Groping their way, they followed The Shadow to safety down the secret stairway. They stopped as they neared the street. Black-clad arms shot out through the darkness and seized the form of a gangster stationed by the door. The man fell heavily to the sidewalk, stunned by the force of his fall.
The Shadow pushed Cliff and Harry to the street. Following his urge, they hurried toward the corner.
They were alone now, running easily in order to leave the vicinity before either police or gangsters might arrive. As they jogged along side by side they heard a weird, uncanny sound that echoed between the walls of the narrow byway.
It was a mocking laugh — a sardonic laugh — the triumph laugh of The Shadow!
The Shadow had played the winning game. After suspecting Loy Rook’s trap, he had worked the trick of the joss and had made a quick exit to the second floor before the Chinaman had closed the camouflaged doorways. He who laughed at locks had entered the third-floor sanctum by the double-barred front stairway. With his advent had passed the fiendish schemes of Loy Rook and Sneaks Rubin!
CHAPTER XIX. CARDONA’S RUSE
THE second morning after the battle at Loy Rook’s, Detective Joe Cardona held a conference with Inspector Timothy Klein. The two police officers discussed the new upheaval that had startled gangland; the death of Jake Dermott, the chieftain who had replaced Dave Markan.
The gun play at Loy Rook’s had been a welcome relief. It made good copy for reporters, and it was a change from the insidious methods of Double Z.
It brought gang war into the picture, and the public was accustomed to such affrays in New York.
Double Z was temporarily shelved by the press. Hence Joe Cardona and his superior had experienced a breathing spell.
In his investigation of the Chinatown quarrel, Joe Cardona could find no trace of Double Z. Jake Dermott was not a gigantic figure in the underworld, and Sneaks Rubin was of trifling importance.
Nevertheless, Double Z would probably have sent one of his predicting messages if he had known that killings were on the way. Perhaps Double Z was becoming cautious. Joe hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry.
“I’d give my right eye to get the guy!” he told Inspector Klein. “If he’d only try something once again — I think I could get him!”
“You think so?” quizzed Klein. “Well, Joe, you’d better get him if he shows his nose again.”
The remark was not encouraging to the star detective. He had a troubled look on his face when he left.
Little did Joe Cardona suspect that Double Z had been closely concerned with that fight at Loy Rook’s — that three of the mad murderer’s most trusted and important agents, Dermott, Rubin, and the Chinaman, had met their doom because they had meddled with The Shadow!
A mighty conflict of unseen forces had taken place, and New York’s best detective had not stumbled upon a single clew!
“Double Z,” thought Joe Cardona. He muttered the name as he sat by his desk. “Double Z! Will he bob up again?”
The telephone rang. Cardona answered it. He heard a strange, anxious voice at the other end asking for him.
“This is Cardona,” said Joe. “Who’s calling?”
“Matthew Wade,” came the reply.
The detective jumped at the name. Matthew Wade! One of the biggest multimillionaires in the East! A man of great influence, and tremendous holdings which he had inherited and had afterward increased.
What could Matthew Wade want?
“What can I do for you?” asked Cardona.
“Come up to see me,” replied Wade. “At my home on Fifth Avenue.”
Cardona knew the place. The man of wealth still lived in a costly mansion that had belonged to his family.
The detective wasted no time in further parley. He heard Wade’s final instructions — to make the visit confidentially. That was enough. Joe Cardona was on his way.
THE detective was ushered into a luxurious smoking room when he called at Wade’s mansion. There he met the millionaire. He eyed Matthew Wade with respect. The man was not much over forty. He was tall and broad-shouldered, a typical sportsman.
Matthew Wade had hunted tigers and elephants in India. He had patrolled the South African veldt. He was a man of many parts and boundless wealth. Despite his indolence of manner and his ease of living, he showed signs of latent power and dynamic personality.
What impressed Cardona most was the expression upon Matthew Wade’s face. The man was trying to seem indifferent. Actually he was ill at ease. He seemed to be repressing a dread.
“Have you spoken to any one about this visit?” inquired Wade in a tone of apprehension.
“To no one,” said Cardona.
“Good,” responded Wade. “Then we can talk.”
He strode up and down the room several times. He finally stopped and faced Cardona. He spoke abruptly.
“It looks like trouble for me,” he declared. “It’s meant trouble for others before. What do you think of this?”
He pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and thrust it into Cardona’s hands. The detective’s heart jumped. He recognized that crude typewriting, with the cryptic signature beneath. The message read: You will be next! Unless you pay one million dollars, you may count on death. Instructions will come later. Tell no one!
“Is that from Double Z?” questioned Wade.
“It is,” replied Cardona grimly.
The millionaire sat down suddenly. He rubbed his beaded forehead. He looked at Joe Cardona rather sheepishly.
“I’m worried,” he admitted. “I don’t mind dying. I can lose a million. But to be threatened and blackmailed by a crazy man! Killed, perhaps—”
Cardona was solemn. He wanted to promise Matthew Wade protection; but he knew too well the power of Double Z. Only on rare occasions— months ago — had Double Z failed in his predictions. Now that the unknown man had become a killer — Cardona thought of Caulkins and Farmington and was silent.
“We’ve got to beat him,” declared Wade emphatically. “It’s worth money to me if you can help me, Cardona.”
“It’s my duty to help you,” replied the detective.
“This man must be shrewd,” said Wade. “Shrewd, even though he is a maniac. He’s a killer. He murdered Farmington — a good friend of mine. You know, Cardona” — Wade’s voice became thoughtful — “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had hounded Judge Tolland!”
The statement brought a gasp from Cardona. His mind went back to what Joel Caulkins had told his city editor over the telephone just before the reporter met his strange death.
Until now Cardona had considered it a hoax. But with the statement coming from Matthew Wade, the case was different.
“Judge Tolland was a friend of mine,” added Wade. “I know that he was honest. There were cases of gangsters coming up before him. Perhaps one of them might have concerned Double Z. I have never been able to understand Tolland’s disappearance until now. But with this threat hovering over me, I can see why any man would wish to flee.”
Cardona suddenly recollected that Judge Tolland had been pressing investigations at the time of his disappearance. One of them had involved members of Dave Markan’s gang. Rumors had said that Tolland was bought off. Certain it was that the investigations had ceased when the justice had disappeared.
“I’d like to rely on you, Cardona,” said Wade. “But you know too well that the police have been unable to cope with this murderous man.”
“We’ll keep the threat out of the papers,” began Cardona.
“That won’t do,” argued Wade. “Publicity might help us rather than hinder. Think of my viewpoint. I want to be beyond the reach of Double Z. If I—”