The Fate Joss

CHAPTER X THE GUARDED JOSS

“WELL? Where’s the Joss?”

“I–I don’t know, sir. We saw it here. That was why Mr. Laudring sent me for the police.”

Joe Cardona had made the query; Satsu had delivered the stammered reply. Speaking choppily, the Korean stared about in dazed fashion. His bewilderment was unfeigned.

It was plain that the cellar could not contain the Fate Joss. Blank, whitewashed walls were everywhere, except at the coal bins. They were low; and the light showed almost all of their interiors. Devoid of crates or boxes, the bins offered no possible hiding place for so huge a statue as the one that Satsu had described.

“You didn’t lug it out,” decided Cardona, eyeing the Korean. “That’s one thing certain — providing this idol is as big as you’ve said it is. Those Chinese upstairs didn’t have a chance; and the ones that Casey says had a truck were coming — not going.”

“That truck was empty, inspector,” put in Casey. “We grabbed it after the Chinese ran away. But say — if anybody did try to get the thing out of here, how would they drag it up the steps we just came down?”

“They would not use the steps,” said Satsu, in sudden answer to the question. “Mr. Roucard took the Joss through to the house behind here.”

“That’s something,” inserted Cardona. He eyed Satsu steadily. “Do some more talking, fellow. It will be good for you. You say Roucard took the Joss away last night?”

“Through those doors,” stated Satsu, nodding as he pointed. “That was the only way that the Joss could go.”

“But they’re barred now,” began Cardona; looking toward the far end of the cellar. “Barred — from this side of the doors—”

Cardona got no farther. Momentarily, he had eased his revolver away from Satsu’s ribs. Casey and Parker had edged in from the passage between the coal bins. Satsu, his eyes showing a quick, cunning blink, had seen an opportunity.

With a quick leap, the Korean darted away from the men who held him. He dived for the passage between the coal bins.

Cardona, wheeling, shouted for him to stop. Satsu kept on. Joe leveled his revolver and fired. His shots were too late. The bullets ripped splinters from the boards of the narrow passage; but Satsu gained the turn and clattered up the stairs.

CARDONA was after him, with the detectives close behind. At the bottom of the steps, Joe caught a glimpse of the fugitive springing through the doorway at the top. Cardona fired another hasty shot that sizzled wide. He and his companions headed up the stairs. A revolver barked while they were coming.

The cop at the front door had heard the first shots below. He had yanked a revolver and aimed for Satsu when the Korean appeared. He had not been quick enough to stop the dodging fugitive. Satsu had dashed through the dining room, making headway for the opening back door. Cardona and the rest continued their pursuit.

The chase followed to the alleyway. Flashlights blinked long glares; one beam showed Satsu reaching the street. He had gained on his pursuers; hurried shots failed to wing him. The four men kept up their chase. A patrol car whined into view as they arrived on the street.

Angrily, Cardona ordered an intensive hunt. Turning back, he started through the alleyway. More men were needed here; Cardona would summon them from headquarters. Police surgeons as well; for deaths must be investigated. The murder of Chichester Laudring in particular.

While Cardona was returning, fuming at the slip that he had made in letting Satsu escape, a figure was moving from the deserted cellar where the Fate Joss once had been. The Shadow, his cloaked figure plain in the light, was coming from an inner corner of an empty coal bin.

He had headed back into the cellar after his fight with the five Chinese. He had used his pick to lock the door behind him. He had bided here until the advent of Cardona and Satsu. The Korean’s dash for liberty had given The Shadow an excellent opportunity for departure.

Hidden in the coal bin, The Shadow had seen nothing of Satsu’s escape; but he had quickly guessed what had happened. Taking the stairs, The Shadow reached the ground floor to find it deserted. Deciding that the chase had led through the back door, he calmly stalked through the front way and reached the outside street.

Lamplights here were infrequent. With full darkness settled, The Shadow found no difficulty in making a departure. He heard the whining of police sirens in neighboring blocks; and at times he paused to listen for other sounds. Threading his way through the terrain, The Shadow showed purpose other than his desire to leave here unobserved. He was trying to cross Satsu’s trail. As much as the police, he would have liked to question the slippery Korean.

