The Fifth Face s-204

by Maxwell Grant

or the bulls would have come here ahead of you."

  Barney's big lips spread in a wide grin.

  "Suppose I told you that this joint was covered," he said, "with coppers all around, outside. What would you guys do about it?"

  "We'd put the blast on you," informed Clip, "and then shoot it out with them. Only, you haven't got those coppers with you, Barney. You thought you could bluff us better alone."

  Barney said nothing. He simply stepped to the table and picked up a greasy

  pack of cards. He picked out four spades, showed them in his left hand, then dropped them faces upward.

  "Spread 'em out," said Barney. His voice had lost its boom and was taking on a drawl. "Show all of 'em, fella."

  His other paw showed sudden skill, as he made a deft sweep across the four

  cards. There they lay, spread wide, before the astonished eyes of Clip and the other lieutenants.

  Not four spades, but five!

  Only one other man could perform that gambler's trick to such perfection: Flush Tygert. To see it duplicated by the seemingly clumsy hand of Barney Kelm was proof of the visitor's real identity.

  Flush Tygert and Barney Kelm were the same. Like Jake Smarley, they were Five-face. Crime's new overlord was again with his lieutenants, displaying the third face in his collection.

  "QUITE a surprise, eh?" chortled Five-face, reverting to the boastful tone

  of Barney. "Maybe some of it needs explaining, so here goes. First I was Smarley, then I was Flush. The next step was to be Barney Kelm.

  "That's why I headed for the gym. But I couldn't shake The Shadow off the trail. It didn't worry me a lot, though. I had my boxing stable close to Lody's

  just in case that joint would come in handy, some day."

  The lieutenants began to understand. They realized how well the part of Barney Kelm fitted Five-face. It wasn't so much the matter of his disguise, though that detail was perfect. The important thing was that Barney Kelm was a rover, like Jake Smarley and Flush Tygert.

  As a bookie, Smarley had kept his office in his hat most of the time, and was often hard to find. Flush, the gambler, was in New York only between boat trips. Barney also traveled frequently, promoting fights throughout the country, and his friends heard from him only at intervals. All such factors were a tribute to the ingenuity of Five-face.

  It was plain, too, that Five-face had considered the welfare of his lieutenants, after he had robbed old Breddle. First Grease, then Banker, finally Clip, had left the caravan, like tail men in a game of crack the whip.

  Simply carrying the burden himself was not enough for Five-face. He had kept two thoughts in mind: to eliminate The Shadow, and to pin the blame on persons who knew nothing about him or his lieutenants.

  The crowd at Lody's were made to order for that little game. With another laugh, Five-face described the final touch that he had provided.

  "I was Barney when I ducked out of the cab," he boasted. "I bluffed the hackie into keeping on around the block. He thought I was still with him when he pulled up at Lody's. Meanwhile, I'd gone into the gym, by the back door.

  "I wish that Lody crowd had croaked The Shadow. I phoned the tip-off that started them in the right direction. When I saw that The Shadow had ducked out on them, I figured I might as well make myself a public hero.

  "So I gave the word to the boys, and they did the rest. I took the credit"

  - Barney dug his thumb against his chest - "and I'm going to play it to the limit! Say - if there's anybody that people will trust, it's Barney Kelm. What a set-up the next job will be!"

  Both Banker and Clip agreed. Their doubts of Five-face were completely dispelled. Eagerly, they looked forward to further service with this crime master who had covered their part in such skillful fashion. The only dissenting

  voice came from Grease.

  Rising unsteadily from the sofa, the oily faced lieutenant approached his chief.

  "Listen, Five-face," said Grease, thickly. "You're talking about the next job. What about the last one?"

  "You mean down at the Diamond Mart?"

  "That's it." Grease shook his glass, which he had reclaimed. The glass clinked, and Grease eyed the ice cubes that were in it. "I'm thinking about ice," he said. "Not ice cubes" - he pointed to the glass - "but another kind of

  ice. Diamonds!"

  Grease looked at Barney as though he expected the big-shot to disgorge a glittering shower. Barney shook his head and gave a bland smile.

