The Blue Sphinx

CHAPTER XVII THE BAD BREAK

“SO you were talking to Mushmug, eh?”

Cliff Marsland heard Konk Zitz put the question to the gorilla called “Dopey.” Cliff and Tinker had just returned from dinner, to find Konk holding court with a couple of his thugs.

“Sure, Konk,” said Dopey, taking a cigarette from his pasty lips. “He started to talk to me; so I talked to him.”

“What did he have to say?”

“Nothin’ much. Kinda soundin’ me out about the crew. I told him we was just vacationin’ here. Liked the climate — that’s what I said.”

“What else?”

“Nothin’ else. I dodged one question that he handed me.”

“What was that?”

“About this guy Drury.”

Konk became interested. Cliff saw a gleam in the big shot’s ratlike eyes, as Konk rasped the question:

“What did he ask about Drury?”

“Wanted to know why the guy was gettin’ so chummy with birds like you an’ me,” returned Dopey, promptly. “I told him I didn’t know nothin’ about Drury. Said I hadn’t noticed him much aroun’ here.”

“What did Mushmug say to that?”

“Nothin’, because I didn’t give him no chance. I walked out on him. Told him I’d be back later.”

Konk arose from his chair. He turned to Tinker Furris and put a question.

“Is Mushmug the only gumshoe hanging around here?” asked the crook leader.

“All I’ve seen,” returned Tinker.

“Same here,” affirmed Cliff.

“All right,” decided Konk. “I’ve got an idea — just to figure if the guy’s a plant. We’re going out tonight. You two” — he pointed to Tinker and Cliff — “and myself. We’ll use the back route, by the freight elevator. I’ve got it fixed.

“The rest of you stick here, all except Dopey. I’ll let him go down and stall Mushmug. Some phony talk about Drury. Tinker, you and Marsland go out by the back and make sure it’s clear. You other fellows go downstairs a while, until I’ve finished talking with Dopey. When he shows up, it means I’m out and you’re to come back here. Start your poker game. I won’t be gone long.”

The men nodded and strolled from the room. Cliff and Tinker followed, leaving Dopey alone with Konk Zitz. Tinker led the way to the freight elevator. A wise-looking operator took them aboard. Konk had fixed this hotel employee.

OUT in the darkness of an alleyway behind the Phoenix Hotel, Cliff and Tinker waited for a full fifteen minutes before Konk Zitz joined them. He beckoned them off to a parking lot. They entered a sedan. Konk took the wheel and drove without comment.

Reaching an isolated part of town, Konk told the pair to wait. They saw him stroll down a side street and stop by a coupe that was obscured beyond a hedge. When Konk returned, he was carrying a suitcase. Cliff and Tinker were in the back seat of the sedan, so Konk dropped the bag beside him in the front.

He drove a few blocks and pulled up by a deserted house. Alighting with the suitcase, he whispered to the others to follow him. They went past the empty house and came to the back door of another home where a dim light showed from an upstairs window. Konk tried a key in the back door. He found no difficulty in entering.

Using a flashlight, Konk found a room near the center of the ground floor. He brought the others in with him and ordered them to lower the blinds. This done, Konk flashed his light upon a safe in the corner. With a chuckle, he ordered Tinker to close the door.

Konk turned on a light and revealed a desk close by the safe. He placed the suitcase there.

“Do you know whose house this is?” he questioned, in a low tone.

Headshakes from Cliff and Tinker. They had stayed close to the Phoenix Hotel since their arrival in Latuna.

“This,” chuckled Konk, “is where the smart aleck editor lives. You know the mug I mean. Harrison Knode.”

Cliff and Tinker were genuinely surprised.

“Knode is up at that hearing,” resumed Konk. “There’s a housekeeper here; but she’s upstairs and won’t hear us — if we’re quiet. Listen, now, while I tell you the lay.

“Maybe Knode’s got something on us.” Cliff detected a peculiar wariness in Konk’s tone. “Maybe that’s why he’s had Drury hanging around the Phoenix. Whatever Knode’s got, will be in this safe. So I’m going to take a look in it.”

“Why the suitcase, Konk?” questioned Tinker.

“Well,” replied the leader. “I wanted to make sure, that’s all. Maybe I won’t be able to tap this box. If I fail, I’ll use drills. They’re in that bag. I didn’t want to have them around the hotel. I had a guy plant them in a car near here.”

As Konk paused, Cliff felt positive that he was holding back something. That, however, was a habit of Konk’s. Of one thing, Cliff was sure. This visit to Knode’s was not the blow-off. That was still set for tomorrow night.

“I brought you fellows,” stated Konk, “so you could keep an eye on the doors. It may take me some time, to do this job. I don’t want to use the drills if I can help it. Say, Tinker, it’s too bad you didn’t bring that bird Tapper along to Latuna.”

