The Shadow's Shadow

CHAPTER IX THE CONFERENCE

THE strange escape of The Shadow was not the only aftermath of the affray at Adolph Grayson’s home. In fact, the pursuit of the coupe was the one feature of the night’s excitement that never reached the newspapers. The finding of an overturned car on the side of a Long Island road attracted very little attention.

The Grayson robbery, however, made a front-page story. The fusillade of shots that had rung out during the night had brought alarm to those who lived in the vicinity. They had summoned the police. The result had been the capture of the gangsters wounded by The Shadow.

These men had little to say. In fact, they knew little. The only one who had recognized The Shadow had been Zipper Marsh, and he had not lived to reveal what he had learned. The previous death of Dobie Wentz — former crony of Zipper Marsh — seemed to prove the theory that the battle had been started by rival gangsters who had sought to thwart Zipper Marsh’s plans.

As a startling sequel to the robbery came the recovery of the stolen jewels and documents which had been taken from the safe in Grayson’s home. Through prompt action, Detective Joe Cardona had regained every item that had been stolen.

The newspapers gave the sleuth credit for this; and Joe maintained a discreet silence so far as details were concerned. The ace detective knew the value of keeping silent at crucial times, and this was an occasion which demanded it. For Joe Cardona was totally in the dark regarding the recovery of the pilfered wealth.

He had received a mysterious telephone call the morning after the burglary. That call had led him to a hotel frequented by gangsters. There he had entered a room that had evidently been occupied by Zipper Marsh. In the dead gangster’s hideout, Joe had discovered the property that belonged to Adolph Marsh.

Cardona had arrested no one. None of the frequenters of the hotel appeared to be connected with the case. None of them could offer information. Some were gangsters whom Cardona recognized, others were characters who might have been regarded as suspicious; yet none could be linked with Zipper Marsh.

Why had the stolen goods been left at Zipper’s hideout, of all places? That was something Cardona could not answer. But in the back of his head, the shrewd sleuth had a theory. In all New York, there was one man only who never did the obvious. That man was The Shadow.

To mention The Shadow’s name would have been folly. Cardona had been reprimanded by the police commissioner for such action in the past. Officially, The Shadow did not exist.

There were many competent police officers who did not share the official verdict. Cardona was one of these. He knew the power of The Shadow. More than once had The Shadow saved him from disgrace as well as destruction. The Shadow was one person in New York who never craved publicity. So Joe Cardona took it when it came his way. He accepted it as part of the game.

THE Grayson affair made good news copy for reporters; it also afforded interesting reading for Douglas Carleton. He perused the evening newspaper when he reached Stanford Devaux’s home after dinner.

Learning that Virginia was indisposed, he spent his time in Devaux’s living room, reading, while his future father-in-law was engaged with Shelton Milbrook in the upstairs study.

Between the lines, Carleton saw the name of The Shadow. What Cardona suspected — namely, that The Shadow had played a part last night — was something that Carleton definitely knew. They had missed a prize last night — he and Gats Hackett — when they had failed to capture the occupant of the coupe.

The spoils of Adolph Grayson’s safe would have been a worthwhile acquisition. But the real loss had been the failure to slay The Shadow.

The Grayson property was trivial, compared to the stakes for which Carleton was playing. Across the path of his newly chosen career still loomed the formidable shape of that unknown antagonist.

Carleton threw the newspaper aside, and sat moodily staring at the blank wall. His meditation was interrupted by the arrival of Devaux and Milbrook. Virginia’s father greeted Carleton affably. Milbrook, too, seemed friendly.

“Sorry Virginia is not feeling well to-night,” observed Devaux. “The doctor says that she will have to stay in bed for several days.”

Carleton nodded gloomily.

“I did not intend to stay here long to-night,” he remarked. “So, under the circumstances, I think I shall go downtown now.”

“Why not ride down with me?” questioned Milbrook.

“All right,” agreed Carleton.

The two men left in a taxi. They said very little during the ride. Carleton was sullen and morose. Milbrook was affable, but taciturn.

