The Garaucan Swindle

CHAPTER XI. FIGHT AND FLIGHT

TWO sounds came as prelude to combat. Both were challenges. Snarls of mobsters hissed from below.

With them, from above, came the hollow mockery of a defiant laugh. The mirth of The Shadow echoed foreboding in the confines of those tunneled steps.

Sweeping automatics beat whisked revolvers to the shot. Roars reechoed through the downward-angled passage. A slug found the flashlight and extinguished it; a second shot finished the man who had held the torch. Two other mobsmen fired through the darkness.

Blazing automatics were aimed for the flare of revolvers. While gangster bullets ricocheted close by The Shadow, the master fighter dispatched his own shots with exact precision. One gangster slumped silent.

The other staggered off into the darkness below.

The Shadow did not pause. Retreat was open; but it was not the way he chose. His leaping figure reached the bottom of the steps. His automatics blazed toward twinkling lights that were approaching through the corridor of the subway.

On flashed bull’s-eye lanterns. Again, The Shadow showed like a specter in the glare. As he weaved into the trackless subway, getting clear from the confines of the side, he fired toward the lights that had spotted him. One — then the other — out went the lanterns.

Then came bullets whistling through the dark. Like his enemies, The Shadow was using gun-bursts for targets. As gangsters spread, The Shadow battled lone-handed from a vantage point he had chosen.

Bullets were aimed straight for The Shadow. With the number of his foemen — with their deploying tactics — The Shadow could not cover all. Yet cursing mobsters were amazed when their shots failed to take effect. They were afraid to use more lights; hence they did not know the answer.

The Shadow had retreated a dozen yards. He wanted to be clear of the platforms, so that he could shoot at mobsmen when they made for the steps. Between the spot where tracks should have been, The Shadow had taken his stand behind a huge steel pillar. This was the bulwark that protected him from gangster shots.

His swift hands seemed to know the split seconds in which to emerge from cover. They dropped back momentarily after every shot. Dobey Blitz and his mobsmen were firing straight shots that were aimed for the precise spot where The Shadow stood. Yet their bullets all found the intervening pillar.

A LULL. Dobey and his minions thought that they had silenced The Shadow. Howling their triumph from platforms on both sides, they sprang for the stairs that led to the street. Their cry of victory, however, was delivered too soon.

The Shadow had foreseen that the final spread would bring an enfilading fire against him. Shooting at angles as they neared the steps, the remaining mobsmen would offset the protection of the pillar. That was why The Shadow paused.

Moving swiftly through the darkness, The Shadow gained another post, further away. Then, as the two crews reached the stairs, he resumed his fire. Each automatic seemed to probe the dark, so well had The Shadow located the position of the steps.

Snarls. Shots. Cries, groans and moans sounded through the confines of the subway. Revolvers blazed futile answers to The Shadow’s wrath. Using a new brace of automatics, The Shadow was prepared to annihilate the crooks. It was luck— not their own ability — that saved them.

The Shadow had located the steps on both sides, but in the darkness, he could not account for intervening pillars. His automatics twisted as they fired, to give a spraying effect to his bullets. Had the way been clear, none of his enemies could have escaped. The pillars, however, gave the piling mobsmen opportunity.

Clattering footsteps, muffling upwards, were testimony of flight. The automatics ceased their barking.

Dying echoes were accompanied by the groans of those who lay wounded. Springing clear of the post, The Shadow gained a platform. He took a flight of steps in pursuit of those who had fled.

Dobey Blitz’s crew had numbered a full fifteen. More than a third of these lay sprawled within the subway. The others had headed for the street; among them were Dobey and the henchmen closest to him — the ones who were carrying the swag.

Luck was turning against The Shadow. By chance, he had chosen the steps opposite those which Dobey and his most important minions had taken. This factor was to have an important bearing upon the sequel of the struggle.

Reaching the street, the mobsmen had encountered the patrol car. The searchers for Lucas had heard the distant firing. They had come up to discover the trouble at the subway. Dobey and his henchmen, heading for the alley where they had left parked cars, were forced to stop and give battle.

Mobster bullets riddled the patrol car. The policemen dropped under the shelter of the dash board.

Howling mobsters sprang forward, intent upon doing murder. The officers raised their guns, to put up a hopeless fight. Then came an interruption. Automatics barked from the subway entrance. Two mobsmen toppled.

The Shadow! He was back again! Using the boarded entrance as a rampart, he was downing these fighting men of crime. Ruffians turned to give battle. Forgetting the police, they scattered. The officers joined in the fire.