  "I've just been with the police commissioner," he said. "I met a stuffed-shirt friend of his, a guy named Cranston. Old Breddle was there, too, and our pal Joe Cardona. I couldn't have lugged any sparklers along with me.

  "Suppose I'd pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket" - Barney illustrated the statement - "and spilled a lot of Breddle's rocks on the table. Don't worry

  about the diamonds. You'll get your split on them, when the time comes.

  Meanwhile -"

  Pausing, Barney produced a roll of bills. He began to peel off currency of

  high denomination, but soon he came to a thick batch of one-dollar bills.

  "There's a lot of leaves in this cabbage," said Barney, ruefully, "but they're mostly small. This is the wad I used to bluff Breddle. I can let you fellows have a grand or so - say twelve hundred bucks - to pay off your hired help.

  "The next job will be for cash. Real mazuma, and plenty of it! You'll hear

  from me when I'm ready, and it will be soon. This dough" - Barney distributed four hundred dollars each among the lieutenants - "will hold you over until then."

  GREASE RICKEL was standing stock-still as he received his share. The oily racketeer was staring at the curtain that blocked off the dinette. Grease thought that the curtain bulged; he remembered that there was another entrance to the apartment, by way of the kitchen.

  Lowering his gaze, Grease blinked at a patch of blackness on the floor.

  He

  thought that it formed a silhouette.

  Actually, Grease's imagination was at work, but his guess happened to be correct. The Shadow was behind that very curtain; he had entered by the rear route.

  The Shadow had overheard every word between the master crook and the lieutenants, and he had learned the name under which crime's overlord traveled.

  Five-face!

  Jake Smarley, Flush Tygert, Barney Kelm - those were three of the identities. A third crime was due, to be maneuvered by Barney Kelm. Afterward, a fourth crime, by some new personality. Then the fifth face -

  Forgetting the future, The Shadow concentrated on the present. Barney Kelm

  was leaving; it was just as well to let him go. Having found the three lieutenants, The Shadow could keep tabs on Barney Kelm.

  Easing back from the curtain, The Shadow was turning away, toward the kitchen, when he noted that Grease was going along with Barney, apparently to hold a conference in the hall.

  The Shadow waited; then, listening intently, he stirred the curtain. His lips gave a low whisper.

  Banker and Clip were counting their money. It was Banker who lifted his head.

  "Hear that, Clip?"

  "Out in the hall?" queried Clip. "It's only Grease talking to Barney."

  "What I heard came from the dinette -"

  Both thugs looked toward the curtain. They heard creeping sounds beyond.

  Banker made a quick leap, grabbed the heavy drapery, wrenching it from its hooks. As Banker sent the curtain to the floor in a tangle, Clip charged in with a drawn gun.

  Figures were lunging through the dinette, to meet the drive. Fortunately for them, Clip tripped across the curtain; otherwise he would have drilled his opposers. Losing his gun as he hit the floor, Clip was flattened by two adversaries, who grabbed Banker as he joined the pile-up.

  Men were rolling across the dinette, while a big voice boomed for them to quit the fight. Coming to hands and knees, Banker and Clip saw Barney Kelm facing them, with Grease seated on the floor beside the big-shot.

&
nbsp; Barney and Grease had come around through the kitchen, to see if anyone was hiding behind the curtain. The Shadow, hearing them, had lured Banker and Clip to an attack. The result had been a floundering fray involving Five-face and his lieutenants, which had almost ended in disaster.

  Grease was blaming Clip and Banker for the mix-up; they argued that the thing was his fault. Barney put an end to the altercation.

  "There's nobody here," growled Five-face. "Grease had too many drinks; that's all. But you fellows" - he swung to Clip and Banker - "didn't use your brains any too well. Lay off the dumb stuff in the future!"

  Five-face stalked out, the lieutenants following, all eager to curry favor

  with the big-shot and have him forget the misguided combat. The dinette looked quite empty; in fact, it was well lighted, because the glow from the living room now came through the wide doorway.

  A singular thing occurred. Silently, the crumpled curtain uncoiled itself.