The only discussion of importance between them was the matter of Devaux’s interest in uncut diamonds. Milbrook did not seem inclined to give much information on this subject, and Carleton did not press him.

Carleton alighted from the cab at the hotel where Milbrook lived. He said good night to his companion, and strolled toward Broadway.

He walked up the bright thoroughfare and turned into a side street, where he entered the lobby of the Gargantuan Hotel. Here he ascended to the twentieth floor, and approached a door at the end of a corridor. Taking a key from his pocket, Carleton knocked, thus causing a resonant sound.

THE door opened, and the young society man entered to join Gats Hackett and Felix Zubian. The pair were evidently expecting his arrival. Carleton helped himself to a drink which Gats supplied. Then he dropped into a chair and looked questioningly toward his companions.

“Did you read the newspapers?” he asked.

Gats joined Zubian in a nod.

“Nice wind-up to last night’s doings,” vouchsafed Carleton.

“It shows us where we stand,” observed Zubian.

“It means we’ve got to get The Shadow,” growled Gats. “He’s a mean baby. We had things fixed right — and he made a get-away. I’ve never seen a guy so lucky.”

“Lucky?” questioned Zubian, in his suave manner. “Just what do you mean by luck?”

Gats offered no reply.

“The Shadow is dangerous,” declared Zubian. “That is quite apparent. Last night’s episode is valuable. It shows that he cannot be overcome by ordinary methods. He has luck, as you term it, Gats. I call it strategy. To overcome strategy, one must meet it with strategy.”

“Yeah?” quizzed Carleton. “How?”

“We must trust our own efforts — not those of others. The Shadow is undoubtedly a menace. Let us consider last night as a test. Zipper Marsh was not equipped to meet The Shadow. We may be, if we prepare.”

“Well, we’ve put him wise—”

“We have not,” interrupted Zubian quietly. “He has learned nothing except that some one was behind the note from Dobie Wentz. He will attribute that note to gangsters opposed to Zipper Marsh — not to your crowd, Gats.”

“Maybe you’ve figured it right,” retorted the gang leader, “but what are we going to do about it?”

“Find out who The Shadow is, to begin with,” suggested Zubian.

Gats Hackett snorted his disdain.

“Guess you think that’s easy,” he growled. “Well, you’d better guess again, Zubian. There’s been plenty of smart blokes trying to spot The Shadow. They’ve never got anywhere.

“Take it right now — Squint Freston is trying to spot him. How far has he got? Squint’s the smartest spotter in New York — and what’s more, he’s got a head-start, trailing The Shadow’s stools — Vincent and Mann.”

“Yet The Shadow still eludes him.”

“Right. You can’t get The Shadow by laying low. He’s wise to that sort of stuff.”

Silence fell over the trio. Then Douglas Carleton aroused himself from his lethargy and asserted his authority.

“We’ve got to get The Shadow,” he announced. “If you fellows can’t do it, we’ll find some one who can. There’s too much at stake to let The Shadow step in and queer it.

“I have plenty of work for both of you to do — soon. In the meantime, let’s clear the way. You had your chance, Gats; but you fell short. What are you going to do about it?”

GATS HACKETT glowered. He walked over to the table to take a drink of liquor. He paused suddenly, and laid down his glass. His glower changed to an evil leer.

“What am I going to do about it?” he demanded. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do about it! I’ll tell you how to get The Shadow.”

He studied the questioning gazes of the other two; then continued with his formulating plan.

“I got somewhere, didn’t I?” he inquired. “I got a message to The Shadow, didn’t I? He was too smart — or too dumb — I don’t know which — to wait until two thirty. He must have got into Grayson’s place ahead of Zipper Marsh. That gave him a chance to shoot his way out. But I’ll get him in a place where he can’t get out. I’ll tell you how, too!”

Gats swallowed his drink, placed the glass on the table, and walked forward to speak in an impressive tone.

“How about those two birds that work for shim?” he demanded. “How about them, eh? Vincent and Mann — a couple of dummies is the way I figure them. All right; we’ll grab them off and make them squawk. They’ll tell us who The Shadow is!”

