The dead gloved hand was clenched to form a firm, tight fist. That clutched hand was the final statement of the fiend, Gray Fist!
CHAPTER XXVI
THE LAST LAUGH
THE death of Gray Fist marked the end of The Shadow’s bitter fight. The last of his enemies had been eliminated. With Ruff Shefflin and Snakes Blakey dead beside their master; with the trusted crew of shock mobsmen gone, The Shadow had silenced all who had tried to hound him to his doom.
The laugh that echoed through Yat Soon’s square-walled reception room remained in fading whispers after the closing panel marked the departure of The Shadow.
Joe Cardona, after his first surprise, realized that Cliff Marsland had aided in saving his life. While Joe and The Shadow’s agents surveyed the dead form of Landis Glascomb, the panel at the rear of the room moved upward. The real Yat Soon stepped into view.
Cardona half believed that it was Yat Soon who had fired that last shot. He knew, at least, that the Chinaman was a friend. This invasion from mobland had not been to Yat Soon’s liking.
The old Chinaman opened the front panel of the room, and made a friendly gesture toward the portal. Cliff Marsland understood. He strode through the opening. Harry Vincent followed.
Joe Cardona’s deliberation was but momentary. He realized quickly that it would be wise to leave this place. Yat Soon’s private residence had been invaded. The Chinaman had played square. Joe was ready to give him the opportunity to remove the bodies.
A Mongol guard conducted the departing men through passages. Bodies of gunmen lay along the way. Inspired by The Shadow — whom they had taken for Yat Soon — the Chinese guards had annihilated the reenforcing squad. That leadership which The Shadow had given had been his repayment to Yat Soon for the Chinese arbiter’s fairness.
The lights of Chinatown were glittering in their usual galaxy when the rescued trio reached a corner near Mott and Pell. There Cardona, still half dazed and blinking at the glare of the lights about him, watched Cliff Marsland and Harry Vincent take their way.
These men, like Cardona, had been prisoners of Gray Fist. There was no reason why the detective should hold them. Cardona, wondering what else to do, started for police headquarters.
Yat Soon’s Mongols must have been working while Cardona traveled. By the time the detective had reached headquarters, word was there regarding slain gangsters whose bodies had been found on the outskirts of Chinatown.
The bodies were being taken to the morgue. Cardona resolved to go there and learn the details that might be given before he prepared a report that would fit the circumstances.
THEN came another call. A body, found in an obscure room near the bad lands, had been brought to the morgue also. It had been identified. The dead man, a knife blade deep in his heart, was Worth Varden. The importer had been dead for several days.
Joe Cardona was puzzled. He felt that he could piece this case together, with the evidence in his possession. At the same time, he knew that certain phases would go unanswered. He wondered where the complete answer would be found.
Cardona would have known, had he been able to visualize a blackened room, lost somewhere in the hubbub of Manhattan. The silence of that place was ended by a click. The darkness was broken by the rays of a bluish lamp that focused themselves upon a polished table.
White hands appeared beneath the spectral glare. The right was moving; the left lay quiet. A shimmering gem — The Shadow’s girasol — glimmered from a finger of the hand that was temporarily idle, because of the wounded arm above it.
The right hand gathered papers. It inscribed cryptic comments upon white sheets. All, handled deftly by The Shadow’s right hand, went into a folderlike envelope.
The right hand wrote upon the container. The envelope was drawn away. A click marked the passing of the bluish light. A triumphant laugh resounded with defiant mockery throughout the blackened confines of The Shadow’s sanctum.
The room which The Shadow had hermetically sealed had been reopened.
The Shadow had removed Worth Varden’s body. Those who had learned the location of The Shadow’s sanctum were dead.
The case of Gray Fist was ended. The Shadow’s envelope contained its details. Facts that The Shadow had gained would be preserved for his perusal alone.
The complete story of Landis Glascomb, the fiend who called himself Gray Fist, would rest secure among the secret archives of The Shadow!