“But I’m thinking of a lot besides. I’m thinking of The Shadow. He’s trying to crimp the game. That means we’ve got to shift our plans. Sit down, Spud, while I go over this. I’m working it out.”
Spud seated himself in an easy-chair and watched Wolf pace back and forth. At times the big shot’s expression denoted worry; at intervals it cleared, finally it showed a triumphant grin. Wolf took a chair opposite his henchman.
“Listen, Spud,” announced the big shot. “When you deal with The Shadow, you’ve got to be smart. That’s why I’m making new plans. First of all, I’m trying to figure out how he got wise about tonight’s job. There’s only one way he could have.”
“Trailing my mob?”
“Yeah. It’s a cinch he don’t know about the hideout; but he probably knows you’re in the game. That worries you, eh? Well, it worries me just as much; but I see an out for both of us. I know a way that’ll fix everything.”
SPUD managed a sickly grin. Wolf’s words had actually worried him; the assurance that the big shot had some scheme began to give him restored confidence.
“The Shadow don’t know you’re hooked up with me,” stated Wolf, in positive fashion. “That’s something that he’s not going to know. I was wise when I picked you” — Wolf paused to chuckle — “on account of your having worked for a lot of guys that were running rackets. How’s The Shadow going to know which one you’re with? Get that idea?”
“But if he trails me here, Wolf—”
“He won’t. You’re not coming here. You’re not going round the hideout, either. Leave that to Skeet and Zug. Say” — something important occurred to the big shot — “did you look over the swag?”
“Yeah. A couple of hundred grand, mostly in securities.”
“Including the bonds that Throckmorton brought with him?”
“Yeah. Skeet grabbed them first.”
“All right. We’ll leave them lay at the hideout. You stowed them in that hidden safe, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Either of us can get them when we want them. They’re hot right now; we’ll let them cool. When I say you’re not going round to the hideout, I mean not unless there’s something special that’s got to be done. Don’t chance it unless you’re sure The Shadow’s not on your trail.”
“I get it.”
“We’re going ahead with the next job,” assured Wolf. “Skeet and Zug work from the hideout. They’re safe enough. But you keep on the move; never let nobody track you.”
“I got to get a new mob,” reminded Spud.
“Yeah,” agreed Wolf, “to do the cover up on the outside. But you can do that on the quiet. Be careful of the gorillas you pick. Don’t get any more than you have to. Send messages to them, like you did before. And pull that stunt of having them start out from the garage and come across you on the way.”
“I did it tonight, Wolf. But The Shadow wised—”
“Maybe he’ll wise again. All the better. You and the mob will be watching for him. If we’ve got to blot out The Shadow, we’ll do it. Anyway, the big point is that no matter what he does, he can’t find the hideout through you and he can’t trace me.
“You’re safe, too” — Wolf was prompt in adding this assurance — “if you use your noodle. Let the gorillas do the heavy work. Stand back and keep the old skull working. You used good judgment tonight. Say, Spud, maybe you’ll get The Shadow.”
The thought seemed to please the mobleader. Wolf grinned, satisfied that he had aroused his chief henchman’s eagerness for new combat. The big shot arose from his chair. He walked over to the door. Spud arose and followed.
“Scram,” advised Wolf. “Phone me, but don’t come around. Be careful, all the time.”
“What about Luke?”
“I’m thinking of him. Give me a call when you get back to where he is. I’ll tell you where to take him and that other gorilla.”
“We may have to dodge the cops at the bridges.”
“Don’t worry about that until you hear from me.”
As soon as Spud had gone, Wolf went to the telephone. He put in a call and held a short, cryptic conversation. That completed, he settled in his chair, to await telephoned word from Spud.
THE mobleader had been wary when he left the apartment house where Wolf lived. Spud had parked his coupe half a block away. He reached the car and drove eastward. He crossed a suspension bridge and noted bluecoats still on duty, inspecting westbound cars that looked suspicious.
Spud reached a small cluster of stores that fringed a portion of the boulevard. He stopped the coupe and alighted. He entered a store and put in a call to Wolf’s apartment, hoping that by this time the big shot had decided what to do with the wounded gorillas.
“That you, Wolf?” queried Spud, speaking into the mouthpiece. “Yeah… This is Spud… Over on Long Island. Say, about those two fellows. Yeah, they’re right near here…”
Spud paused. He was listening to the orders that clicked through the receiver. His eyes began to blink; his mouth opened as he heard the unexpected instructions which came from the big shot. When Wolf was through, Spud could not find his voice for the moment. Then he blurted his understanding.
“I get it, Wolf,” were Spud’s words. “Say. That makes it soft… Sure… I’ll have Louie and Gabby boost the two of them in my coupe… Yeah, I’ll send Louie and Gabby in with the empty touring cars… That’s right, they won’t have no trouble passing the bulls at the bridge…
“That’s right. I won’t have no trouble either… This makes it a cinch… Luke and the other mug? Say — they won’t have no idea what I’m going to do with them… No. They won’t know where I’m taking them… Sure. I’ll tell Louie and Gabby that I’m looking after the two gazebos… Yeah. That’s all Louie and Gabby need to know.”
Spud hung up the receiver. He left the store, chuckling as he went. He drove his coupe from the boulevard and took a side road that led to the spot where he had left Louie and Gabby with the wounded men in the touring cars.
From now on, Spud would look after Luke Gonrey and the second gorilla who had been dropped by one of The Shadow’s slugs. Spud was elated by the cleverness of Wolf Barlan’s orders. He had gained new confidence in the big shot’s craft. For of one thing, Spud was sure.
The mobleader felt positive that when he had followed Wolf Barlan’s instructions, the two wounded gorillas would be safely stowed in a spot where not even The Shadow would think of finding them.
CHAPTER XIII
THE SHADOW’S MOVE
AT noon the next day, Police Commissioner Wainwright Barth encountered Lamont Cranston in the lobby of the Cobalt Club. Barth had come there for lunch. By mutual consent, he and Cranston went to the grill room and there took a secluded corner.
Barth needed the quieting calm of a chat with Cranston. For the police commissioner had been on the go ever since midnight. Crime on Long Island had kept him busy. The new appearance of the death sleep had made him anxious.
“Think of it, Cranston!” exclaimed the commissioner. “Five men overpowered. Helpless victims left in the grip of a terrible paralysis. There is only one consolation. Only one.”
“The recovery of the previous group?”
“Yes. We removed the five new victims to the Talleyrand Hospital where they are under the personal supervision of Doctor Seton Lagwood. He believes that he can restore them to consciousness.”
“What was the motive of the crime?”
“We do not know as yet. We know that crime was involved, because of the terrific gunfight that took place outside the home of Felix Currian. Half a dozen dead mobsters there — all, apparently, members of the same band.