“Perhaps,” interposed Zubian dryly. “Perhaps they will tell — if they know.”

“If they know!” snorted Gats. “I’ll make them know! I’m not called Gats for nothing. Besides that” — his face wore a malicious scowl — “I’ve got a few things I can use as well as my smoke wagons. I’ve given you the lay. Grab off Mann and Vincent. That’s the ticket.”

“It might work,” declared Carleton.

“It will work,” asserted Gats. “If those stools don’t squawk, I’ll hang onto them. Let The Shadow wonder where they are. That’ll make him hustle. When he begins to step, like he did last night, we’ve got a chance to nab him in the open. Maybe we won’t slip the next time!”

“What do you think about it?” inquired Carleton, turning to Zubian.

The international crook was thoughtful. His firm brow furrowed. At last, he voiced his opinion in a voice that carried careful decision.

“It is a good idea,” he said approvingly, “but we must hold it until later on. It would be well, first, to learn all we can about The Shadow. There are ways of doing that — ways that we have not yet tried.”

“What are they?” asked Carleton.

“I shall state them later,” said Zubian. “I must give the matter careful thought. It is for your benefit, Gats” — he spoke reassuringly as he turned to the gang leader — “because it will put you in a position to ask pointed questions if Mann and Vincent come within your power.

“The Shadow is wily. We must meet him on his own ground. Strategy and secrecy. Those are our best weapons. Suppose” — Zubian turned to Carleton — “that I meet you at your club to-morrow night. Then I shall tell you more.”

“At the Cobalt Club?” asked Carleton.

“That is the place,” said Zubian. “I shall meet you there at half past ten, to-morrow.”

FELIX ZUBIAN arose with the air of a man who had accomplished much. Gats Hackett stared sullenly. Then his expression changed. In spite of himself, Gats was impressed by Zubian’s manner. Still, he could not resist voicing an opinion.

“Find out who The Shadow is!” he sneered. “I’d like to see some one do it! Squint Freston is on the job. He hasn’t got anywhere yet. There’s no one in New York who can touch Squint—”

“I must disagree with you,” interrupted Zubian coldly. He faced Gats Hackett, and leaned heavily upon his ornamental cane. “We discussed that matter the other night, my friend. I told you then that I knew of one man who would prove superior to Squint Freston. I also informed you that the man of whom I spoke was in New York. He is the man upon whom we shall rely.”

“Better than Squint, eh?” jeered Gats. “You think this gazebo can find The Shadow and learn who he is? Why do you figure he can do it if Squint can’t?”

“Squint Freston is a gangster,” responded Zubian calmly. “The man whom I have in mind is a gentleman. Where Squint is crude, this man is subtle. That constitutes a vast difference between the two.”

“Yeah?” queried Gats. “Well, I’d like to see the guy! I’d like to know who he is! How about you” — he turned to Carleton — “you’d like to know who this smart bird is, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” admitted Carleton, “I should. When can I meet him, Zubian?”

“To-morrow night,” returned Zubian, “at the Cobalt Club.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Carleton. “He is a friend of yours?”

“The best friend that I possess.”

“His name?”

The suave crook smiled. His manner showed great wisdom. Douglas Carleton was impressed. Gats Hackett stood at silent attention.

“His name?” Zubian turned on his cane and strode toward the door, where he paused to face the questioners. “His name? I shall tell you that now. I shall name the one man who not only can find The Shadow, but who will find him. I shall name the man who will become The Shadow’s shadow!

“The Shadow’s shadow — that interest you, eh? It will interest you more, when it has become a fact instead of a prediction. Ah — I forgot. You asked the name of this remarkable man. I shall keep you in suspense no longer. The Shadow’s shadow will be Felix Zubian!”

With this pronouncement of his own name, Zubian smiled and bowed with suave serenity. He opened the door behind him and left the room, still bowing.

The door closed, while Douglas Carleton and Gats Hackett stared in open-mouthed dumfounderment.