“To open that box for you, Konk?”

“Sure. I could have used a guy like him.”

“What about Cliff here?”

“Can he crack a safe?”

“Better than Tapper.”

“Say — what’ve you been holding back?”

Tinker shifted uneasily as he caught Konk’s beady glare. Then the pock-faced fellow gave a weak grin.

“IT was this way, Konk,” he explained. “When I couldn’t get Tapper, I heard about Cliff. I wanted to see if he had the goods. So he and I slid into an old hock shop I knew about and he took a hand at the box. That’s right, ain’t it, Cliff?”

Cliff nodded. He knew that Tinker did not want to admit planning a job of his own without Konk’s knowledge. It was best to stick with Tinker, Cliff decided.

“Yeah?” quizzed Konk. “Well — how’d you make out?”

“Cliff opened the box,” explained Tinker, slowly. “But then The Shadow showed up.”

“The Shadow?”

“Yeah. Nearly rubbed me out, too! Only Cliff plugged him and we made a getaway.”

“Wait a minute. Marsland here plugged The Shadow?”

“I just clipped him,” put in Cliff. “We had to scram without the swag.”

“It wasn’t worth much,” added Tinker. “We was just practicing on that box.”

“So you came to Latuna,” growled Konk, “when you had The Shadow on your trail!”

“He wasn’t on our trail,” said Tinker, quickly. “Honest, Konk. He had to duck the bulls himself. He ain’t been around here, The Shadow hasn’t.”

“No telling where that guy may be.”

“Well, anyway” — Tinker sought to change the subject — “Cliff here can tap that box in no time. If you let him crack it, Konk, you’ll have more time to go through the safe while Cliff and I are watching the doors.”

Konk Zitz nodded. He eyed Cliff carefully, then pointed to the safe.

“Go to it, Marsland,” he ordered. “Let’s see you work.”

“Got the microscope, Cliff?” quizzed Tinker.

Cliff shook his head as he stepped toward the safe. He heard Zitz speak to Tinker.

“A microscope?” Konk was asking. “What for?”

“To look for finger prints,” replied Tinker. “If he finds them, he leaves them, instead of polishing the knob. Great gag, ain’t it, Konk?”

“Get going, Marsland,” said Konk, to Cliff.

COLD sweat crept to Cliff’s forehead as The Shadow’s agent crouched in front of the safe. Luck alone could save him now. Cliff had some knowledge of cracksmanship; if the safe proved easy, he would appear to be living up to Tinker’s claims. If not — The thought of consequences was one that Cliff tried to forget.

Under other circumstances, Cliff could have taken sudden action. He could hear Tinker buzzing a whisper to Konk Zitz, adding new details of that episode in Cobleton’s hock shop. It would be a cinch, Cliff knew, to pull his automatic and cover these two rogues.

That, however, would ruin The Shadow’s plans. It would mean a fight, a break-up of Konk Zitz’s crew. Behind this little crook was some supercrook whom The Shadow sought. That crime dealer could be trapped only if his plans were allowed to reach their climax. Cliff’s only course was to bluff Konk Zitz.

Steadily, despite his tenseness, Cliff worked on the combination. He recognized that this safe was not a difficult one for a cracksman; but it was beyond his ability to open it. Cliff had no microscopic instructions awaiting him tonight.

Minutes passed; still Cliff toiled. He could hear Konk buzzing to Tinker. The tone was ominous. Cliff decided that the time had arrived for verbal bluff.

“It ought to be a cinch, Konk,” he said, in a low, steady voice. “It isn’t, though. One of these tricky boxes that looks easy but gets tougher the longer you work on it.”

“I know,” responded Konk, in an assuring tone. “Let me take a stab at it, Marsland.

Cliff arose and turned about. He thought that his bluff was working until he faced his companions. Then Cliff became rigid, his arms half extended, his hands and fingers motionless.

The Shadow’s agent was staring into the muzzles of two revolvers.

Konk Zitz had drawn his .38. He had buzzed an order to Tinker to do the same. Konk’s eyes were venomous as they stared through narrow slitted lids. Tinker’s pockmarked face was ugly in its evil leer.

“A SAFE cracker, eh?” snarled Konk. “Say — a punk could open that box! I’ve been listening to Tinker’s spiel. You pulled a fast one on him, Marsland, but it don’t get by with me!

“You clipped The Shadow, eh? Put him out of the fight; but didn’t cripple him enough to keep him from making a getaway. That don’t wash! Well, I’m wise to your game! That stunt of yours was framed.

“Plenty of guys know that The Shadow has mugs working for him. They never figured who his stoolies were. But we’ve spotted one of them. You’re the bird! It don’t take a mind reader to figure that. The way you flopped on this safe proves it.