The Shadow turned. The police could take care of themselves. He wanted to stop the flight of those who had headed for the alley.

This time, The Shadow was too late. One bullet clipped the last of the swag-carriers who turned the corner. The man sprawled. His sack bounded ahead of him. Dobey seized it, beyond the corner.

While the cops took up the chase of gangsters in the open, The Shadow moved swiftly across the street.

He reached the entrance of the alley, again too late. Up ahead, a rakish touring car was roaring clear to safety. It was beyond the range of The Shadow’s mighty guns.

Sirens were whining from the avenue. More police cars were coming up. The Shadow had accomplished all that was possible. He had battled with escaping robbers, even though he had not managed to waylay the swag. He had traced crime to Dobey Blitz. From now on, his quest would be the recovery of those stolen funds and the discovery of the master hand whom Dobey served.

The black-garbed form merged with the gloom of the alley. A cloak swished through darkness. From then on, The Shadow’s course was untraceable.

INVESTIGATING police descended the steps of the new subway. They found bodies below. While they were still studying the effects of what they thought was a gang fray, a man arrived to take charge of the work. It was Detective Joe Cardona, in the role of acting inspector.

Joe came to a prompt decision. He could see no reason for a purposeless gang fight in the empty subway. He ordered a search. Squads of officers headed in both directions. A police surgeon was looking over the body of a dead mobster when a searcher returned on the run to report to Joe Cardona.

“Down this way,” stated the officer. “We found a dead patrolman— we think it’s Lucas.”

“Come along,” said Joe to the police surgeon.

They hurried in the direction indicated. They reached the side passage and found the dead patrolman’s body lying on the fringe of the subway. A policeman pointed Joe into the side passage. Leaving the surgeon with the body, Joe went into the unboarded entrance. The policeman’s flashlight showed the tunnel into the bank. Grimly, Joe headed in that direction.

Inside, the ace detective discovered the rifled vault. Joe saw at once that it had been picked clean. With policemen at his heels, Joe ascended the stairs. Flashlights showed the upper vault untouched. Then a glimmer revealed a figure on the floor. It was the dead form of Rowley, the watchman.

Joe heard some one approaching. It was the police surgeon, anxious to report. Joe stopped him and pointed to the body of Rowley.

“Take a look at that fellow,” ordered the detective.

The surgeon complied, while Joe marched back and forth between Rowley’s body and the vault. Musing aloud, the detective spoke to the surgeon.

“Double murder,” stated Cardona. “Lucas and this watchman. Well — it’ll be tough for the guy that killed them. Revolver bullets are as good as finger prints. Better. When we examine those slugs, we’ll have a line on the gat that the killer used. When we find the gun, we’ll find the man—”

“But you won’t find the gun,” put in the surgeon, solemnly. “My belief is that the same man murdered both the patrolman and the watchman. The course of the bullet is the same in each case. But you won’t be able to prove it by the bullets.”

“Why not?” demanded Cardona.

“Because,” said the surgeon, “those wounds have been probed. In each case, the bullet has been removed from the body.”

Joe Cardona gaped. In all his experience with gang murders, he had never run into so startling a case as this. Joe had pictured the bullets as exhibit A in each murder. He realized suddenly that he was balked.

“You’re dealing with a smart killer,” declared the police surgeon. “It will be hard to pin it on him, Cardona.”

“You’re right, Doc,” responded the sleuth. “It’s going to be tough. But I know one bird that’s smart enough to pull a job like this. He’s the one I’m going after.”

Joe Cardona was thinking of Dobey Blitz. The affray at the Antrilla Apartments had given him his cue.

Dobey’s absence there was something that had perplexed Joe Cardona.

Dobey Blitz! Big enough — smart enough to pull this job. Wise enough to have tell-tale bullets removed from the corpses of his victims. Also brainy enough to keep away from the toils of the law.

Cardona was glum. But as he pondered, the detective saw a ray of hope. What had brought about that fight at the Antrilla? Why had there been a battle after the bank robbery? What enemy had sought to curb the plans of Dobey Blitz?

Cardona could think of but one; and that personage was more potent than even Dobey Blitz. Despite the absence of the bullets from the bodies of the victims; despite Dobey’s recognized cleverness, there was chance that the big shot could be called to account for to-night’s crimes.

For the one of whom Joe Cardona was thinking had proven his ability to deal with bigger men than Dobey Blitz. That personage was also noted for his relentless power to keep upon an enemy’s trail. Joe Cardona smiled grimly, as his lips voicelessly formed the name of the being whose prowess he was picturing:

“The Shadow!”