The Shadow had heard enough to know that Cardona had captured some servant of Laudring’s. Satsu’s peculiar accent was indication that the man was a Korean; for The Shadow had met with others of that race. He could have guessed Satsu’s identity had he encountered the man. But The Shadow found no sign of any lurker who had hidden in this neighborhood.

Traveling several blocks away from Laudring’s, The Shadow found a small, gloomy cigar store. No one was behind the counter. The Shadow entered and heard the sound of voices from beyond the door of a rear room. Stepping to a darkened corner, he used a telephone to make a call to the exclusive Cobalt Club. In the calm tones of Lamont Cranston, he gave an order for his chauffeur to meet him at a certain address.

Gliding out into the night, The Shadow covered a few more blocks. He chose a waiting spot in front of an empty house. Five minutes passed; then a limousine came along the street and stopped.

Stanley alighted and went up the steps of the house. Using a match, the chauffeur looked at the number. Puzzled, he went back to the car wondering if he had come to the correct address.

A voice from the speaking tube startled Stanley. The tones were those of Lamont Cranston, ordering the chauffeur to drive to another destination, some distance away.

Puzzled, Stanley took the wheel and started the car. He had not seen The Shadow step aboard the limousine.

MEANWHILE, four men were gathered in a small underground room. The place was windowless; its illumination came from a single incandescent that was hanging by a cord. One man was close by a table that held a telephone. He was the clean-cut individual whom Satsu had heard calling from the drug store. This was Harry Vincent, agent of The Shadow.

Opposite Harry was a husky, square-jawed fellow of about Harry’s age. His countenance was firm, his features chiseled. This was Cliff Marsland.

Beside Cliff was a little, wizened faced man whose sly face wore a grin. He was “Hawkeye,” The Shadow’s spotter, who usually watched developments in the underworld.

Standing by the door was a huge African, whose bulk would have matched that of the dead Hoang Fu. He, too, served The Shadow, on certain rare occasions. Like Hawkeye, this big fellow was wearing a grin. Harry Vincent noticed it and made comment.

“Good work, Jericho,” he commended. “That job should have taken six of us. You filled the bill for three. Well, we made it, and when—”

Harry paused to answer the telephone, which had begun to ring. He held a short conversation with Burbank and hung up.

“We’ll take the truck back to the Howland Garage,” he told Cliff. “Hawkeye, you and Jericho are to stay on duty here. But don’t move around unless you hear some one trying to break in.”

Harry and Cliff went out into a larger room, which was obviously the floor of an old abandoned garage. Small and narrow, the place had probably been closed because it had storage space for too few cars. The light from the little room showed a coupe; beyond it, a light truck. At the inner end of the garage were sliding doors that led to another storage space.

Harry closed the door from the little room. Moving through the darkness, he ascended a ramp and unlocked a large sliding door. He opened the barrier and spoke in a whisper to Cliff.

“I’ll back the coupe out to the street,” informed Harry. “When my lights go out, you’ll know it’s clear. Head for the Howland Garage. I’ll follow.”

Harry backed out. Cliff saw his lights turn out. Entering the truck, Cliff backed it to the street. Harry had left the coupe; he slid the door shut and locked it. The truck rolled away; the coupe followed shortly afterward.

A blackened shape glided up to the closed door. Gloved fingers produced a duplicate key and turned the strong lock. The door slid back noiselessly, no more than two feet. A figure entered, closed the door and glided past the room where Hawkeye and Jericho stood vigil. Arrived at the far end of the garage, the same gloved hand opened a padlock, slid open a door and entered the second storage room.

A light switch clicked. It revealed The Shadow, standing within the closed door of a room some twenty feet square. A soft laugh sounded as burning eyes surveyed a glittering bulk that occupied the center of the chamber. Standing within this abandoned storage room was the Fate Joss from Jehol.

