The Living Shadow s-1

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The Living Shadow s-1 Page 19

by Maxwell Grant


  “Yes, and they deserve it. They’ve done some good work in the past. Every one will get his correct percentage, and I can tell you that this will be by far the best.”

  The dark-faced man licked his lips in anticipation.

  “Well,” he said, “I deserve my share. I pulled the job.”

  The old lawyer chuckled.

  “Yes,” he said, “you pulled the last part of it - the easiest of all. You’re a great one, Tony, to take credit for the job.”

  “Why did you pick me, then?”

  “You know why. Because I have you like that.” The lawyer snapped his thumb and forefinger together with an emphatic gesture.

  “You’re a wise man, Mr. Bingham,” he said. “You have the goods on everybody. You could make them work for nothing, and they’d have to do it. Instead of that you give every one of us a fair piece of the swag.”

  “That’s what counts, Tony.”

  “There’s only one thing that gets me, Mr. Bingham. How did you fix Burgess?”

  The old lawyer looked suddenly about the room.

  “Say nothing about that, Tony,” he ordered. “I only told you because you were afraid of the Laidlow house on account of the murder. I wanted you to be sure that I knew who did it.”

  “I know that. I’m keeping quiet, you bet. I just wondered how you fixed a guy like that.”

  “I don’t tell my affairs, Tony. But I’ll let you know about this one. You have a right to know, because you went there three nights ago and brought me the box.

  “I had been watching Burgess. I knew what he was doing. He had the combination to the safe, but he did not know that it contained the information regarding the place where the gems were kept.

  “Knowing what I did about Burgess, that he had been taking money that belonged to his employer, I met him one day and told him that he had only one way out - to work with me. That’s why he did it. The murder was his own idea. He was scared. I helped him out of it. Lucky for him I was waiting outside.”

  “How did you know that there was a note in the safe, telling where to find the stuff?”

  “You ask too many questions, Tony.”

  “All right, chief. I won’t ask any more.”

  “Well, I’ll answer the last one, then. I handled a case for Geoffrey Laidlow a few years ago. In discussing his affairs, he mentioned that he was the only man who knew where the jewels were kept, but that he had a message in his safe that would tell the place - only no one would ever be able to puzzle out the message. I think Laidlow forgot that he ever told me that much.”

  “But you got the message and doped it out!”

  “I learned its secret. That is sufficient.”

  Harry could see that Tony would liked to have asked more questions, but the lawyer had leaned back in his chair and had closed his eyes, as though to shut off the questioning.

  Tony rose from the chair and walked over to the window.

  Harry slipped out of sight. The man in the room began to hum a tune in excellent voice. The melody was close to Harry’s ears and sounded loud, obscuring other sounds.

  Then something fell heavily upon Harry’s back. It flattened him against the porch before he could even gasp!

  A man had come upon him in the darkness.

  With one hand free, Harry struck out at his antagonist. The man grappled in return. Then Tony jumped through the window and joined in the fray.

  Harry rolled free and staggered to his feet. Battling in the darkness, his fist landed against a man’s face. The fellow went down upon the porch. It was Tony who had fallen.

  Ezekiel Bingham, aroused from his nap, had arrived with the lamp. He was holding it at the window. Its feeble light illuminated the space where Harry was now meeting he who had attacked from behind.

  The fellow’s hand was pushing Vincent’s chin upward. Then that hand slipped.

  Hooking his wrist behind the man’s neck, Harry gained the winning hold and cast his antagonist to the porch. The effort made Harry lose his balance, but he caught himself against a post, and made ready for the leap to the ground.

  Then his triumph ended. Something smashed against the back of his head. Harry turned, half stunned, and was met by a pair of strong fists that rebounded from his face. Tony had come back into the fight. His first blow had been delivered with a piece of wood that he had snatched from where it lay on the ground.

  “Good work, Tony,” prompted Bingham. “Come on, Jake. Help him out.”

  The man whom Harry had thrown joined his companion.

