following the dictates of the mysterious man of the night.
With The Shadow out to thwart the plans of killers, Cardona knew that it was best to follow the
command.
CHAPTER XX. DESMOND SCHEMES
WHEN Joe Cardona had looked at the columns in the evening newspaper, his interest in the paragraph
that spoke of foreign negotiations had been merely a passing one. Such vague references were of no
account, in Cardona's mind.
Yet that passage in the report had found a keenly interested reader elsewhere. Seated in his comfortable
office, Frank Desmond, pretended employment manager, was reading it over and over again.
Those associated with John Hendrix have been noncommittal when questioned regarding the financier's
foreign enterprises. Rumors that Hendrix was planning large negotiations with South American interests
have been virtually denied.
Rodriguez Zelva, influential financier from Uruguay, issued a statement that he was not concerned in
monetary transactions with Hendrix and had no definite knowledge of impending financial affairs in South
America.
Desmond laid the newspaper aside. He had read full accounts of the murders in the morning journals and
had gone through the evening edition out of curiosity. This minor angle of the case—one that had not
appeared in the morning newspapers—had startled Desmond.
As Desmond pondered, the telephone rang. The pudgy man answered it. He heard the voice of Alvarez
Legira, speaking in low, careful words.
“All is arranged,” said the consul. “I am leaving at nine o'clock to-night. The Cordova is off the Long
Island coast. Have you communicated with Lopez?”
“Yes,” returned Desmond, briskly. “Called him this morning. Told him he would hear from me later.”
“Tell him to wait until after nine o'clock,” ordered Legira. “Then he may arrange to escape or to call the
police. You understand?”
“Yes.”
Desmond hung up the telephone and became thoughtful. He picked up the newspaper and again read the
paragraphs that had interested him. A shrewd, evil look flickered over the pudgy face.
Frank Desmond was thinking of that box which he had helped Legira transport from the Baltham Trust
Company to the secluded house on Long Island. Legira had admitted that the box contained money.
Whatever the amount might be, it was sufficient for Legira to pass over an additional thousand dollars for
services which Desmond might willingly have performed without extra payment.
DESPITE his innocuous appearance, Frank Desmond was a schemer of parts. Now, he was reviewing
the past events of his career with Alvarez Legira and his thoughts were directed particularly to the
episodes of last night.
Three men had been murdered. They were dead, at the hands of a person unknown. One of the
murdered men was John Hendrix, wealthy and influential financier. Already connection had been made
between Hendrix and affairs in South America. Desmond smiled maliciously. He fancied that Alvarez
Legira might be very closely connected with the dead financier.
Desmond had met Legira not far from the home of John Hendrix. The man from Santander had been in a
great hurry to get to the Baltham Trust Company. He had also shown great anxiety to be away from
New York, secluded on Long Island, waiting there for a sure way to leave the country unobserved.
Why had Legira placed a substitute in his own position?
Desmond had helped him to get Perry Wallace for the job. Legira had given no reason for the
substitution. Smiling, Desmond pictured the entire chain of events as he imagined they should be fitted
together.
Alvarez Legira feared certain enemies. Of that, Desmond was sure. But Desmond also saw a shrewd,
clever scheme on the part of the South American. With Perry Wallace planted at his residence, Legira
had been free to visit the home of John Hendrix—to slay—and to thus assure the success of a shady
swindle which had enabled him to obtain a large fund of money at the Baltham Trust Company.
Frank Desmond continued to smile. He saw Legira as a hunted criminal—a man about to get away
unscathed, leaving others to bear the brunt.
So Wallace and Lopez were to flee? Of course! That was an effective part of Legira's plan, as Desmond
saw it. Sleuths would trail the false Legira. The real man would be far away before the imposture was
detected.
Desmond laughed harshly.
Well, Legira had made one mistake. He had thought Frank Desmond a fool who would obey orders
blindly for a few thousand dollars! Since that was the game, Legira would learn differently.
Nine o'clock to-night—then Legira would be on his way. Nine hours to go —and in that time, Desmond,
blind and obedient, would be responsible for Legira's successful escape.
Two could play at a game like this, thought Desmond. At last he understood what was behind Legira's
complicated plotting. Desmond's mental process became involved; but through it all, one picture
dominated. That was the recollection of the money which Legira now had in his possession.
It must be great wealth to justify the desperate game. Of that wealth, Desmond desired a generous
portion. How was he to get it?
Demand more money from Legira?
That could be done; yet it would probably meet with refusal. Desmond could make threats. They would
amount to naught.
To declare that he would tip off the police to Legira's whereabouts was the only threat that Desmond
could make. Legira would laugh at such a statement. Police intervention would kill Desmond's chance for
a share of the money.
While he hesitated and pondered, Desmond decided that the first step was to ignore Perry Wallace and
Lopez. Something might be gained by leaving them where they were. As matters now stood, they would
remain at Legira's residence until told what to do.
