The Death Giver

CHAPTER XIX. THE LAST CHANCE

WHILE governors, admirals, and aviators were being entertained by New York’s mayor and other city officials, one municipal office holder was still at his desk. Police Commissioner Ralph Weston had sturdily managed to excuse himself from participation in the celebration.

To Weston, this gloomy day brought one real ray of comfort. The newspapers were filled with headlines heralding the welcome parade. They had no heavy space for murders and criticism of New York’s police.

In his present mood, the commissioner had need of a foil. Hence, when Joe Cardona was announced, he ordered that the detective be shown in immediately.

When Cardona entered the office, he needed no statement to learn that he was to be on the carpet.

Weston’s imperious wave toward a chair was sufficient. Cardona sat down and waited for the storm to break.

“Cardona” — Weston’s tone was very brusque — “I said some encouraging things to you the other day. Since then, I have decided that I was wrong. I should have dealt in criticism alone.”

“You did criticize me,” returned Cardona. “You told me that I was likely to be the goat.”

“So I did,” nodded Weston. “Well, Cardona, I’m glad you remembered that part of it. It will prepare you for what is to come.”

“What’s that, commissioner?”

“Your resignation from the force.”

Cardona sat stolidly, staring hard at the police commissioner. These words had had a stunning effect upon the star detective. He was trying not to show it.

“When do you want it, commissioner?” queried Joe.

There was no break in Cardona’s voice; but Weston sensed the strain behind it, and looked out of the window. He spoke in a stern, but kindly tone.

“Tomorrow, Cardona,” he replied. “Tomorrow — unless you obtain some vital facts between now and then. There is no personal animosity in my demand, Cardona. On the contrary, I have the highest regard for your honesty and practical ability.

“But you are beyond your depth at present. You have stated — so openly that the newspapers have taken up the cry — that New York is being terrorized by a master killer. You have been unable to find a single trace of him.

“You admitted that the deaths of Irwin Langhorne and his secretary might be the work of this supercrook. Today, the newspapers have temporarily dropped their running sensation. But tomorrow” — Weston paused to shake his head— “there may be new deaths. If not tomorrow, perhaps the day after.

“For the good of the force, Cardona, these cases must be handled by some other man. To relieve you would bring criticism to all of us. But if you resign—”

“I’ll be the goat,” completed Cardona.

The commissioner nodded.

“All right,” declared Cardona, rising wearily. “I’ll be the goat, commissioner. I deserve all that’s coming to me. I only hope that the next man gets by. I’ll have the resignation here at nine in the morning.”

“Noon will do,” responded Weston.

“Noon then,” said Cardona. “I guess you’re right, commissioner. There’s a big brain behind these killings, and there’s no telling what will happen next. I’ve been on pins and needles all day — just a hunch!”

“Of what?”

“A hunch that this big killer might be out to get somebody in the welcome parade.”

COMMISSIONER WESTON turned pale. The thought was a terrifying one, yet it was not past belief.

A death dealer who could strike as boldly as this one had, would stop at nothing.

Cardona did not wait for the commissioner’s reaction He turned to leave the office. Weston stopped him and held out his hand. Cardona grasped it sturdily; then left.

The detective was in a daze when he reached his own office. He noted Inspector Klein in a room across the hall. Mechanically, he went there and nodded a stolid greeting. Klein detected the misery in Cardona’s face.

“I’m through,” declared the detective, answering Klein’s silent question. “Tomorrow. The commissioner wants me to resign.”

“Tough luck, Joe,” said the inspector. “I was afraid it was coming. It’s not your fault—”

“Forget it,” interrupted Cardona, with a gruff attempt at a laugh.

Crossing the hall, the detective entered his own office and sat down behind the desk. He reached for a sheet of paper, intending to phrase his resignation at once. He stopped as he saw an envelope upon the desk.

Opening the packet, Cardona discovered three envelopes within. They were addressed to Irwin Langhorne. Three postcards, addressed to Henry Bellew, were with the envelopes. Vaguely, Cordona seemed to recall those postcards. He had passed over them in Bellew’s desk!

Fumbling with the envelopes, Cardona withdrew the clippings and the notes that Langhorne had received. In the last letter was the explanation of the code. It was not necessary, however. Langhorne’s pencil had halved the words. The messages were revealed, and when Cardona looked at the postcards, he discovered their meaning also!

The one item that brought a gasp from Cardona was the signature of the final note to Irwin Langhorne.

Cardona, in his surprise, uttered the name aloud:

“The Death Giver!”

Here, at last, was tangible evidence! Here was a trace of a master mind behind two series of crimes. The Felswood killings; the murders in Manhattan; the deaths of two millionaires — all were positively linked.

In his elation, Cardona seized the documents, ready to carry them to Inspector Klein. The detective stopped suddenly. He realized that this evidence would stave off his resignation; but would it be wise to reveal it now?

He only knew that his hunch of a supercriminal must be correct. But where could the man be found? The Death Giver! Of what value was the name alone? Reflecting, Cardona began to puzzle over the source of this mysterious evidence.

SOME one had unquestionably been investigating the unsolved crimes. Some one had been over the ground and had gained these clews.

The identity of the mysterious investigator answered a question that had long been in Cardona’s mind: namely, the whereabouts of that strange personage known as The Shadow.

The Shadow!

He had aided Cardona in the past — this crime fighter whom Commissioner Weston preferred to regard as a myth. Was he helping Cardona now? No one but The Shadow would have arranged the secret delivery of this packet to Cardona’s desk. A sudden enlightenment dawned upon the detective.

The crimes of The Death Giver had taxed even The Shadow’s power! Otherwise, the rule of terror would have ended following the murder of Henry Bellew. The Shadow, seeking The Death Giver, had been unable to assist Cardona until the stage was set for action.

Well did Cardona know that The Shadow did not need the aid of the police. Great crimes had been prevented by The Shadow; heavy scores had been settled by the mysterious avenger. But The Shadow had always shown a proclivity for letting the police take credit for the solving of the crimes which concerned them.

To meet The Death Giver — to destroy the fiend — that was a mission which Cardona believed The Shadow had undertaken. In the culmination of that mission, The Shadow was, in all probability, willing that Joe Cardona should gain a triumph.

The Shadow favored all those who were opposed to crime. Cardona, at headquarters, had been useful to The Shadow. Cardona, no longer a detective, would no longer be a figure in the ceaseless warfare against those who sought to thwart the law.

Cardona settled back into his chair. He knew that this evidence was The Shadow’s doing. He realized that The Shadow would expect him to know.

His resignation had been asked. It would not be wanted if Cardona gained results between now and tomorrow noon. Why go to Commissioner Weston or Detective Klein? In a sense, they were no longer Cardona’s superiors.

In the approaching hours, so the detective decided, he would be working for a new and unknown chief — The Shadow! The facts concerning a criminal called The Death Giver were a definite hint that he should wait for more. Here was the place to wait; here, where The Shadow could reach him.

An hour went by, and still Cardona lingered. The telephone bell rang. Cardona plucked the instrument from the desk. He was confident that he would hear the tones of a strange, mysterious voice, giving him instructions which he would be wise to follow.

The last chance! Cardona was staking all upon The Shadow!