Crooks Go Straight

CHAPTER XXI. STRATEGY BY NIGHT

PERRY DELHUGH had been crafty from the time when Lamont Cranston had been announced as a visitor. Adhering to an appearance of genuine honesty, he had let The Shadow bring up the subject of Steve Zurk.

In fact, Delhugh had definitely avoided mentioning that Steve had called up earlier to cancel his usual Friday evening appointment. In every way, the master crook had worked to retain The Shadow’s confidence.

Delhugh had played a skillful game of crime. He was the sponsor, the actual author, of instructions that went to Beak Latzo. He was using Steve Zurk as an instrument to gain Beak’s aid.

Posing as benefactor to two ex-crooks, Delhugh had pretended that he was setting them along an honest path. Actually, he had deliberately made a secret offer to one of the pardoned convicts, inducing him to return to secret crime.

Delhugh had gained a willing tool who had the ability to work with him. The Shadow, entering the game, had gained goods on Beak Latzo. The Shadow had also found facts regarding Steve Zurk. Then Delhugh had blocked The Shadow.

Delhugh, real brain behind crime, pretended philanthropist who had used benefactions merely as a build-up toward a career of master crookery — he was a man who now enjoyed an evil triumph. Delhugh had bluffed The Shadow. He had caught the master investigator unawares.

But the very strategy that had enabled Delhugh to capture The Shadow also made it impossible for the crook to immediately eliminate his helpless foe. Delhugh, in his private life, kept clear of crooks.

Benzig — Chilton — these servants of his were honest men.

Had they been crooks, The Shadow would have spotted it. He would then have been wary of Delhugh.

He would not have met the treacherous philanthropist as man to man. The Shadow had walked into a snare only because Delhugh had refrained from keeping criminals as members of his household.

Thus the cleverness that had enabled Delhugh to trick The Shadow now forced the master crook to act with caution. Chilton had heard suspicious sounds from the cellar. Delhugh had lulled the servant with an explanation. But Delhugh, even had he been so inclined, could not have risked a revolver shot down in the cellar.

The Shadow still lived; and Delhugh, true to his policy of letting others do the dirty work, intended to have crooks dispose of their arch foe. He planned to keep Benzig and Chilton unalarmed, to make those honest servants serve him with alibis as he might need them.

REACHING the empty study, Delhugh closed the door behind him. He picked up the telephone on his desk. He dialed a number. He heard an answering response. Delhugh began to speak in a quick, cautious tone.

“I’ve bagged The Shadow,” he informed. “No, not dead, but helpless… A prisoner. In a big box in the coal bin… Center of the cellar…”

A pause. Questions were coming over the wire. Delhugh answered.

“Get a note through at once… Yes, deliver it in person at Dangler’s office… Yes, Lucky will be sure to go there before he and Beak start out…

“That’s the idea. Have them split tonight… Beak goes to Daykin’s house, with a small crew… Yes, Lucky can come here… With the rest of the mob… Yes, they’ll have to grab Vincent, too.

“Benzig is going out with me… Dinner downtown. I’m giving Chilton and the cook the night off… That’s right… Right… Right… That’s the way for Lucky to work it… He’ll understand.

“Yes, Benzig and I shall come to Dangler’s later. I shall look for you there… Good… Very good… You will be covered perfectly…”

Delhugh completed the telephone call. His square face was gleaming as he sat at the desk. Reaching into the drawer, the master crook removed certain papers and placed them in his pocket. Leering lips showed that Delhugh was formulating final schemes of new crime.

OUTSIDE the brownstone mansion, Benzig was speaking to the chauffeur in the limousine. The secretary was informing Stanley that Mr. Cranston intended to remain a while at Delhugh’s. The car was to go to the club.

Stanley was not one of The Shadow’s agents. The chauffeur merely regarded his master as an eccentric person who was likely to change plans at any time. Hence Stanley nodded in agreement with Benzig’s order. He turned on the ignition and prepared to leave with the limousine.

As the big car started, Benzig turned back toward the house. At that moment, an approaching pedestrian stopped short some thirty yards away from the brownstone mansion.

The arrival was Harry Vincent, coming for his evening’s work at Delhugh’s.

