Shadowed Millions

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 tonight,” 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. Desmond, treading on air, left and strode along the corridor.

“Good-by,” he heard Zelva say.

He did not know that the remark was a signal. Scarcely had Zelva stepped back into his room; hardly had Desmond made the turn in the corridor before a door opened and a stoop-shouldered, sallow-faced man took up the trail. It was Pesano, one of Zelva’s watchdogs.

Having thus made precaution regarding Desmond’s actions, Rodriguez Zelva forgot the matter. He had important matters to which he must attend.

THE master schemer had already evolved his plan — a fact which he had mentioned to Frank Desmond. Sitting at a writing desk, he carefully prepared a wireless message, in code. Going to the telephone, he called his other faithful watcher, Ellsdorff, who replied in a guttural voice. Zelva gave him the message.

Minutes went by. They became hours. It was late afternoon when the telephone rang in Zelva’s room. Ellsdorff spoke and Zelva wrote down the words that the man gave.

Looking at what he had written, the ingenious South American laughed cruelly. By simple artifice and quick, decisive action, he had accomplished all that was necessary. Only one slight point remained, now, to complete the action he had planned.

Zelva went to the telephone. He called and was connected with Pete Ballou at the Hotel Oriental.

“Do not wait until midnight,” he said. “Strike before nine o’clock. Shortly after eight will be best. It must be a surprise. You understand? Wait for the dark.”

Zelva smiled with satisfaction as he completed the call. Now, if Alvarez Legira should mistrust Frank Desmond, it would make no difference. A telephone call from Legira to Lopez could do no good. Ballou would act before Lopez.

Perry Wallace and Lopez were but pawns in this game. Yet to Zelva, who could move men like chess pieces, pawns were important and dangerous. He intended to leave none on the board.

Master schemer though he was, Rodriguez Zelva did not know that The Shadow had a hand in this strange complication of events. But what could hidden hands do now?

The treachery of Frank Desmond — something which even The Shadow had not anticipated — had completely changed the tide. Alvarez Legira no longer held the edge in his crafty battle with Zelva. All was in Zelva’s favor.

The Shadow remained only as an unknown quantity. For some reason he was playing a passive game. Yet only his hand, thrust from the dark, could possibly alter the cross purposes that were at work.

The Shadow was watching Legira; but he had eliminated Zelva as a factor. Ten million dollars at stake and lives to be lost in the gaining of it.

For once The Shadow was faced by a problem of which he had no inkling!