“You were working with The Shadow in New York. He fixed that safe in the hock shop. Put the fritz on Tinker’s game and let you look like a hot-shot so that Tinker would bring you down here to crimp me.”

Cliff made no response. He met Konk’s vicious stare. The crook snarled a low laugh.

“Maybe you tipped The Shadow already,” suggested Zitz. “Maybe he’s going to show up here to stop the blow-off tomorrow night. Well — we’ll fox that bimbo. We’ll pull the blow-off tonight!

“You’ll go along with us, Marsland. And remember, it won’t do you no good to try a break. I could blot you right here; or in the car; or anywhere along the line. I’m just going to keep you for a while because it’ll work that way.

“If you get funny, it means a bump for you. And you won’t gain nothing, because a few shots and your dead corpse aren’t going to queer the blow-off. We can pull it anyhow, even if you do try to start trouble.”

Turning to Tinker, Konk gave a nod. Tinker stepped past Cliff and shoved his revolver against the prisoner’s ribs. With Konk close in back of him, Tinker marched Cliff out through the back door and past the empty house.

“Climb in,” growled Konk, as they reached the sedan. As he spoke, the big shot found Cliff’s automatic and yanked it from Cliff’s pocket.

Cliff entered the sedan. Tinker jostled in beside him and kept his gat against Cliff’s ribs. Konk whispered an order to his pock-faced henchman:

“Hold him here, Tinker,” said the crook leader. “I’m going back and crack that box. If Marsland makes trouble, plug him and I’ll join you in a hurry. We can scram and dump him somewhere.”

Konk departed. Cliff sat tight, indifferent to Tinker’s sullen glare. Cliff knew that this was no time for a break. Konk’s threat had been no bluff.

Death loomed in the offing. Cliff’s only bet was to prolong the interval. Konk would prefer to hold the matter of his execution until after the blow-off, whatever it might be. The leader would have to make new plans. By sitting tight, Cliff could learn them.

No chance to reach The Shadow. Cliff knew that he would have to make the break for himself. But he decided definitely to hold it until the final opportunity. Then, if luck enabled him to make an escape, he would know more about Konk Zitz’s game.

Yet Cliff harbored little hope for safety. This situation was one that he had long anticipated. It was the worst jam that he had ever encountered in The Shadow’s service. At the same time, Cliff could not forget the miraculous ability of The Shadow. Time and again, that master fighter had intervened to save his aids from the brink of doom.

FIFTEEN minutes passed. Then Konk appeared from the darkness, carrying the suitcase which he had left at Knode’s. He laughed gruffly as he climbed behind the wheel and laid the bag beside him.

“Didn’t have to use the drills,” he informed Tinker. “That box wasn’t tough. Knode’s got nothing on us. Keep your gat steady, Tinker.”

Konk drove the car by a circuitous course until he neared the Phoenix Hotel. He parked the car in a space between an empty garage and a dilapidated wooden building. He alighted, and growled another order for Tinker to watch Cliff.

Konk strolled away and headed for the hotel. He was snarling to himself as he walked along; and he acted in pleased fashion. He had left the car far enough from the hotel. If Cliff tried a break, Tinker could give him the works without bringing coppers to the scene.

The crook leader entered the Phoenix Hotel by the rear entrance. He strolled into the lobby, looked about and nodded as he spied Bart Drury. The reporter had arrived for his chat. Konk strolled up to Bart.

“Have a cigar, Drury,” he offered. “Been waiting long?”

Drury shook his head.

“Slide up to the room,” suggested Konk. “The boys are having a poker game. They know you’re coming. I’ll be up.”

Drury arose and went to the elevator. Konk lighted a cigar of his own. As he did, he delivered a sidelong glance toward the taproom. He saw Dopey standing with the detective, “Mushmug.” They had heard the words which Konk had spoken to Drury.

Konk strolled into the taproom. He stopped in feigned surprise, as he saw his henchman talking with the dick. A frown showed on Konk’s face; then he grinned.

“Thought you were upstairs, Dopey,” said Konk. “That’s where I’m going. The poker game ought to be running high right now. How about you?” — this was to Mushmug — “Ever play any poker?”

The dick shook his head.

“Too bad,” observed Konk. “I was going to invite you up. Well, I’ll see you later. You’ll be dropping up later, Dopey?”

“In about half an hour, Konk.”

Konk turned and went back into the lobby. His lips formed a sour leer as he neared the elevator. He had talked with Dopey before. The underling knew what to do. He was to stall Mushmug while Konk and the crew departed by the rear exit of the hotel.

After that, Dopey would shake the detective and make his own departure to join one lone, waiting crook. Thus Konk Zitz’s outfit would be complete, ready for the blow-off which Konk had set twenty-four hours ahead of schedule.