The Silent Death s-27

by Maxwell Grant

  bullet to leave The Shadow's automatic and reach its mark. The leaden messenger struck just as Brooks

  was firing. Planted squarely between the false butler's eyes, its powerful impact swung the gangster's

  head backward with jarring force. The revolver hand moved upward with the jar. The bullet from the

  butler's gun swished the top of The Shadow's slouch hat and crashed into the wall beyond.

  THE SHADOW rose from the floor. The duel of death was ended. By a margin so narrow that it

  seemed incredible, the black-garbed rescuer had gained the victory over his stubborn foeman. Duster

  Brooks, hardened fighter from the bad lands, had fired his last shot.

  The Shadow glided noiselessly across the room. He paused by the door that led to the veranda. His

  sharp eyes saw a man coming from the doorway of the studio.

  It was Alfred Sartain. Recovered, but still a trifle groggy, the millionaire had been attracted by the shots.

  In his hand he held a revolver that he had taken from his desk drawer.

  The Shadow slipped into the outer darkness. Sartain did not catch even a glimpse of his disappearing

  form. The millionaire hurried to the spot where two men lay. He found Brooks dead; Hunnefield

  recovering from the stunning blow that he had received.

  While Sartain was attempting to revive the secretary, The Shadow reappeared. Unseen, unheard, he

  glided toward the outer door that led to the stairway. Bulging beneath his cloak was the brief case that

  contained the hat and coat which he had worn here.

  Outside, The Shadow paused. He stood, like a protecting phantom, watching Sartain at work. A noise

  came from the elevator shaft. Quickly, The Shadow swished to the head of the stairs.

  The elevator door slid back. Three men with revolvers sallied forth. They were detectives, and the keen

  eyes of The Shadow recognized their leader as Joe Cardona, ace of Manhattan sleuths.

  All danger was ended now. The police had arrived. Alfred Sartain would be protected against further

  attack. The tall figure in black glided down the stairway, a few seconds before one of the detectives— at

  Cardona's order— went to investigate that quarter.

  In the penthouse living room, Alfred Sartain looked up toward the ace detective. Hunnefield's eyes, now

  opened, were staring in wonderment. Both millionaire and secretary were ready to give their version of

  the affray; but their stories would be incomplete.

  Sartain, at the point of death when rescued, had gained no more than a blurred impression of the

  personage who had rescued him. Hunnefield, struck down by the gun which Brooks had wielded, had

  not seen The Shadow.

  Mystery shrouded this strange rescue. Two dead gunmen in the studio; the slain butler in the living

  room — these men could not tell what they had seen.

  The plot of death had failed. The Shadow had departed, leaving no proof of his weird identity!

  But the watchers in the little office high up in the Brinton Building had seen the whole strange occurrence.

  Their well-laid plans had been destroyed by the weird personage in black. Their start in crime was

  thwarted. They would try again!

  CHAPTER VI. THE PROFESSOR PLANS

  A SEDAN turned from a Long Island highway and entered a driveway toward a gloomy mansion. It

  kept on past the house, and its brilliant headlights shone upon an oddly shaped structure that resembled a

  gigantic cheese box. A grumbled order came from the man who sat beside the driver.

  "Pull up over there, Ricordo."

  The tones were those of Professor Folcroft Urlich. Responding, Larry Ricordo brought the car to a stop

  beside the circular building. He followed Urlich when the professor stepped from the sedan.

  The mammoth cheese box, tucked out of view behind the old mansion, puzzled Larry Ricordo as he

  approached it. The gang leader studied every feature of the odd structure. Although circular, it seemed to

  possess a pagoda style, on a flattened scale.

  First, Urlich and Ricordo entered a sort of portico that ran entirely around the building, under a low,

  extending roof, which was supported by iron posts set at intervals. Ricordo noted that the floor of this

  peculiar ground-level porch was formed of metal plates.

  Professor Urlich pressed a button beside a double door at the front of the building. A few moments later,

  the two doors swung inward. They closed after the men had entered.

  The pair now stood within a second circular passageway that had walls on both sides. It was a gloomy

  corridor that appeared to run completely around the building.

  A single door showed opposite the portal they had entered. The professor ignored it.

  As they walked along this strange hall, Ricordo noted again that he was treading upon plates of metal.

  They circled halfway around; then stopped at a door set in the inner wall.

  Here Professor Urlich pressed another button. The metal door slid upward, revealing a circular staircase

  that led both up and down.

  Urlich conducted his companion upward, through a huge cylinder that resembled a water standpipe.

  When they came to the top, they emerged into a large circular room, the second story of this odd

  building.

  "My laboratory," remarked Professor Urlich.

  LARRY RICORDO blinked as they headed for another stairway in the center of the room. He saw all

  sorts of strange devices: crucibles, huge tubes, bottles upon shelves, machines, and models of all

  descriptions. Two silent men, clad in white coats and aprons, were at work there.

  The outer walls of this circular chamber were windowless; but the outer rim of the roof was designed

  with skylights, and Ricordo noted workbenches set near the wall, so that they could gain illumination from

  outside during daytime hours.

