The Crime Cult

CHAPTER XVII CARDONA ATTACKS

CLIFF MARSLAND and Dip Riker were sitting on the stone floor of a little room. They were in the warehouse directly opposite the secret entrance to Henri Zayata’s abode. They had been here for more than two hours, waiting.

Cliff knew that they were on a landing that was situated in a converted air shaft. A hole at the side of the room formed the entrance for the ladder by which they had ascended to this spot — at least twenty feet above the alleyway.

But why they were here, and what was about to transpire, were two mysteries which Cliff had not yet solved.

The small room was in darkness. The only opening, other than the ladder shaft, was a narrow slit in the will, some four feet above the floor. The place was in total darkness.

Some one was coming up the ladder. Instinctively, Cliff reached for his automatic. He felt Dip Riker’s hand grasp his arm.

“It’s Flash,” whispered Dip. “He’s come to give us the lay—”

A moment later, Flash Donegan was with the two men. Dip Riker responded to his chief’s low greeting. Cliff was tense now. He sensed that an explanation was forthcoming in regard to tonight’s strange operations. It was his duty to pretend to work with this gang up to a crucial point; and he felt that the climax was approaching.

“We’re all set,” declared Flash Donegan. “Things are going to happen soon, and we’ve all got jobs ahead of us. Listen, while I spring the dope:

“Lance is at one end of the alley. Gringo Butz is at the other. Tony Caprona is in the middle. They’ve let all the guys through — the ones that gave the signal. Now there’s trouble coming, and we’re going to fight it out.

“A few night ago, Lance and his gorillas knocked off a bird called Crazy Louie. Last night they bumped a guy named Snooper Perry. I’ll tell you what those bimbos were. Stools, that’s what — stools that Joe Cardona sent out to trail Gringo Butz and Tony Caprona.”

A surprised ejaculation came from Dip Riker.

“Last night,” went on Flash, speaking hastily, “you and I had an important job, Marsland. I called the big shot — the fellow that’s behind all this — and tipped him off. He told me to meet him.

“He and I did the job. He bumped off one guy, and I nabbed another. Listen, Dip: The guy I nailed was that same one you let get away from you.”

“Vincent?” questioned Dip, amazed. “The Shadow’s stool?”

“Yeah. I turned him over to the big shot. Maybe he’s gotten the works by now. That’s why I called you, Dip, and had you meet Marsland, at the Club Yama. I couldn’t get there.”

MATTERS were clearing up in Cliff’s mind. He had been wondering why Flash Donegan had not shown up — why Dip Riker had come in his place. The mention of Harry Vincent chilled him.

Was Harry still a captive, or was he dead? Cliff wondered if The Shadow knew.

“Meanwhile,” said Flash, “Lance and his gorillas were laying here, and they bumped off Snooper Perry. That gave Cardona an idea about this alleyway of ours, because he had a dick watching Snooper.

“I got a tip-off late this afternoon. That’s why I called you, Dip, and told you to bring Marsland up here.”

“I getcha,” responded Dip. “Cardona’s goin’ to raid, is he?”

“That’s the straight dope,” declared Flash emphatically. “What’s more, the guy that gave me the tip-off told me something else.

“Cardona got a phone call from somewhere. Somebody wised him up that it would be a good hunch to raid the warehouse across the way. He knows that we’re guarding an entrance there.”

“Who tipped off Cardona?” quizzed Dip. “The Shadow?”

The question brought a thrill of hope to Cliff Marsland. He knew that no one but The Shadow could have obtained such important information; and also that Joe Cardona would not act on any ordinary word from an anonymous source.

“I don’t know who tipped him off,” said Flash, “but I’ve got my orders from the big shot. We’re going to blow the works. Any copper that shows his mug goes the voyage.

“Now, here’s the lay: I’m going to the end of the alley by the garage room and stay there. You go to the other end, Dip, and stick behind that iron door on the edge of the alley.

“That sends Lance Bolero and Gringo Butz to the center. Tony Caprona is dragging stuff in from my car. He’ll have everything ready for the three of them. When the dicks try to crash that alley, they’ll hit trouble.

“I think the big shot’s going to blow, after tonight. We’re going to wipe out Cardona and his squad. That’s all there is to it. When the raid starts from my end, I fire a signal. You do the same from your end, Dip.

