The Dark Death

CHAPTER XV. TRAILS DIVERGE

GYP TANGOLI had acted with promptness upon his arrival in Nicky Donarth’s office. Astounded by the deaths that he had witnessed, Gyp had been nonplused for a solution to the mystery.

He might have wondered about his own survival, except for the fact that others, too, had lived. He did not realize that the slaughter had been the premeditated work of Cuyler Willington.

For Willington had planned with a craft far beyond Gyp Tangoli’s ken. Fiendishly, the pale-faced crook had designed the death of his ally, Tony Luggeto, along with his enemies, Gyp and Turk. He had also included the treacherous Nicky Donarth in his scheme of murder.

To Willington, men who knew too much were dangerous. He had let Tony Luggeto die as he had sacrificed Congo Mollin. He had fled believing that Gyp Tangoli would surely succumb as had those others of dark-hued complexion.

The lowering of the roulette wheel had been Willington’s final stroke. He had performed that action with confidence, thinking that Gyp Tangoli must surely have died. But Gyp, living, had seen the contrivance drop. Gyp knew enough of the layout at the Club Cadiz to know that the control lay in Nicky’s office.

It was there that Willington must have fled. The dropping of the roulette wheel was Willington’s work, in Gyp’s opinion. But to Gyp’s startled brain, it meant only that Willington must have gained some familiarity with arrangements here. Gyp saw no connection between the roulette wheel and the dark death that had fallen.

Two impulses had motivated Gyp Tangoli. One was pursuit of Willington. The other was his own desire to escape before the police arrived. Thus, upon reaching Nicky’s office, Gyp’s first act was to try the steel door at the left.

Gyp found the barrier bolted on the other side. He realized that Willington had gone in that direction, closing the path behind him. Plans of pursuit changed to those of escape. Bounding across the room, Gyp opened the unlocked door on the right.

Just as the dark-faced crook was about to dash from the office, the telephone began to buzz. Hesitating, Gyp grabbed the instrument from Nicky’s desk. He lifted the receiver and spoke in a low, disguised voice. The response came in a tone that Gyp recognized:

“Is Mr. Tangoli there? I would wish to speak with him.”

It was Mahmud. Hoarsely, Gyp responded.

“This is Gyp Tangoli,” he informed. “What is it, Mahmud? Where are you?”

“I have gone from the apartment, sahib,” came the Hindu’s voice. “The Shadow came there. He has killed Bundha. It is wise not to return, I have gone to the place which you have prepared for an emergency in a time like this—”

“I’ll meet you there,” broke in Gyp.

WITH that, the crook hung up the receiver. He stared momentarily toward the center door of the office.

Gyp’s eyes were wild. He seemed to sense that someone had arrived beyond that barrier. In that impression, Gyp was correct.

For The Shadow had reached the outside of the door at the very moment when Gyp had completed his conversation with Mahmud. Luck had favored the crook. But for the Hindu’s timely warning, Gyp might have lingered. Mention of The Shadow, however, had filled him with apprehension.

Hastily, Gyp Tangoli ducked through the doorway at the right. He closed the barrier behind him and threw the bolt. He made his way along the hidden passage, seeking only to put all possible distance between himself and the illfated Club Cadiz.

Thirty seconds after Gyp’s flight, the door of Nicky’s office opened. The Shadow swept suddenly into view, automatics in readiness. Finding the lighted office empty, he closed the door behind him, locking it.

The Shadow tried the steel door on the left. He found it bolted. He tested the one on the right and made a similar discovery. A soft laugh crept from his lips. The Shadow knew that trails had diverged: that Cuyler Willington had taken one route; Gyp Tangoli the other. For The Shadow had seen neither of those crooks among the dead in the gaming room.

As The Shadow lingered, someone began to pound at the office door. The police had arrived. Hesitation ended, they had crossed the room of death. They were coming to investigate the office. Soon they would begin to shatter the wooden door. Meanwhile, The Shadow stood trapped between two steel barriers, each bolted from the other side.

Again the whispered laugh as The Shadow looked upward. Quickly the black-cloaked personage crossed the office and turned out the light. His ghostly figure stood revealed only by the slight glow that came through the frosted skylight. That illumination showed The Shadow rising atop Nicky’s desk.

His long arms reaching to the low ceiling, The Shadow manipulated the rusty catches that held the skylight shut. As The Shadow worked, a crashing sound came from the door. A policeman was attacking the barrier with an ax.

The skylight yielded, swinging downward on groaning hinges. The Shadow’s figure stretched uncannily as his fingers caught the edges of the opening. Then his form went upward.

The Shadow came out upon a small roof. Lying prone, he drew the skylight up with force. Despite its loosened fastenings, it jammed in place.

The Shadow knew that the police would investigate this outlet. His rising figure looked like a growing shroud as he arose upon the little roof. The glow of city lights outlined his shape in uncanny fashion. The Shadow made for the edge of the roof.