Desmond had satisfied himself with a reason why Legira wanted the pair to leave. They were to divert
suspicion while Legira took to flight. Yet why— this came to Desmond on second thought—should
Legira want them to leave so promptly?
Midnight, to-morrow—that time would come soon enough. In considering this question, Desmond came
to the prompt conclusion that Legira's apprehension of hidden enemies was well-founded.
YES, that was it. Legira did not fear the law alone. Others were already on his trail. Who were they?
South Americans, without a doubt.
Desmond picked up the newspaper and again read the vital paragraphs. The name of Rodriguez Zelva
stood out.
Desmond smiled. Alone, he could not hope to cope with Alvarez Legira. Backed by others, who knew
the man's deceptive ways, the situation would be different.
Frank Desmond was prompt to act. He picked up the telephone directory and looked for the name of
Zelva. He found it promptly. The man had a private telephone at the Goliath Hotel.
Desmond called the number. A deep, accented voice answered. Desmond thought quickly as he phrased
his conversation.
“Mr. Zelva?” he questioned.
“Yes,” came the reply.
“I have business that I should like to discuss with you,” said Desmond, calmly. “This business concerns
South American affairs. I need information.”
“Can you state its nature?”
“Not over the telephone.”
“Your name, please?”
/>
“Desmond.”
There was a pause. The name meant nothing to Zelva. Desmond realized that. He added other words of
explanation.
“My business, Mr. Zelva,” he declared in a cautious tone, “concerns an important matter in the country of
Santander. Not knowing much about that country, I felt that I would do well to talk with some one who
knew South American affairs. It is very urgent, Mr. Zelva.”
A short wait. Then Zelva replied in smooth, friendly tones.
“No one knows a great deal about Santander,” were his words. “I am afraid I cannot give you much
information. However, Mr. Desmond, I should be glad to grant you an interview. It happens that I am not
busy at present. If you wish, you may come here now.”
“Fifteen minutes,” rejoined Desmond promptly.
“Very good,” said Zelva.
Desmond hung up the phone and indulged in a satisfied grin. He fancied that this meeting with Rodriguez
Zelva would bring unusual results.
Picking his hat from the rack, Desmond left the office. Visions of wealth danced before his eyes as he
strode along. Desmond felt that he had done the unexpected.
The fact that he was willing to play the traitor meant nothing to Frank Desmond.
CHAPTER XXI. ZELVA DECIDES
“WHAT can you tell me about Alvarez Legira?”
It was Frank Desmond who asked the question. Seated by the window of Rodriguez Zelva's apartment,
Desmond faced the stocky South American as he spoke.
Zelva's black eyes shone as he studied Desmond's countenance. Zelva had shrewdly placed Desmond
where he could note the expressions on the man's face.
“Alvarez Legira?” Zelva shrugged his shoulders. “I know very little about the man. He calls himself the
consul from Santander. That is all I know.”
“To-day's newspapers,” remarked Desmond, calmly, “speaks of a monetary transaction between New
York financiers and South American interests. Could that concern Legira?”
“I know nothing about such transactions,” said Zelva, coldly. “You say that you have seen the
newspaper. I gave an interview to the press this morning. I told them what I have told you—that I know
nothing.”
“Suppose,” said Desmond, speculatively, “that I told you such a transaction did exist and that it did
concern Alvarez Legira. Would that interest you?”
“Perhaps,” replied Zelva, in a noncommittal tone. “All things that pertain to South America may be of
interest to me.”
“Suppose,” continued Desmond, “that I told you that Alvarez Legira now possessed a considerable sum
of money, paid to him here in New York—in other words, that the transaction had been completed?”
“That would be nothing to me.”
“Would you treat the matter in confidence, if I gave you details, so that you could advise me what to
do?”
“I should be pleased to do so,” acknowledged Zelva, with a bow. “That, Mr. Desmond, is something
that I am always willing to do—keep a confidence.”
“All right,” declared Desmond, abruptly. “I'm going to lay the cards flat on the table. I'm playing a hunch,
Mr. Zelva—a hunch that you know more than you have said. Here's the whole story.
“I have been in the pay of Alvarez Legira. Paid by him, you understand? Paid to help him pull a stunt that
he is going to get away with unless I stop him.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Zelva, in a tone of surprise.
“There's plenty of money in it,” continued Desmond. “Plenty—for Legira. The eleven thousand he paid
me for helping him must be chicken-feed or he wouldn't have handed it over so quickly.
“Legira is phony. He's getting away with plenty. Why should he? I don't know how much there is in
it—but I'm willing to get off with a third. That's how big I think it is!”
ZELVA did not reply. His eyes were half closed. There was a peculiar expression on his face which
encouraged Desmond to proceed.
