The Crime Crypt

CHAPTER XI. THE SHADOW’S PART

NINE o’clock. The home of Brisbane Calbot, an old-fashioned brick structure, showed gloomily in the semidarkness of a side street.

It was a building that no one would have suspected as a place where valuables could be found. In fact, that was one reason why Brisbane Calbot kept this old house. He did not want to be annoyed by intruders who might come to rob; and the fact that his place was so inconspicuous made it an ideal location.

A patch of blackness appeared beneath the light of a street lamp. It paused there, and its shape became that of a human silhouette. Shown in profile, the brim of a hat projected above a hawklike nose. That silhouette was the symbol of a living presence; yet no figure appeared in the darkness near the lamp.

The black patch moved. It blended with the darkness of the street. A slight swish was all that announced a motion in the gloom. A strange, invisible creature was moving toward Brisbane Calbot’s old house. The Shadow had arrived before men of crime.

There was a cement passage beside the old house. That was the course which The Shadow took; yet no eyes — unless they had possessed the sharpness of The Shadow’s own — could have spied the progress of this mystic visitant.

The dull whiteness of a side door was blotted by a grotesque blackness that covered it. The door was heavy; though its outer surface did not show it, the barrier was held from within by formidable fastenings.

Slight clicks occurred in the darkness. Slow minutes passed. At last the door yielded to The Shadow’s skill. The barrier opened. The Shadow entered. The locks tightened again as an unseen hand threw them with scarcely a telltale sound.

Traveling through a passage, The Shadow spied a single light in a side room. He stalked to the door. His tall form threw a long streak of blackness across the threshold. That darkened, flattened length became immovable. It was not noticed by a man who sat reading at a little table.

Brisbane Calbot was a middle-aged man whose appearance gave him the air of a recluse. He was totally engrossed in his reading; and the volume which he held showed that he was engaged in study. The walls of the room were lined with odd books in dusty bindings.

SATISFIED that Calbot was completely oblivious of what passed about him, The Shadow moved away from the open doorway. He moved through a passage. A tiny light, its circle of illumination no larger than a silver dollar, became the medium through which he found a low, locked door. This was obviously the entrance to the basement.

The Shadow’s pick went to work. The lock yielded. The Shadow opened the door, pointed his flashlight down a flight of steps and descended, locking the door behind him.

The basement proved to be a formidably protected place. The iron gratings that covered the small windows were such that no one could have opened them without long trouble and considerable noise. A locked door drew The Shadow to it. He opened this barrier as he had the others. He stepped into Calbot’s curio room.

Iron shutters guarded this place. The room was large and well-stocked with all sorts of oddities. The Shadow, knowing that his presence here could not possibly be detected, turned on a light. His spectral form made a grotesque figure in this unusual room.

Suits of armor, curious weapons of many descriptions, iron statues, urns and pedestals — these were the assortment of oddities through which The Shadow stepped. The room was in disarray; and it was obvious that the weight of the objects themselves made them inviolate to thieving hands.

It would have required a group of moving men with a van to carry away Calbot’s collection. Stealth and subterfuge could not avail with this huge lot of curios.

The far wall, however, showed a door that fitted tightly. It was the barrier to a vault. The Shadow approached it and began to work. The vault was a formidable obstacle. The black glove came from The Shadow’s left hand. The girasol glimmered while long, sensitive fingers tried the knobs.

One minute passed; two — three — The Shadow’s skill was rewarded. The door of the vault came open.

Glittering metal sent back flashes as The Shadow gazed. Within the large vault stood two guardian statues. One was as black as ebony; the other statue was as white as ivory.

Heavily bedecked with metal, these rare idols were safe without their vault. A whispered laugh told The Shadow’s thought. Three men could not carry one of these heavy pagan gods. Yet Brisbane Calbot had placed them in the vault, probably because of their tremendous value.

On the floor between the idols — set as though it belonged to the statues and was in their care — a glittering object rested upon a low pedestal. It was a golden scroll, inscribed with curious characters in Arabic.

Each line was illuminated with sparkling gems.

Stooping, The Shadow formed a shroud which blocked off the light that shone upon this treasure. His tiny flashlight glimmered. It showed the uppermost line of the scroll. It moved along from word to word while keen eyes followed.

The Shadow was reading the Arabic inscription as easily as if it had been English. He was deciphering it word by word, perusing its mystic message. The flashlight’s glimmer continued until it had reached the final statement of the inscription.

FROM hidden lips came a whispered laugh that sounded like hollow mockery within the opened vault.

The legend purported that this was the sacred scroll from the Kaaba in Mecca, that cube-shaped building that stands within the holy place called the Haram, and which houses the Black Stone venerated by all Mohammedans.

A sacred scroll from the Kaaba! That was the reason for The Shadow’s sardonic mirth. The theft of such a scroll would be as difficult as the purloining of the Black Stone itself. Had this scroll ever rested within the Kaaba, its disappearance would have stirred tumult through all Islam!

The Shadow knew that Brisbane Calbot’s treasure was a fake. Someone had duped the old collector.

This was not all that The Shadow divined. He knew also that this spurious scroll could be the only object which men of crime might be seeking at Brisbane Calbot’s.

Crooks were coming to take false treasure. Paste jewels on plated gold; that was all that they could gain.

Yet this, to The Shadow, was more important than the discovery of an object of real value.

His keen mind was tracing backward. Criminals intended to take a false treasure from a man who had been swindled when he obtained it. How had the crooks learned of this hidden scroll? Who had foisted it upon Brisbane Calbot?

The Shadow was connecting the approaching robbery with the two that had gone before. The police had advanced the theory that the robbery at Trappe’s and the invasion at Bogart’s had resulted in the theft of unknown wealth on each occasion. The Shadow, himself, had glimpsed a golden panel in the arms of Fingers Keefel, when the crook had escaped from Tyler Bogart’s.

That was all The Shadow needed. He knew the truth. The crooks were at work to reclaim fake curios; to cover up the traces of some swindler who had operated in the past. Fingers Keefel would be here tonight. The Shadow could frustrate him. But would the saving of this valueless scroll be an accomplishment of import?

Again, The Shadow laughed. His tall form rose. It stood like a gigantic shroud. The black glove slid over the left hand. The girasol was hidden. The Shadow closed the door of Brisbane Calbot’s vault.

Stalking through the curio room, The Shadow traversed the way that he had come. He locked the door behind him. He ascended the stairs, unlocked the door at the top and relocked it from the passage. He moved beyond the open doorway of the room where Brisbane Calbot was poring over an antique volume. The Shadow merged with darkness.

Minutes passed. The hour of ten was approaching. The Shadow, however, expected action before that hour. As he waited in the silence of a darkened room, he knew that crime would soon be under way.

The faint whisper of a laugh sounded in suppressed tones. Strange crime would come to a head tonight; and The Shadow was ready to play a part that he had chosen!