As The Shadow swung from the steps, shots broke out from picket posts along the street. The Shadow, moving swiftly, used revolver spurts as targets. Mobsters could not find the moving shape that never remained in one spot.
Other automatics barked with The Shadow’s. Halfway from a corner, Cliff and Hawkeye were aiding their chief. Mobsters formed scurrying figures as they fled in the opposite direction. They stopped and tried to hide as they saw the lights of a police car coming from the direction toward which they ran.
Five minutes later, the law was in full control. Mobsters, dead, wounded and captured, were all that remained of Loco Zorgin’s formidable crew. Two blocks away, a coupe was swinging out from a secluded curve. The Shadow was at the wheel; with him, Cliff and Hawkeye.
A police car saw the departing coupe. It swung in to take up a chase, believing that other mobsmen were in flight. The Shadow took a twisting course that left the chaser far behind. Stopping in a quiet spot, he ordered Cliff and Hawkeye to take the car.
Leaving the coupe, The Shadow glided into darkness. Again he had won a victory, but with no progress toward his goal. He had been trapped; and escape might never have been his lot had not Joe Cardona and his men appeared to give unwitting aid.
The Shadow was dealing with crafty, dangerous foemen. The proof of their full cleverness came, one hour later, when the cloaked fighter had gained his sanctum. There he received a telephoned report from Burbank, giving news that Clyde Burke had gained at headquarters.
While The Shadow and Joe Cardona had been busy in the neighborhood of the East Side Bank, crime had struck elsewhere. A dynamite explosion had brought police to a jewelry store on Fifth Avenue, where they had arrived too late to prevent the flight of two dozen mobsmen.
The police had uncovered a tunnel blown into the basement of the jewelry store from the cellar of an old apartment house in the rear. Crooks had made a huge haul from the rifled vault. The law could not understand how the swag had been gained so rapidly. The Shadow knew. Matt Theblaw and Digger Wight had pulled a second job with the disintegrating ray provided by Professor Jark. Some new mob leader had been chosen as the man to cover up. Loco Zorgin had been deputed to draw The Shadow elsewhere; to end the career of the foe whom all crooks feared.
The Shadow had finished Loco instead. But the sinister laugh that echoed through the sanctum showed that he was not pleased by tonight’s episodes. Men of crime had tried The Shadow’s game with good results. They had covered their own thrust with a perfect bluff.
CHAPTER XV
LUKE MAKES A DEAL
“CULLY FREER is outside, Luke.”
“Show him, in, Beef. And listen: nobody’s to know he’s been here. Savvy? Nobody.”
“That goes, Luke.”
Luke Cardiff settled back in the chair behind his desk. He glanced at a clock and noted the time as half past five. A smile showed on Luke’s long-jawed face. Early for customers to be coming to the Club Cadilly. That was to Luke’s liking.
Beef had gone out into the deserted gambling room. When the fat-faced lookout returned, he was accompanied by a stocky, square-visaged man whose ugly features showed a scar that circled one eyebrow in a course from forehead to cheek.
“Sit down, Cully,” ordered Luke. “Outside, Beef.”
Cully took a chair and eyed Luke suspiciously. The gambler made no comment until after Beef had gone. Then, in a dry tone, he remarked:
“Nice job you did last night, Cully. You always were a great guy for handing the bulls a bum steer.”
Cully scowled; then shrugged and delivered a slight laugh.
“Don’t get you, Luke,” he scoffed “What is this — some kind of a game? Bringing me up here to spring some boloney?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” assured Luke. “You were covering for Matt Theblaw, up at that Fifth Avenue jewelry store. Pulling a blind while Loco Zorgin was getting his over by the East Side Bank.”
“You mean I was in with the guy that grabbed the rocks?” queried Cully as if in surprise. “Say — what use have I got for sparklers? D’you think I’d want to take a chance like that?”
“You wouldn’t have cracked the place yourself, Cully. That isn’t your racket. But covering up is your old bet. That’s why I sent Tony down to tell you I wanted to see you.”
“Nix, Luke. I don’t get it.”
Luke straightened behind his desk. His face wore a hard look; one that made Cully stare. Emphatically the gambler drove fist to woodwork, so hard that the desk clock jounced.
“You’re going to get it, Cully!” growled Luke. “Listen, you mug! I’m talking straight — telling you something for your own good. First off, Matt Theblaw and I used to be like that. You know that much, don’t you?”
Cully nodded as he saw Luke raise his hand and cross two fingers. Like others in the underworld, the scar-faced rowdy knew that Matt Theblaw and Luke Cardiff had been pals.
“All right,” assured Luke. “We never split, Matt and I. We used to think alike. We still do, even though we’re in different rackets. Whatever either of us would be doing, the other might be. Savvy that?”
Again a nod from Cully.
“If I’d been picking some gazebo to head a mob of mine, the first bet would have been Stinger Lacey. It wasn’t long ago, Cully, that Stinger got his. My second bet would have been Loco Zorgin. He took it last night.
“Matt would have made the same picks as I would” — Luke’s eyes were narrowing — “and if either of us had lost Stinger and Loco, the third guy we’d have used was you. Get that, Cully?
“You know who bumped Stinger, don’t you? I’ll tell you. It was The Shadow. And who got Loco? The same guy. And who’s going after you next? I’ll tell you: The Shadow! Listen, Cully, how much is Matt paying you to take it on the chin?”
CULLY’S mouth had widened. Half nervous, the mob leader started to say something, and then stopped. Luke chuckled.
“Come on, bo,” he suggested. “Spill it. I’m wise. I’m a pal of Matt’s. You’re not going to tell me anything that’ll hurt Matt’s racket. But maybe you’re going to fix it so I can help yours.”
“All right,” decided Cully, shifting. “Maybe I am workin’ for Matt. But that don’t mean nothin’, Luke. I ain’t even seen him. When I hear from him, it’s over a telephone down at Crazy Tochler’s pool room. Supposin’ Matt did sign up. That don’t mean I know anythin’.”
“I get that much,” chuckled Luke. “Matt always was close-mouthed. I didn’t think you’d know how he was working. I don’t know myself. He’s got some swell racket, that’s all. But it’s a cinch you’ve heard from Matt and that you’re going to hear from him again. That’s why I called you in — so you could hand him a tip from me!”
“I’ll do that, Luke.”
“All right. Listen, Cully. There was a guy came in here not long after Stinger took the bump. You know the bird; his name is Cliff Marsland. He told me he was close to Stinger. He’d found out that Stinger was working for Matt Theblaw. Marsland was supposed to have signed up; with Stinger out, he wanted to know who might be taking Stinger’s place.”
“And you told him?”
“Yeah. I was a dub. I named Loco Zorgin. That same night, Loco ran into it tough over by the Colonnade Trust Company. Marsland dropped in again; said he hadn’t got in touch with Loco, but it looked like Loco must have handled that mob. Said he hoped maybe he could get a hold of Loco later.”