“One third!” said the traitor, emphatically. “One third, for telling how the money can be had. I'm in a
position to talk. I know two facts and I can state the first without giving away the second. The statement
of the first will prove the value of the second.”
“Facts are interesting,” observed Zelva, quietly.
“Good!” declared Desmond. “Here's one for you, then. Alvarez Legira paid me to find a man who would
serve as his double. I found the man. He took Legira's place more than three days ago. He has been
posing as Legira since. He is posing as Legira now.
“Meanwhile, Alvarez Legira has been free—free to collect what he is after and to prepare for a perfect
getaway. What do you think of that, Mr. Zelva?”
Zelva's eyes were wide open. Even with his lids half closed, he had been watching Desmond closely.
Now, he knew without doubt, that the traitor's statement was a true one.
No man would have come here with such a fantastic story unless it were the truth. In Desmond, Zelva
had first suspected an investigator from Legira. Now, he saw a traitor.
“You say that Legira—”
Zelva paused. His scheming mind detected a possible plot on the part of Legira to divert suspicion from
the consular residence. But Desmond, eager because of Zelva's response, was interrupting with further
news.
“Legira has the money,” he announced. “I helped him to get it. I helped him take it away. I know where it
is and what he is going to do with it. That brings me to the second important fact, Mr. Zelva. I can tell
where Alvarez Legira is. I shall do it—for one third of what there is in it.”
“There are people,” said Zelva, “who might use such information. I think” —his tone was
speculative—“that they would give you one third.”
“Think won't do,” responded Desmond. “I want to be sure of it. I'd take your word for it—”
“I know that they would give you one third,” said Zelva, quietly.
Desmond studied his man. He felt that the time for pretense was ended.
“All right,” he said. “I'll tell you everything. I'm doing it on the assumption that you are those people you
talk about. I'll spill the whole story and I'll expect a chance to get clear of the country.”
“That should be easy,” replied Zelva. “Arrangements will be made for it.”
With this positive assurance that Zelva was concerned vitally with the budding plot, Desmond lost no time
in giving the necessary information.
“NINE o'clock to-night,” he said. “The yacht Cordova is off Long Island. Legira has the money in a box,
in an old house that I rented for him. He has a car. He and his servant, Francisco, are to meet a small
boat from the Cordova. Going aboard—then off for parts unknown.
“Legira fears an attack at midnight—not on himself, but against Wallace, the impostor, and Lopez, the
secretary, who are the blinds. I am to notify them to clear out or to call the police for protection. That is
up to them.
“I think the police idea is just a bluff on Legira's part. I figure he's the man who killed Hendrix and he
wanted me to think that he is not afraid of the police.”
“You say that you are to notify Lopez?”
Rodriguez Zelva was losing his pretense of evasive interest. He knew that Desmond was speaking
straight. The traitor had lost all caution during his excited flow of information.
“Yes,” responded Desmond. “I
am to notify him—”
“Do not do so,” said Zelva.
“All right,” answered Desmond.
“Do nothing,” added Zelva. “Give me your address. At your home or wherever you live. Go back to
your office. Report whatever you hear from Legira. Stay at your quarters afterward. Continue to report. I
shall do all. You will receive word from me. I am thinking—already -”
The evil smile that appeared upon Zelva's puffy lips brought an enthusiastic grin from Frank Desmond.
The traitor was sure that he had scored a bull's-eye in his wild shot to thwart Legira.
“Give me data now,” continued Zelva. “Then go—very carefully.”
In response to Zelva's careful questioning, Frank Desmond revealed all that he knew. Among the details
that he gave was the important item concerning the location of the house on Long Island.
When the interview had finished, Rodriguez Zelva knew all. He understood fully that the avaricious nature
of Desmond had inspired the man to seek this way of double-crossing Legira.
To Zelva, the double cross was the simplest method of procedure. Now, his purpose was to convince
Desmond that there would be no cause for worry.
“What Legira has intended is good,” remarked Zelva. “Good because it is a way to take much money
safely. So I shall do the same, but better. I shall tell you how much money Legira has taken. Would you
like to know?”
Desmond was agog.
“Ten million dollars,” said Zelva, quietly. “He was offered one half if he would give it up. He would not
do so. On that account, I shall give one half to the man who has done so. That will be your share, my
friend.”
The calm mention of such vast wealth staggered Desmond. He had been thinking in terms of a hundred
thousand dollars or more. Now, he was bewildered. Zelva had calculated upon that.
“Do not worry for one minute,” said the South American, assuringly. “You will hear from me, positively.
You will hear a wonderful plan that will make everything easy for you. Without you, I would not have
managed to take this money as I intend to do now. So you shall have the half of it. I do not make
mistakes as does Legira. He left you, here, with unfair payment. You were right not to stay by him. I shall
be different.”
He extended his hand; Desmond accepted it. Then the South American motioned the traitor to the door.
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