The Triple Trail

CHAPTER XIII THE SHADOW’S TRIANGLE

BLUE light glowed in The Shadow’s sanctum. Beneath the glare, hands were at work. Agents had reported at the end of the day. The Shadow was reviewing their findings.

Clyde Burke had gone to Tilton’s. The reporter had brought along a copy of the Classic that carried Treblaw’s ad. Receiving Commissioner Weston’s confidence, Clyde had been allowed to read the carbon-copy letters that Dale Jurling had brought from his hotel.

A conference had followed. Examination of the Signet correspondence showed that Treblaw was to expect a reply ad. None had been inserted in later copies of the Classic. The inference was that Signet had learned of Treblaw’s death; therefore he had not replied.

Weston had decided to put another ad in the Classic. A copy of it, forwarded by Clyde Burke, was lying on The Shadow’s table. It read:

This T did not mean Treblaw. It referred to Tilton. Dale Jurling had suggested that if Signet had read of Treblaw’s death, he would also have learned of the affray at Tilton’s. He would infer that Tilton actually possessed the Cellini manuscripts. This suggestion of Jurling’s had led to the phrasing of the ad.

A report from Harry Vincent: Tully Kelk was still in his apartment at the Doswind. Harry had seen Kelk’s servant. The fellow was a melancholy-looking sort. He had gone out shortly after nine o’clock this evening, to return with an early copy of the Classic. Thus Kelk had probably seen the new advertisement to Signet.

Cliff Marsland’s report from the underworld: No trace of Duster Shomak. The mobleader was probably hiding out somewhere, waiting for new orders from his chief. Thus Duster remained as a doubtful but dangerous quantity in whatever might lie ahead.

The Shadow pushed reports aside. A sheet of white paper came into view. On it, The Shadow traced an indelible triangle; one that he surveyed steadily. Then, in the center of the diagram, he inscribed the name of Stanton Treblaw.

Crime had involved Treblaw. The old man had died; his manuscript was missing. A double hunt was on, Police were searching for a murderer; they were also looking for the vanished manuscript. Two persons were already involved in the chain of circumstance. The Shadow wrote one name at the left point of the triangle: “Tully Kelk.”

Briefly, The Shadow began notations of the part that Kelk had played. Kelk had bobbed suddenly into the picture on the night of Treblaw’s murder, arriving in the Hotel Goliath shortly after crime had been accomplished.

There he had undoubtedly searched for the Cellini manuscript. He had not found it. His next step had been a visit to Treblaw’s home, where he had conducted a secret search prior to Wickroft’s entrance.

Possibly Kelk had not wanted Wickroft to know that he had come there. It was likely that Kelk mistrusted Wickroft, despite the loyalty that the secretary had sworn. However, Kelk, finding his presence discovered, had proceeded with a smooth game. He had indicated that he was glad to come face to face with Wickroft; and he had made the man believe it.

Tilton’s was the next logical step. Kelk had shown good method in inducing Wickroft to go there. He had found out — by using Wickroft as his proxy — that Tilton did not possess the manuscript. From that moment, Wickroft had been of no further use to Kelk.

Then the raid had struck — unexpectedly and with viciousness. The entrance of The Shadow had saved old Tilton; but in the battle, Wickroft had died. A most desirable result, from the standpoint of Wickroft’s chief. For Wickroft, squealer and weakling, was out of the way and could do no further harm.

Kelk was still waiting in New York. His position was apparently secure. The law had found no trail to him. Kelk thought that he had eluded The Shadow. It was obvious that Kelk did not have the manuscript; and it was also plain that he planned to get it. Kelk would be heard from again.

THE SHADOW wrote another name at the right point of the triangle: “Dale Jurling.” Here was a man whose openness stood as direct contrast to Kelk’s stealth. Jurling had come directly to Commissioner Weston. He had furnished facts regarding the death of Stanton Treblaw.

Working with the law, Jurling had mapped out a definite course. He, too, was seeking some trace of the Cellini manuscript; and he had given proof of its immense value. Joe Cardona had joined Jurling in the quest. Who, then, had the missing manuscript? Someone, certainly, whose exact identity was as yet unknown. To indicate that person, The Shadow placed an X at the top of the triangle. Then, on another portion of the paper, he inscribed a second three-sided figure.

He used no names on these points. Instead, he reduced three persons to factors. At one corner of the triangle he marked the word: “Criminal.” At a second corner; he wrote: “Investigator.” At a third point, he placed the title: “Signet.”

There stood the facts. A curious triangle that showed the situation plainly. The chain was best studied in reverse. The Shadow began with Signet.

Who was Signet? Obviously, a person who fitted the description Dale Jurling had given. A man of means who had found art treasures abroad. Items, like the eleven silver statues, that he thought were genuine works of Benvenuto Cellini.