  Out of the fallen drape emerged a figure clad in black: The Shadow. His ruse had

  deceived the crooks entirely. Caught between them, The Shadow had wrapped himself in the curtain and tumbled with it when Banker snatched it loose.

  His black cloak had not shown amid the snarl of dark velvet, which formed a sizable shroud when he had lain on the floor. Fixing the curtain to resemble its former crumple, The Shadow glided to the kitchen just as the lieutenants came back into the living room, from the hall.

  Five-face was gone; so was The Shadow. Their next meeting would come when crime was again on the move. Then would be the time when The Shadow could trap the supercrook in deeds that would lay bare the past and expose the methods that the evil master used.

  For the first time, the advantage would lie with The Shadow; but he did not regard victory as assured. Uncovering Five-face had been no simple matter; trapping him in crime might prove even more difficult.

  The Shadow knew!

  CHAPTER XII

  THE SUDDEN STROKE

  THREE faces were staring at The Shadow from the table in his sanctum.

  They

  were photographs, all different, yet they represented one man: Five-face.

  Jake Smarley, Flush Tygert, Barney Kelm -

  There would be two more, and that fact made The Shadow ponder. Nothing had

  been heard of Barney Kelm during the past week. Barney was still a public hero,

  yet he had vanished like Smarley and Flush.

  People acquainted with Barney said that he had gone on the road to promote

  some prize fights. Despite his bluster, Barney was a very modest and self-effacing chap, his friends claimed. He didn't like to be in the public eye. Too many people had pointed him out, so Barney had just dropped out of sight.

  The rumor did not please The Shadow.

  He knew how self-effacing Barney Kelm could be; that the man was able to obliterate his identity entirely. It was possible that Barney had dropped out of sight altogether. If so, The Shadow's plans for trapping a master criminal called Five-face would probably fade away to nothing.

  Reports from agents. The Shadow studied them beneath the blue glow. They were encouraging in one respect. Plans for future crime were being made by Five-face's lieutenants.

  The Shadow's agents were keeping close tally on Grease, Banker, and Clip.

  The lieutenants had spent nearly all the money that Five-face had given them, lining up thugs to be ready on call.

  Checking on such activities was an easy matter for certain of The Shadow's

  agents. One agent, Cliff Marsland, had quite a reputation in the underworld.

  For a long while, Cliff had been gunning for The Shadow and boasting about

  it to mobsters. Anyone who could get away with such talk in the badlands necessarily had to be tough. Naturally, Cliff's immunity existed because he was

  in The Shadow's service; but no one suspected the fact.

  Working on The Shadow's information, Cliff had met up with hoodlums who worked for Grease and Clip and had learned enough to give regular reports to The Shadow.

  Aiding Cliff was Hawkeye, a clever spotter who could follow a snake's trail through the grass. Hawkeye roved the toughest districts, spotting snipers

  who worked for Banker. His reports, though less frequent than Cliff's, were quite as reliable.

  Nevertheless, there was one question.

  Did the activity of the spendthrift lieutenants mean that Five-face actually intended new crime?

  At their last meeting, the lieutenants themselves had expressed doubts about Five-face. They had been ready to brand him a double-crosser, until he had appeared as Barney Kelm.

  They trusted him again, this time implicitly. Yet there was a chance that Five-face, playing the Barney role, had bluffed his lieutenants, after all -

  and had, at the same time, deceived The Shadow!

  Grim, sinister, The Shadow's laugh throbbed through the sanctum. The bluish light went off with a sharp click.

  The Shadow was not pleased by the idle week that he had spent. Unless this

  night developed something new in crime, he would have to change his policy and carry through a search for Five-face, rather than await the reappearance of Barney Kelm.

  Meanwhile, the evening promised one slight possibility. Perhaps a chat with Commissioner Weston would produce a trifling result. So far, the law had been going around in circles looking for Jake Smarley and Flush Tygert, always regarding them as separate individuals. Yet out of such a whirligig might come a flash of something worthwhile to The Shadow.