  It was inevitable that Harry should go down under their flailing fists - they were at him from both sides. As he fell, both men jumped on Harry. Under the double pummeling, Harry at length lapsed into unconsciousness.

  “Found him here on the porch,” panted Jake as he arose from Harry’s inert form. “Tony and I have fixed him proper. Fetch a rope.”

  The old lawyer produced the required article. Harry’s motionless body was trussed in the coils of a long, heavy clothes line, his arms and legs doubled up together.

  “Bring him in,” ordered Bingham. “Let me look at him.”

  The unconscious man was laid on the floor of the room. The old lawyer held the lamp above his face, which was bleeding and distorted.

  “Don’t know him,” declared Bingham tersely. “Never saw him before that I can remember. Put him over there in the corner.”

  Jake and Tony obeyed. The motionless body of Harry Vincent was flung without ceremony on the spot that the old lawyer had designated.

  CHAPTER XXXII

  ENGLISH JOHNNY ARRIVES

  Old Ezekiel Bingham looked at his watch. It showed a quarter of eight. He was alone in the room with the captured interloper, who lay seemingly lifeless. The man had not moved since he had been brought in from the porch.

  The door opened; Tony and Jake entered, carrying lanterns. Another man was with them.

  “Here’s Spotter,” said Jake. “Just came up in his car. We met him outside.”

  The newcomer was short and thin, with a wicked-looking face and beady eyes. The top of his head was on a level with Jake’s shoulder; and Jake, despite his broadness, was not over six feet tall.

  “Hello, Spotter,” greeted the old lawyer. “We just had some trouble here. Did you make a good search, boys?”

  “We did,” declared Jake emphatically. “There’s nobody else around. This fellow we caught is probably some prowler who happened to be going through the woods. Did you ever see him before, Spotter?”

  The short thin man stepped across the room and gazed at the face of the man on the floor.

  “No,” he said. “He ain’t a crook; he ain’t a bull. I can tell you that by lookin’ at him. He’s some fellow from town who must have been walkin’ through the woods. Tony tells me he was lookin’ in the window when you caught him. Anybody might come lookin’ in if they was comin’ by.”

  “That sounds logical, Spotter,” declared Bingham with approval. “Your opinion is worth a great deal. You know every criminal in the business; and you know every detective on the force. You are a valuable man.”

  “Sure, I knows them all,” grinned Spotter. “That’s why they calls me ‘Spotter,’ ain’t it? What good is a name if it don’t mean nothin’?”

  “Well, it’s good business,” declared the lawyer. “You see, Tony, there was a good reason to keep the window shut, with the shade down. I have taken that precaution while you were on your tour of inspection.”

  “Guess you’re right, Mr. Bingham,” admitted Tony.

  “How did you happen to discover the man, Jake?” inquired the lawyer.

  “Just luck,” replied Jake. “I parked my bus at the side of the house and stepped up on the end of the porch. I saw him, and knew he didn’t belong here. So I landed on him.”

  “Very good,” commended the lawyer. “Come in from the door, Tony. Close it when you do.”

  Tony was standing, lantern in hand, on the porch before the door. Beside him was a long thin
shadow that came from the steps and lay motionless in the light. No one noticed the peculiarly shaped blotch. It passed the shadow of the post beside the steps.

  “You can take it from me,” said Tony as he stepped through the doorway. “There’s nobody within five hundred yards of this place. Jake and I did a real job.”

  “That was what you were sent out to do,” declared the old lawyer.

  Tony shut the door; and the shadow on the porch was obliterated. All was dark outside - dark and silent.

  “Let us check up, first,” declared the lawyer. “There is only one more coming. We can hear from him later. How did you come, Tony?”

  “I laid around a little town out here for a couple of days. I didn’t go back to the city after I left you the other night. No chance that anybody knows where I am.”

  “How about you, Jake?”

  “I’ve been down in Philadelphia for a month. I cleared out after the last job. I wasn’t in on this, and I’ve been working in a restaurant while I was away. I had my car down there and came straight through. I’m safe enough.”

  “Well, Spotter?”