In his contact with The Shadow, Harry knew that his chief was playing the part of Cranston. Hence the sight of the limousine told him that The Shadow was at Delhugh’s. The fact that Benzig was dismissing the car without a passenger indicated that The Shadow had remained.

The situation struck Harry as unusual. Trained to use keen judgment in such cases, Harry decided that it would be a poor play to enter the house immediately. So he strolled back along the street, chose a good lingering spot and lighted a cigarette.

One smoke ended, Harry began another. At the end of a third cigarette, he glanced at his watch and decided that at least a quarter hour had elapsed. Turning forward, Harry approached the house and ascended the steps.

Chilton answered Harry’s ring. Benzig appeared, nodded, and conducted the visitor up to the filing room.

As soon as Harry was settled there, Benzig continued on and rapped at the door of Delhugh’s study.

Inside, Delhugh glanced at the clock on his desk. He smiled. The time interval between Benzig’s dismissal of the limousine and the signal of Harry’s arrival seemed proof that Harry could not have seen the departing car. Delhugh arose and left the study.

Benzig had gone downstairs. Delhugh knocked at the door of the filing room. Harry opened it. Delhugh greeted him with a beaming smile.

“Ah, Vincent,” greeted Delhugh. “Back at work again, I see. How long will you be here this evening?”

“Until midnight,” replied Harry.

“Quite all right,” decided Delhugh. “Benzig and I are going out to dinner, so I am giving the servants the evening off. However, we shall be back by eleven, before your time to leave. You do not mind working alone here?”

“Not at all, Mr. Delhugh.”

“Good evening, then.”

Delhugh went downstairs. He walked back to the kitchen, where he found Chilton and the cook. Benzig, seeing Delhugh’s arrival, followed.

“Chilton,” said Delhugh, “we shall not require those bottles of Tokay. Benzig and I are going out to dinner. You and the cook may have the evening off.”

“Thank you, sir,” returned Chilton.

“What about Mr. Cranston?” queried Benzig.

“He intends to work a while with Vincent,” informed Delhugh, smoothly. “When he leaves, Vincent will show him out.”

“And Vincent?”

“Expects to be here when we return at eleven. Come. Benzig. We must start at once. Call a taxicab.”

FIVE minutes later, Delhugh and his secretary departed.

Twenty minutes after that, Harry, listening by the door of the filing room, heard Chilton and the cook make their departure. A deep silence pervaded the house.

Harry stole from the filing room. He approached the door of Delhugh’s study. He rapped softly and received no response. He opened the door and entered. Harry looked about, puzzled. No one was in the room.

Had Harry not been convinced that The Shadow was still here, the finding of an empty study would not have troubled him. Delhugh, in leaving, did not care whether or not Harry chose to prowl about. For Delhugh was convinced that Harry thought the house was empty.

Harry, however, thought otherwise. His perplexity became anxiety. He went to Delhugh’s desk, picked up the telephone and put in a call to Burbank. He made a brief report.

Burbank’s quiet voice showed no alarm; yet it was questioning. For Harry’s report was not the first that Burbank had received. There had been another, previously, from Cliff Marsland.

Yet Burbank had tried both the sanctum and the Cobalt Club without response from The Shadow. Until now, that had not troubled Burbank. Sometimes The Shadow deliberately let reports rest until he needed them.

Harry’s report, however, placed a most unusual angle to the situation. Burbank, like Harry, could not fully understand the reason for the dismissal of Lamont Cranston’s limousine. Steady questions came across the wire. Harry answered them.

Burbank gave directions. This was within his province. There had been times when Burbank had directed the work of agents during The Shadow’s absence. His present orders were ones that Harry could carry out without causing damage to any plans that The Shadow might have.

“Orders received,” acknowledged Harry, when Burbank’s voice had finished. “Will report back every fifteen minutes.”

Hanging up the receiver, Harry went from the study. In the hallway, he drew a revolver from his pocket.

He closed the door of the filing room; then stole to the head of the grand stairway.

The place was filled with oppressive silence. Not a living sound disturbed the massive residence. The home of Perry Delhugh seemed like a house of doom.

Tensely, Harry proceeded down the stairs, clutching his revolver as he went. Something was wrong within these sullen walls; and to Harry Vincent belonged the task of learning what it was.