  REACHING the Cobalt Club in the guise of Cranston, The Shadow found the police commissioner poring over some recent reports, that might as well have been blank papers. Inspector Cardona was sitting by, poker-faced and taciturn.

  Weston finished his review of the reports and was about to say something, when an attendant entered bringing a note.

  "It's from Arnold Melbrun," stated Weston, after reading the message. "He wants me to meet him at his office. He will be there in half an hour. He says that the matter is urgent. Perhaps Melbrun has learned some new facts regarding

  Smarley."

  Concluding, the commissioner invited his friend Cranston to go along to Melbrun's office. The Shadow delayed long enough to telephone Burbank and learn

  that the agents had reported nothing new.

  Arriving at the offices of the United Import Co., the visitors were received by Melbrun's new secretary, Boland. He told them that he had heard from Melbrun, but knew nothing about the matter that was to be discussed.

  However, after the visitors had seated themselves in the private office, Boland

  remarked:

  "Mr. Melbrun received a special-delivery letter just after he returned from Norfolk, this afternoon. It was from that man they call the public hero."

  "Barney Kelm?" inquired Weston.

  "Yes," nodded the secretary. "Mr. Melbrun put the letter with some other correspondence from Kelm. I suppose that I could show it to you, commissioner."

  Before Weston could reply, the telephone bell rang. It was Melbrun, calling from his home; he had not been able to leave there as soon as he expected. He wanted to talk to Weston, if the commissioner had arrived. When Weston took the telephone, the first thing that Melbrun mentioned was the Kelm correspondence.

  "Get those letters, Boland," ordered Weston. "Mr. Melbrun wants to talk about them over the telephone."

  Soon, the letters were spread on the desk. In Cranston's casual style, The

  Shadow glanced over Weston's shoulder and noted what the letters said. It was apparent that Barney Kelm had taken advantage of his position as a public hero,

  as well as pushing his brief acquaintance with Melbrun.

  In the letters, Barney proposed that Melbrun and five other wealthy men contribute fifty thousand dollars each, toward the promotion of a championship prize fight to be held in the Middle West. Barney could guarantee them a high return upon their money, so he said.
A guarantee was needed to make the championship bout possible; after that, all would be plain sailing.

  Considering Barney's status, the commissioner saw nothing wrong with the proposal, and so stated to Melbrun. Listening, with quite different thoughts, The Shadow learned that Melbrun agreed with Weston. The thing that bothered Melbrun was another phase of the matter.

  Melbrun's voice was audible through the receiver; The Shadow caught every word, along with Weston.

  "Look at the last letter, commissioner," insisted Melbrun. "The one that came this afternoon. Kelm wanted us all to bring our money in cash. I arrived too late to go to the bank, so I decided to wait until I heard from Kelm again.

  "It seemed dangerous, having all that money loose. I wanted to tell Kelm so. If such men as Jake Smarley or Flush Tygert should hear of it, they would attempt another of their daring crimes. Then it occurred to me that you should be the person to warn Kelm."

  There was a pause. Weston inserted the words:

  "Quite so, Melbrun."

  "I was just about to leave the house," continued Melbrun, "when I received

  a call from Kelm. He tells me that he is at the Hotel Clairmont; that the other

  five financiers are with him. They have all brought their money, and are simply

  waiting for me."

  "Did you tell Kelm you would come?"

  "Yes," returned Melbrun. "I told him to wait; to do nothing until I arrived. It will take me at least twenty minutes to reach the hotel, commissioner. But you are nearer; you could get there in a quarter hour."

  "I'll see you there, Melbrun."

  HANGING up, Weston turned to Cardona. The commissioner expostulated on the

  importance of the news.

  Meanwhile The Shadow, glancing toward the window, saw a blink of lights below. Moe's cab had parked in the side street; the driver was flashing a signal. Unnoticed, The Shadow strolled from the office.

  "Suppose that crooks have been watching Barney Kelm," Weston was saying.

  "They might be watching him, too, hoping on revenge because of what he did to them at Lody's. If so, they have learned of tonight's transaction. Call headquarters, inspector, and order some picked men to meet us at the Clairmont.

  We must start there, at once."