  “Youse guys know I’m always safe. I went up in Connecticut. Bought an old car up there an’ came across the Sound in a ferryboat. Youse just know I looked ‘em all over on that boat. Why should anyone be followin’ me, anyway? It’s me that follows other people; not them that follows me.”

  “Well,” declared Ezekiel Bingham, “my own case is, of course, exceptional. I have very little to avoid; nevertheless I took every precaution. I came here two days ago, and have remained alone since then.”

  “What! Out here?” exclaimed Jake.

  “Certainly. It is the safest possible place. Everything is arranged upstairs so that I receive an instant alarm when anyone enters here. I am awake at night, and sleep during the day and I sleep very little and very lightly.”

  With the door and windows tightly shut, none of the men heard the arrival of another automobile. It was a large sedan which coasted up directly in front of the house, its motor shut off.

  A big man stepped from the car and looked at his watch in the light of the dash lamp. A grunt of satisfaction came from his lips.

  “Eight o’clock,” he said. “Just timed it right. Kennedy sure knows how to circle around in that plane of his.”

  He struck a match, and the glare revealed his full red face. He puffed away at his stogie as he stood by the car. Then he walked to the steps and stopped a moment.

  “Nice place this,” he chuckled. “No shadows out here.”

  He seemed to be enjoying the combination of night air and cigar smoke.

  “Well, I’m on time,” he observed. “Guess all the boys are here. Let them wait a couple of minutes for me.”

  The red glow of the cigar deepened and softened alternately, as indication of the smoker’s puffs. Occasionally the glow disappeared for a few moments, as though it were subsiding in the hand of the man who held it and lowered it to his side. Two minutes passed; then the cigar light moved through the darkness toward the porch.

  The boards creaked under heavy, solid footsteps. A large hand pushed the door open, and the man with the cigar stamped into the lighted room where the four men were seated.

  “English Johnny!” exclaimed Jake.

  “Hello, boys,” greeted the big man with a grin on his beefy face. “I’m just about on time, ain’t I?”

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  ENGLISH JOHNNY EXPLAINS

  “We are ready for business,” declared Ezekiel Bingham, looking at the other men as they sat about the table. “Have you anything to report before we start?”

  The question was addressed to the big man with the red face.

  “Plenty,” was the reply.

  A look of interest flashed around the crowd.

  “What’s up, Johnny?” questioned Pete.

  “Nothing, now,” replied the big man with a broad grin. “I was up - up in the air. That’s how I got here.”

  He paused and studied the effect of his words. His listeners silently awaited his explanation.

  “It was this way,” he continued. “Two nights ago a phony taxi driver tried to pull a fast one on me. I got rid of him quick enough. But that night I thought somebody came in my house.”

  “You thought some one came in!” exclaimed Ezekiel Bingham. “Why didn’t you find out positively?”

  “How can you find out?” questioned the big fellow. “How can you find out when you don’t see nothing but a lot of shadows?”

  “Shadows aren’t people.”

  “Yes, but I saw one shadow all by itself. It looked real.”

  Ezekiel Bingham’s face showed his annoyance.

  “Let me explain,” English Johnny continued. “This shadow hung around my house. It was in my room. I says to myself: ‘English Johnny, old boy, there’s some one here with you.’ So I wrote a phony letter and left it where anyone could read it. Then I took it to the mail box and faked putting it in.”

  “Nonsense!” cried the old lawyer. “This is ridiculous. English Johnny talking about living shadows.”

  “English Johnny is right,” declared Spotter solemnly.

  Ezekiel Bingham stared at him in amazement.

  “I mean it,” Spotter went on. “Croaker saw The Shadow the night he was killed. Others have seen The Shadow.”

  “Where? When?” came a chorus of voices.

  “One night,” said Spotter, “I saw a guy in a black cloak getting in a big limousine. I couldn’t see his face, but he handed money to the chauffeur and they drove off.

  “I had a car around the corner, and ‘Birdie’ Crull was waiting for me. I drove after the big car, but it got away from us. Then we picked it up again, just by luck, a half hour later.