He had acquired these and other art objects, probably at reasonable prices. Then he had wanted proof of their authenticity. He had learned somehow that Stanton Treblaw owned an unpublished Cellini manuscript. Perhaps he had gleaned that fact from some European collector. He had offered Treblaw a high price for the folio. His final offer had been accepted.

It seemed doubtful that Signet could have acquired the manuscript from Treblaw. Yet, unless Signet held the manuscript, who did? That was a puzzling point; nevertheless, it brought a soft laugh from The Shadow. The master had gained an important inkling.

Finished with Signet, The Shadow took up the matter of the investigator. Stanton Treblaw had paid Burson, Limited, to look into the matter of recently purchased art treasures. The list that Burson had sent him corresponded, presumably, with items mentioned in the Cellini manuscript.

Dale Jurling had come to see Commissioner Weston; he had produced carbon copies of the letters between Treblaw and Burson. The final letter of the lot — corresponding to the one that Treblaw had read and later disposed of — was merely a brief “thank-you” note from Burson, Limited, to Treblaw. This fact was mentioned in Clyde Burke’s report.

That letter should have closed the Treblaw matter, so far as Burson, Limited, was concerned. Yet Dale Jurling had come to New York and was here in reference to the Signet matter. His ship, the Doranic, had left Liverpool prior to the murder of Stanton Treblaw.

In fact, Burson, Limited, had never received a copy of the last Signet letter, with its offer of thirty thousand dollars. The answer, then, as The Shadow saw it, was that the British investigating firm had suddenly decided that the matter was not closed.

It was not surprising that they had sent an investigator to New York. This was an unusual case, this Signet business. But it was odd that they should have sent their man without notifying Treblaw that he was coming. Briefly, the last carbon letter held by Jurling did not jibe with the circumstances.

Did Jurling suspect more than he had stated? It was probable. Jurling had dealt frankly with the police; but he had also pressed the point that Signet should be contacted, not arrested. Weston had agreed; Jurling was satisfied.

But to The Shadow, the existing circumstances offered new thoughts as he studied the investigation point of the new triangle. He believed that Jurling was holding back certain facts and would not announce them until Signet had been discovered. Again, The Shadow laughed.

LAST of all, The Shadow studied the criminal point of the triangle. The method of crime was obvious. Wickroft, planted at Treblaw’s, had chanced to learn of the Cellini manuscript that Signet wanted. He had informed his chief; Treblaw’s murder had been accomplished. Yet killers had not found the manuscript.

Until that time, the crime master had made no open move. But the failure to gain the manuscript had warranted new action. Close after Treblaw’s death, Tully Kelk had come boldly into the picture.

Kelk was certainly determined to get that manuscript. His daring proved it. Coming suddenly from cover, the sallow-faced man had pursued a speedy but dangerous course. He had entered Treblaw’s room shortly after the old collector had been murdered. He had gone directly to Treblaw’s house, to check on Wickroft. He had marched the secretary in to Tilton’s. He had remained there while mobsters raided; and had not fled until he had seen Wickroft dying on the floor.

This was a game that called for a superplotter. Kelk had exhibited those qualifications. At the same time, he had left too much to chance. His tendency to accept doubtful hazards was a paradoxical point.

To The Shadow, Kelk’s actions revealed a definite phase of the sallow man’s game. He could discern that Kelk was holding a trump card that he had not yet played. Kelk would be ready to use it in a pinch. Apparently, the man was a lone worker by inclination.

This insight into the ways of Tully Kelk gave The Shadow all he needed for the final point of the triangle. A white hand plucked up the paper from the table. The sheet crinkled as The Shadow crushed it. A laugh came from the darkness.

A pause. A new sheet came into view. Upon it, The Shadow wrote a name in ink. It was the baffling title: “Signet.” Beneath the name, The Shadow inscribed the outline of a crown.

Name and token faded. Again, The Shadow laughed. He had found two members of the important triangle: Kelk and Jurling. He wanted to discover the third. He knew that his quarry was somewhere in New York.

There was significance in The Shadow’s laugh as he thought of the third name. A paper rustled to the table. It was the guest list of the Hotel Goliath, which Clyde Burke had eventually forwarded for The Shadow’s records.

The Shadow began to cross out names. He eliminated many as he went down toward the bottom of the list. He stopped almost at the end of the column. There he read the name: “Montague Verne.”

This guest had registered from London, England. His room number was 1472. He had come to the Hotel Goliath the very day that Treblaw had registered there. Was there significance in the fact? The Shadow believed so.

For a final laugh whispered as an invisible hand clicked off the bluish light. Strange mockery filled the blackened room. Quivering echoes faded with the departing swish of The Shadow’s cloak.

A new day was due. Before it was ended, The Shadow would find the one man whom he wanted to complete the triangle that surrounded the affairs of dead Stanton Treblaw.