“Your job is right here, Cliff. You can squeeze through that hole in the wall. You’re the sniper of this outfit. Let Lance and his crew take care of the pack. You pick off any stray cops that you see. Get me?”

“Right!” grunted Cliff.

“Come along, Dip,” ordered Flash.

Alone, Cliff Marsland went to the narrow window and found that it was just wide enough for his body. He squeezed through and hung above the alleyway.

He waited several minutes. Then he heard a slight murmur from beneath. He knew that Lance Bolero and Gringo Butz had joined their companion, Tony Caprona.

Cliff could not make out what was taking place, for all was pitch-dark below. He knew that Lance and his gorillas would have a tough assignment, stopping the onrush of massed police and detectives.

Minutes had gone by. All was totally quiet. Peering from his window, Cliff tried to pierce the darkness. Off on one street; he was barely able to see a car stopping at the entrance to the alley. Looking quickly in the opposite direction, he saw another car standing there!

Cliff unlimbered both his automatics. With one in each hand, he waited at his lookout.

Crack!

A sharp report sounded from one end of the alley. It was Dip Riker’s signal. Immediately, another bark came from the opposite end. Flash Donegan had sent his warning.

Then the alley was bathed in tremendous light. From the cars in the streets, huge searchlights were trained upon the scene. A dozen men piled into the alleyway — six from each end. The police were making a mass attack.

They were firing low and along the walls, aiming for the center of the alley.

Had Flash Donegan trusted to a few henchmen armed with automatics, the odds would have been with the police. But actually, the crafty racketeer had laid a death trap for the forces of the law. Staring straight downward, Cliff saw it all.

Two rows of sanded bags had been stretched across the middle of the alley. Between those lines of defense were Lance Bolero and his men — with two machine guns, one trained in each direction!

It was to be a wipe-out, Flash had said. Lance Bolero was at one machine gun; Tony Caprona at the other. Gringo Butz was in reserve, with the ammunition. The police had seen the barricades, but they were charging onward, not knowing the menace that lay behind.

Lance and Gringo were coolly waiting, holding their fire until there could be no retreat for the minions of the law!

Cliff Marsland acted on the instant. Leaning from his window, he opened fire with both automatics — not on the police, as Flash Donegan had instructed him — but on those safely sheltered fiends of crime!

CLIFF aimed for the hands that were on the machine guns. A shout had just come from Lance Bolero — a brutal, snarling shout — that expressed the joy of the killer. But before Tony Caprona could respond — before Lance, himself, could start action with his machine gun — Cliff’s attack had been delivered.

Bullets from Cliff’s automatics found their marks. Both men fell wounded. The guns were useless. Lance Bolero made a vain effort to recover. He clutched the machine gun with his left hand. Cliff’s next bullet broke his wrist.

Then came quick action on the part of the extra man, Gringo Butz. Not knowing that the menace came from above, Gringo leaped to Tony’s machine gun.

Its staccato bark never began. Cliff emptied his automatics at the gunner and the gun. Bullets crashed against the machine gun. Gringo Butz collapsed.

On came the policemen and detectives. Over the barricades they went, with revolvers spitting fire. They had heard shots, but had not seen from where they came. They piled into the ambush, shooting — and stopped in amazement at the sight of the three prone gangsters before them.

Lance and Gringo were dead. Police bullets had finished what Cliff Marsland had begun. Tony Caprona was wounded. While the police were dragging forth their victims, more shots came from the ends of the alley.

Eight officers responded. Cliff heard heavy firing. Reserves, stationed outside, had opened an onslaught on Flash Donegan and Dip Riker, quartered separately within the ends of the warehouse. Reinforced by the attackers who had been in the alley — men whom Flash and Dip had thought dead — the minions of the law were fighting the beleaguered gangsters to the death!

Cliff crouched below the window. He could hear detectives shouting in the alley. He was safe here; his hiding place was a disused air shaft, with a hidden opening below. From this place of security, he listened to the firing, and also heard men storming at the opening in the warehouse opposite.

The victory belonged to the law — but Cliff Marsland, hidden and alert, was the man who had won the fight. The real victory had been gained by the power of The Shadow!