  “I tells Birdie that the guy in the big bus has dough on him. So I gets past the car on another street and runs into it coming the other way. Up she goes on the curb, and Birdie opens the door and flashes a rod.

  “Then, out of nothing, comes this big black shadow. It was a man, all right - but it didn’t look human. It wraps around Birdie and shoots him with his own rod. He flops in the street, and The Shadow moves right across without a noise, and that was the last we seen of it.”

  “That’s The Shadow, all right,” declared English Johnny. “I was never quite sure he was real.”

  “I seen The Shadow again,” said Spotter eagerly. “Down by the Pink Rat. This time I looked for his face. I saw nothing but a piece of white that looked like a bandage. Maybe The Shadow ain’t got no face to speak of. Looked like the bandage hid somethin’ in back. There was a young guy once who the crooks was afraid of - he was a famous spy in the War, and they say he was wounded over in France - wounded in the face. I think The Shadow is this guy come back - maybe he -“

  Ezekiel Bingham interrupted.

  “I heard about Croaker and The Shadow,” he said. “Once I imagined I saw a shadow. Imagination plays many tricks; even on those who have steady nerves. But what of it? Why talk of a shadow? Go on, Johnny, tell us the rest of your story. We may judge then.”

  English Johnny grinned with satisfaction. Evidently there was a surprise in store. But the big man restrained himself and continued in a casual manner:

  “I’ll make the rest of it short. Last night I ran into the taxi driver again. In one of my lunch wagons. I knocked him groggy when a new man behind the counter helped him get away. Some of the gunmen chased him but wrecked their car.

  “So I was wise today. I says to myself: ‘English Johnny, there’s some guy on your trail.’ Everywhere I went it was the same. So I hopped over to Newark, and got a friend of mine named Kennedy to take me up for a ride in his plane. Then I says to Kennedy: ‘Go like blazes up above New York, and cut back to Long Island. You can name your price.’ And Kennedy went like blazes. Even this Shadow couldn’t have followed us. After we landed, I got a car from a place I knew about, and here I am.”

  Tony whistled.

  “Pretty smart, Johnny,�
�� he said. “You’re safe enough. Are you sure the guy you got the car from was all right?”

  “Sure enough,” replied the big man. “He didn’t even know me, until I proved who I was. He’s the last guy in the world that they would look for to find out where I was.”

  “Then it’s all right,” declared Ezekiel Bingham. “Personally I think it is all your imagination, Johnny.”

  “Well, I’m not worrying now,” came the reply. “All this didn’t start until after I left the place where I had fixed everything. The Shadow wasn’t anywhere around there.”

  “Then you’re ready to take the gems?”

  “You bet. Sooner the better. Do it quick.”

  The old lawyer went upstairs and returned with a large box. He opened it upon the table, and the eager eyes of the onlookers glittered as they saw the sparkling jewels that had been the pride of Geoffrey Laidlow.

  “Look them over,” said the lawyer briefly. “I have the complete list in my possession. I shall go over it with you and arrange your shares. Do you want to wait, Johnny?”

  “I can’t. It’s nearly nine o’clock now. Two hours into the city if the traffic is heavy. Maybe more than two hours. I’ve got to get there before midnight.”

  “Quite right. Shall I send some one into town with you?”

  The old lawyer looked around the group.

  “Not me,” declared Jake. “I want to go over that list. I’ll bet it’s a sweet one. We can figure just about what we’re going to get when we check up the list.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Tony. “I want to see the list, too.”

  Bingham looked at Spotter.

  “Let Johnny go alone,” the little man declared. “He’s done it before. Leave it to him. I’d like a look at that list myself.”

  “Agreed,” said the old lawyer in a final tone.

  The big man with the red face arose, and Ezekiel Bingham handed him the closed box that contained the collection of precious stones.

  “Anything else, Johnny?”

  “Yeah! What’s that over in the corner?”

  “Look him over before you go,” said the old lawyer. “It’s a man who looked in the window before you came. Jake and Tony caught him.”

 

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