The Garaucan Swindle

CHAPTER X. CRIME BREAKS

WHILE The Shadow was lingering at the Antrilla Apartments, Dobey Blitz was busy elsewhere. Though he had fared forth on work of crime, the hard-faced big shot was not spectacular at the start. In fact, his actions seemed very leisurely as he strolled along a West Side avenue in the vicinity of the Founders Trust Company.

Near a quiet corner, Dobey observed the man he wanted. It was Lucas, the cop on the beat. Crossing the street, Dobey approached the blue-coat. As Dobey spoke, Lucas looked up in surprise. The officer recognized the shrewd racketeer.

“Hello, Lucas,” greeted Dobey. “Which way are you going on your beat?”

“North,” growled the cop. “Why?”

“I’ll go along with you. I want to talk to you. We’ll stop in back of the old garage, up in the next block.”

Lucas pondered. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he decided to accompany the big shot. Dobey Blitz was not wanted by the law. He had always kept in right with the police. Lucas was anxious to know what was on his mind.

“Listen.” Dobey spoke cautiously as they walked along. “I want to slip you some information. There’s a guy I’m out to get? See?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well — he’s going to pull something. On this beat. If I tip off headquarters, the guy’s friends will know that some one squealed on him. I want to be out of it.”

“I get you.”

“So I’m giving you the lay. Then you can wise up to the job. I won’t be mixed in it; you’ll get plenty of credit. How does that sound?”

“Pretty good, Dobey. They always said you was a good guy.”

“I try to be. It’s going to take me five minutes to give you the dope; but I don’t want to do it out here on the street. That’s why we’re heading off in back of the garage.”

They had reached their destination. They came to the darkness of an alley. Dobey turned on a flashlight.

He handed it to Lucas.

“Keep that glimmer going,” ordered the big shot. “Hold it toward my hands.”

Lucas obeyed. Dobey produced a small stack of papers. He began to go through them by the light of the torch. He stopped at one that showed a diagram of streets.

“Here you are,” growled Dobey. “This is the corner where Tunkey’s pawn shop is located. This arrow there indicates the side entrance to the pawn shop. Over here across the street is a barber shop. That’s where the guy—”

Dobey said no more. He had said enough. Something swished in the dark; Lucas slumped as a blackjack tapped the back of his head. The flashlight went clattering to the cobbles. Dobey picked it up and extinguished it.

“Bring him along,” he ordered.

READY hands picked up the senseless form of Lucas. They carried the cop along the alley and dumped him into a parked car. Dobey joined them. They rode away. Five blocks on, the car stopped in another secluded spot. Dobey alighted and led the way; his henchmen followed, carrying the still unconscious form of the patrolman.

They were three blocks away from the beat that Lucas covered. They came to a subway entrance that was new and boarded up. It was an entrance to the new West Side subway. This high-speed system had been completed for several months. It was awaiting funds before it could be operated.

The boards at the entrance had been loosened. Dobey lifted them and descended, still followed by his henchmen who carried Lucas with them. Down the steps and into the subway itself. Gloom pervaded the long, underground corridor.

There was no watchman here to see the lights that twinkled as a considerable crew tramped through the subway. No tracks or equipment had been laid; there was nothing here to steal or damage. After an evening inspection, the subway was deserted.

Block after block, underground, the crew moved onward. More lights joined. At last, the objective was reached. Dobey’s light became the center of a circle. Big shot and minions were beside a loosely boarded wall — the entrance to a side extension. This spot was located close to the Founders Trust Company.

Loose boards came down. The crew crowded into the side space. Dobey’s light showed a yawning hole.

It was a short tunnel that had been bored through the old, crumbling foundations of the bank building.

“Move in,” ordered Dobey. “You wait here, Sooky, while I muffle my gat.”

Lucas had been laid on the concrete. The cop was stirring weakly. Dobey laughed harshly as he stooped over the blue-clad form. Then came a muffled report, like the fizz of a firecracker. Dobey arose.

“That finishes him,” announced Dobey. “Get to work, Sooky. I want that slug for a souvenir. There’ll be another guy later.”

The crew moved inward. They reached the end of the tunnel. Only a thin shell of wall barred further progress. While a bull’s-eye lantern glowed, ready crooks pried with crowbars. Bricks tumbled. Lights showed the basement of the bank.

Dobey was the first to crowd through. His men followed him. Softly, Dobey led the way to a large vault.

He motioned his men to wait. Then he called upon two to follow him. They made for a flight of stairs.

At the top, Dobey led the way to another spot, where a little light showed a table and chair. It was the watchman’s post. Men waited in the darkness. Evidently Dobey had timed his work well, for tramping footsteps soon announced the arrival of Rowley.