Seeking a dropping point, he spied a space below. It looked like a darkened alleyway. Lowering himself into a corner where two walls met, The Shadow found cracked spaces among the bricks. Digging toes and fingers into these openings, he descended.

The space was deeper than The Shadow had supposed. At the bottom, he found himself in total darkness, save for the dull surface of what appeared to be doors at the inner end of this little cul-de-sac.

One door swung open to The Shadow’s touch. The Shadow entered and glimmered a tiny flashlight.

He was in an underground garage, an innocent-looking spot that was just large enough for a small truck.

This space was empty. The probing rays of The Shadow’s light showed a door at the side of the little garage. That door was metal.

Producing his pick, The Shadow attacked the lock. It yielded to the instrument. Opening the door, The Shadow stepped into a lighted passage. He saw steps leading above; straight ahead was an open door.

The Shadow saw the roulette table, resting on the platform of the lowered elevator.

Cuyler Willington had unlocked that elevator room in order to regain his precious Q-ray machine. He had not bothered to close the door behind him. He put the machine in its crate aboard the truck. He had, however, locked the door to the garage. Then he had made a prompt departure at the very time when The Shadow had been escaping from Nicky’s office.

The picture was plain to The Shadow. He saw the reason for the elevator; he knew that the garage must have contained a truck for the removal of the roulette layout. Yet the gambling device was still here.

A soft laugh told that The Shadow knew the answer.

Stepping into the elevator, he found the roulette wheel loose. He lifted it and saw the vacant space beneath. Replacing the wheel, The Shadow did what Cuyler Willington had failed to do. He clamped the wheel upon its pedestal.

THE Shadow’s next action was forced by something that occurred above. A muffled explosion came to his ears. The air in the passage quaked. Shouts followed. The police had blown the steel door in Nicky’s office. They were coming down the steps.

The Shadow wheeled from the elevator. He crossed the passage and opened the door into the garage.

He departed without locking the door behind him. He reached the alleyway and moved out toward the street.

Near his objective, The Shadow pressed suddenly against the wall as a flashlight’s beam came down the alleyway. Two policemen had arrived. They had spotted this entrance as a possible way of reaching the raided Club Cadiz. They pounded through, passing The Shadow on their way. Swiftly, the cloaked being glided to the street.

A taxi was close by. It was not Moe’s cab; but that did not trouble The Shadow. He reached the vehicle, opened the door and stepped silently aboard. In a quiet voice, he gave a destination. The driver heard it.

Puzzled, the fellow started the cab. He had been listening to sounds of whistles and sirens on the avenue, where the police were still busy entering the Club Cadiz. Hence the driver was only mildly surprised when he realized that he had gained a passenger.

When the cab reached its destination, something fluttered to the seat beside the driver. The man picked up the object. It was a five-dollar bill. Surprised, the driver looked into the back seat. He turned on the light. The cab was empty. The mysterious passenger had made a quick departure.

THE next evidence of The Shadow’s presence came within the walls of the sanctum. The bluish light clicked on. White hands appeared beneath its glare. One hand began to write. Steadily, concisely, The Shadow was summing up the events that he had encountered tonight.

Gyp Tangoli and Turk Berchler had fared forth to get Cuyler Willington. That fact was evident. They had chosen the Club Cadiz as the place for murder. They had been forestalled. By whom? Cuyler Willington.

Past and present linked. The Shadow, through his constant study of new inventive measures, had gained facts regarding the terrible Q-ray machine. He had believed that device to be safely kept in the laboratory of the Universal Electric Company.

It seemed obvious that Cuyler Willington had obtained that strange machine; that with it, he had delivered wholesale slaughter in order to eliminate dark-skinned enemies. Through the Q-ray. Willington had made a counter-thrust. Yet, somehow, his action had failed.

Gyp Tangoli must have escaped death. Gyp’s absence from among the dead forms in the gaming room was proof of that fact. Crooked foemen were still at large, ready for new battle. Both were fiends. Each would again seek the other’s life.

Ordinarily, The Shadow might have let one eliminate the other. But present circumstances forbade that course. Into this feud between two crooks had come a new and terrible element: the Q-ray. It had been used once for promiscuous death. It could be used again, now that its secret was known.

For the safety of humanity, The Shadow could use but one course: the prompt elimination of both these murderers. To end their fiendish careers, he must find one or the other. That must be accomplished with promptitude.

Trails had diverged. Links again were broken. Fierce enemies had gone into hiding. That fact brought a sinister, understanding laugh from the lips of The Shadow as his hand extinguished the blue lamp.

With both fiends living, there would be time to prepare for well-planned combat. They would be hiding from each other, as much as from the law. To gain a chance for combat, one would have to bait the other.

Therein lay The Shadow’s opportunity. If other measures failed, he could watch for the coming lure.

When it arrived, he could step into the impending battle. That thought was the reason for The Shadow’s laugh.