessed what had happened. He knew you'd sneaked out of here to grab my gems.

  You forgot to put back the pass-key, didn't you? Left it in your coat upstairs. And you topped it by mentioning the place behind the bookcase. That drove it through Tyrune's thick skull -"

  "Silence him, Cardona!" snapped Chanbury. "I have the gems. I have admitted the possession of them.

  That proves -"

  "That you murdered Jim Tyrune!" cackled Henshew, in insane enjoyment. "He was honest. He was through with you. He was going to call Cardona when he got home. That's what he was starting to do at the telephone."

  Henshew settled back into his chair maddened by his own choking laughter. Above the crook's high-pitched chuckles came a more ominous mockery: the mirth of The Shadow.

  Chanbury's fists were on the desk, his arms straining to support his body. He steadied; his knee raised slightly to nudge the buzzer below the desk top. Only The Shadow saw the motion. Rallied, Chanbury coughed his denial.

  "You found Shark's mask," he voiced to Cardona. "That was proof against the killer -"

  "A funny thing, that mask" inserted Cardona grimly. "Come to think of it, it was the first one Shark ever dumped. You know, Chanbury, they sell lots of bandannas, in every five and ten. It's easy to cut slits in them too. Any one could do it."

  It was Joe's turn to talk and he was doing it. He stopped only to learn if Chanbury had something to say.

  Defensively, Chanbury demanded:

  "Why should I turn criminal? Look at this mansion - my art treasures -"

  Chanbury stopped; he had seen The Shadow turn away. The Shadow was noting portraits on the wall.

  As his eyes fixed upon one, The Shadow spoke:

  "Faces from the past. I remember this one. Its owner thought the portrait was genuine; it was later declared a clever fraud. Perhaps he bought the original, but received the imitation -"