Mobsmen pounced upon the watchman. As they choked his head backward, Dobey jammed close.

Again, a muffled, squidgy report. Mobsmen let go; Rowley’s body slumped to the floor.

“That finishes him,” decided Dobey. “Go get Sooky. Bring him up here. Tell him to fix this body.”

The henchmen departed. Dobey flashed a light. It showed a second vault, located directly above the first.

Dobey, however, did not linger. He followed his minions. He joined the crew by the lower vault. There, Dobey stepped into the light of the bull’s-eye lantern and began to work on the combination.

The massive door swung outward. Dobey went to work on an inner gate. The contents of the vault were accessible. Sacks were passed to Dobey. The big shot began to load in stacks of money and bundles of securities.

“Take your time, boys,” ordered the big shot. “There’s no hurry. Once we’ve cleaned this vault, we’re through. There’s nobody going to wise up that we’re here.”

DOBEY spoke with positive assurance. He and his men were underground. There was no possible way that any one on the street could know that crooks were at work below. In fact, an investigator had already arrived upon the scene and was deceived.

The arrival was The Shadow. Phantomlike, the black-garbed visitant was circling the walls of the Founders Trust Company. He had seen no sign of suspicious characters; he could see no evidence of any mode of entry to the building.

The Shadow had suspected trouble here. Not finding it, he wondered. He had picked this bank as an objective for crime, yet he had no proof that to-night was the time intended. The Shadow glided into darkness. Two blocks away, he stopped by a shoe repairing shop, where a sign indicated a pay telephone within.

The lock of the door gave as The Shadow manipulated it. The blackened form entered. The Shadow found the telephone and put in a call to Burbank. The quiet voice of the contact man came over the wire.

The only report was from Clyde Burke, newspaper reporter who was a secret agent of The Shadow.

Clyde had gone to the Antrilla Apartments. He had reported that Detective Joe Cardona was there. The fight had been classed as a gang fracas.

“Report received,” whispered The Shadow.

An exclamation from Burbank. It came just before The Shadow was ready to hang up the receiver.

“Wait!” announced the contact man. “Radio call coming through. I’ll put it on.”

One of Burbank’s duties, at his contact room, was to keep tabs on police calls. Hearing one, he must have set the loud speaker at the telephone, for The Shadow heard the call that came.

“Calling car fourteen,” droned a voice. “Calling car fourteen. No report from Patrolman Lucas. Last report from box eighty-six. Investigate…”

The Shadow hung up as the call was being repeated. Here was a clue of importance. All seemed well in the neighborhood of the Founders Trust Company, yet all was not well in the surrounding terrain. Lucas had failed to report. Something must be wrong.

The Shadow headed from the shoe shop. His objective was the same as the patrol car — the box from which Lucas had last reported. From that point, The Shadow was ready to begin an investigation. It required only a few minutes for him to reach the corner where the box was located.

The Shadow knew that he was working blind. Box 86 was five blocks from the Founders Trust Company. It was on the fringe of the patrolman’s beat. Whatever Lucas had encountered must have occurred after the cop had departed from that box. Yet it was the only starting point.

Chance had favored The Shadow. It was to aid him again. As his tall form stood unseen in the blackness of a corner building, The Shadow’s keen eyes, roving along each street, made a sudden discovery. A few blocks away, a corner light showed a boarded entrance to the new subway.

There was no subway entrance near the Founders Trust Company. The Shadow, though he knew the course of the new tube, had not considered it in connection with the bank building. It was one of those oversights that showed that The Shadow was not entirely infallible.

SIGHT of the entrance itself, however, awoke a quick chain of thought. Swiftly, The Shadow moved toward the spot that he had discerned. The subway entrance was to be the beginning of his new search.

There were two entrances at the corner which The Shadow reached. The Shadow chose the nearer one.

Black against the side of the buildings, he wrenched away one of the boards. It came loose with surprising ease.

The steps turned as The Shadow descended. One corner; then another. The Shadow was moving swiftly. As he took the second turn, something occurred ahead. The Shadow heard a growled voice; the sound of a man stumbling in the darkness.

Then, unexpectedly, some one turned on a flashlight from below. The glare revealed the steps on which The Shadow stood. A startled oath sounded from behind the flashlight. The mobster who held the torch had seen The Shadow!

Caught squarely within the glow was that figure cloaked in black. There was no chance to escape from mobster eyes. Revealed to the first of Dobey Blitz’s departing crew, The Shadow had but one course.

That was to fight with the advancing hordes of crime!