  The gang leader's inspection ended as Professor Urlich conducted him up the central spiral. They

  reached a hall above; here were doors on all sides. The professor opened one and brought Ricordo into

  a small room that was equipped like an office. It had a single window.

  Glancing from this opening, Ricordo made out the shape of the building. The first floor was like a huge

  cylinder of large diameter, but of stunted height. The second was of less diameter, for it had no portico.

  The third, where they were now located, was even smaller in diameter.

  This allowed for the skylights in the laboratory and made the building take on its pagodalike shape. Like

  an Egyptian pyramid, this odd edifice was built in steps, but it was circular, not square.

  Ricordo found himself wondering what might be on that first floor, with the circular passage which they

  had followed. He asked no questions, however. Professor Urlich was speaking, and Ricordo turned

  away from the window to face the scientist.

  "To-night," said the professor, "we encountered temporary defeat. When we saw police detectives enter

  Alfred Sartain's studio, we knew that there was no further hope. That is why I told Thomas Jocelyn to go

  to his residence; it is also why I brought you here, Ricordo. It was not wise to remain in that office across

  the street."

  "You're right it wasn't," returned Ricordo. "Not with The Shadow on the job. I'm worried yet, professor."

  Urlich indicated a telephone.

  "Communicate with Slips Harbeck," he ordered. "Call the number in the usual fashion. This telephone,

  Ricordo, is arranged on a special wire. It cannot be traced. It has the number of a telephone in a

  deserted house miles from he
re."

  Ricordo grinned and picked up the telephone. He called a Manhattan number, the underworld spot

  where Slips Harbeck made his headquarters. Professor Urlich went out of the room while the gang

  leader talked with his lieutenant. When he returned, he glanced inquiringly at Ricordo.

  "THE SHADOW queered the job all right," stated Larry. "He nailed those two gorillas in Sartain's studio.

  He nicked the other pair, and he almost got Slips. The only reason they made a get-away was because

  Brooks put up a fight.

  "Slips had a guy watching the apartment house. He says The Shadow got Brooks in the finish. The cops

  brought out the body."

  A quizzical frown appeared upon Professor Urlich's forehead. The evil-faced scientist studied his

  gang-lord aid. He put forth a question that startled Larry Ricordo.

  "Tell me," demanded Urlich, "who is this whom you call The Shadow? The one whom we saw to-night.

  Let me know all that you have learned concerning him."

  "The Shadow?" Ricordo's question was tinged with awe. "Say, professor, I spilled a lot about him back

  there in the office — until you told me to let the matter rest until later."

  "You were excited then," interposed Urlich. "At present, we are quiet. You can speak with calmness.

  What is The Shadow? Is he a gang leader, like yourself — or is he a detective?"

  "No one knows what he is," confessed Ricordo. "That bird must have a racket all his own. He crowds in

  on any good lay that he hears about, and puts the kibosh on it. He's not hooked up with the bulls; he's

  not a crook."

  "You mean," quizzed Urlich, "that he is a roving personage of the underworld, seeking adventure through

  encounters with dangerous criminals?"

  "That's about it," admitted Ricordo. "There's plenty of big shots that have missed out when they met The

  Shadow. Plenty have checked out, too. He plays a cute game, professor. Lays back and lets a good lay

  get all set; then steps into it himself."

  "Remarkable," observed the scientist. "I have heard of this person, but I preferred to regard him as a

  myth. However, after to-night — "

  "To-night!" ejaculated the gang leader. "Say, professor, you don't realize what we saw to-night. We saw

  The Shadow at work! Get that? Saw him, and got away with it!"

  "Is that unusual?"

  "Is it unusual? Listen, professor, it's lucky for us we were tucked out of sight across the street. You saw

  what he did to those two gorillas, didn't you? Well, we'd have taken it, too, if he'd known we were

  around!"

  "Do you think so?" Professor Urlich's tone was ironical. "Well, Ricordo, I believe you are wrong. The

  Shadow — as you term him — is unquestionably a dangerous foe. I observed that fact tonight.

  "At the same time, it is quite obvious that he utilizes the inferior methods that you employ: open attack,

  with apparent violence.

  "Such cannot compare with the ways at my disposal. Silent death— subtle death — those are more

  dangerous than ordinary weapons. You saw my method this evening. It failed; but that was not Alfred

  Sartain's doing. The intervention of The Shadow was the unknown factor that I had not anticipated."

  "Maybe not," objected Ricordo, in a bitter tone, "but, just the same, The Shadow queered the works.

  What are we going to do about it? Old Jocelyn has lost out on his big deal, hasn't he?"

  "Jocelyn will not suffer," returned Urlich calmly. "His holdings are sound. Perhaps he will lose something

  on them. That will not matter. He will regain the loss later on. Alfred Sartain was but one of those who

  are upon our list."

  "Now you're getting there," grinned Ricordo. "We're going right ahead, eh? Well, we're all

  right — providing The Shadow doesn't muscle in again."

  "I am glad to hear you consider that possibility," cackled Urlich. "It has much to do with the plans that I

  now contemplate. We are going to forget Thomas Jocelyn for the present. We will give him time to

  recuperate; both nervously and financially. In the meantime, we will render the future certain."

