“A long while, I think.”
“That means more nights. Just like the roulette wheel. Always a chance for a big win. But you won’t gain anything by coming out here. Where are you stopping?”
“At the Montezuma.”
“A good spot. Well, if we spot your man, you’ll hear from Rafferty. And get this, Cardona: If we spot him, you’ll get him. He’ll be waiting for you when you call. Is that satisfactory?”
Cardona nodded. Medbrook arose and extended his hand. Cardona accepted it. Medbrook picked up the box of cigars; Joe helped himself to a batch of the expensive smokes.
“I said not to come here, Cardona,” reminded the gambler. “By that I mean don’t bother with the gambling room. We’re watching it. But as for the nightclub” — Medbrook smiled — “drop in there any time you want. Ask for Louie. Tell him who you are. Give Louie the check. He’ll take care of it.
“Bring your friends; and if you don’t have any, tell Louie. He’ll introduce you. But in the meantime, you’ve still got a big bet in the city. I’ll tell you why. Even in New Orleans, the police don’t know how well organized we are. But the con men do. They’ve passed the word along their grapevine.
“If this fellow Cyro is looking for something soft in New Orleans, he may be wise enough to know that the Club Caprice is a poor spot to start at. So take a look around town. They’ll arrange that for you at headquarters.”
Medbrook arose from his desk and strolled out into the room. Cardona followed. With one hand, the gambler opened the door; with the other, he clapped the detective warmly upon the back. He closed the door after Cardona had gone. He went back to his desk.
TEN minutes passed. A rap at the door. Medbrook called to come in. A bouncer entered.
“What is it, Tony?” questioned Medbrook.
“The dick’s gone,” stated the bouncer. Then, uneasily: “But so has another guy.”
“One you were spotting?”
“No. Not exactly. A fellow we had on the list of new customers. I’d have told you sooner, boss, but the dick was in here—”
“That’s all right, Tony. What was the man’s name?”
“Tracy Lence.”
“Where from?”
“New York, I heard him say.”
“Is he in the files?”
“No. He looks like a gent, too. But I was kind of leery after Manny told me that the guy went out just about the time the dick showed up.”
“Tracy Lence.” Medbrook pronounced the name slowly. “Did he look like he was playing for some sucker?”
“No,” admitted Tony, “he didn’t. That was just it, boss. He was picking the worst bet in the place.”
“Whom do you mean?”
“Luke Gaudrin. Anybody could tell that young Gaudrin is flat. Leastwise, this fellow Lence could have. This is the third night he’s been palling with Gaudrin.
“I wouldn’t have suspected nothing, boss, if Lence hadn’t ducked out. But it looked kind of funny, right on top of that New York dick coming in. Maybe I should have stopped Lence, or gone after him—”
“No Tony,” Medbrook shook his head slowly, “you did right. I’ll tell you what to do. Where is Luke Gaudrin right now?”
“Playing Dave’s wheel.”
“He still has chips?”
“Plenty. He’s following a guy that’s got a system.”
“They all have a system. But none of them last. Listen, Tony. Stop by and speak to Luke Gaudrin. Tell him I want to see him.”
“Maybe he won’t want to break away from the wheel—”
“Catch him at the right moment. Just when he’s made a win. Tip Dave to spin the wheel before he can make another play.”
“All right.”
Tony grinned and departed. Royal Medbrook extracted a fresh cigar from the box on the desk. Poker-faced, he sat staring toward the door, waiting for the arrival of Luke Gaudrin.
CHAPTER X
THE SHADOW’S STEALTH
WHEN Joe Cardona went out through the gambling room of the Club Caprice, he failed to observe Lamont Cranston. Joe, however, did not escape the scrutiny of the tall personage at the roulette table. The keen eyes of The Shadow watched the detective’s exit.
Long hands placed new chips upon the board. Luke Gaudrin, following The Shadow’s move, put an eager question:
“How long will this system hold out?”
“This is my last play,” came Cranston’s quiet response. “But if you follow this combination, you should have luck. Stop on the sixth spin, whether you win or lose on that particular play.”
Luke nodded as he heard the odd instructions. The wheel was stopping; this time it gave an even break. Lamont Cranston gathered his chips. He stood by watching while Luke made another play.
Conscious of Cranston’s presence, Luke thought that his new acquaintance was standing by. But as the wheel began its quick revolution, the tall stranger strolled leisurely away. Luke, his eyes riveted on the wheel, did not observe The Shadow’s departure.
Playing the quiet role of Cranston, The Shadow stopped at the faro table. Though apparently watching the board, his eyes were elsewhere. The Shadow saw Tony coming from the office. He had seen the man enter there just after Cardona’s departure.
Tony was circling over toward the roulette table. He stopped near Luke Gaudrin. Rafferty, back at the door to the second card room, also had his eye on the big bouncer. The Shadow’s keen gaze turned toward Rafferty. Calmly, The Shadow stepped away from the faro table and edged into the doorway of the card room.
He passed the portal unseen. The card room, vacant of players, was dimly illuminated by a wall lamp. Cranston’s tall form moved with swift glide. Beside it stretched a long, mysterious shadow — a blotch of blackness that ended in a hawklike silhouette.
Though still retaining his guise of Cranston, The Shadow had become a creature of stealth. His figure became obscure as it reached a doorway that led into the next card room. The adjoining compartment was dark. The Shadow merged with blackness as he entered.
Silently, across the floor to another door. A tiny flashlight formed a dollar-sized disk upon the lock. A blackened pick appeared in a hand upon which gleamed a resplendent gem. The Shadow probed the lock.
One minute marked this stealthy process. The slight clicks of the pick were barely audible. The little tool twisted; the hand withdrew it. The flashlight was extinguished.
Slowly, The Shadow turned the knob. Imperceptibly, he opened the door inward until a glare of light came through the crack. The Shadow paused. His keen eye looked into the next room.
IT was Royal Medbrook’s office. The gambler was seated at his desk, going over a stack of papers. As The Shadow watched, Medbrook lay the papers aside. Rising, the gambler walked into the inner office.
Instantly, the door from the card room opened. A blackened figure twisted through. The door closed silently. A long shape stretched across the floor as The Shadow stepped into the light. As before, he appeared as Lamont Cranston. His motions, however, were swift.
The Shadow spied the curtained windows. He drew aside the velvet drapes. Beyond the pane was a bolted metal shutter. The sill between curtain and window offered a broad space. The Shadow stepped up to the sill.
The curtains closed as by magic just as Royal Medbrook returned. The gambler did not catch the motion of the heavy drapes. Closed, they were restored to their original position. The keenest observer would not have spied the watching eyes that peered from between the meeting edges of the curtains.
Medbrook resumed his seat at the desk.
Four minutes passed. Then came a rap at the door. Medbrook spoke; the door from the anteroom opened and Luke Gaudrin stepped into view. Medbrook pointed to the door. Luke closed it. The gambler motioned to a chair.