GLARING with its lifeless golden eyes, the huge idol seemed to challenge the being who now controlled its destiny. Beside the massive Joss rested the crouching War Dogs. The idol and its guardians had become the property of the master who had sought them. Casey had told Cardona of a truck that had left the rear street. That truck had come promptly at The Shadow’s call. He had unbarred the doors at the back of Laudring’s cellar. He had prepared an exit for the Fate Joss. Satsu had heard Harry contact with Burbank, to learn that the others were on their way.

When his agents had come through to carry away the Fate Joss, The Shadow had gone upstairs in Laudring’s. It was then that he had encountered the five Chinese and had waged the battle that had ended just before Cardona’s entry. While The Shadow had fought, his agents had worked.

They had removed the Joss and the cannons; all were gone when The Shadow returned below. After that, The Shadow had bolted the rear doors from the inside and had awaited an opportunity for departure.

The agents had brought their trophies to this abandoned hiding place. The Shadow had followed; here was his opportunity to inspect the Fate Joss at leisure. He approached the big statue and studied its gold and jeweled fittings. He knew it to be the idol from the temple of Je Ho.

The Shadow compared the War Dogs. Twin beasts of slaughter, those muzzle-mouthed mortars had evidently served in battle. Exerting pressure, The Shadow untwisted the plug from the mouth of one; then repeated the action with the other. The lamplight showed yawning cavities, with blackened bronze interiors.

Perhaps it was the oddity of those fanciful ancient weapons that brought a whispered laugh from The Shadow’s lips. Possibly, the construction of the cannons gave him some chance inspiration. His momentary mirth ended, The Shadow fitted the plugs back upon the muzzles. He did not wedge them tightly; instead, he produced an automatic and placed it across the mouth of one cannon; then did the same with the other. Each muzzle was almost the exact width of the automatic.

Extinguishing the light, The Shadow made a prompt departure. He passed through the outer storage space as silently as he had arrived. Neither Hawkeye nor Jericho had guessed his visit; nor would they — or other guards — learn of any future journeys hither should The Shadow choose to keep them unaware.

LATER, a light gleamed in The Shadow’s sanctum, that strange abode which the master sleuth kept as his own. White hands moved beneath a bluish glare. A shipping report lay upon the table; The Shadow inscribed coded messages.

Through Rutledge Mann, another agent, The Shadow would arrange for shipment of the Fate Joss back to Jehol. The idol would go aboard a tramp steamer, off the coast. Word of its arrival would reach General Cho Tsing in advance. Within the coming week, the Fate Joss would be on its way to the place where it belonged: within the temple of Je Ho.

The Shadow would visit the hiding place at intervals, to make sure that the Fate Joss remained safe. The spot was unknown to any one in Chinatown. Hawkeye and Jericho stood on guard; they would later be relieved by Harry and Cliff.

The Shadow had dealt with men of murder tonight. He had ended the insidious career of Hoang Fu, the giant killer. He had eliminated other would-be murderers who had come to give him battle. Later, he could look for Satsu; opportunity would come, moreover, to deal with a master fiend who had ordered death.

Yet the taste of vengeance must wait, for the present. It must bide until the Fate Joss began its trip to China. The cause of crime must be removed before justice could be given its full due. None — not even Yat Soon — should know of The Shadow’s deeds until they had reached full accomplishment.

Such was The Shadow’s decision. A wise one, for it concerned the mysterious Fate Joss, which had already found four abodes since Chichester Laudring had first disposed of it. From the vault of Dustin Clabb, in Chicago, it had come to Laudring’s boarded-up residence. It had returned there, amazingly, after Laudring had sent it away with Roucard.

At present it was gone again from Laudring’s; and to some — such as Satsu — its evanishment must seem as miraculous as those other episodes had seemed to Laudring. Had the idol’s wanderings ceased? Would it remain in its present quarters, until The Shadow was ready to remove it?

Held by The Shadow, the Fate Joss and its War Dogs seemed secure. Yet The Shadow, strong though his position was, did not intend to risk any move that might inform an enemy of the part which he had played.

The Shadow knew the ways of the Chinese. That fact — more than the tradition which concerned the Fate Joss — would keep him on complete guard until he himself had seen the idol on its final voyage.