  "How?"

  "By eliminating The Shadow!"

  LARRY RICORDO spread his puffy lips as he heard the professor's words. His expression was one of

  astonishment. Then the open mouth formed a broad, doubting grin.

  "You won't be able to do it, professor," declared the gang leader, with regret in his tone. "How can you

  fight a man you can't find? They've tried to get The Shadow before. He's stopped every one that's

  chanced it.

  "When the big shots found that The Shadow was real, they framed every way they could think of. They

  even planted a bunch of gorillas around the radio studio where he broadcast. They never found him there.

  "When he shows up any place, it's like he did to-night — through a skylight — out of the air — from the

  middle of a mob — "

  "They lacked technique," interrupted Urlich impatiently. "I am different from those of whom you speak. I

  not only possess incredible methods of dealing with my enemies; I am also analytical. It is not necessary

  to find The Shadow. There is a simpler way."

  "What's that?"

  "Let him try to find us."

  "How?"

  Professor Urlich smiled. He shook his head as he studied Larry Ricordo. The gang leader's bewilderment

  was proof that his ability lay with guns and not with strategy.

  "There is a cause for everything," observed Urlich. "We must, therefore, seek the cause of The Shadow's

  appearance to-night. In some fashion, The Shadow learned that Alfred Sartain's life was in danger. How

  did he gain cognizance of that fact?"

  "I can't guess," returned Ricordo. "Only The Shadow knows."

  "He did not learn of it through observing you, myself, or Jocelyn," continued Urlich. "If he suspected any

  one of us, he would have struck in our direction before to-night."

  Larry Ricordo tightened his fists as he heard this theory. The gang leader did not relish the thought of

  being tracked by The Shadow.

  "Had he suspected Duster Brooks," analyzed Urlich, "The Shadow could easily have counteracted

  Duster's activities as Sartain's butler. This, therefore, eliminated all possibilities but one."

  "Slips Harbeck?"

  "Exactly. Your unwarranted efforts to cover Sartain were the element which led to the failure of my

  perfectly-planned scheme."

  "Slips wouldn't have let anything out," objected Ricordo. "I just talked to him by telephone and he's a

  wise bimbo. I can't figure that, professor."

  "You lack analysis, Ricordo. Slips Harbeck, at your order, assembled a squad of gangsters. I assume

  that all of them were reliable men. However, your lieutenant must necessarily have done some talking in

  order to obtain his underlings.

  "You speak of The Shadow as a constant deterring factor in the underworld. It is quite obvious that he

  learned of Harbeck's activities, and promptly covered your lieutenant."

  "That would be The Shadow's way!" blurted Larry Ricordo. "You've hit it, professor! Maybe he didn't

  get onto Slips at first; he might have spotted one of the gorillas getting ready for a job."

  "Two men," stated Urlich, "alone knew of your connection. One was Duster Brooks — now dead. The

  other is Slips Harbeck — still alive. I need you, Ricordo, and I need the services of your men. I intend to

  employ them in the trapping of this man you call The Shadow.

  "There is a limit to the amount that any person can know.
At present, The Shadow knows that Slips

  Harbeck is engaged in unusual crime. If we use some one in place of Slips, The Shadow may be clever

  enough to cover your new lieutenant. Slips is capable; we do not want another."

  "You're getting me twisted," inserted Larry Ricordo. "I can't quite figure it, professor."

  "Wait until I have finished," remarked Urlich. "We have one purpose at present: to end the career of The

  Shadow. Our way, then, will be clear. The Shadow, on the contrary, is seeking to prevent death. He

  succeeded by covering Slips Harbeck; therefore, he will continue to cover Slips."

  "And then — "

  "He will seek to destroy any plot in which Slips is concerned. Therefore, I will plan an apparent

  trap — like the one I had for Alfred Sartain — which The Shadow will investigate."

  "Getting wise to it by watching Slips?"

  "Exactly. But on this occasion, the trap will be set for The Shadow himself!"

  A GLOATING grin appeared upon Larry Ricordo's evil face. He saw the purpose now. Once again,

  Slips Harbeck would be summoned by his ganglord chief. But this time, Slips would be a cat's-paw, the

  agent who would lead The Shadow into one of Professor Folcroft Urlich's subtle snares!

  "But if The Shadow is covering Slips," said Ricordo, voicing a momentary doubt, "he's liable to bump off

  Slips at any time — "

  "Not a bit of it," interposed Urlich. "He knows by now that Slips is merely a tool in the game. Why

  should he end the link that may lead him to those higher up?"

  "To you and me," growled Ricordo, in a troubled tone.

  "To you, first," stated Urlich. "But have no fear on that score. You have kept out of sight very effectively,

  Ricordo. You will continue to do so in even better fashion. You will remain with me. You will be safe

  here.

  "Even if Slips Harbeck should reveal your name, it would prove to our advantage. I would like nothing

  better" — the scientist's venomous smile proved his words—"than to have The Shadow visit me here.

  That, however, should prove unnecessary.

  "Your first duty is to give Slips Harbeck instructions by telephone. Tell him to wait frequently at the place